When it was time to go, Kitty’s Mother insisted that Ralph and Kitty escort me. I think she feared that something might happen in the narrow lanes that wind all over this rocky section of the city.
It did not take long. We passed the big military barracks where a huge flag was being raised with great ceremony. There were Soldiers everywhere and people were gathered around outside the gates.
Ralph asked what was going on and one man near us said that he did not know. He said that this was the first time he had ever seen such a thing and he had no idea what it meant. Maybe something important was about to happen.
They left me just before we got to Mr Lewin’s house. Kitty did not say anything but I suspect she feared my Uncle and something made me not mention her to him when he came home only a few minutes afterwards.
He is not happy. Some detail in the paperwork is missing and it seems he will have to spend more time tomorrow before the vines will be released. I know he is afraid that every day they are on board the ship there is a chance that they will not be well cared for and so they will not be in the best condition when he takes possession. If he is unsuccessful tomorrow I think he will go to the Governor.
Later
We walked this evening, after dinner. I believe every person in Sydney Town was out strolling in the warm Summer night. At one point, my Uncle tapped me on the head and said, ‘See that person ahead of us, in the frockcoat?’
I nodded, and he went on in a low voice, ‘You may not recognise him from the back, dear nephew, but that is the infamous John Macarthur, the one who knocked you down and the cause of much of our suffering.’
We followed him for a few blocks, watching him bowing and greeting people as if determined to say to the world, ‘See what a fine fellow I am, notice me.’ At the corner of Spring Street and the road that leads to the Barracks he was joined by a man whom Uncle George called John Blaxland, and the two of them headed towards the Soldiers’ quarters.
‘Let us not worry about them,’ said my Uncle. ‘It is too beautiful an evening.’ We turned in the opposite direction but, despite the warm breeze I felt strangely cold and fearful of the man with the coal-black eyes and the leering presence. I was glad when we left the main thoroughfare and ventured home.
Tuesday 26th January
‘It is twenty years since this colony was founded.’ They were my Uncle’s words that greeted me when I arose this morning and found him and Mr Lewin at breakfast.
‘And a fine colony it is,’ said Mr Lewin and they laughed together and toasted Sydney Town, the Governor and the King with their cups of tea.
Mr Lewin became quite serious then and addressed his comments to me, saying how this fine colony would one day become a great and rich nation and youngsters like me would benefit from the work being done now by people like my Uncle and by the wise administration of Governor Bligh.
I have stayed in all morning and assisted Mr Lewin with his work. I copied labels for him, labels he attaches to the displays of fine birds that he says he is going to make available for all the colonists to see. I did my very best handwriting—not like the scrawl that I sometimes do here—and he was very pleased.
In fact, he said if I were living here in Sydney Town instead of the farming district, I could come whenever I chose and he would teach me the skills of drawing and colouring. Perhaps I can learn a little each time we come here.
Uncle George came back from the harbour well satisfied. His vines are to be released tomorrow morning and he can take possession of them. So, this afternoon he is free to pass time with friends and he will dine with Mr Lewin and some other men. We are to return to Chelsea Farm tomorrow afternoon.
I am satisfied too because while they are dining I am free to spend my evening with Ralph and Kitty. I do not know what we will do together but just being with them makes me feel happy.
Later—midnight
The most terrible thing has happened. What is to become of us all? Kitty says that as I am able to write and as we were there and saw everything that took place, it is my duty to record it all. It will take me hours and occupy pages and I do not even know where I should begin. (I did say that to Kitty, that I would not know where to start and she said, ‘Start at the beginning, of course,’ but even that is impossible—for how should I, a boy of twelve, know how it began?)
We were just finishing lunch when Abraham, who is the man who helps Mr Lewin with his bird-catching and plant-gathering, came racing along the street. He was quite red in the face and breathing heavily and he had to sit down before he could relate the information he had brought.
He told us that John Macarthur, who had been released from the Court for some reason yesterday without his trial taking place, had now been rearrested on the instructions of the Governor. There was talk in the streets that those Military Officers who were hearing the trial in the Court and who had released him were themselves summonsed to appear before Governor Bligh. Some folk were saying that this was a most dangerous situation, that the Governor should not antagonise the most powerful men in the colony.
Mr Lewin barely paused in his work. ‘Nonsense,’ he said. ‘This is the day when that John Macarthur gets his comeuppance.’ He patted Abraham on the shoulder and said, ‘Governor Bligh is a brave and courageous man. We can have confidence in his judgment.’
How those words echo in my mind now.
I did not think too much about all that as I went off to meet my friends. I ran in my own strange way from shadow to shadow along Spring Street because the stones were as hot as branding-irons pressed up against my feet and the sun above pressed fiercely down upon me. Already people were lying in doorways, hiding from the harsh rays and taking some solace in their Rum. I knew Ralph would be at the harbour and all I could think of was sitting with him on the sand, dangling my toes in the cool water.
Kitty was there too. We sat for some time. The heat of the sun is less severe when the breeze comes off the water. They asked me about my life before Sydney and I found myself telling them things I have not thought about for quite some time.
‘Were you by the sea?’ asked Kitty.
‘No, well inland,’ I said, and I told them of our village (which is really part of Outer London), where my Mother and Father are laid to rest in the churchyard, under spreading oaks. They then asked me what an oak looked like, as they had heard their Parents talk about them, and I found tears forming behind my eyelids as I tried to capture in the eye of my mind exactly what an oak tree is.
In the end I drew an oak leaf in the sand and then a plan of the whole village, the Church and the High Street and the houses that string along the main road that leads to the West Country and then to Wales. It is strange to think that both my new friends were born here and so know nothing that I know about that other place on the other side of the World.
We lazed that way for quite some hours. Kitty had brought oatcakes and a jug of sweet water. The shadows were long from the buildings behind us and eventually they enveloped us and reminded us that the day was almost over.
‘But let us not go home,’ said Kitty. ‘There is something I want to do.’ She looked at me most directly and stabbed at me with her finger. ‘You, Davy, have been in this place only a month, yet you have been to places and seen things that I have never witnessed. You have even met the Governor. I must return to our farm in only a few days so tonight I want you to come with me and we will go to Government House. Perhaps we will see Governor Bligh himself and you can introduce me to him.’
‘Introduce you,’ I spluttered. ‘Kitty, he is the Governor. I am nothing in his presence. He will not remember me. I would not dare approach him.’
‘But everyone says he cares for those who are not wealthy, not powerful. I am not wealthy. I have no power.’
How could I say to her what I was thinking? Not only is Kitty not wealthy and not powerful, she is the Daughter of a convict, a man brought to this place in chains. It is as if she herself had committed some offence. If my Aunt and Un
cle do not befriend her family, how would the Governor behave towards her? That is without thinking of his response to her because she is a girl.
So instead I said, ‘Kitty, he is a man of great temper and harsh language. Ellen who is at Chelsea Farm says many say that he is unpredictable and can be quite alarming. If we were to approach him and he was displeased, I do not know what might happen. Anyway, he has Soldiers who guard his house and he is probably having dinner with important people and we will not be able to disturb him.’
‘You are scared, Davy,’ she said.
It was true, but I did not want to admit it and so I said nothing.
‘When I see the Governor,’ Kitty stood up and tossed her head back, ‘I am going to tell him about the Dolans and the McCanns. And maybe Mr MacPherson, too. If he really cares, the way everyone says, then he must do something to help.’
She started to walk away, around the harbour wall. Ralph had said nothing during the conversation and he now stood up and dragged me to my feet. ‘We have to go after her,’ he said. ‘If something happens to her I will be in awful trouble.’
I felt Kitty could look after herself well enough but I joined him in his pursuit of her.
They were lighting the flares outside the public houses as we made our way around the harbour and followed Kitty as she climbed the hill. Drunken men were staggering down the road and we feared for her and I urged Ralph to run to catch up. Why did I bother? I saw one man reach out to touch Kitty’s hair. She struck his arm so forcefully and said so clearly that he ought to stand aside or she would summon a constable that the fellow fell back against his friend and they both turned away from her and to their bottle.
Ahead of me, Kitty and Ralph stopped. I thought they were kindly waiting for me to catch up with them but when I reached them Kitty hushed me with a sign and cupped her hand to her ear. ‘Drums,’ she said, ‘and fife.’ Truly, in the distance could be heard the sound of military music.
‘Let us go that way,’ I said, thinking all the time of a way to divert us from her intentions. ‘We can see the Soldiers on parade.’ I had no idea what the Soldiers were doing but anything to avoid a moment of meeting the Governor face-to-face.
‘Maybe it is for Anniversary Day,’ said Ralph, who, I believe, shared my apprehension. ‘Let us go.’
Kitty shook her head. ‘No need. They are coming this way.’
She was right. The sounds grew louder and louder. They were as if the Soldiers had left the Barracks, close to the area where Ralph lived, and were heading across town towards us or, more accurately, towards Government House.
‘Come on,’ said Kitty, ‘we can see them at the top of the hill.’
We hurried on. The drums beat louder and louder. Other people came out of their houses along the street. One called out to us, ‘What is happening? Why all the noise?’
‘Maybe a celebration,’ Kitty called back. ‘For the Anniversary.’
We were at the top of the hill when we saw them. Up the hill from the other side they came, drums at the front flanked by Soldiers waving flaming torches. The light of the flares gleamed from their red coats. Townspeople stood and watched as children and dogs leapt out of their way.
‘Davy,’ Kitty grabbed my arm and Ralph’s. ‘I have a wonderful idea. They must be going to see the Governor as part of the celebration. Surely he will come out and greet them and maybe march up and down in front of them and salute them. We can slip into the grounds across there.’ She pointed to where a large tree created a gap in the fence that surrounded the garden. ‘We can dart in there and there must be bushes that we can hide behind and everyone will be so busy and it is a bit dark … and we can see him then.’
There was no use arguing. ‘Well, as long as you do nothing to draw attention to us,’ I said. ‘No noise, no calling out.’
She had already turned and was slipping across the road and through the gap in the fence. Ralph and I followed. We moved quietly from bush to bush but there was no-one to see us or challenge us.
There were lights coming from the downstairs room at the front and others at the room at the back that was probably the kitchen but otherwise the house was in darkness.
‘It does not look like a celebration,’ said Ralph.
We stopped when we reached a spot that gave us a clear view of both the sentry box, near the gate, and the main door.
‘He will come through there,’ said Kitty, ‘and the Soldiers will parade across that lawn.’ She waved her arm to indicate the space ahead of us.
At that moment the Soldiers reached the gate. There was noise and confusion as the first group burst through and advanced towards the house. They were spread out, not in a neat formation, and there was shouting and a waving of weaponry in the air.
‘They have bayonets,’ whispered Ralph. ‘This is no parade drill.’
We drew back more tightly into the shadow. A Soldier beat his fist on the door. It opened and we glimpsed a manservant who stood for a moment and then turned back into the house. A woman appeared. I saw by the torch flame that it was Mrs Putland. I started to whisper this to the others but her voice rang out clearly and I fell silent.
‘How dare you!’ Her tone was so powerful that the Soldiers fell back for a moment, confused. ‘You are drunk, Sir,’ she went on.
We could not make out the Soldier’s mumbled reply.
‘Come on,’ called a voice from the back of the group of redcoats. ‘It is Bligh that we want, not her.’
‘Bligh, Bligh,’ yelled another, and then a third voice, ‘Give us Caligula.’
She spread her arms wide and filled the doorway. ‘Stab me in my heart,’ she called, ‘but respect the life of my Father.’
‘Damn your Father,’ shouted a voice. ‘Push her aside.’
‘My God, what is happening?’ whispered Ralph. ‘What will they do to him?’
We clung to each other in the darkness.
‘They cannot seize him.’ Kitty’s hand gripped my knee.
‘But they must,’ I said. ‘There will only be a few servants there. Even if he hides, they must surely find him.’
By this time the Soldiers had cast Mrs Putland aside. I no longer felt afraid of the Governor but instead afraid for him. Some Soldiers had gone into the house. Others stood near the door and their number stretched back to the gate.
‘We must let people know,’ I said. ‘But how?’
‘I am going in there,’ said Kitty. ‘I will tell the Soldier that I am that Lady’s maid and I will tell her that you, Ralph, have gone to alert respectable people of what is happening. You, Davy, must watch and remember everything you hear and see.’
I could not believe what she was saying. Like an Army General or an Admiral she had organised us in a moment.
Ralph protested her plan but she was adamant. ‘But who will I tell?’ he said.
‘Davy’s Uncle,’ she replied. ‘He will know what to do, who to tell. Is he at home, with Mr Lewin?’
I nodded. ‘I should go,’ I said.
‘With that leg? Sorry, Davy. You are too slow. Besides, if something happens to you, if you are caught here, someone will protect you. We are nothing, Ralph and me. If someone caught us here, we would be up before the Magistrate before you could say ‘Jack Robinson’. I would be sent to the Factory and he would be in the chain gang. Now, what is her name?’
‘Mrs Putland. Take care,’ I whispered to them both as they disappeared into the shadows. I pushed myself further into the dark space between two stems of the bush.
Torchlight appeared in the upstairs windows of the house. I was concentrating on that and on the dark shapes of Soldiers on the stairs when I heard the voice of Kitty loud and clear.
‘I am Mrs Putland’s maid. Let me through.’
‘She has great need of you,’ laughed a Soldier. Another voice called, ‘Where ‘ave you been then?’
‘Taking a message for her,’ said Kitty. ‘What is going on? Let me through.’
‘Stay with us,’ said t
he Soldier, and I feared for Kitty and did not know what to do when another voice called, ‘Let her through. It is only Bligh we want to sport with.’
The cool southerly wind began to blow. A Soldier who seemed to be in command stood at the front door and shouted orders and small groups of men formed and then disappeared around the back of the house. One group started to search the grounds.
‘Maybe he is up a tree,’ said a rough voice and I saw the group heading my way. Moonlight glinted off their bayonets.
‘He could not be round here,’ said another. ‘We would have seen him crossing the lawn. Let us go round the back.’
‘We were told to check all the garden, every last bit.’
They were closer now. I wished I looked just like a piece of bark. I wished I had gone with Ralph. I wished I were as brave as Kitty.
They were so close I could have reached my arm out and touched the red wool of their jackets. What would I say if they caught me? How was it that they could not hear my heart thudding in my chest? One of them flicked an outer branch of the shrub and it flew up and scraped my cheek. I bit my tongue and pressed my lips as tightly together as I possibly could. I must not make a sound.
‘No,’ said the first voice—the one who wanted to search every scrap of the garden. ‘He is nowhere round here. He is probably inside somewhere, in a cupboard or under a bed.’
They laughed coarsely and I thought of the stories of Bligh I had heard: of his bravery in the Battle of Copenhagen such that Lord Nelson had called him onto the deck of his own ship to receive his thanks and of the way in the Southern Waters he had sailed the longboat across so many thousands of miles with little food and water and yet none of those in his care died. He would not show cowardice in the face of these Soldiers. Unlike me.
The Rum Rebellion Page 5