They left and I breathed more easily.
It seemed a long time before I heard Kitty’s voice. Maybe I had fallen asleep. I do not know, but I heard her saying to a Sentry, posted at the door, ‘I am to go home. Major Johnston’s orders.’ She glanced in my direction but the light was so bad I could not discern her meaning. I backed away from the tree, my bones stiff and sore.
We met on the street beyond the fence. ‘What is happening?’ I said. ‘Have they taken him?’
‘Yes. It took a while. He escaped upstairs to destroy some papers but they did find him in the end. We must hurry. We need to see your Uncle.’
‘Will they kill him?’
She shrugged. ‘Mrs Putland does not think so but who can tell?’
We pushed our way down the hill in the direction of the centre of town. There were people everywhere. Some were advancing on Government House, calling to others, asking what was going on. As we turned into Spring Street I saw John Macarthur strolling with John Blaxland and another man, away from the force of the crowd.
‘Look,’ I said to Kitty. ‘At least that means he is not involved in this.’
She snorted. ‘Not seen to be involved,’ she said. ‘My Dad says there is nothing in this town happens but he is up to his neck in it.’
‘This town,’ I muttered, ‘this stinking, rum-soaked miserable place—I hate it.’ They were the Surgeon’s words, but they felt mine, coming up from deep in my heart. ‘I hate it, Kitty, and as soon as I am old enough I am leaving. I am returning to where I belong.’ She looked at me, shocked but said nothing.
‘Kitty! Davy!’ It was Ralph, calling and waving at us from across the road. ‘You are to come with me. Your Uncle is beside himself with worry. I told him where I had left you and I thought he would strike me. He has gone to Sergeant Gore’s house with other gentlemen and we are to meet them there.’
When we arrived my Uncle clasped me to him and held me for a long time. I wanted to push away for I did not want to be seen like this in front of my friends but it was strangely comforting to know he cared so much for my welfare. Then he held me at his arms’ distance and touched the blood on my cheek from the branch that had scraped me. He shook his head but said nothing. The other men took little notice of us and continued their conversation.
Sergeant Gore was not present. His wife said he had gone earlier to Government House. She feared greatly for his safety for in the past it was he who had held John Macarthur in custody.
‘Macarthur is behind all this, I know it,’ my Uncle said. ‘Thank God he is in gaol.’
‘No, he is not,’ I said.
There was silence.
‘We saw him just ten minutes ago, walking in the street with that man Blaxland and some others that we did not know.’
‘The Blaxlands,’ said my Uncle. ‘I might have known they would be involved. What else have you seen?’
I told them briefly of my time in the garden. All the while, Kitty stood quietly beside the fireplace, her arms folded and her head down. None of the men had spoken to her.
‘You should ask Kitty,’ I said. ‘She was there. She went inside. She spoke—’
‘What!’ Mistress Gore grabbed her by the arm and drew her into the circle. ‘Tell us, girl. Tell us everything.’
‘Calm down, Ma’am,’ said my Uncle. ‘The girl is exhausted. Would you like some water, my dear?’ He spoke as gently as if he were dealing with one of his own children and Kitty nodded and smiled up at him and sat on the stool he drew up for her.
‘I pretended I was a maid,’ she said. ‘I told them I had to see Mrs Putland and when I went inside I found her in the dining room under guard. There were Soldiers everywhere. Many of them were drunk and not just from drinking the wine that was on the table. Others were going through every room demanding to know where the Governor was. Mrs Putland said she did not know where he had gone and if she had she would not tell them. I think if she were a man they would have struck her down.
‘The one in charge sent men in pairs everywhere—the kitchen, the outhouses and even into the rooms where the servants and the convicts sleep. All of the men dining with the Governor and his Daughter were placed under arrest and put into another room with a guard.
‘Mrs Putland ordered the Soldiers to leave us alone in the room and, to our surprise, they did. She wrote a very quick message to tell you what had happened. She was almost finished when there was a shout from upstairs and two Soldiers came down with the Governor. I have never seen a man so angry. His face was all red and I thought he would explode.’
Kitty turned away from the men and put her hand under her dress. That made it my turn for my face to go crimson but she drew out a folded piece of paper and handed it to Uncle George. He read it aloud. I will copy it here so all may know its contents.
To the Concerned and Respectable Settlers of New South Wales,
Soldiers of the New South Wales Corps have invaded this House, threatened my Person, taken prisoner many fine Gentlemen dining here with the Governor, and are at present searching for him, my Father, Governor Bligh. I believe he would wish to rally his Supporters amongst you, particularly those loyal inhabitants of the Hawkesbury Region, but this may prove impossible. We are greatly outnumbered. The Soldiers are drunk and behaving outrageously in this place. I do not know exactly who is leading this criminal behaviour. Major Johnston’s name is mentioned and others of the Officers, but I believe Macarthur is to blame. Thanks to the bravery of this young girl, you …
‘She could not finish the writing,’ said Kitty. ‘It was then that the Soldiers brought in the Governor so she slipped the note to me and pressed me to leave.’
‘Have they harmed him?’ said Mr Lewin.
‘I do not believe so,’ said Kitty, ‘but who knows what has happened since I left?’
There was suddenly a great banging on the door and one of the neighbours burst in.
‘The Soldiers are coming,’ he said. ‘They are checking every house. There is free grog for all. Bonfires are being lit all over town. Each must light up his house to celebrate what has happened tonight.
For a moment longer we huddled in the room.
‘I should go home,’ said Uncle George. ‘When your Aunt hears of this she will fear for our safety. But we must resist. We must.’
‘We can do nothing tonight,’ said Mr Lewin. ‘Let us all go to my house. They will not connect me to any of the events and cooler heads may prevail in the morning. We can decide what to do then.’
Mistress Gore refused this invitation. She said there were papers that she wished to hide and she needed to stay with her children. Besides, she wished to wait for news of her husband.
So we slipped out the back door and made our way through the alleyways and lanes. The air was filled with the smell of bonfires. Their glare illuminated the night sky and showed to us the streets filled with drunken Soldiers and scared citizenry, us amongst them.
It is now past two o’clock in the morning. My candle is almost gone and my wrist aches. Uncle George and Mr Lewin have retired. Kitty and Ralph went long ago. I trust they have reached home safely.
I have just reread the words written here about this day. It is a terrible thing indeed and we do not know what tomorrow will bring. Would that it were a dream—but that is childish thinking and there is no place for such anymore.
Wednesday 27th January
I have woken to a silent world. The sun is high in the sky and my Uncle and Mr Lewin are nowhere to be found. Abraham says that they told him not to disturb me, that they had some business to attend to and that they would return before noon.
It is almost that now.
Are things as they were last night? Is the Governor still prisoner? Indeed, is he still alive?
Did we dream the whole event?
There is a banging on the door. I will continue later.
Later
It was Kitty at the door, with Ralph. They are no longer shy of visiting me here. It seems everything i
s changed by last night. I read my account to them and they were pleased and admiring of the way in which I had told our story.
They were still with me when my Uncle and Mr Lewin returned. They gathered us around the table. I have never seen Uncle George so serious and so measured in his words.
‘These are fearful and perilous times,’ he said. ‘Davy, I am struggling to decide if we should return home immediately. Your Aunt and all those who live beyond Sydney Town will no doubt hear of what has happened late this evening or in the morning. I must reassure her that we are well. But more than that, we must organise resistance to this unlawful Rebellion.’
‘But you cannot fight them, Sir,’ said Ralph.
‘You are better off leaving this place, George,’ said Mr Lewin. ‘You are known as a critic of the Soldiers in the Court. They will have copies of your Petition from the New Year. You will be a marked man.’
‘Will they arrest you, as they have arrested Sergeant Gore?’ said Kitty.
Uncle George nodded, ‘Possibly. And Gore is not the only one. They have sacked the Magistrates and Soldiers take their place now. They have dismissed good honest servants of the Governor from any and every position.’
At that moment shots rang out, loud cannon fire. We recoiled at first, and then realised this was not a bombardment but a salute. Full twenty-one guns sounded. Uncle George’s face went pale. He shook his head and then banged both fists on the table, too overcome to speak more.
After a few minutes, Kitty ventured to talk softly to him. ‘Sir, my Mother wished me to come and speak with you.’
This roused him. ‘Yes?’
‘She is very sorry to ask this, Sir, but she fears for my safety and she is very keen that I should go back to my Father. She will stay until her Brother’s ship returns but she is very concerned that my deception of last night might be discovered and the Soldiers may find me.’
‘And are you afraid?’ said my Uncle, kindly.
She shook her head. ‘I can run and hide from any slow, drunk old Soldier. I have done it often enough.’
‘Go home to your Mother,’ he said. ‘Tell her we travel in the morning, early. You are very welcome to join us.’
Still later
We are at Ralph’s house. This afternoon, my Uncle and I went down to the harbour to finalise receipt of the vines. They were packed in boxes waiting for us and after we had signed for them Uncle George and Abraham loaded the boxes onto a handcart and began hauling them along Spring Street.
We were stopped by an Officer of the Corps. ‘Mr Suttor,’ he claimed in a loud voice, such that passers-by turned and looked.
‘Yes?’ said my Uncle.
‘I am sure you would like to sign,’ said the Officer and he waved a document in front of my Uncle’s face.
Uncle George took the papers and began to read.
‘All respectable, upright citizens are signing,’ said the Officer. ‘This is their demand that Major Johnston take over the administration of the colony.’
‘Something he has already done, I believe,’ said Uncle George and he handed the document back. ‘I will not sign. You can tell Major Johnston that I am one respectable citizen who believes that he has unlawfully seized the rightful Governor. I am a loyal subject of His Royal Majesty and I will see your Major Johnston tried for Treason.’
The Officer was dumbfounded. But Uncle George had not finished. ‘Not only him—I include in my accusation the mastermind of this whole affair, Captain John Macarthur. Good day, Sir.’
By the time the Officer had recovered we had taken up the handcart and were pushing it past the public houses on the corner of Church Row.
‘Just you wait till Major Johnston hears this,’ yelled the Officer.
Uncle George did not reply.
Abraham coughed. ‘If I were you, Sir, which I am not, and with respect, Sir, I would be leaving town before tomorrow. In fact, Sir, I would be leaving as soon as I could get transport organised.’
‘You are right,’ said Uncle George grimly.
‘And a further suggestion, Sir,’ said Abraham. ‘Have you ever thought of going by boat? The young fellow who was with Davy lives over by the water. He must know the watermen. Maybe his Mother could organise something quickly for you. I could keep your vines here in Sydney Town and look after them. It is too hot to put them in the ground. There is water enough at Mr Lewin’s place. They will keep and you can collect them when all this blows over and you come back to town.’
‘You are very kind,’ said my Uncle. ‘I will accept. The sooner I am back with Sarah and our children, the better things will be.’
So here we are. It is almost nightfall. Kitty is ready and Uncle George is finalising his dealings with a man whom Ralph brought to the door just a short time ago. He says the Easterly wind will have us in Parramatta in less than no time and we can be at Chelsea Farm before nightfall tomorrow. How I wish I were there already curled up on my bed, hearing only the sound of children breathing.
Friday 29th January
That trip has made me feel that perhaps I am not afraid of sailing after all. The river was almost as level as glass, dark blue-black glass. Clouds covered the moon so we were grateful that the boatman knew his path well. Bonfires burned on the hills along the water for the first half an hour of our trip.
‘That big one will be Major Johnston’s place,’ he said, indicating the glow along the Southern bank. ‘His estates are there, Annandale.’
The red sail flapped lightly above us and the boatman and my Uncle talked in low voices. Kitty slept. I trailed my hand in the water, staring down into the darkness.
I remembered then a moment when I was about five years old. I went with my Father and my Mother on a picnic—perhaps it was Midsummer—and I rode my Father’s shoulders as we went along the Great Canal. At one point he crossed the lock and I recall he stood and talked admiringly of the engineering feat that heralded such an age of prosperity for the land. On and on he talked and I just stared down at the blue water swirling into the lock and there was a small fish, a silver flash of fin and body, swirling too, downwards, ever downwards.
Why did such a thought come to me, sitting in a small sailing boat on a wide expanse of water on a warm Summer night on the other side of the World?
Friday 5th February
Less than two months ago I vowed that I would write in this log every day. How hard it is to keep to that resolution. This place seems quiet after our days in Sydney Town.
On our return we were welcomed with great concern. The word of the Rebellion had come before us and Kitty and I were greeted with much attention. I was astonished that my Uncle sent word to Kitty’s Father that he should come to the house to fetch her. When he came I watched my Uncle closely and although he did not move to shake the man by the hand, he did not treat him unkindly. In fact he spoke warmly of Kitty’s bravery.
We told our story many times—to Aunt Sarah, to the men of the O’Farrell family, to Mr McDougall, Mr Smith and to others whose names I do not know. Sometimes as we speak it seems so fantastical that I wonder if it really happened like that at all. I am glad that Kitty is there to share the truth of the tale.
There is such a feeling of gloom here. No bonfires from the people of these farms. Each day my Uncle watches anxiously for a rider to come with news of what is happening in Sydney but each day the dust on the road brings only neighbours with questions in their eyes.
Saturday 6th February
It is hard to sleep. I lie in bed and in my mind I see the flaming torches and the red jackets of the Soldiers. I feel I am back, caught in the bushes, hearing the shouting and jeering of the men and seeing the moonlight glint off the bayonets coming closer and closer. Does Kitty have these waking dreams?
Sunday 7th February
When does Summer end in this land? I wish I were a fish and could swim in the ocean and never feel the sun’s rays directly on my body. I walked with my Uncle this morning and he showed me all the fruit trees in the orcha
rd. It was cool beneath the branches of the peach trees and the apricot. The trees have recovered from the storm and the fruit that survived the hail is now ripe.
‘There would have been ten times the amount we now have,’ he said and he pulled some fruit down and handed it to me saying, ‘I should be here at the farm, thinking of nothing but growing my fruits and my vegetables.’ I bit into a juicy peach. ‘I suppose you have never tasted these before.’
I had not but I tried them and although they were a little strange at first I did enjoy them. I preferred the peach.
‘We will have you fattened up and strong and healthy again,’ my Uncle said.
Monday 8th February
It was so hot today that I went with Georgie to the creek that runs through the land beyond the orchard. We sat on a rock and trailed our feet in the water and he asked me for the hundredth time to tell him about the night of the Rebellion.
He complains that he should have been allowed to go. He says that he would have been brave and stood up to the Soldiers. To distract him, I kicked up great sprays of water and then he joined in and we shouted and splashed and made each other so wet and cool that I felt better than I have for a long time.
Wednesday 10th February
We went to the creek again. This time Jim was there because it was after lunch and they do not work till after two o’clock. He was lying on his back, floating in the water and he looked so cool that Georgie asked him to teach us how to do it.
We sat on the rocks as before and then pushed away a little, keeping our hands on the bottom. One of my hands slipped and I sank and came up spluttering with my mouth, my eyes and my nose all filled with creek water. Jim can float on his front as well as his back.
The Rum Rebellion Page 6