Читать книгу Red O'shaughnessy - J H M Abbott - Страница 6

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THE transport Admiral Gambier's arrival in Port Jackson had been expected for a short while before she passed between the Heads, a fishing-boat having sighted her south of Botany Bay on the evening before her arrival. As a consequence, the Naval Officer—Harbor Master and Collector of Customs—had boarded her in Watson's Bay almost immediately after her entrance on the following morning, so that she was but little delayed by the usual business incidental to a vessel's arrival in the port. Leave had been given her to proceed at once to her allotted anchorage off the town of Sydney, and at midday, as has been recorded in the previous chapter, she dropped anchor in the mouth of the little bay round the head of which clustered the quaint village that was the capital of New South Wales in 1812.

When Red O'Shaughnessy made his first acquaintance with the little town he was to know so well in the future, and whose growth into something better than it was in 1812 he was to witness in the coming years, it was a primitive place indeed. A description of the conditions then obtaining in it, written by an authority on the Macquarie period—Mr. J. P. McGuanne—gives us some idea of the community into the midst of which the young Irishman was about to make intrusion. It refers specifically to the year 1816, but may very well stand as a brief description of the social aspect of New South Wales at the time when Red O'Shaughnessy landed in the country.

Practically, Sydney and its immediate neighborhood were all there was of British Australasia in 1812—with the Derwent settlement in Van Diemen's Land (Tasmania) as an outlying dependency. There was no real settlement, save in the districts immediately about Port Jackson and the Hawkesbury. Outside a strip of coastal country, not more than 80 miles long and half as wide, the colony did not exist. To the north was the rude and severe penal settlement at the Coal River—as the Hunter was still most familiarly called—and to the south there were the Cow Pastures, and a few scattered cedar-getters in the Illawarra. Between the sea and the hitherto impenetrable wall of the Blue Mountains, an indifferently hospitable terrain afforded hardly more than a mere subsistence to its scattered inhabitants.

"In Sydney and the remaining towns," says Mr. McGuanne, "we find that jail-gangs did the scavenging; oil lamps and home-made tallow candles supplied light to the houses, supplemented in bush circles by 'guano oil and 'possum fat; fires were lighted by the aid of tinder boxes, flint and steel, or sun-glasses; resuscitated by leather bellows or puffs of breath; snuffers were constantly in use, so were spills, and brooms were made from any brush. Houses of the poor had brick floors, when not of trodden clay, causing the inmates to suffer from 'rheumatiz' and 'brownchitis.' Cups, mugs, spoons, platters, bowls, and saucers were of iron, tin or wood. People were not food-faddy; 'rheubar'-pie, pumpkin-pie, or wholemeal bread baked in 'drippin',' was considered a luxury for Sunday. Soups were made from wallaby or 'possum bones. A wooden trough, or the end of a hollow log, embedded in clay, was used for holding water when empty wine barrels were not procurable.

"In the best houses well-executed pencil sketches by Lewin's pupils decorated the walls; bells were suspended from elastic ropes, and door-knockers were considered an ornament. Buildings of slab, weatherboard—chiefly whip-sawed or bricknog—were painted blue; ploughs, water-butts, barrows, carts, and front fences were a darker blue. So heterogeneous were the articles exposed for sale that would-be humorists have quoted their unique assortment in order to raise a smile in England. Early hours of retirement dispensed with the consumption of trade oil. Numerous sign-boards protruded in every street. The husband looked after his trade or workshop, while the wife attended to the counter.

"... As a rule the inhabitants were hard drinkers, crotchetty, narrow-minded, ignorant, and often tyrannical, impressing their narrow views upon each batch of new colonists. Women shared in laborious duties. Their daughters, compelled to live in the back-wash, became bashful and awkward in demeanor, insipidly sentimental, and elaborately stiff, when not unctuous, during a social interview. Romances, even if available, dared not be read by unmarried females. The humming of a spinning-wheel, the dashing of a churn, or the grinding of corn in the steel mill were more often heard than the music of a piano. At five o'clock on Sunday evenings promenaders wended their way to Hyde Park to listen to the band of the . . . Regiment, while interchanging small talk and scurrility."

As soon as the Admiral Gambier had been brought up to her moorings, and the sails furled, numerous boats from the shore put off to the ship, but were warned off by the sentries. The Naval Officer had left instructions that no one was to land, or no visitors admitted to the transport until he should give orders to that effect. In the meantime the prisoners were kept busy in cleaning out their quarters and getting themselves ready for disembarkation.

Within an hour's time, the Naval Officer again boarded the transport, and warned Dr. Moriarty to be prepared for a vice-regal visit.

"The Governor is coming off to you this afternoon, Doctor," he said—"so mind your p's and q's, for Mr. Macquarie's a great stickler for having things done properly. Be sure and see to it that your military officer has the guard under arms, and all ready to accord him a salute so soon as he sets foot upon the quarter-deck. His Excellency's very precise in these matters. And have the convicts paraded on deck, amidship, for his inspection. He'll be here sharp at 3 o'clock. You know the Governor, I think."

"Oh, yes," replied the Surgeon-Superintendent with a little smile—"indeed I do, and I can promise you, sir, that everything will be strictly 'comme il faut' as regards the ship and her passengers."

It was a little before three when the Governor's boat was observed to be putting off from the jetty below Government House. The prisoners were immediately ordered to form up in a double rank in the waist of the ship on the port side, and the whole of the military detachment, under the lieutenant and ensign in charge of it, fell in with fixed bayonets on the quarter-deck. They were more spick and span than O'Shaughnessy had hitherto seen them, and every button glittered in the sunshine, while their cross-belts were pipe-clayed to a snowy whiteness. Everybody in the ship wore the best clothes he had, and the Captain's blue cloth coat was in imminent danger of splitting at the seams, since the worthy master of the Admiral Gambier had put on flesh during the voyage.

The boat came alongside in man-o'-war fashion, the crew tossing their oars, as the bow-man hooked on to the side ladder. Dr. Moriarty and the Captain stood at the gangway to receive him, and, with the soldiers presenting arms, and the prisoners bare-headed, His Excellency, Colonel Lachlan Macquarie, C.B., Captain-General and Governor-in-chief in and over His Majesty's Territory of New South Wales, stepped onto the quarter-deck of the Admiral Gambier. He halted at the gangway, and returned the salute with stiff and impressive dignity. Then he turned to Dr. Moriarty and the Captain, and shook hands with them.

"A good voyage, I trust, gentlemen?" he said.

"Excellent, your Excellency," replied the Surgeon.

"Ah—delighted to hear it. I will inspect the guard, sir, and then the prisoners. I should like to say a few words to the convicts before I leave the ship."

"Faith, thin," whispered Red O'Shaughnessy to his right hand neighbor in the ranks of the prisoners, "'tis th' rale McGuinness his High Mightiness is. Divil a doubt of it! An' 'tis not himself I'd be afther thryin' for to cross. He's got a look about him, so he has!"

The young Irishman was right. Macquarie certainly had "a look about him"—a look of stern and unbending uprightness, it was, of a stiff dignity that was almost grotesque, of natural kindness that could never degenerate into weak leniency, a little of pomposity and of energetic determination. No one could regard the rigid soldierly aspect of Governor Macquarie without realising that he looked upon a Man. At this time be was fifty-one years of age, not much beyond his prime, and his broad shoulders and sturdy build gave him a look of physical strength that his constant activities did not belie. His face was sun-tanned almost to swarthiness by his many years of service in India, and he limped slightly, because of an old wound in the leg.

After he had done with the guard, he addressed the convicts, his bright dark eyes seeming to size each individual up, as his quick gaze shifted from one to another of them whilst he spoke.

"Now, my men," he said, "I hear from your Surgeon-Superintendent that you have had a fine passage and are all in good health. You will be disembarked to-morrow, and your lives in New South Wales will begin. What you make of them is in your own hands. This is a penal colony, and its discipline is necessarily severe, but honest effort, sobriety, and industry will do much to ameliorate the lot of each one of you. There are many temptations to be overcome here, and fortitude and resolution are very necessary for those who wish to live down past errors and indiscretions. But every one of you has a chance of redeeming the past and of enjoying a prosperous future. Those who persist in evil courses will find their transgressions rewarded with fitting severity. I wish you all well in your future life here. Do your best. That is all I have to say to you."

His gaze wandered up and down the double rank of prisoners, as though he were searching for someone in particular. He turned to the military officer who had accompanied him aboard, and asked him a question in a low tone. He nodded to the reply, and again faced the uneven ranks of convicts.

"I desire," he said, "to speak with Edward O'Shaughnessy. Pray step forward, O'Shaughnessy."

Bewildered by the suddenness of this distinction, Red O'Shaughnessy did not move immediately. He stood gaping at the Governor, and it was not until his name was repeated again by Macquarie that he awoke to what was required of him.

"Edward O'Shaughnessy?" said his Excellency again, scanning the ranks of the prisoners.

"Come, come, O'Shaughnessy—you're not deaf! Step out here immediately," cried Dr. Moriarty peremptorily and impatiently. "Be quick about it, my man!"

Hesitantly, the tall young Irishman took a couple of paces to the front, and stood before the Governor, his red head flaming in the afternoon sunlight and his cap in his hand. He raised a crooked forefinger to his right eyebrow in the convict salute. Macquarie looked him over in a kindly fashion, and nodded his approval.

"You are Edward O'Shaughnessy, in whom the Earl of Crawshow takes an interest?"

"Yes, sorr. I'm known to his Lor-rudship. 'Twas him saved me from th' gallows."

"Well then, my good fellow, I wish to see you immediately at the Government House. You will be so kind as to give this man permission to get his belongings from below, Mr. Surgeon-Superintendent, and to accompany me ashore when I leave the ship presently. I have some special employment for him. Captain Antill," he turned to his aide-de-camp, "will you please take charge of the prisoner?"

"Off with you and get your things, O'Shaughnessy," said Dr. Moriarty.

The thoroughly bewildered young Irishman went down the hatchway, muttering to the soldier who accompanied him—

"Now, what in God's name does it all mane, I'd ask ye? What'll they be afther doin' wid me wud ye be thinkin', Misther Souldier? Wud it be good or bad, wud ye say, now?"

"Th' werry wust, ginger-top," was the soldiers consoling reply. "I 'spose the' Gov'nor's got horders for to 'ave ye 'ung—to do wot oughter bin did houtside Noogit. That's abart wot it is, cully."