by David Field
He was unsure of who he might be dealing with, but could hazard a guess that somewhere behind this uprising was an Irish convict named Philip Cunningham, who had been trouble since the day he had been consigned to the unpopular Government Farm in the latest instalment of his life sentence for his part in the Irish Rebellion of 1798. At Castle Hill, Cunningham had flaunted his iconic status among his fellow convicts and had been a constant threat to the somewhat lax security there, given the reluctance of the marine guard to enforce their strict orders for fear that they would be overpowered and slaughtered by the wild Irishman and his fellow rebel companion William Johnston. What passed for a garrison at Castle Hill had also been supplemented by emancipated convicts who were now notionally guarding their former fellow prisoners and fell easy prey to the powerful and charismatic Irishman who talked of escape, rebellion, a ship to China and an Irish Republic in the convict colony.
It was approaching midnight before the breathless messenger disturbed the sleep of everyone at Annandale, Rachel and Martha fearfully gathering their children around them as they listened to the news of the convict mob marching on Parramatta. Martha was beside herself with panic when she realised that Daniel was now the only senior officer between the uprising and Sydney and she pleaded with George to send reinforcements immediately. Instead, George gave the trooper a glass of beer and a beef sandwich, then ordered him to take his own boat across the nearby harbour to alert Governor King.
The women had taken time to dress themselves properly and hide the children, for their own safety, in a back room, by the time that Governor King arrived with a small escort.
‘I’ve put the entire colony under martial law, Major,’ he told George as he shook his head at the glass of wine offered to him by Rachel. ‘I’ve also left word for Lieutenant Dickson at the Sydney Barracks to raise a posse comitatus and I’m riding out immediately to Parramatta with Miles and Potter to review the situation for myself. When the posse arrives, combine them with your own men and join me out there. Who’s in charge at the Parramatta Barracks?’
‘First Lieutenant Bradbury, sir,’ George replied, ‘since Captain Macarthur’s overseas.’
‘Buying more sheep, no doubt? The first major uprising the colony’s seen in sixteen years and the man’s away on business. Anyway, I’m off without any further delay,’ the governor added as he looked back at George and made for the front door. ‘Follow me out as soon as the posse gets here.’
Back in the Barracks — officially known as ‘The Governor’s Domain’ following the construction within it of a fine stone mansion overlooking the parade square — Daniel was considering his options. The only intelligence he had at this stage suggested that his best policy was to remain with the core of his trained troops within the Domain in order to beat off an anticipated attack by a mob of poorly armed, probably untrained and almost certainly badly led convicts. On the other hand, the people caught in lonely homesteads and isolated farms between Parramatta and Castle Hill were entitled to expect protection from a lawless group of desperate men released from bondage and looking for food, drink, weapons and vulnerable females. For the time being, he kept his men at the ‘at ease’ position, but still in their traditional square formation, while he tried to decide what, on balance, was the best course to pursue.
Shortly after midnight there was a commotion at the main gate and one of the posted sentinels yelled back into the parade square, ‘Sir, there’s a man here who claims to have come from the convict lot. Do you want him shot?’
‘No!’ Daniel replied. ‘Send him in to see me at once, but keep your eyes on the road outside, in case he’s a decoy.’
The man was escorted into the square and Daniel kept him at bayonet length in case he had instructions to assassinate whoever was in charge of the Barracks. He was dressed in what remained of a convict uniform and was sweaty and covered in dust and grime as he stood before Daniel, twisting his hands in a nervous gesture as he stared at the bayonet pointing at his gut.
‘Who exactly are you and what do you want?’ Daniel demanded.
The man swallowed hard, then succumbed to a dusty cough before asking for a drink of water. Daniel instructed one of his men to bring it out and the man thanked him profusely before downing it in one eager gulp, belching and explaining his business. ‘Nathan Gridley, sir. A prisoner from the farm out there. Seven years fer burglary and assault, three years left ter serve. I were meant to travel out to Green Hills, out near the Hawkesbury, to tell the other lot that we were on, ’cos our signal fire don’t seem to ’ave worked.’
‘You’re not making sense, Gridley,’ Daniel told him with a frown. ‘Start at the beginning. What’s going on out at the farm?’
‘All the prisoners’ve broken out, sir. The leader’s that mad Irish bastard Cunningham, an’ nobody ’ad the guts ter tell ’im where ’e got off. One’ve the other prisoners — a geezer called Cavanagh — set fire to one o’ the ’uts in the camp. Because it’s on a hill, Cunningham meant the blaze as a signal to other convict groups out west as far as the Hawkesbury, only it seems that they couldn’t’ve seen it, ’cos nobody came. So I was sent ter round ’em up, only I came straight ter warn you, sir. I ’opes as ’ow yer’ll put in a good word for me wi’ the governor, an’ maybe get me sentence reduced, ’cos if Cunningham finds out what I’ve done, ’e’ll slit me throat as soon as look at me.’
‘Where are Cunningham and his men now?’ Daniel asked.
‘On their way over ’ere, sir,’ Gridley replied, the fear evident in his wide eyes. ‘They was plannin’ on stealin’ guns an’ suchlike from farms and the like on the way across, then marching back west to the Hawkesbury ter stage a mass rebellion. They reckon they can get a ship ter take ’em ter China.’
Daniel called a Corporal over from the men standing in the square watching the proceedings. ‘Corporal Denning, take this man to the brig and make sure that he’s fed, watered and guarded, for his own safety. Any attempt on his part to escape from the brig and you have my order to run him through with your bayonet. As for you, Mr. Gridley, if your information turns out to be correct, I’ll be sure to let the governor know of your brave work tonight.’
The rebels led by Cunningham came upon them an hour later, running up the dusty road from the north-west. As the first of them dropped under a hail of musket fire from the compound fence, the rest scattered into the scrub, where they lay for some minutes before crawling away and reforming well out of musket range, in a surly crowd whose loud and arguing voices could be heard from the parade square. Then the arguing seemed to fizzle out after a few loud shouts and in the half light of a waning moon on a cloudy night the would-be attackers appeared to slink back to wherever they had come from.
Daniel stood his men down with instructions that they were to keep their weapons loaded, but to refresh themselves in the mess room and await further orders. He doubled the watch on the gate, supplementing, with rostered groups of his own men, the volunteers who were eager to rush out and suppress any possible attacks on the vulnerable properties that they had left unguarded and which in many cases contained their women and children. It was time to await reinforcements and further orders.
Daniel was leaning against the Commissary door, swallowing a lukewarm tin mug of tea laced with goats’ milk, when he heard the thundering of hooves from the south-east, along the road that now linked Parramatta with Sydney, followed by a shouted challenge from the front gate. There was a responding yell from whoever was seeking access to the Domain and Daniel lurched to attention as he recognised the burly figure of Governor King and the black hats of his mounted escort, as they halted in the centre of the square and leaped from their saddles. Daniel yelled for grooms to tend to the horses in what passed for a stables block in what was essentially an infantry barracks, then stepped forward out of the gloom of the doorway and saluted.
‘First Lieutenant Bradbury, sir. Acting Commandant of the Domain.’
Governor King snorted as he dusted down his tu
nic. ‘I hope your men are better trained in fighting the enemy than they are at recognising their own governor,’ he replied. ‘Some oaf at the gate was offering to shoot at us.’
‘In the main, they’re only local volunteers, sir,’ Daniel told him. ‘My fulltime force are taking a refreshment break awaiting further orders.’
‘A refreshment break?’ Governor King thundered back. ‘Why aren’t they out there, suppressing this uprising?’
‘Because, sir,’ Daniel explained as diplomatically as he could, ‘our first priority must be to guard your Domain and we don’t have enough men to go scouring the countryside at dead of night.’
‘You soon will have,’ King replied. ‘There’s a full garrison from Sydney, plus a civilian posse, heading out behind us under the command of Major Johnston. I’ve brought Miles and Potter with me, as you can see.’
Daniel breathed a sigh of relief, then felt a pang of alarm when he realised that this would have left the women and children defenceless unless George had retained the presence of mind to leave men behind at Annandale. Putting the thought away for the moment, he offered to take the governor and his escort into the Mess for some refreshment.
‘Might as well,’ King replied, ‘since Johnston and his lot are a good hour behind us.’
In fact, a pale March sunrise was appearing beyond the hills to the east before a weary force of almost a hundred men tramped up the dusty road, with George ahead of them on his horse, accompanied by a uniformed lieutenant from Sydney who Daniel had never met. Orders were yelled for the latest arrivals to be granted entry through the gate and Daniel hurried forward to greet George as he eased himself from the saddle with a muted oath.
‘No wonder I opted for the marines. Thank God I wasn’t posted to Cavalry — my arse feels like it’s on fire.’
‘Are the women and children OK?’ Daniel asked with his heart in his mouth.
‘Of course,’ George assured him. ‘Martha says to take care and to shoot the one responsible for Rebecca being woken after she’d just got her to sleep for the third time.’
‘You left someone guarding them, I hope?’
George gave him the benefit of a disapproving look. ‘That’s why I’m a major, Lieutenant — I can think and scratch my balls at the same time. As for the Macarthur family down the road there, I’ve had them taken in that fancy wagon of theirs back to the Harbour, where they can take a ship to England if things go wrong out here. Now, tell me what’s happening and why you’re still in barracks. I take it that the governor arrived?’
‘He’s on his third pot of coffee,’ Daniel replied, ‘and he seems to be getting more uppity by the mug full. Wants to know why we’re not out there fertilising his precious farm with convict blood and I’ll give you the same answer I gave him — give me the men and I’ll do the job.’
‘Have you seen anything of the convicts?’
‘They tried to attack the Domain during the night. They left a few dead in the Castle Hill road out there, then ran back from whence they came, as the Bible puts it.’
‘On foot?’
‘No sign of any horses that I could see, but there must be several hundred of them and I doubt if the entire colony has as many horses as that.’
‘They can have this sorry nag,’ George commented as he yelled for someone to take its bridle. ‘Now then, lead me to the governor.’
They sat around the only serviceable table in the Officers’ Mess, drinking coffee, munching on hot bread that the cook had been hauled out of bed to bake and debating tactics. George was particularly interested to learn that the leaders of the rebellion appeared to be Irish Catholics.
‘You got any priests living locally?’ he asked Daniel.
‘There’s Father Dixon here in the Domain,’ Daniel responded. ‘He’s a lazy fat loafer most of the time and according to what I’ve heard his penances all take liquid form, but I suppose one cleric is as good as another.’
‘I’d remind you, Lieutenant, that the Church of Rome is directly descended from St. Peter, who was our Lord’s chosen vessel for the creation of the Christian faith,’ King interrupted and Daniel reddened slightly before George came to his rescue.
‘Forgive my lieutenant if he seemed somewhat irreverent just then, Governor, but my point is that we would be wise to take with us, when we seek to parley with these Irish peasants, someone whose authority they respect, since they clearly don’t respect ours.’
‘Good point,’ King conceded. ‘How many men will you take with you and when exactly did you propose to stop drinking this dreadful coffee and get out and restore some sort of military authority over the surrounding countryside?’
George deliberately refilled his mug from the pot before replying. ‘It’s probably as long since I walked twenty odd miles at the double march as it is since you did, Governor, but I think we may reasonably conclude that the Sydney troops at our command are right now nursing sore feet and examining their boots for holes. They clearly need a good rest before we can order them back onto their feet, but what I propose is that I ride ahead with Lieutenant Miles and offer the rebels surrender terms.’
‘Surrender?’ King bellowed. ‘These men are in armed rebellion against my authority and you suggest that we offer them surrender terms?’
‘If we can persuade them to surrender,’ George argued coolly and levelly, ‘we won’t be risking the lives of any of our men. The uprising will be over, law and order will have been restored and our point will have been made that we still run the colony.’
King glared at Daniel. ‘Do you share this madness with your Major?’ he demanded.
Daniel looked him firmly in the eye as he replied, ‘I follow the Major’s orders, sir.’
The governor looked round for support from the two officers who had ridden out to Parramatta with him, both of whom sheepishly agreed that surrender without loss of men was a positive outcome, if it could be achieved. King conceded the point with bad grace and asked what use George intended to make of those soldiers who had spent the night in the security of the Domain.
‘I propose,’ George replied, ‘that Lieutenant Bradbury here takes his men to Castle Hill, in order to assess the damage and restore our authority.’
King nodded his assent and the matter was settled without Daniel even being consulted. What he discovered, when he and a dozen armed troopers breasted the rise and surveyed the remains of the governor’s highly-prized Government Farm, was a tangled collection of demolished and still smouldering convict huts, a dead convict guard lying in a congealed, fly-plagued welter of his own blood, a Commissary hut empty of anything that might be of use to a fighting man on the march and several dead cattle and sheep, lying where they had fallen after their throats had been cut.
They then set about the dismal process of checking with outlying farmstead owners regarding the fates that had befallen them once the convicts had broken loose. Scores of men had been obliged, out of fear for their lives, or those of their loved ones, to join the power-crazed mob, while scores of their womenfolk told, through the blank, shattered set of their eyes, how they had fared at the hands of beasts who had been without women until unleashed into the surrounding countryside with all the moral authority with which possession of an axe or knife could imbue them.
Daniel was sickened by it all and, leaving the men who had ridden out with him to make what effort they could to restore normality, he rode slowly and alone back to the Domain, trying to imagine how he could have survived with his sanity intact if those at the mercy of the convicts had been his own wife and family.
George rode with Lieutenant Miles and caught up with the rebel horde on its way back towards Constitution Hill. There were still several hundred of them and they laughed and jeered as they watched George and Lieutenant Miles approach slowly on horseback, accompanied by a fat priest on a donkey who appeared to be attempting to recreate Christ’s entry into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday.
Miles was sent forward first and he asked to speak to the
ir leader. A surly looking man still dressed in his convict garb stepped forward from the group at the foot of the hill and answered the question.
‘I’m Phil Cunningham and these men are the new army of the recently created Free Irish Republic of New South Wales. Who might you be, soldier boy?’
‘William Miles, lieutenant in the New South Wales Corps, acting as envoy for my commanding officer Major George Johnston.’
‘And what does Major Johnston command of us, bearing in mind that we outnumber you, on my count, by some one hundred to one?’
‘Your peaceful surrender,’ Miles demanded, his head held high.
Cunningham burst out laughing. ‘You amuse me, soldier boy, so I will not have your head torn from your body. Return to your Major and tell him from the President of the Free Irish Republic of New South Wales to stick his surrender terms up his arse.’
Miles turned his mount and rode sedately back to where George and Father Dixon sat awaiting his return.
‘Well?’ George demanded.
‘He declined our offer, sir,’ Miles replied diplomatically.
‘Well, we did offer,’ George responded with a grin. ‘Go back down the road and don’t reappear up it again until you have the combined foot brigades with you. Then line them up here and await further orders.’
Miles nodded and rode off back down the track. George urged his horse forward and reined it in where Miles had been parleying earlier with Cunningham, who had now been joined by fellow conspirators and was grinning wildly.
‘Decided that your arse isn’t big enough to shove your surrender terms up it, have you?’ he crowed.
George smiled back pleasantly. ‘I see that you have retained all the manners that your bog-infected whore of a mother bequeathed you, so I won’t seek to engage you in civilised conversation regarding the immediate futures of your syphilitic bodies. But you might wish to consider the state of your souls. As you can see, I have a priest with me and he seeks the opportunity to offer you God’s grace and comfort before you launch yourselves into the fires of Hell.’
