by David Field
‘Leave all that for the moment,’ George instructed him, ‘and come and reassure our illustrious governor that his correspondence is now in the hands of someone whose reading and writing skills were not confined to the race track.’
Governor King sniffed when he recognised Daniel, but gestured them both into seats in front of his long mahogany desk. ‘The last time we met, Lieutenant, you were apologising for the quality of the coffee out at Rose Hill Barracks and assuring me that you simply follow Major Johnston’s orders. But they were well carried out, from what I’ve been informed. Thank you for your graphic account of the hangings and floggings, by the way. A job well done.’
George placed a restraining hand on Daniel’s arm as the latter turned white with fury and grabbed the conversation before the silence could prove too inviting for his hot-headed subordinate. ‘Lieutenant Bradbury here will be replacing Lieutenant Miles, in response to your request to have someone available who understands the mysteries of the English language. He’ll be residing at Annandale for the time being, but a land grant of his own might make it easier for him to perform his duties.’
While Daniel raised his eyebrows in mute surprise, King got up and walked to the side wall, where he studied a map of the area for a moment before responding.
‘We could do with filling up that area to the west of your estate, Major,’ he observed. ‘At present it’s just a useless wasteland between one of the bays and the Parramatta Road and it would be good to have a marine officer settled there, to add to our security.’
And to add to the insecurity of the family that lives there, Daniel thought, but remained silent.
King continued, ‘Five acres, from the foreshore to the road — take your pick of which five, then talk to the Surveyor-General and have him mark out the plot and arrange the conveyance.’
‘Thank you, sir,’ Daniel said.
‘Think nothing of it,’ King replied. ‘It’s only in order that you may carry out your duties more efficiently. And you’ll soon be earning that land, trust me — Lieutenant Miles left his desk looking like a dog’s breakfast.’
Three weeks later, by which time Daniel had finally got his head around the procedural protocols within the governor’s office and was meeting regularly with George to arrange the disposition of Corps ‘troopers’, as they were now called, he and Martha were standing at the top of a small rise looking down at one of the harbour’s many inlets. Before them was a field of scrub and some distance behind them the road to Parramatta that was in effect the extension to the road that had once led to the brickworks and had run past their first hut. Sarah was back at Annandale with the children and they held hands like first-time sweethearts, taking in the sun’s rays bouncing off the calm water below them and imagining rolling lawns and ornamental gardens.
‘This is obviously the best place for the house,’ Martha announced. ‘We can sit on the front veranda of an evening and gaze at the water while we sip elderflower champagne and watch the children playing on the lawns.’
Daniel frowned slightly. ‘I think you’ll find that this view will be from the back of the house, strictly speaking. Since the road is back there behind us, the obvious front of the house will face the road. The governor’s very graciously offered to sell me one of his carriages — the one with the canvas roof. It’s not very grand, but it only needs one horse to pull it and I’m getting a sore bottom from riding a saddle to work and back every day. I can just imagine a sweeping approach to the front door and the kids running out to meet me when I come home every evening.’
‘Will you be able to use convict labour?’ she asked.
Daniel smiled. ‘There have to be some advantages in putting up with the governor’s pompous prattle every day. He’s left convict allocations to me, so what do you think?’
‘When do they start and when can we move in? And will Matthew get his own tutor, or will he have to travel down the road to George’s place every day?’
‘Too many questions all at once,’ Daniel chided her gently as he kissed the tip of her nose. ‘We haven’t even given the place a name yet. Any ideas?’
‘How about “Bradbury House”?’
‘That doesn’t really do justice to the land as a whole. We need a name like the one George chose for Annandale, where he was born. I grew up in a sleepy village south of Bristol called “Ridley Magna”, which doesn’t quite sound right for a New South Wales park. Where did you grow up? Somewhere in Wiltshire, wasn’t it?’
‘Trowbridge, although I was actually born in my mother’s parents’ house in a village called Haberfield. It was only a church, an inn and a big house in its own grounds and it became part of Yarnbrook when my grandparents died and the estate was sold to a dairy farmer. But “Haberfield” would do, unless you have any better ideas.’
‘Welcome to Haberfield,’ Daniel replied, as he squeezed her waist tightly.
19
In July 1805, the colony welcomed back John Macarthur, whose cabin bag was stuffed with export contracts for pure Merino lambs’ wool drawn up by lawyers acting for merchants in Manchester and Liverpool. George appeared in the doorway of Daniel’s office two days after the anchoring of the Argo and peered in. Assuring himself that Daniel was alone in his office and having doubled-checked behind him that the corridor was empty, he sidled in and took the chair in front of Daniel’s desk.
‘Have you had a chance to open all the despatches from London?’
‘Some of them,’ Daniel replied. ‘Did you have one in particular in mind?’
‘There must be something there from the Army Office,’ George said in a low conspiratorial voice. ‘I got one advising me that Macarthur’s resigned his commission and that I need a new captain.’
‘Well don’t look at me,’ Daniel replied. ‘I’ll be handing in my ticket any time now. What’s the problem?’
‘I just can’t imagine the old rogue waving goodbye to a captain’s stipend unless he was either very sure of his sheep business, or he was forced into it. His old crow of a wife’s putting it around that he was offered another five thousand acres in return for his valiant work out here in the colony, which as we both know consisted largely of shearing woolly arses and Rachel wants me to find out the truth, so that she can ruin the next dinner party by announcing it over the candles.’
Daniel grinned. ‘Remind me never to get on the wrong side of your wife. In the meantime, there’s a court martial despatch bag on your side of the desk. If you choose to open it, I can hardly prevent my commanding officer supervising my work.’
George broke the seals gleefully, then rustled through half a dozen copied reports of courts martial held in London during the previous year until he found the one he was looking for and let out a joyful chuckle. ‘Here it is! He was apprehended in London for dereliction of duty, but escaped a court martial because, according to him, the slack way in which the colony was being run by the governor made it impossible for him to perform his duties as an officer of His Majesty’s forces. The Judge-Advocate announced that, and I quote, “for the sake of harmony within this vital colony, any alleged irregularity on the part of the prisoner will not be investigated further, until such time as His Majesty’s Secretary of State for the Colonies can investigate other divers complaints regarding the administration of the Colony of New South Wales.” What does all that mean in English?’
Daniel leaned forward and lowered his voice. ‘Yesterday, the governor got me to draft a request from him for leave of absence while a wholesale enquiry was undertaken regarding his running of the colony. He’s been advised in previous despatches that letters of complaint have been travelling back to London by almost every departing vessel regarding how he’s conducting himself out here. He’s hopping mad and believes that someone is co-ordinating the whole thing at this end.’
George tapped his nose in the time-honoured gesture of secrecy and whispered back, ‘My money’s on Elizabeth Macarthur. She’s forever complaining that John isn’t getting the support
and recognition that he deserves. I think she fancies herself as the governor’s wife.’
‘God help us if she succeeds,’ Daniel groaned.
‘That brings me to the bad news,’ George added. ‘Elizabeth’s organising a homecoming supper to celebrate John’s safe return and we’re all commanded to attend. Rachel will never forgive Martha if she ducks out of it, leaving Rachel at the mercy of the old bag’s snobby tongue and if Martha does duck out of it, I’ll never forgive you.’
Daniel groaned. ‘When is it?’
‘Saturday evening. And it’s best bib and tucker.’
The appointed day came only too quickly and Daniel braced himself for the usual catty exchanges across the dinner table as the former convict servants served dish after elegant dish. But to his surprise Elizabeth Macarthur seemed too distracted by some other matter to engage in her usual loud proclamations of John’s estimation within the community and the correspondingly humbler achievements of others. However, Daniel winced and glanced quickly at Rachel’s frosty expression as Elizabeth launched into a hand-waving description of the additional acreage that John had been granted ‘from the hand of the Colonial Secretary himself’, to which the entire family would soon be transferring and for which they had already chosen the name ‘Camden Park’, in honour of the Marquess of Camden, Secretary of State for the Colonies, who had granted them the land. It lay half a day’s ride from Annandale and George’s other property at Bankstown lay between the two, with Elizabeth Farm, where they were enjoying supper that evening, to the north-west and as close to Parramatta as Daniel felt comfortable travelling.
As the coffee was served, Elizabeth rose to her feet and announced, ‘We’ll leave the men to discuss their exciting new business project, while we ladies withdraw to the drawing room to consider another momentous matter that has been left in my experienced hands by none other than the Marquess himself.’
As they swept out like a squadron of new-born chicks being led to the water by an old mother hen, Daniel poured himself a glass of port from the circulating decanter and awaited further revelations regarding the ‘exciting new business project’ that Elizabeth had foreshadowed in her departing remarks. He looked back up from the glass and was somewhat taken aback to see John Macarthur staring thoughtfully at him across the table.
‘Daniel, how much law do you know?’
‘Very little, in truth,’ Daniel admitted. ‘My older brother Joseph is the lawyer in the family, why?’
‘Do you want to explain, George?’ Macarthur said.
George looked back down the table at Daniel. ‘I gather that you once imported tobacco from Virginia to Bristol?’
‘Correct,’ Daniel confirmed.
‘What do you know about something called “charterparties?” Have I got the term right?’
‘Charterparties, certainly,’ Daniel agreed. ‘They’re contracts for the loading of a ship with a cargo. I was involved with them all the time. But that was years ago and you still haven’t answered my question. Why is the extent of my legal knowledge suddenly important?’
George looked across at John Macarthur, who picked up the thread.
‘As you probably know from your duties in the governor’s office — and please don’t feel obliged to politely deny it — the governor and I don’t exactly see eye to eye on the direction in which this colony should be heading. For some years now the economic development of New South Wales has hung on the export of my sheep and wool — and to a certain extent George’s cattle — to England. I came back with some important ongoing export contracts for fleeces into Manchester via the Port of Liverpool and I’m only a short step away from being able to export cattle carcases into the Port of London. All I need are the ships and the governor thinks he can spike my guns by denying me access to empty holds on government ships heading back home. But he can’t stop me using my own ships and that’s where you come in, Daniel.’
‘How exactly?’ Daniel asked, still bemused.
‘By chartering the ships for us — George and I, that is. You’re already doing that in a small way, with the cattle from Annandale that you’ve been organising onto government vessels going back via the Cape. We want you to charter your own ships, bring them out here, load them with our produce and send them back to London and Liverpool.’
‘Chartering a ship is an awesome commercial risk,’ Daniel pointed out.
‘One has to speculate in order to accumulate,’ Macarthur replied pompously, ‘and we don’t lack the finance, thanks to my first few successful cargoes. George and I will be going into partnership shortly and we wish to employ you on a full-time basis organising the ocean transport. George assures me that you’re planning on handing in your ticket and we’re within days of signing a lease on the old Commissary Store building, which the government no longer requires. However, if the governor finds out who the intending tenants are, he’ll refuse to sign the lease. Perhaps your good lady could be prevailed upon once again to dust off her acting skills and pose as a newly-arrived free settler with trading ambitions. That’s just the sort of initiative the governor approves of, provided that it has nothing to do with me.’
‘I’m sure she’d be delighted,’ Daniel replied, ‘and I’ll leave it to her to decide what business she’s going to pretend to be in. Then you want me to set up some sort of shipping office, have I got it right?’
‘Exactly right,’ Macarthur confirmed. ‘But you haven’t asked about what’s in it for you — that’s always a good sign in an employee.’
‘What’s in it for me is a real job after I hand in my ticket,’ Daniel replied, almost laughing with schoolboy enthusiasm at the way things were working out — thanks, no doubt, to a beautiful lady who not only shared his bed, but organised his very existence. ‘I wasn’t really looking forward to forfeiting a first lieutenant’s pay.’
‘But I’m afraid you’ll have to,’ George replied teasingly, enjoying the look of confusion that crossed Daniel’s face. ‘However, you’ll presumably enjoy the promotion. We propose that your salary be pegged with that of a captain of marines. As it goes up, so does yours. If we start to make an absolute killing, we’ll obviously slip you more. Are you with us?’
‘You bet your life I am!’ Daniel stood up and shook both men’s hands enthusiastically. ‘I’ll hand in my ticket on Monday and if my information’s correct I can start working for you full-time a month after that.’
He gave Martha the good news as soon as the ladies rejoined them, but was a little nonplussed by the fact that although she hugged and kissed him and made every delighted noise appropriate for a wife happy with her husband’s change of fortune, it was as if she already knew. He put it down to the fact that she’d obviously been working behind the scenes for some time to ensure his honourable resignation from the working life he hated and it wasn’t until she climbed into bed beside him back at Annandale several hours later that he remembered something.
‘What was the “momentous matter” that Elizabeth mentioned?’
‘None of your business, darling, but it’ll fit perfectly with acquiring the lease on the old Commissary Store.’
‘Wives shouldn’t keep secrets from their husbands.’
‘That right? Well, I’ll share a secret with you right now. I’m three months gone.’
Daniel marvelled at how life could turn around so favourably in such a short time and gave thanks to God and the mother who’d brought him into such a wonderful life.
20
Daniel smiled to himself as he signed the discharge document for the latest delivery and handed it back to the mariner who had accompanied the consignment note from the captain’s cabin on board the Parramatta, all the way to the warehouse and head office of the Sydney English Exchange Institute at the far end of the newly-named High Street. On the main floor below Daniel’s office, hired labourers were busily engaged in unloading barrels and boxes of goods as varied as fine French brandy and ornate candle-holders from Birmingham. There were ropes, gentlem
en’s hats, oil paintings, novels, bags of first-grade English flour, pewter mugs, bibles, perambulators and porcelain ornaments, all destined for the various merchants’ stores further down the street, at a fat profit on resale to the partners of the Institute, of which he was now one.
But the most important cargoes would be the ones loaded onto the lower decks of the returning vessel after its short trip across the bay and into the Parramatta River. At the quay originally commissioned by a former governor it would take on board the latest fine fleeces from Elizabeth Farm and the live beasts from Camden, before slipping back to a more recent harbour to take on the latest carcasses from Annandale, which would be packed in ice from the ice-house at the bottom of the sloping ground at Haberfield. With a fair wind, the Parramatta would unload at Rotherhithe in time for the Christmas wholesale trade at London’s Smithfield, before sailing north to Liverpool to offload bales of fleece and reload with the latest consignments eagerly awaited by Sydney merchants.
And all this was going on under the nose of the governor who, from his fine mansion in the ‘Domain’ at the other end the street, still kept up the appearance of running the colony, even though the real power had for some time been in the hands of the leading landholders who were the partners in the Institute, one of whom still notionally undertook the military duties that he now left largely to his subordinates.
It was less than a year since Governor King, under pressure from London to promote trade between the two capitals of London and Sydney, had conceded Macarthur’s right to farm the massive ‘cow pastures’ holding out at Camden that he had been granted by the Colonial Secretary, pending a full-scale enquiry in Whitehall into the legality of the grant that seemed destined never to take place.
