The examination continued, the Master asking Charlotte detailed questions about each branch of her knowledge. Charlotte began to relax. She was having no difficulty answering any of the questions.
She had to read aloud from a heavy law text, full of long, difficult words. She had to sketch a waratah flower in a vase on the table. She completed the drawing by identifying the various parts of the plant, including the stem, florets, stigma, style and anther, and labelling it with its common, Latin and Aboriginal names. She had to recite lists of English kings and English rivers, and write a composition on fossils.
By the time she had completed pages of mathematical exercises, her head was aching.
‘Thank you, Miss Charlotte,’ said the Master with a smile. ‘I believe your mother has done an exceptional job with your education. You are obviously a talented young lady.’
Charlotte sighed with relief, the knot in her stomach dissolving. She thanked the Master-in-Equity then hurried outside to fetch Emily, who looked as though she was about to be taken to the guillotine.
‘It was fine,’ Charlotte reassured her sister. ‘You’ll do brilliantly, I know.’
Emily smiled back wanly.
It was a long, anxious wait in the draughty vestibule as Emily, then James and finally Louisa were examined by the Master. Finally, Mamma was summoned to the judge’s chamber to collect Louisa. Charlotte, Emily and James followed behind.
The Master frowned at Mamma. Mamma bowed.
‘I’d like to commend you, madam,’ said the Master. ‘I believe your children are diligent and talented students – a credit to your abilities as a teacher and mother.’
Mamma beamed with delight, her face losing its anxious frown. ‘Thank you, your honour.’
‘They certainly seem to have received a thorough education, including some branches not normally taught at schools, particularly to young ladies.’
‘I believe it is just as important for young ladies to receive a thorough education as it is for young gentlemen,’ replied Mamma.
The Master nodded. ‘I believe you are separated from your husband, Mr Barton?’
Mamma’s frown returned and she stiffened. ‘Yes, I am.’
The Master steepled his hands on the desk. ‘May I ask why? Surely your place is with your husband.’
Mamma crossed her arms, compressing her lips into a thin, pale line. Charlotte and Emily drew closer to her in support. ‘We no longer reside with Mr Barton as his constant intoxication and violent temper make him unfit to live with.’
‘Surely you exaggerate, madam?’ asked the Master. ‘Without a doubt it would be better for the children to be living in a stable home with a male protector.’
‘Since my first husband’s death, I have had to be mother, father, teacher, protector and provider for my children,’ Mamma insisted, her voice rising in anger. ‘Mr Barton has done nothing to provide for them. His behaviour has at best been negligent and, at worst, dangerous.’
The Master gazed at the four frightened children, clustered around the skirts of their mother. Mamma took a deep breath, trying to calm her temper.
‘Your honour – all I wish is to be allowed to raise my children,’ Mamma begged. ‘I have not received a penny of our income for well over a year. I have sold everything I can and run up multiple debts.
‘We are nearly destitute. I offered to rent Oldbury and run the farms, but I was refused. Instead, they leased it to a man who is now bankrupt and cannot pay the rent. Please, I implore you, allow me to receive the allowance I am entitled to so I can feed, clothe and school my children.’
The Master stood up and turned to Charlotte. ‘Miss Charlotte, is it true what your mother claims about your stepfather?’
Charlotte leant forward. She gathered the full depth of her feeling for the man.
‘Mr Barton is a raving lunatic,’ Charlotte spat. ‘I hope I never see him again.’
The Master laughed suddenly, his jowls wobbling. ‘Very well – I see that you are united on your opinion of him. I wish you all a very good day.’
Mamma decided to make a feast to celebrate the children’s successful examinations. She sacrificed a fowl from the coop and raided the vegetable garden. Fragrant, delicious smells of roasting meat and vegetables wafted from the kitchen.
Louisa picked scarlet geraniums from the garden and set them in a jam jar on the table. Emily set the table with a patched, embroidered tablecloth and the mismatched crockery that had survived the journeys up and down Meryla Pass.
They sat down together, still dressed in their starched Sunday best. Mamma said grace then set to work carving the crispy-skinned roast chicken. Charlotte helped herself to roasted onions and crunchy browned potatoes, her mouth watering in anticipation.
‘Mmm,’ said James, passing a bowl of steaming green beans. ‘This smells delicious.’
‘I can’t remember the last time we had roast chicken,’ said Louisa, pouring a lake of rich, fragrant gravy over her meal.
‘I can,’ said Charlotte. ‘It was at Oldbury.’
Everyone was quiet, remembering the many festive meals they had enjoyed in the gracious dining room at Oldbury. Their suppers now seemed to comprise solely of fish they could forage or barter for, vegetables from the garden and home-baked bread.
‘Well, I think this looks like the best meal I have ever eaten,’ said Emily.
‘Bon appétit,’ said Mamma, picking up her heavy silver cutlery.
The children tucked in and there was much chattering and joking. James was telling Mamma a practical joke he had played on one of the local fishermen. Louisa was talking over the top of him, describing an unusual wildflower she had found that morning. Emily was trying to interject, while Mamma laughed at James’s prank. After the meal, Charlotte sat back, her stomach comfortably full and her heart overflowing as she looked around the table at her family.
How could anyone think she would be better off living with strangers?
22
The Verdict
A few days later, someone knocked on the front door while Charlotte was in her bedroom reading. She looked up from her book, wondering who it could be. James, Emily and Louisa had run down to the beach to throw a ball around with Samson.
‘Good afternoon, Mr Broadhurst,’ came Mamma’s voice from the hallway. ‘I did not expect to see you here – come in. What can I do for you?’
Charlotte remembered that Mr Broadhurst was Mamma’s lawyer.
‘I wanted to bring you the news myself,’ replied Mr Broadhurst. ‘Is there somewhere we can sit down?’
Charlotte could hear their footsteps entering the sitting room.
‘Would you like some tea?’ asked Mamma, her voice strained.
‘No, thank you, madam,’ replied Mr Broadhurst. ‘I’m afraid we have bad news for you. The Master-in-Equity has made his interim report.’
‘Oh?’ asked Mamma. ‘I see.’
‘He has found that you are not fit to be guardian of the children.’
Charlotte drew in her breath sharply and held it.
‘Not fit to be their guardian?’ Mamma repeated, her voice raised.
‘He has appointed Mr Edward Corry as the children’s guardian.’
‘Mr Corry!’ Mamma exclaimed. ‘You mean that idiotic young clerk who works for the executors’ lawyers? That is outrageous. The man has barely been in the colony a few months – he is almost a child himself. What on earth would he know about raising children?’
Charlotte crept down the hallway.
‘I am so sorry, madam,’ soothed the lawyer. ‘Mr Corry is now the children’s legal guardian and will make decisions about the children’s future. He has determined that Miss Charlotte and Miss Emily should be sent immediately to boarding school. Master James is also to be sent away to board with a suitable clergyman. Miss Louisa, however, will be allow
ed to stay with you for a little while longer.’
‘How can this be?’ asked Mamma, her voice trembling. ‘How can they take away my children? We went to court to ensure that we would receive the allowance that I was owed, and now they have decided to take away my children?’
‘The report does say that you have instructed them exceptionally well, but, due to your peculiar circumstances, he can’t approve of you continuing to care for the children.’
Charlotte crept closer.
‘My “peculiar circumstances”!’ Mamma shouted. ‘What does that mean? That I can’t feed and clothe my children properly because the lawyers won’t let me have the money left to us by their father? That we are virtually starving because a gaggle of old men do not think I can be trusted to organise my own affairs?’
‘The crux of the problem is Mr Barton,’ Mr Broadhurst explained. ‘The Master-in-Equity does not think it is proper that you have left your husband. In addition, Mr Barton has made several slanderous claims about you. Even though he has subsequently retracted them, I’m afraid the damage has been done. I am so sorry.’
There was silence for a moment as Mamma gathered herself.
‘I will fight them,’ said Mamma, her voice dangerously calm. ‘I will not let them take my children. It is not right that a twenty-eight-year-old stranger should be able to make decisions about my children’s upbringing just because he is a man.’
Charlotte crept into the sitting room and to her mother’s side. ‘Mamma?’
Mamma hugged her fiercely. ‘You heard, dearest?’
Charlotte nodded.
‘I will not let them take you,’ Mamma insisted. She slipped her hand into her pocket, unconsciously pulled out the little brown pebble and rolled it between her fingers. Charlotte put her hand over her mother’s hand, squeezing it tightly over the pebble.
‘We will not go,’ said Charlotte.
In July, Mamma was summoned to the Equity Court for a hearing in front of Chief Justice Sir James Dowling. Mamma spent many hours writing and rewriting her petition, begging that she be allowed to keep her children. Charlotte could hear her in her bedroom, reading and re-reading the petition, calling out with exasperation, striking out sentences then writing them again.
On the day of the court hearing, their neighbour Mrs Fisher came in to watch the children, as she always did when Mamma went to town. Mamma looked pale and thin, as though a strong southerly wind would blow her away.
The children stood in the street and watched her drive the buckboard to town. It was one of the longest days that Charlotte had ever known. She could not settle to anything. They went for a walk, tried to read and draw, played knuckles with Louisa, but all day Charlotte had a pit of dread in her stomach.
It was nearly dark when James, who had been keeping watch on the front verandah with Samson, yelled, ‘She’s coming! She’s coming!’
Charlotte, Louisa and Emily ran to the front door. Mamma turned the buckboard down the side street to drive it around the back to the stables. All four children ran through the house to meet her at the carriage house, Samson barking with excitement.
‘Mamma?’ called Charlotte. ‘Are you all right?’
Mamma slid down off the buckboard, her knees buckling with weariness. James took her driving whip and hung it up on its hook. The horse stamped its hooves in the chilly air and whinnied for its stall.
‘Mamma, why were you so long?’ demanded Louisa, clasping at Mamma’s crumpled skirts.
Mamma laughed hysterically, her hair cascading from its bonnet and her shawl askew.
‘They fined me for impertinence,’ Mamma cried. ‘They said my petition was too long and its content scandalous. I asked them what was scandalous about a mother begging to be allowed to keep her dear children?’
‘Mamma, what happened?’ asked Charlotte, panic rising.
Mamma sank to her knees in the straw, her shawl falling to the ground. She was trembling violently. Louisa and Emily gathered around to comfort her. Charlotte clung on to the horse’s head.
‘The Chief Justice, Sir James Dowling, disregarded the conclusions of the Master-in-Equity,’ said Mamma. ‘He has appointed me as your guardian and ordered that I be paid three hundred and fifty pounds a year to cover our expenses.’
Charlotte and Emily looked at each other.
‘You mean –’ Emily began.
‘I mean we won the case!’ Mamma cried, tears falling down her face. ‘They will not take you away from me. We will have money to live on.’
‘We won!’ James shouted, dancing around the stable yard. ‘We won!’
Louisa buried her head in Mamma’s skirts and cried because Mamma was crying. Emily hugged Mamma, then Charlotte.
Charlotte dropped the reins, her mind numb. We won, she thought. A feeling of euphoria flooded her. She smiled, then a loud ‘whoop’ escaped her throat. ‘We won!’
Mrs Fisher bustled out the back door, alerted by all the noise.
‘Oh, goodness gracious! What’s going on?’ she asked. ‘Come in out of the cold, all of you. I’ve made a hot fish pie for your supper. Miss Charlotte, help your mother inside. She’s all done in and will catch her death out there. Master James, you put that horse and carriage away. Miss Louisa, will you come and set the table for me?’
Charlotte and Emily helped Mamma to her feet and soon she was wrapped in a blanket in front of the roaring fire, sipping hot tea. Mrs Fisher served the steaming hot pie, which was filled with chunks of fish, seafood and leek in a creamy sauce topped with flaky pastry.
‘Will you be all right?’ Mrs Fisher whispered to Charlotte.
‘Yes, thank you, Mrs Fisher,’ Charlotte reassured her. ‘Everything will be fine now. Mamma just needs a rest and some good, hot food – she’s completely exhausted.’
‘I take it there was good news today?’ asked Mrs Fisher.
‘Very good news.’ Charlotte beamed, her cheeks aching.
‘I’m glad to hear it, pet,’ said Mrs Fisher. ‘You and your mother deserve some good news. There’s some around here who say she’s haughty, but I think she is just stretched to breaking point.’
Soon afterwards there was even more good news. A letter finally arrived from Mr Evans, a publisher, to say that he had read Mamma’s collection of stories and planned to print it in time for Christmas. It would be the first children’s book published in Australia, and he trusted that its mix of amusing anecdotes and educational content would have wide appeal to the younger generation of the colony.
In early December a messenger arrived with a parcel for Mamma wrapped in brown paper and string. The children crowded around, curious to know the contents. Mamma opened it at the kitchen table with trembling fingers. Inside was a small hardback book.
Mamma stroked the cover with her fingertips, then held it up. ‘Merry Christmas, my dears. This is for you.’
‘A Mother’s Offering to Her Children,’ read Emily. ‘By A Lady Long Resident in New South Wales.’
Charlotte touched the paper. It seemed strange to see Mamma’s familiar stories of Australian animals, plants, landscapes and characters printed inside a real book.
‘It’s Mamma’s book,’ said Louisa.
‘Look, it has us in it,’ said Charlotte. ‘Julius is James, Clara is me, Emma is Emily and Lucy is Louisa.’
‘And Mrs Saville is Mamma,’ added James.
The children crowded around, reading excerpts aloud.
‘It has my favourite stories of shipwrecks,’ said James.
‘And a story about a purple beetle,’ added Louisa with glee. ‘That was my idea.’
Mamma picked up the book. ‘Let us pray it sells well,’ she said. ‘The first thing I am going to buy with the royalties is a spinet so we can have music in the house again.’
‘Oh, yes,’ Emily said wistfully. ‘I have sorely missed our piano.’
‘Perhaps a new dress?’ asked Charlotte, examining her oft-mended skirt.
‘I really, really need a new doll,’ added Louisa.
Mamma scooped up her youngest and kissed the top of her head. ‘Well, poppet, let us hope that everyone in New South Wales buys a copy.’
Mamma’s book was a bestseller and the newspapers reviewed it favourably. With the money from the book and the allowance from the estate, life improved dramatically. There were new clothes and boots, books and drawing materials. There was meat on the dinner table, and Emily was overjoyed when a new spinet was delivered for her to play. Mamma was able to engage a maidservant to help with the heavy work, and she enrolled the three eldest children in College High School in Elizabeth Street, run by Professor Rennie. She also began to look around for another house at Woolloomooloo, closer to the school.
In the New Year, Charlotte, Emily and James began attending the day school. The girls were taught by the professor’s daughter, Miss Rennie, in a separate part of the building. Mamma approved of the school because it was run on very advanced educational principles – strong academic teaching for both boys and girls, a particular focus on art and music, and an unusual policy of not flogging students for punishment. It was a novel experience for the children. For the first time in their lives, they were regularly socialising with other children outside their immediate family.
A few weeks after they started school, Charlotte and Emily were walking in the school gardens at lunchtime with their new friend Kitty when they were greeted with unusual warmth by a popular red-headed girl called Ettie. She was followed by her crowd of hangers-on, who seemed to spend most of their free time discussing the latest fashions and hairstyles from London.
‘Did you hear about the Berrima murders?’ whispered Ettie, with delight. ‘It’s in all the newspapers.’
‘No,’ replied Emily. ‘What murders?’
The other girls gathered around like bright butterflies around a honey flower. Ettie always had amusing stories to share, and she loved an audience. Charlotte glanced over to see if Miss Rennie was watching.
The River Charm Page 18
