The Convict and the Soldier

by John P F Lynch

  The Convict

  and the

  SoldieR

  John P. F. Lynch

  Published in Australia by Sid Harta Publishers Pty Ltd,

  ABN: 46 119 415 842

  23 Stirling Crescent, Glen Waverley, Victoria 3150 Australia

  Telephone: +61 3 9560 9920, Facsimile: +61 3 9545 1742

  E-mail: author@sidharta.com.au

  First published in Australia 2016

  This edition published 2016

  Copyright © John P. F. Lynch 2016

  Cover design, typesetting: WorkingType (www.workingtype.com.au)

  Cover Design by Luke Harris

  Cover picture by permission of the National Library of Australia, Canberra

  Tucker, E., Relief guard arriving at a prison hulk, Deptford, 1821, Ref. an5576207

  The right of John P. F. Lynch to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any similarities to that of people living or dead are purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  The National Library of Australia

  Cataloguing-in-Publication Data

  Lynch, John P. F.

  The Convict and the Soldier

  ISBN 9781925282009 (eBook)

  Convicts — Fiction

  Soldiers — Fiction

  A823.4

  eBook edition distributed by

  Port Campbell Press

  www.portcampbellpress.com.au

  eBook Created by Warren Broom

  To my mother, Evelyn Ida Lynch (nee Keogh) —

  a true daughter of the Australian bush

  Contents

  FOREWORD

  INTRODUCTION

  THE FAMILIES

  CHAPTER ONE: Troubles in County Clare

  CHAPTER TWO: Deceit in the Army

  CHAPTER THREE: Voyage to the Colonies

  CHAPTER FOUR: Van Dieman’s Land

  CHAPTER FIVE: Arrival in Victoria

  CHAPTER SIX: The Keoghs Emigrate

  CHAPTER SEVEN: Auckland to Kyneton

  CHAPTER EIGHT: Changed Lives for All

  HISTORICAL NOTES

  Foreword

  I feel privileged to be asked by a fellow Legatee, John Lynch, to write a foreword for his book, The Convict and the Soldier, when it is republished by publisher request.

  The book is set in the mid nineteenth century. This is a very interesting time in history to set a novel in the conditions prevailing in the Terra Australis colonies.

  The book’s title may at first lead to a potential reader assuming that this is just another book dealing with the First Fleet, the challenge of the New South Wales colony to feed itself, and the British Army and local troops to keep order.

  But The Convict and the Soldier deals with a crucial period of colonial development. Transportation, which has provided much of the necessary labour to till the land and farm sheep, has ceased in some colonies and its days are numbered in others.

  The colony of Victoria has already broken away from its parent to the north and is about to gain representative government. It was the discovery of gold during that time that was to have such a material effect on the communities. Suddenly, there was an injection of wealth and successful gold miners were able to underwrite the construction of solid brick or basalt buildings, many of which have stood the test of time and still stand today.

  The novel’s story begins in Ireland, a country that had endured a long history of being bled by its English neighbour, of potato famine, poverty and evictions by English landlords of those peasants who could not pay their rent.

  Michael Keogh comes from a relatively well-off family. He is a skilled shipwright. He comes in difficulty with the law when he assists a felon to escape the country. Without much evidence he is declared guilty and sentenced to transportation to Van Diemen’s Land, now of course Tasmania.

  Michael was hence the convict. John Hall is the soldier. Commissioned in an English regiment that is charged with supporting the constables in the execution of the unjust laws that stood at the time, He becomes embroiled in a situation created by his commanding officer and, although discharged from a courts martial without a decision, John Hall decides to leave the army and seek a new life in the Antipodes.

  Just to add spice to the story, we find that John has become besotted with a member of the Keogh family, Maeve, and they pledge to be married but not before John has become successful in the colonies.

  The author, who has travelled extensively, including five times to Ireland, describes in some detail for the benefit of the reader, the conditions in Ireland and then the long sea voyage down south.

  With our modern way of life, where milk does not come from cows, but from the dairy produce shelves in the supermarkets; where the trip to Europe can now be flown in less than 24-hours; and where the pace of life touches on the frenetic, it is most useful for the author to describe with some feeling the conditions of living as they were then.

  Michael and John arrive safely in Hobart Town, one as a convict, the other as a free passenger. Life on the ship is well described. John of course is free to travel in Van Diemen’s Land, but Michael must first escape from the boat building to which he was put to work as a convict.

  The book then takes us north from Hobart Town to Bass Strait, our two heroes having become skilful sheep shearers and Michael is forever putting distance between him and re-arrest. At this stage a reader will be so fascinated by the book that he or she will not be able to put it down until Michael and John achieve their respective goals. For John this would be success as a colonist and being reunited with Mauve and a happily married man. But it is hardly likely that either will escape frequent challenges to their health and freedom with many pages yet of the book to be enjoyed.

  Graham J Farley,

  OAM RFD ED

  B.Com B.Ed M.Ed

  Colonel (Rtd)

  Headmaster Braemar College 1976–1996

  Introduction

  The Colony of New South Wales was originally populated by people from England, Scotland and with the majority coming from Ireland. These people travelled to Australia for various reasons; some were free settlers, some military men and many others were convicts. Their voyages, at times, were not always of their choice. The legal system and the politics of the time were often the basic causes for many injustices, which resulted in changing their lives forever. Fortunately, many of these people made a success from their adversity and became respected citizens in the New Colonies of Australia. This story is based on the experiences of some of those people.

  John P F Lynch

  OAM KSJ J.P.

  “Woodlea”

  Romsey

  AUSTRALIA

  The Families

  CHAPTER ONE

  Troubles in County Clare

  The young man sat staring out to sea. Through the rolling mist he watched a three masted barque sailing parallel to the coast line. It would soon turn to port, to tack south–west, en route to America across the vast and treacherous Atlantic Ocean. The bad weather and heavy seas would test both man and vessel, he mused. He knew this area had claimed many ships. Ships of the Spanish Armada had floundered there. They would turn too soon after rounding the northern coastline of Ireland, on their trip south back to Spain, and were forced onto rocks by the stron
g westerly winds. What secrets did the waters hold? he pondered.

  As a youngster, Michael Keogh had often come to the Cliffs of Moher. He always found that the solitude and starkness of these remarkable cliffs, that rose over six hundred feet from the sea, had allowed his mind to think more clearly.

  The cliffs had been there since time forgotten, their sheer cliff faces providing a natural haven for millions of birds that nested in crevices. Its only distraction was O’Brien’s multi-rounded tower up on the North Point. Stark against the skyline it could be seen for miles around, without a tree to interfere with the view. The surrounding area was strewn with small rocks and patches of grass, and sloped inland to a long row of large boulders with patches of colourful flowers occasioning the peaceful scene.

  But now his thoughts wandered.

  His birth place was within a short walk from there, two miles north west of the town of Liscannor in County Clare. His father was Edmund Keogh, whose cottage could be seen from the cliff, several hundred yards behind where he now sat. It was hidden from the road by large boulders. His forefathers had lived in the area for hundreds of years, when their original property had been over twenty acres. However, with the Keogh family’s division of the land over the years, little now remained to be farmed by his father. What did remain was not yielding much corn or wheat and other produce was only of average quality. Fortunately, their two acres had not been challenged by the local British landlord, who regarded the small area on the cliffs as unproductive and, as such, insignificant.

  Three weeks ago he had received a letter from his Aunt Jane, his father’s sister-in-law, advising him that his father’s health was poor and he was having difficulty working the farm. The words sent a shiver down his spine for he knew the land must be worked or his father would end up struggling like so many others.

  Michael had only arrived home yesterday from his uncle’s boat yard. His uncle had needed him to stay to help build Hookers, small river boats, but he knew where his duties lie and had packed up his belongings.

  He had walked most of the way home carrying two small three legged stools. They were popular seats as they were easier to sit on regardless of the level of the cottage floor. Each time Michael had returned home he had taken an article of furniture, courtesy of his uncle. His uncle allowed him to build them in his free time, from the wood off-cuts at the boatyard.

  If only he had the freedom of the gulls gliding up and down the cliff face on the westerly winds. What should he do? He had returned to his childhood home to help his ageing widowed father. To help him to do what? He was the oldest of three children; his brother, Patrick, was three years younger than him and his sister, Maeve, who was the youngest of the family, was five years younger than Michael.

  Their mother, Hanna, had died shortly after Maeve was born and they had spent the following years being reared by his father and their Aunt Jane, who lived at the next farm. Her husband, Sean Keogh, had gone to America in 1848, lured by the Californian gold rush. He occasionally sent home money which helped to give Aunt Jane a reasonable living standard for the times they now lived in, but his money could not be relied on.

  Michael remembered his childhood years with warmth. He had enjoyed the love and care typical of the poor Irish families. He remembered the singing, the fiddles, the bodrums and dancing the Irish reels. How could one forget this part of his life?

  Patrick was now seventeen and was away working in Queenstown, or to use its Irish name — Cobh, in Cork Harbour. He was also learning to be a shipwright, building and repairing boats. This was normally the port from which both the immigrant ships and the transportation ships with Irish convicts sailed to Australia.

  Patrick had told him the ships were being used as floating jails in Cork Harbour. The disgraceful and filthy conditions on the ships and the cries of the convicts being flogged were known to all who lived near the docks and shipyards. Patrick had said how these sounds sometimes played on his mind, disturbing him greatly.

  Maeve still lived with Aunt Jane. Together they spun wool and made clothing material, shawls and bandle linen cloth as well as running the small farm. The other three Keogh family farms were not being worked as their ground had been contaminated by the imported American potatoes.

  His father and Aunt Jane had wanted to sow their relative’s farms after two families had fled overseas and the third moved on for employment but they had left hurriedly and could not be contacted.

  Fortunately, each Keogh family had learnt the rudiments of reading, writing and arithmetic, including Gaelic. Secretly their parents taught them in accordance with family tradition. The Keogh families were an exception in Clare, as few families had had any education at all.

  Their two families were both surviving, they were not poverty stricken as were the majority of the tenant farmers who had grown corn, wheat and potatoes, and had been required to surrender the corn and wheat to the landlord for their rent. The tenant farmers needed to survive on the potato harvest only. The dreaded Corn Law had killed millions of the Irish population, due to the requirement to ship all the corn out of Ireland for foreign trade.

  Michael became aware of a dog barking behind him in the distance. He glanced over his shoulder and saw his father walking towards him. His dog was running here and there, seeking a hare or some other wild life hiding in the grass or between the rocks. His father was now slightly stooped and carried a shillelagh to assist him with walking in the rocky fields.

  Michael’s father, Edmund wore his normal thick flannel trousers and shirt, together with a sheepskin coat and a similar skull cap. Heavy leather hob nailed boots completed his outfit. His wife had made several of pairs of trousers and shirts years ago. They had lasted well and would last for a few more years still. Any farmer who kept sheep eventually owned a sheep skin coat and cap. The boots were excellent for walking on farmland but were a risk on cobblestones. In town he wore his second pair of shoes which were more suited to the paved streets.

  The dog reached Michael first and sat beside him, looking up at him waiting to be patted. The Irish Red Setter was a good dog, somewhat lively but obedient and good company for his father.

  Michael’s father sat beside him, looking out to sea. His face showed his age and the strain of the life he lived. He was still determined and proud.

  Michael asked him to share his thoughts.

  He looked at him and said, “It’s good to have you home.”

  Michael said nothing.

  His father continued, “We should go and visit your Aunt Jane and perhaps go to the Kilrush market.”

  Michael liked Aunt Jane; she was the closest relative he had apart from Uncle Jack at the Kilrush Shipyard. “Yes, anytime you wish. I’d like to see her again.” He had always felt comfortable in her presence.

  The waves were growing larger with white water aplenty. The wind was starting to increase in strength and the temperature seemed to be dropping. Michael suggested that they return to the house, calling out to the dog as he rose from his seat and stretched his arms out.

  Walking back to the house required one to be careful where they stepped. Rocks of all sizes were everywhere and it was easy to twist and injure an ankle. It was only when they were within fifty or so yards of the house that the ground was level and there was a grass path. On one side there were two small separate patches of corn and wheat; the crops looked healthy as they waved in the strong wind. On the other side of the path some herbs, turnips and onions were sown with small green shoots now starting to break through the soil. Several hardy fruit trees had been established. These were harvested in October then preserved and stowed in the attic.

  The three areas were about seventy yards by forty yards, each fenced by dry rock walls. The south side of the house had two small enclosed pens. One pen was for the sheep and the single goat. The other pen was for some chickens. Just over an acre could be used as arable land. The rest was too difficult to clear of rocks but could be used for grazing.

  As Michael
walked back with his father, through the tough terrain that was their farm, he wondered how his family had made a living from this land for so long. They had, and now he had somehow to ensure that they continued to do so.

  They decided to visit Aunt Jane, a walk of some three hundred yards. She had known he was returning but she was unaware that he had arrived as yet.

  It was the local custom to take some food when visiting another’s home. His father picked up two turnips and two corn cobs and passed them to Michael to carry. They proceeded up a short steep incline of some two hundred yards. Upon reaching the top they stopped and looked north out across the start of the Burren. County Clare was a land of contrasts with its southern green grasslands and the northern barrenness of the Burren. It was a spectacular sight but also forbidding with its starkness.

  The county was bordered on the south by the River Shannon with good grazing land but as one headed north the countryside changed dramatically until it reached the Burren with its limestone slabs. The Keogh land bordered the southern end of the Burren which was a mixture of some grassland and limestone. Caves were abundant in the area, some small and others quite large; big enough to hide a man or many men. It was said that they were used by the rebels for hundreds of years and yet few people knew of them. The Keogh’s knew all the land’s secrets but did not speak of them to anyone outside of the family.

  While the Burren was unproductive to a farmer it had a beauty of its own. At midyear, colourful rock roses, holly trees, maidenhair fern, hawthorn plants and geraniums grew between the cracks and crevasses. As a boy Michael had wandered these hills with his dog and had explored the limestone caves which had been carved out by the water run off through the porous rocks over many centuries. It had been a carefree but lonely life.

  Michael stopped reminiscing when the dog started barking and ran down the hill to the cottage on the creek. The dog ran to his aunty standing at the gate waving to them. His father had walked on and had nearly reached the cottage gate. A smaller person now joined his aunt, whom he recognized as his sister, Maeve. She was now sixteen years old, taller and had developed the body of a young woman since he had seen her last. His sister ran to meet him and threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. He put his arms around her, swept her off her feet and spun her around.