First Fleet

by M Howard Morgan

  Jack did not know this man. He was not one of his own, but he understood what this was. Packer had mentioned most of the companies had similar complaints. None of the Corps wanted to be here, standing sentinel over mostly London criminals, sent to the far side of the world to form a forgotten garrison, and none wanted to be under Major Ross who wasted no time in quarrelling with Governor Phillip about the duty his men were now required to perform. Jack had sympathy, not only with the wretched corporal now before him, but to his surprise, with the ‘Mad Major’ as Ross had become known in recent weeks.

  ‘I regret I can do nothing to help you, Goodall. You will simply have to manage as best you can.’ Jack spoke reluctantly, recognising the man was sincere.

  The corporal looked grimly back at him. ‘I understand, sir, but begging pardon, the Major and Captain Campbell, well they been spreading poison around, sir. About the guv’nor and Mister Collins sir.’ He looked at his feet. ‘’Tain’t right, sir, an’ they say bad things about you and Lieutenant Dawes too, sir. Reckon you be ‘as thick as London thieves,’ was what Captain Campbell said, sir. Thought you deserved to know that, sir.’

  Jack was surprised. He knew little of James Campbell save that he had been selected from the Plymouth division, and he and Campbell had not socialised at all during the voyage out. So, another potential enemy, he thought. Have to watch him too.

  ‘Sorry, Goodall. If the opportunity should arise to effect a transfer, I will see what can be done, but I caution you to keep your thoughts to yourself in future, else you will find a meeting with the Judge Advocate and a court martial for insubordination. Be about your duties please.’

  Many of the men, and at least some of the officers, had given voice to their discontent at the menial tasks and tedious guard duty they were compelled now to perform. He quickly realised that he, the other officers and the Governor would have to contend with a serious matter of morale, and perhaps something even more dangerous and sinister.

  32

  Reunion

  Some twelve days after the first landing, the Governor decreed that the site chosen for the settlement was sufficiently clear to permit the landing of the female convicts. Large tents were erected on the cleared ground to accommodate them. The morning of Wednesday 6th February 1788 dawned grey with frequent thunderstorms. The wind blew strongly from the northwest, bringing squalls and warm rain. Governor Philip decided it was time to bring the women ashore. The ships’ masters also wished to offload their cargoes, both human and of materiel and to continue with profitable voyages to China; tea and spices were now in demand in London, with prices for the first home likely to be high.

  Fresh clean clothes were issued to the women, and some, including Mary, were observed to be well-groomed and clean. George Worgan for one, thought some to be most decorative and handsomely attired. The sailors watched them leave, with several carrying infants born at sea, others patently pregnant by the men now watching from the decks.

  Disembarking of the women and their children occupied most of the day. Marines searched each woman before quitting the ships, but such was the haste to disembark them, the search was perfunctory, many concealing objects likely to be of great value ashore. By early evening they were ashore and settling into tents, a lucky few who had come under the protection of certain officials, assigned to the basic huts constructed for some of the officers.

  Mary George and Lizzie Parker found themselves allotted to a large tent along with a dozen or more other women and their children. It was already oppressively humid, the air still and heavy and perspiration trickled down faces making clothes damp and stained. The parrots in the trees squawked incessantly. Thunder rumbled in the leaden skies overhead, and no sooner had they placed their few belongings on the rough earthen floor than the skies exploded with the most frightening and yet spectacular and violent storm witnessed by many of the officers. The torrential rain quickly turned the camp into a slimy, ooze; a mud bath. It continued all evening.

  Mary and Lizzie remained huddled together in the darkness as the rain soaked their tent and the waters drained through, rivulets of mud swirling about their feet and legs. Wrapped in sodden blankets the tent offered little protection, but more than was available elsewhere.

  The others left them to join the seamen from the transports, who had been allocated a stock of rum and soon were beyond any reason or control. Scenes of drunkenness and complete debauchery were being enacted throughout the camp. Women, confined to a stinking vessel for months, thrown into the company of the men with a generous allowance of alcohol available, were very quickly working to find partners who could offer some protection. Some did not care, seeking only to satisfy lust that had been latent. Most of the men were worse, far worse, increasingly drunk and uncaring as to whom they coupled with, or in what manner, or with regard for the consequences.

  A woman from Lady Penrhyn, who had been one of the less sociable aboard, was naked with two marines, enjoying copulation with both. Another couple were vying with each other for the attentions of a young man, probably no more than fifteen years, each seeking to exceed the other in the services offered to the boy. A group of officers looked on and grinned with unrestrained pleasure at the scenes before them. Others were appalled and confounded, powerless to intervene. The Governor expressed revulsion, but thought it expedient to let the depravity ‘run its course.’

  ‘My God, Mary, glad as I am to be on land again, tonight I would rather we were back on that ship. I fear for our very lives with those animals off the Alexander.’ They listened to the shrieks of laughter without, and shuddered. Lizzie had no scruple or pricked conscience by going with a man for money, food and drink, but now even she was revolted by what she had witnessed outside.

  ‘Sweet Jesus, Lizzie. What is to become of us here? Is nothing to be done about this?’

  Mary had grown inured to the harsh life aboard ship, but this complete loss of control and discipline frightened her. She clutched the kitchen knife that she had managed to conceal within her bundle and sat facing the entrance. They ate a meagre supper of cold boiled rice and peas Lizzie had collected from one of the communal kitchens.

  Mary was dozing against a tent pole, neither asleep nor awake. Lizzie shivered and could not sleep. It must have been after midnight, following a particularly severe flash of lightning, when a face, shining with mud and rain, suddenly appeared under the flap of the tent. It was unshaven and the protruding eyes that belonged to the face were wild with intoxication and lust. Mary tensed, then swiftly darted forward, the blade catching the man on the chin before he could move. He screamed and vanished into the night howling with pain.

  All night the rain fell and eventually the noises in the darkness faded as the convicts, having sated their lust for each other and for drink, slowly fell silent. Neither woman slept, as the thunder and lightning continued and the rain fell until dawn.

  The following morning found the camp awash with the detritus of the night’s riotous behaviour. Many convicts slept were they had fallen, with officers kicking their men awake. Order was restored, albeit slowly, and work parties organised to clear the camp.

  By eleven o’clock the Governor and his immediate staff were ashore by the flagpole positioned in front of the only two storey building; the Governor’s own house, part fabricated in England. All the convicts were collected, obliged to sit on the ground, with marine guards forming a protective cordon about them. The Governor’s commission was read aloud to all by the Judge-Advocate, Captain David Collins. He spoke loudly and clearly, reciting:

  ‘We, reposing especial trust and confidence in your loyalty, courage and experience in military affairs, do, by these presents, constitute and appoint you to be Governor of our territory called New South Wales, extending from the Northern cape or extremity of the coast called Cape York, in the latitude of 10o 37’ south, to the southern extremity of the said territory of New South Wales or South Cape, in the latitude 43o 39’ south, and all the country inland and westward as f
ar as the one hundred and thirty-fifth degree of longitude, reckoning from the meridian of Greenwich, including all the islands adjacent in the Pacific Ocean, within the latitude aforesaid of 10o 37’ south and 43o 39’ south, and of all towns, garrisons, castles forts and all fortifications or other military works, which are now or may be erected hereafter upon this said territory. You are therefore carefully and diligently to discharge the duty of Governor in and over our said territory by doing and performing all and all manner of things thereunto belonging, and we do hereby strictly charge and command all our officers and soldiers who shall be employed within our said territory, and all others whom it may concern, to obey you as our Governor thereof; and you are to observe and follow such orders and directions as you shall receive from us, or any other your superior officer according to the rules and discipline of war, and likewise such orders and directions as we shall send you under our signet or sign manual, or by our High Treasurer or Commissioners of our Treasury, for the time being, or one of our Principal Secretaries of State, in pursuance of the trust we hereby repose in you.

  Given at our Court at St James’s, the twelfth day of October 1786, in the twenty sixth year of our reign.

  By His Majesty’s Command.

  Sydney.’

  Jack Vizzard stood at attention through the recital of the Act establishing the colony and with more interest than most listened to details of the Court of Judicature, and the punishments with which Governor Phillip was now empowered. Arthur Phillip was now officially endowed by the King with extraordinary, plenipotentiary powers.

  Governor Phillip delivered a severe reprimand, cautioned the assembled convicts that repetition of the previous night’s behaviour would incur the severest penalties. He harangued the convicts in the severest terms; that he was now convinced that they were the most incorrigible set of rogues and villains he had encountered. He was now compelled, he said, to adopt the sternest measures to induce them to behave properly and decently in the future. The pettiest, most trifling theft was henceforth a capital offence, because the well-being of the entire community was now dependent on good order and industrious labour by all who were fit to work.

  Jack did not give close attention, knowing intuitively the Governor’s words. His eyes slowly scanned the trees and the convicts in front of him, his hat shielding him from the sun as it climbed higher in the sky. Wisps of smoke from a fire on the far shore held his attention for some moments, but seeing nothing of the local Indians, his survey continued amongst the blank, expressionless faces gathered on the earth within the circle of red-coated marines.

  Then his head stopped, unable to rotate further. He blinked, and stared, his brain exploding with recognition. She was there, not forty yards from him. Surely, it could not be so? He had to be hallucinating, some cruel trick of light. Was he still asleep? His head hurt. His vision tunnelled rapidly and there was a roaring sound in his ears. He had last seen her in tears, in the cold harshness of Gloucester Assize court. Her hair was shorter and she was thinner, especially about the face, but there – she half turned and he caught more of her image. Incredible as it seemed but she was there. His mind raced. But surely not, for her name was on no list he had seen.

  He wanted to break rank and run to her. His left foot came up and he stopped. Still he stared, wanting, needing to be certain. A woman next to her, a little older and more ragged, nudged her with an elbow, and she turned more toward him.

  There! No doubt about it. Mary George had been in the fleet these last eight months and he had not known it.

  A volley fired by a rank of marines, echoed about the cove, and there followed three huzzas for the King. The convicts rose to stand, singly and in groups.

  ‘You will be joining us for luncheon, Jack?’ The voice in his ear belonged to William Dawes. He realised that he stood alone, detached. His company marched away by Sergeant Packer with him wholly unaware of it.

  ‘Have you seen a ghost my friend? You are as white as a sheet man.’ Dawes’ voice tailed away to a soft echo.

  Other uniforms appeared about him as a blur. He was walking toward her as though on air, not conscious of the ground.

  Now she was only ten feet from him, turning fully to face him, recognition coming to her eyes. Her mouth opened but he heard no sound above the rising beat in his chest.

  His arms were about her and she was sobbing, her face wet with tears, and he kissed her, quite oblivious to the stares of others, the catcalls of the women and the whistles of the men next to him.

  ‘Oh Jack, Jack my own dear heart’. Her voice was broken and her body shook and trembled. His own barely able to remain upright as his legs turned to water and the anguish and guilt of months burst upon him in a moment of exquisite pain.

  ‘Hush now,’ his voice tremulous, a croak, ‘I cannot believe what is happening. You are here.’ He dared not speak again. He swallowed and held her tightly, frightened that this image might suddenly disappear.

  The ground about them had cleared, still they stood together, neither wishing to break apart and destroy the moment.

  His breathing became stable and he trusted himself to speak.

  ‘We have much to discuss. Come, please.’

  He took her hand and led her to his tent, caring nothing for the voices and shapes around him, knowing only that she was by his side again. She sat on the field bed erected under the canvas, and he sat on a low stool, holding both her hands in his.

  ‘Tell me everything. Leave nothing out. I need to know it all.’ She spoke softly, but there was no doubting her resolve. Her grip on his arms was firm, and her eyes drilled into his; those hazel eyes he had seen so many times in his dreams. He would have to tell her his story, before she would tell him of the trials she had endured.

  He left nothing, telling her of the events of that night at The Vicarage. He was controlled now, and more dispassionate. Thoughts of the trial, the prejudice of the judge, the evil of Mary’s accuser and his murder itself; all came together in a steady outpouring of language. He spoke calmly, without interruption, and Mary sat expressionless until he had finished.

  ‘I am very glad that Tom is with us. He is a good boy, and will serve you well.’ She smiled at last, a thin, tired smile, but with real warmth now spreading from her heart and through her body.

  ‘Jack, my dearest, but you did a terrible thing,’ she said, almost as a mere observation, not accusingly, nor reproachfully or judgementally. ‘You would not know, how could you, that he was judged to have died naturally. Doctor Steele would not say he was killed. Giles searched for you. Your father also... ‘ She left unfinished any mention of Henry’s grief, knowing it would serve no purpose, would only add to his burdened mind.

  ‘So I am a fugitive for nothing.’ His voice low, not with bitterness, but with a sense of irony at his circumstances.

  ‘Well I am in the best of company. Now it must be your turn my love. How have you fared since I abandoned you?’ His eyes reflected the shame he felt within.

  This was not a time for recrimination. She was still light-headed at the joy of their reunion. She spoke of her time since the trial. She told him of the suddenness of her removal from Gloucester Gaol to Portsmouth. She spoke emotionally of the heartbreak when taken from her county, from her family. At that she paused, controlled the rising emotion in her throat. The voyage itself he would understand, but she knew now he had been on Sirius, the flagship, not a convict transport.

  She described the women and how they had fought and made alliances, how they had worked together to endure the hardship of the cramped, fetid prison cells where the sun never reached, but how they had fared better than when in gaol. She alluded to the means by which the women had gained extra victuals or drink, or simply because of alcohol induced lust. Of the men, she said little. He would know, would understand. There was time enough for confession, were it necessary.

  He looked at her at that point, and his eyes softened. He had learned much during the voyage. Some of his innocence had go
ne, and his understanding had grown. He understood that she too, had lost her innocence, but to a greater degree. He lowered his head and his voice was quiet.

  ‘I felt desolate that day. A loss of reason took me over, and all I could think of was removing that animal from society; and of revenge too, for what he had done to you. To us. He violated you, Mary; raped you. I could not bear that.’ He looked deep into her eyes, reaching to her soul.

  ‘Tom has told of worse things done by him. He was a rapist and hypocrite and debased. I have no pride in my actions but little regret either. Had I thought of it then, I might have pursued that bastard judge. My God Mary, I never knew such anger or that I was capable of such things.’

  ‘Hush my sweet man. It is the past and we must start anew. Perhaps we can do so in this country.’

  Mary wanted to believe that, had to believe it, and now, at last, began to feel that she could make a new life. She and Jack were reunited, and she would know happiness again.

  She embraced him and Jack sobbed.

  33

  Marriage

  Tom Clutterbuck chewed hungrily on his piece of pork, flicking ants from his breeches as he did so. ‘This here meat’s dry and tough as boots.’ His complaint not directed at any of the three other boys nearby. His teeth pulled at a tough piece that was stubbornly adhering to its parent bone, raising his head when Corporal Munday tapped it with a ramrod.

  ‘Mind you don’t let the sergeant hear you boy or he’ll `ave you wearing it `stead of eatin` it’. The corporal grinned at the lad. Young Tom was growing up fast, he thought. Could be a good soldier, given a bit of time. He had shown he could shoot, and hunt, but he was a bloody cocky youngster.