by Di Morrissey
‘They live in my neighbour’s paddock, think they’re retired racehorses out to pasture. I’ve just met her – Kerry Smith, ever heard of her?’ The boys were such gossips and interested in everyone in the district, Dani figured they’d know of her.
‘Kerry Smith, I’ve heard of her ‘cause of the horsey thing,’ said George immediately. ‘Bit of a recluse apparently. Did a lot of show jumping and married a horse trainer and lived in Sydney. Her husband was killed in some nasty accident. I’m fuzzy on the details. She’s related to the original family who own your place and I think they let her live here quietly. Think she went a bit nutty after the whole nightmare.’
‘Well, who wouldn’t,’ added Claude.
‘If she’s a bit off the planet is Tim safe with her? They seemed to hit it off,’ worried Dani.
‘She’s probably more comfortable with kids than adults. I wouldn’t worry about it, darl.’
‘It’s nice for him to have an outside interest like that,’ added Claude.
‘Yes, it does keep him away from the computer,’ said Dani watching Claude tie up the box with the quiche and flan inside. ‘By the way, Tim is complaining I’m feeding him restaurant food. He wants barbecued bangers.’
Claude shuddered. ‘Oh no, we have to raise his level of food appreciation above that. Send him round to my kitchen to learn how to cook.’
‘Seriously, would he like that?’ said George. ‘What about a job on Saturdays helping out in a simple way, like peeling some carrots? We’ll pay him and it just might get him to understand what good food is all about.’
Such an idea had never occurred to Dani. ‘He shows no interest in food at home, other than eating it. But for money . . . who knows? Thank you both for offering. I’ll suggest it.’
Dani mentioned Tim’s fascination with the two horses to her mother and Lara was immediately enthusiastic.
‘Riding lessons, that’s the shot. Be good for him, give him an interest of his own instead of tagging along with the others all the time.’
‘I can’t afford riding lessons!’
‘I’ll shout him. Goodness, this is the country, not snooty Centennial Park Stables. Must be any number of people who give lessons. What about the woman who owns the horses? She sounds experienced,’ said Lara.
‘Mum, she’s weird. Gave me the creeps. And I’m not letting Tim on a thoroughbred show jumper. And don’t mention it to Tim. I don’t want to get his hopes up.’
‘Maybe when I move into Cricklewood on Friday I can ask around. Perhaps Tim could stay a night or two with me in town after school.’
‘We’ll see.’ But Dani was tempted. It would be good for Tim to play with schoolmates after school, join a soccer team or whatever. And a night or two to herself would be nice. Roddy flashed into her thoughts. She’d made the introduction to Patricia Catchpole and he’d called Dani to thank her, saying he was going to be busy planning a presentation to the council and he’d see her soon. Dani said that would be nice, but she wasn’t that anxious for another date. Just knowing he was around was pleasant but she was enjoying her son and time alone with her painting.
And she was really looking forward to the expedition into the foothills of the valley to find Isabella’s original home site. Like her mother, she’d be digging into the past.
10
Mount George, 1846
Isabella
IT WAS MIDDAY AND Isabella was having her lunch served by Mary, a servant so inept Isabella had dismissed her once already. With no other good help available Isabella had been forced to rehire her. The meal was unexpectedly disrupted by the distant sound of livestock.
‘What’s that noise?’ Isabella, clearly annoyed, got up from the table.
‘Sounds like sheep.’ Mary glanced through the window but could see nothing.
‘Come with me, we’d better see what it is.’
Isabella had frequent problems with people moving stock through her property as the main stream crossing in the area was on her land. Several times some of her horses had gone missing. As there’d been no rain for some time, she was in no mood to let travellers take advantage of what grass she was nursing to feed her own cattle.
The two women walked briskly to the top of a small hill behind the house and looked out on a vast spread of cleared grazing country.
‘Oh, Miss Kelly, just look at that,’ exclaimed Mary.
Isabella folded her arms and scowled. A huge herd of sheep were spread over her property. ‘Right,’ she snapped. ‘I’ll get a horse, you put away lunch and get the dogs.’
Over the next hour Isabella and Edward, one of her stockmen, rounded up about six hundred sheep and moved them to her stockyards. As they paused to drink from water bags carried to them by Mary, a young shepherd arrived at the yard.
‘Who is your master?’ demanded Isabella, making no attempt to disguise her anger.
‘These sheep are owned by Mr Rowley over there. Mr Brisbane, his overseer, told me to rest here awhile.’
‘Did he indeed. We’ll see about that. Now you can help us put the last of them in the yard and then I’ll deal with who said what and who owns what.’
Isabella watched as they struggled to round up the last of the herd when a horseman came galloping across the home paddock and headed straight at Isabella, pulling up his horse with a vicious jerk with only a few yards to spare. It looked as though he was going to ride right over Isabella and she stumbled, hampered by her long skirt, but quickly struggled to regain composure.
The horseman, red faced and angry, shook his fist. ‘And what are you about, madam?’
‘You are Brisbane, the overseer, I take it?’ said Isabella coldly. ‘These animals are eating my feed. I’m impounding them and charging you two pence a head for their release.’
‘Never. These sheep belong to your neighbour and you have moved them from his land,’ protested the overseer who jumped from his horse, barely holding his temper in check.
‘That is not so. His land begins on the other side of the gully. The sheep had crossed onto my property. I am within my rights to demand payment for their feed.’
The overseer ignored her, strode to the yard and began pulling down the rails to release the sheep.
‘Edward, get those rails up again,’ called Isabella.
Her worker began lifting the rails but Brisbane slammed them down once more. The two men argued, and almost came to blows. Mary had edged a short distance away, looking concerned. Isabella hurried into the house and returned with a lock and chain.
‘Here, Edward, chain the gate,’ said Isabella. At that moment, her neighbour George Rowley, who owned the sheep, rode up demanding to know what was going on with his sheep and his overseer.
‘I am impounding your sheep for grazing unlawfully on my land,’ shouted Isabella.
‘You have no right! Don’t be so insufferable, woman. Brisbane, drop those rails,’ exploded Rowley.
There was a scuffle between Rowley, Brisbane and Edward and when Isabella stepped in to break up the fighting, she could smell the liquor on Brisbane’s breath. Brisbane turned on her, grabbing her by the neck, twisting her and kicking her in the back, eventually knocking her down.
Edward, battered and frightened, fled as Brisbane picked up a rock and threw it at him. The young shepherd took fright and bolted too. Mary began backing away towards the house. Isabella struggled to her feet, shouting at the two men, pulling at Rowley’s jacket as he and Brisbane dropped the rails and the frightened sheep began to stream out of the yard.
Brisbane, incensed and furious, lifted his stockwhip and lashed out at Isabella, the handle of the whip striking the side of her face, drawing blood. She turned to run to the house when for good measure Brisbane flicked the whip, hitting her arms and shoulders.
After Brisbane and Rowley left with the sheep, Isabella bathed her face and tried to cool her anger as she examined the red welts around her neck, arms and shoulders. She summoned Mary who stood sullenly in the doorway.
‘You saw what happened Mary?’
The girl nodded.
‘Do you know where Rowley’s shepherd might be?’
‘No, ma’am.’
‘I am going to swear out an arrest warrant for Brisbane and Rowley and I will require you and Edward to give a deposition about what you saw.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
Since Rowley was also the local magistrate, Isabella had no choice but to travel further out of the district in order to lodge her complaint against her neighbour. It would be several weeks before the case could be heard.
Just before the hearing, as Edward was driving a mob of Isabella’s cattle along the public road, the overseer Brisbane rode towards him and pulled him up.
‘Ho, you there. You still working for that witch of a woman?’
‘I am employed by Miss Kelly,’ Edward answered.
‘And these be her cattle?’ asked Brisbane.
‘I am moving them along a public thoroughfare,’ replied Edward cautiously.
The overseer gave a strained smile. ‘And fine-looking cattle they are too. So, would you care to come and take some refreshment at my home?’
‘Thank you, sir, but no. I will keep about my business.’ Edward had the feeling Brisbane might want to talk about the forthcoming court case in which he would be giving evidence against the overseer and his employer, Rowley. As Edward turned his horse, Brisbane gave a sharp whistle and short command to his dogs, setting them among Isabella’s cattle which, taking fright, bolted, scattering in all directions.
‘Well, now, look at that,’ said Brisbane with a malicious smirk. ‘You should control your cattle better. Miss Kelly won’t be pleased with you.’
Isabella travelled alone to the committal hearing and sat in the small courtroom, tight-lipped, listening to the evidence. The shepherd had little to say other than he was obeying Brisbane’s instructions and had run away when the argument between Brisbane and Edward broke out.
Brisbane testified that when he found Miss Kelly impounding the sheep, he offered to pay generously for any damage they had done but she became abusive and had struck him with a stick. He didn’t look at Isabella who was clearly outraged by his blatant lie.
When Isabella took the stand, she was composed and calm, stating that the sheep most definitely had strayed onto her property and she had every right to impound them. Rowley’s sheep had been trespassing and destroying her property regularly for several years. She denied that she had struck Brisbane who had been abusive and, she believed, intoxicated. He had beaten her with his stockwhip and Rowley had looked on. No one came to her aid. Here she shot an accusing glance at Mary.
Edward backed up his mistress’s story to the point where he’d run away when Brisbane had struck Miss Kelly, after which he saw nothing else.
Rowley admitted he had arrived late on the scene. Under cross-examination he maintained that Isabella Kelly’s testimony was unreliable because she’d already been before him several years ago over an outstanding bill, which she refused to pay. Although Isabella rose out of her seat to justify the unpaid bill, she was refused permission to speak.
Mary took the stand, head lowered, avoiding Isabella’s eyes. Mary had left Isabella’s employ right after the incident with the sheep saying she was getting married. Although this left Isabella short-handed she was glad to see the back of the inept servant. Mary told the magistrate that they had heard sheep and went out and found them coming from across the gully from Mr Rowley’s land. She saw Miss Kelly and Edward impound the sheep and when Mr Brisbane arrived he had put his hand gently on Miss Kelly’s shoulder and begged her to release the sheep. Miss Kelly struck him. Mary denied emphatically she’d seen any attack on Miss Kelly.
The judge summed up and the jury retired to consider the verdict, emerging swiftly to find the two men, Rowley and Brisbane, guilty of allowing their sheep to stray, but not guilty of attacking Isabella. They were given a three-month sentence and a large fine.
Isabella felt genuinely sorry for Mrs Rowley and over the next few weeks she sent Edward several times to see if she needed any help. Her offers were refused but Mrs Rowley did petition the court for a reduction of her husband’s sentence. A month later the court released Rowley. After Brisbane was released from gaol, he married Mary the following month.
These events only cemented the idea in Isabella’s mind that she should move from the mountain to her property at the river away from troublesome neighbours who so blatantly lied and cheated her.
Florian and Noona had a second child, a little girl, and were managing her river property very well. Frank, the teenage orphan boy, had become attached to Florian’s family. They had, as Isabella instructed, stockpiled a lot of fine cedar which Isabella planned to use to build a home. She would keep the grand house at Mount George in the hope that her dream of establishing a township would come to fruition. Occasionally her thoughts strayed to her guardian’s son George Crowder back in London but she never dared write in her letters her desire that one day he would come to New South Wales and establish himself in the valley.
Isabella packed basic goods to take with her in the dray to the temporary river house. She’d sent a message ahead to notify Florian she was coming for an extended visit, and had Edward and another hand round up the best of her cattle on the mountain property to sell through an agent. Leaving a small herd behind. The money raised would finance her new home at the river. She was aware that splitting her business between the two properties would be inconvenient, but she saw no other way out of the predicament aggravated by the court case. The staff had been drastically reduced. Mary had not been replaced and Isabella managed without any female help.
After checking out the loaded dray with her two best horses tied behind, Isabella took her writing box filled with important papers from her desk. She was very attached to the beautiful walnut box that her guardian, Sir William Crowder, had given her as a parting gift when she sailed from England. His initials were etched on the sterling silver clasp. She tucked it among her belongings, which included a large box of precious plants wrapped in wet sacking. Ensuring the house was secure, she padlocked the gates and set out on the track to the public trail that would take her thirty-two miles down to her other property close to the main river.
After the thickly timbered country of Mount George with its relatively narrow vistas across the ranges, she was delighted with the change of scene that greeted her on the second day on the creaking dray behind the steady tread of the horses. On a low hill she stopped to admire the sweep of the calm river with the lush flats fringed with narrow stands of silky oaks, eucalypts and paperbarks where her cattle grazed. The scene was idyllic, the glint on the water calming. The openness gave her a sense of freedom. At Mount George, even on good days, she never totally dispelled a nagging feeling of confinement or the sense she was being watched from the trees. She took several deep breaths, smiled with a sense of relief, and release, then urged her horses towards the rustic comfort of her river home.
Florian and Hettie, her loyal servants who’d been sent from Mount George to work at the river, were full of welcoming smiles. Noona hung in the background holding her new baby daughter cradled in a bark coolamon as Kelly, their little boy, ran towards Isabella, interested in all that was going on.
The small and almost primitive homestead cottage had spawned several simple bark shacks nearby since her last visit, and there was now a large bark roofed shelter that served as a communal dining area with a campfire and pit for cooking. Florian and Baldy, a ticket-of-leave employed by Isabella, quickly settled the horses in the rough bush stables and unloaded her belongings.
Hettie smiled to herself as she unloaded Isabella’s orchids and some other strange plants. Obviously the mistress was going to put down roots for a while. She was pleased that Isabella’s arrival coincided with her preparation of a fresh stew pot, loaded with vegetables from their well-fenced and thriving garden.
In the ensuing weeks Isabella made the best of the s
imple and spartan domestic facilities on the farm. Any inconvenience was forgotten as she worked on plans for her new home, sometimes discussing the detail with Hettie, who was thrilled at being involved in such an exciting and unexpected development.
She made a trip to Sydney by boat from Port Macquarie to arrange for construction of the home on the river using a bold combination of Sydney-basin sandstone, convict bricks and local cedar. While it wouldn’t be on the scale of her Mount George mansion, she wanted it to be a comfortable home.
Life had settled into a smooth routine. Hettie organised the domestic duties and Noona was proving to be an able assistant with the laundry, gardening and other chores. Occasionally Noona prepared bush food she’d caught, roasting a large goanna or a wallaby in a fire pit in the ground covered by green branches. Florian had an Aboriginal stockman to help with the enlarged cattle herd, branding and mustering.
Hettie’s new husband, Richard Ball, had been working in Sydney as an apprenticed clerk. When he returned Isabella promptly hired him to handle her paperwork and deal with her agents who she believed cheated her on occasion when she wasn’t present at cattle sales.
After some months she set out to return to Mount George. She needed to restock and check on the pastures. She had sent word to Edward of her visit and asked him to go bush and muster her cattle. For the first time in a long while Isabella was feeling cheerful about returning to Mount George. She believed she had control of her destiny. Her dream of becoming a successful landholder, horse and cattle breeder had been achieved. She was still determined, when the time was right, to build a township and ensure her legacy lived on. Isabella Kelly would make her mark and not be forgotten.
There were few to witness a meeting one subsequent chilly night when five men gathered at the house of one of the leading figures in the district. Their evening meal had been most satisfying, the wife of the host had withdrawn and the men settled down to cigars, port and the business at hand. At dawn the men mounted their horses and rode their separate ways, collars turned up against the cold air, hats pulled low. Only cattle standing motionless in the dewy paddocks watched their quiet departure.
