English passengers (48 page)

My enthusiasm, I regret to say, did not endure long. The next morning I purchased a copy of the
Colonial Times
only to discover that, behind his friendly demeanour, the reporter was nothing less than a Judas. Alongside the shipping column he had concocted a short article describing our venture, while the tone of this was, I regret to say, wilfully spiteful. He contested my assertion that the Garden of Eden was to be found in Tasmania, though, rather than present his arguments in a manful
fashion, he instead chose to treat the matter with a contemtible face-tiousness. Much of the piece, indeed, consisted of other biblical events that he suggested might also be ascribed to the antipodes, all chosen for their absurdity, such as that the Israelites had endured their captivity in Port Arthur, and had been led by Moses to freedom between the parted waters of Sydney harbour.

It was not long, however, before my spirits were raised once more. The next day the three of us called at Government House (there seeming little point in trying to discourage Potter from attending), where, I am happy to report, we were received with utmost graciousness by His Excellency Governor Denton and his charming wife. The governor was a most cultured man, of good family, who showed the greatest enthusiasm for our venture, and made no reference to the
Colonial Times
. He was kind enough to invite us all to a social gathering that he and his wife were holding just before Christmas, and provided me with the names of various tradesmen whom he felt might be of usefulness with regard to the final arrangements for the expedition.

The more I set to work on these preparations, the more evident it became that the ugly cynicism of journalism was not reflected elsewhere in Hobart society. Everybody I spoke to seemed greatly intrigued, indeed, by the thought that their remote island home was of great biblical significance, and wherever I went I found myself the subject of curiosity. Before long a little stream of visitors began to call at our lodging house, including leading tradesmen and shop owners, all eager to express their interest in our venture and to discover if we had need of the goods they sold.

Then again, the more I saw of this little town, the more I was surprised by its unexpected sophistication. It was hard to believe that the first settlers had arrived here barely half a century ago, as it was already possessed of a most genteel ambience, recalling to mind some sleepy Sussex seaside town that has perhaps seen better days. The streets were quiet and the inhabitants pleasingly courteous, being often in their middle age, as many of the younger generation had ventured away to Victoria to try and make their fortunes from the gold rush. A few were inclined a little to gloominess, it was true, and I heard many complaints that trade was poor, especially with regard to the island’s whaling industry
(it seemed that these foolish creatures, which had lately thronged about Tasmania’s shores, had taken it upon themselves simply to vanish away). In the main, however, the Hobartians proved quite as delightful as their town. How pleasing it was to find a place, though it lay on the remotest side of the earth, where everything—from inns and shops to the inhabitants’ speech, even to the paintwork of coaches—was unmistakably
English
. Better still, this was Englishness of a charmingly old-fashioned kind, that quite took me back to the days of my own youth, before the railways sent everyone rushing so. How preferable it was to Melbourne, which was so filled with restless clamour and greed. Melbourne had seemed hardly English at all except in name, being quite how I would imagine some brash new settlement of North America.

I wasted no time but quickly set to work to make us ready for the mighty task ahead. My first concern was the choosing of our route, and this was easily decided. I had considered having the
Sincerity
ferry us directly to the western coast, but this would have entailed sailing against the prevailing winds, which might waste weeks of valuable time, and so I concluded that the best approach was by land. I questioned the traders who called at our lodgings, then set about examining the latest maps of the colony, and though the western area of these were absent of any but the vaguest features, the tale they told was amply clear. One of the four rivers that I had identified as being mentioned in Genesis was the Der-went (aboriginal name Ghe Pyrrenne: Euphrates), the very waterway that flowed past Hobart. What could be simpler! If we followed this as far as its source we must eventually find ourselves looking upon Eden.

Arranging the practicalities of the venture proved altogether more troublesome, while matters were not helped by the fact that I received almost no assistance from my two fellow members of the expedition. Attempting to rouse Renshaw from his slothfulness wasted more time than it saved, while Potter was hardly ever to be seen. I tried leaving him notes, detailing any simple task which I had not time enough to attend to myself—such as arranging the removal of the mules’ dung—but it was to little avail. Even the Manxmen were uselessness itself. Several times I visited the ship to request that some item from our stores be brought to the lodging house, only to find that Captain Kewley, first mate Brew and second mate Kinvig were all of them away. Finally, losing patience, I
browbeat the giant, China Clucas, to tell me where they were hiding, and, with reluctance, he revealed that they were meeting a tidal waiter of the customs and excise by the name of Quine in one of the local taverns. I was a little puzzled as to why Kewley should wish to spend time with an officer of the customs, whose work should have been completed long before, but all soon became clear. Entering the inn, with some distaste, I found all of them, including Quine—a little weaselly man who stood entirely upon one leg, the other tapping about the ground in a kind of secret dance—were speaking not in English but Manx. I was not impressed. While I had no objection to
Sincerity’
s officers reminiscing about their faraway homeland, this seemed no excuse for their neglecting their duties, and I was obliged to rebuke Kewley in strongest terms for his constant absence from his vessel. He was, I was pleased to observe, not a little embarrassed.

Despite such discouragements I managed to make good progress with our preparations. I procured food to supplement our English-bought stores, including quantities of rice, flour, desiccated fruit and vegetables. I found also mules, though this was not easy. The extent of our supplies was such that I had quite to scour Hobart for sufficient animals to meet our needs, while the creatures’ owners showed a timorousness hard to credit, and were so fearful that we might encounter some mishap that they quite refused to let us hire their beasts, insisting we purchase each one outright. This absurd demand proved a great burden upon the expedition’s funds, a fact that was particularly irksome, as it meant I would not, as I had hoped, be able to hire a manservant of my own. This had been my wish, I should explain, not for my own self, but simply for the good of the expedition, as it would be quite unseemly for the venture’s leader to be less well attended than junior members of the party. Seeing as it would be impossible to recruit a new servant, I hoped the doctor might—for once—place the interests of our enterprise before his own petty selfishness, and I left him a note requesting him to relinquish his fellow Hooper. His response was, I regret to say, curt almost to the point of provocation.

Even then I did not despair, and it occurred to me that I might employ one of the mule drivers in this capacity. In the event, however, it proved no easy matter finding any who were qualified even to control
the animals, let alone who would be skilled as an attendant. I placed advertisements in the local press, but of the applicants who replied one would be old and frail, the next would be shamelessly drunk, while none seemed possessed of even the smallest piety, and I suspected many were former convicts. Of the six I eventually chose, only one, whose name was Skeggs, had experience of the task before him, having acted as mule driver for an unsuccessful expedition to find gold on the Australian mainland, and, though his manner surly, I supposed this a price worth paying for his knowledge of the animals. The other five had no qualifications beyond a familiarity with horses. Having no great confidence in any, I decided to appoint three to act jointly as my servers, which seemed the least poor arrangement.

More troublesome still was the question of a guide. I knew from the start that this would be a cause of difficulty, the interior of the island being all but unknown, and yet I had hoped that there might be somebody who, if he had not traversed the western wilderness, would at least have ventured a little about its fringes. It was not to be. The few men who answered my advertisements all proved to be charlatans, while my new tradesmen friends informed me that the only significant exploration of that part of the colony had taken place more than twenty years previously, and that the government officer who had undertaken it—a man named Robson—was now living comfortably in England, while even he had rarely strayed from the coast. It seemed this was indeed Terra Incognita. Accepting that there was little more that could be done, I resolved to cast the matter from my mind, and rely upon the benevolence of Him whose will this expedition was intended to serve. If there was no one to guide us, then I would simply have to guide us myself.

Days passed and several times I found myself taken aback by the sight of a gaudy shop display, or by an overheard conversation concerning methods of cooking geese that reminded me that this was December. A spell of unusually hot weather caused the streets of Hobart to shimmer and the men and beasts that travelled them to slow and sag in discomfort, so it was hard to believe that thousands of miles distant—and quite beneath my very feet—Englishmen were lost in midwinter darkness, struggling to keep themselves warm against the elements, as they made their seasonal purchases. I was not so remiss, however, as to forget the
governor’s approaching party. This was an event to which I had been greatly looking forward, indeed, if only as an opportunity to further the interests of the expedition.

Even as we approached Government House I could see, from the large number of guests arriving, that it was a most grand affair, and sure enough, when I entered the garden it seemed as if all Hobart society was assembled before me, every one of them quite splendidly attired, despite the day’s warmth. At the centre of the throng stood a group of singers, red of face as they stolidly braved the sun, who regaled the guests with carols, while behind them a mighty tree, of some curious local variety, had been prettily decorated with candles and angels. Tea was to be found in abundance, and fine cakes too. The only element that might have seemed a little lacking, indeed, was a sense of the spiritual. Though Christmas was still a few days distant it was the true reason we were gathered thus, and, while I learned that a little Nativity drama was to be staged, it would have been pleasing to have a few words spoken, to remind us of the importance of the approaching feast day. It being the purpose of our expedition to discover a Christian significance for this wild land, I would even have been prepared to offer a little discourse myself had such a thing been suggested.

Such thoughts did not of course prevent me from cheerfully entering into the occasion. I wasted no time but endeavoured, with patient perseverance, to press my way through the throng assembled about the governor, that I might offer my greetings. He in turn displayed his usual graciousness, introducing me to several eminent Tasmanians before taking himself away to attend to further duties of hospitality. Thus I found myself conversing with a government servant concerned with tax collection, the owner of Hobart’s leading purveyor of ladies’ undergarments and the colony’s foremost offal merchant. All, I was delighted to find, were greatly interested in my expedition.

‘‘It’s just what the colony needs,’’ the offal merchant declared, with a prophetic air. ‘‘We want to catch a few eyes right now, to pull us from these doldrums.’’

‘‘If anything is found, that is,’’ added the shop owner more cautiously.

‘‘You may have every confidence of that,’’ I informed him cheerfully.

‘‘I would hardly have come all this way if I did not believe we will find success.’’

It was then that my glance lit upon a most curious-looking party passing behind them along the edge of the lawn. The group, which was being led by none other than the governor’s charming wife, was composed of black aborigines, a dozen or so in number. Their presence seemed all the stranger as they appeared to have little connection with the event occurring all about them: as I watched, they vanished behind a row of large plants in pots. I had heard that a very few of the native race of the island still survived; even so their presence seemed more than a little mysterious.

‘‘There’d be visitors aplenty, that’s certain,’’ continued the offal merchant. ‘‘Why, we’d be a place of pilgrimage! A new Holy Land. That’d help trade, for sure.’’

All at once there occurred to me a most wondrous thought. We needed a guide. What if we were to employ one of these aborigines? I found myself recalling to mind North American Indians who were used by Europeans to help in their explorations of that vast continent. I was surprised, in truth, that I had not thought of it before. Though most of the aboriginal party had looked unsuitable for such work, comprising females advanced in their years, I had observed at least one able-bodied male.

I began making my excuses to my three new acquaintances. It was just as I was setting forth through the crowd that I noticed, with some annoyance, that Potter—who had been loudly conversing with a party of doctors—was doing just the same.

T
WO
CARRIAGES
WENT
to Oyster Cove to get our ones, stopping at my COTTAGE to get me too. On their roof sat num COACHMEN and also SUPERINTENDENT
ELDRIDGE with his cheating eyes. Those two carriages were too small for us, yes, so I hardly could get inside and that was a heinous journey. Finally we arrived and I could get
air to breathe, and governor’s wife came hurrying, smiling too much, and saying, ‘‘Ah, dearest Eldridge, ah, dearest blackfellows, how fine to see you.’’ Then she was looking round us into carriage to see. ‘‘Did you bring crafts and spears like I asked?’’