Page 43 of Lizzie’s Spirit

“I received a letter from Mr. Andrew Thompson,” said Darcy as he walked with Elizabeth along the shore at Sydney Cove. “He would like us to visit him at his home, the Red House at Green Hills on the Hawkesbury, but also to visit his property, St. Andrews , at Minto.”

“Minto? I’ve never heard of it.”

“South of Parramatta, near an area called the Cowpastures . The land is very fertile; and, as he was awarded twelve hundred acres there by Governor Paterson, he thought we may wish to take up our grant adjacent to his. I spoke to Macquarie, and he suggests I visit the local magistrate in Parramatta, hold court for any prisoners who otherwise would be sent to Sydney for trial, and from Minto proceed to the Hawkesbury. What say you, Lizzie? Are there any women near their term? For I don’t wish to deprive them of your attendance. ”

“There is one, the wife of Private Hastie, who is soon to deliver. It should be within the week.” Elizabeth looked to Darcy, a broad smile enlivening her countenance.

“Oh, to journey into the unknown! While there’s much to see about Sydney, I’ve heard the country beyond the town is very beautiful, particularly the Hawkesbury River. I would enjoy such a diversion, very much indeed.”

Some weeks later, they put their scheme into action.

Darcy and Elizabeth rode, while Sgt. Monogan, Harshita, and their son were seated on the bench of a large covered cart containing their baggage, now pulled by two strong shaft horses from the government stables.

Accompanying them were Ann Reynolds and another lass, Maria Mitchell, who was to go into service at Mr. Robert Townson’s house, Varro Ville , which stood opposite St. Andrews.

Elizabeth was keen to meet Mr. Townson, who was by many accounts the best-educated man in the colony until her dear Darcy arrived.

Townson was a Fellow of the Royal Society of Edinburgh and author of many publications.

His books Philosophy of Mineralogy and Tracts and Observations in Natural History and Physiology were in her father’s library.

A large road led from Sydney to Parramatta.

Though it was still in the process of being paved, it was well-made and kept in good condition.

Almost everywhere the roadway was wide enough for three carriages to pass abreast. Bridges had been thrown over the major streams so that they met with no obstacles on their journey.

Having been opened through vast forests that never before knew the axe, to Elizabeth’s eye this road appeared at a distance like an immense avenue of foliage and verdure.

A charming freshness and an agreeable shade always prevailed, the silence of which was interrupted only by the singing and chirping of the richly plumed parroquets and other birds that inhabited it.

The whole ground over which they proceeded was flat, except for a few insignificant hillocks.

As they drew away from Port Jackson, the soil became less barren and afforded a great variety of vegetation.

In some parts there were large clearings between the trees, which were covered by a fine and sweet-scented grass, forming a verdant carpet and affording pasturage to numerous flocks of well-fed sheep.

***

At length, they arrived in sight of Parramatta, situated in the middle of a fine plain on the banks of the river of the same name.

Darcy had at first thought of travelling by boat from Sydney, but the necessity of acquiring horses and a conveyance for their baggage for the onward journey rendered the plan unsound.

The town was not as large as Sydney, containing some one hundred and eighty houses.

The main thoroughfare, George Street, terminated at the eastern end with the Barracks, capable of accommodating three hundred infantry.

This was built of brick, in the form of a horseshoe, and had in front a well-gravelled parade ground.

At the western extremity stood Rose Hill, from which the town first received its name; but it was afterwards called Parramatta—that being the original appellation given to this part of the country, and which generally prevailed amongst the English themselves.

The whole eastern front of Rose Hill, which sloped towards the town, was a gentle declivity, on which was situated a well-tended garden belonging to the governor.

Here, Elizabeth discovered, from a gardener working in the place, that many experiments were made with a view to naturalising foreign vegetables.

They also collected the most remarkable of the indigenous plants, intended to enrich the famous royal gardens of Kew. The aspect was altogether delightful.

Atop the summit of Rose Hill, they could see the Government House of Parramatta; it appeared simple, elegant, and well laid out—its principal importance was derived from its situation, which overlooked the town, as well as from its meadows, its woods, and the river winding past it.

The mansion was generally unoccupied, but Governor Macquarie had kindly lent them the privilege of staying there during their time in the district.

Thus, they were somewhat surprised when, ascending to the house, they were greeted at the door by Colonel O’Connell.

“Darcy, by Jove, what do you here?” O’Connell stepped forward to assist Elizabeth from her mount, Darcy dismounting easily from his saddle .

“I’m equally surprised, Colonel. Macquarie had intimated the house was unoccupied and my party could take our accommodations here.”

O’Connell flushed and looked nervously back towards the house. “You must be tired from your journey. Let us take some refreshments while your rooms are prepared.”

They entered a rather small drawing-room, which was much in need of repair and decoration. The furniture was shabby, the carpets worn and scuffed. Therein sat Mrs. O’Connell; she rose and gave a shallow curtsey.

“Has my dear colonel called for refreshment? Oh, I’m sure he has. It will arrive shortly… Mrs. Darcy, Mr. Darcy, ‘tis so pleasant to see you here at Rose Hill.” She returned to her seat, and indicated that her guests should do the same.

On their being seated, a pause, awkward as such pauses must always be, succeeded for a few moments.

The ensuing silence was first broken by Elizabeth.

“Mrs. O’Connell, we apologise for the intrusion.

We’ll remove to other accommodation so as not to inconvenience you, particularly if you are poorly. ”

“But why should you presume I am unwell?” Another awkward pause followed. “Oh, I suppose my father spoke to you. He wrote me that I should seek you out—foolish man, that he should confide in you . Does the whole of Sydney now know of my supposed condition?”

Insolent chit! As if I would betray such a confidence, said Elizabeth to herself.

But she had too much respect for Darcy’s position as judge-advocate to respond in any way other than to demonstrate her good breeding.

When she observed Mrs. O’Connell, it was abundantly clear the woman was not pregnant.

That she might have miscarried was possible, but her manner was all against it.

Though there was much to apprehend, Elizabeth didn’t have enough interest to discover it.

“Commodore Bligh spoke to me, indeed,” she replied, “but only concerning generalities. He was uneasy leaving you without his guidance but was comforted that, should the occasion arise, you might be able to seek my assistance as a woman of similar rank rather than elsewhere.”

Governor Bligh had spoken of his daughter’s imminent condition. That she had misled him was certain. But it did not signify; Bligh was gone out of the colony, the lady was now under the colonel’s protection. That she was at Parramatta was not Elizabeth’s concern.

“We’ve a letter of introduction to Monsieur Larra but had not thought to take him up on the offer to accommodate us. I believe we should do so.” Elizabeth looked towards Darcy, who immediately understood her intent.

“Governor Macquarie said this house is in very poor condition and only one sleeping chamber was safe, and that he would not remain more than two or three days together. Perhaps you occupy the only sound room.”

“We’ve not found it so terrible,” said the colonel, “but it’s in a lamentable shape.” Turning to Mrs. O’Connell, “Perhaps, my dear, we should remove to the Barracks—I’m concerned that Macquarie may have the right of it, that the house may be in danger of falling.”

Tea was brought in, but of such indifferent quality that both Darcy and Elizabeth were grateful when they could make their departure. As they exited the house, Sgt. Monogan came up with the cart; and, on being informed of their new destination, turned the horses and descended the hill to the town.

Monsieur Larra was a French Jew, recommended to them by Andrew Thompson, who respected him very much. They found his house greatly to their liking, the interior commodious and of superior furnishings to even those of Government House in Sydney.

Later that evening, after an excellent dinner served with the best Bordeaux wine, Darcy and Elizabeth retired to their chamber. Theirs was the better bargain: they rested in some luxury, whereas the O’Connells slept in the decaying Government House, or spartan accommodations at the Barracks.

“Lizzie, I didn’t catch the meaning of your conversation with Mrs. O’Connell.”

“My apologies, William, I hadn’t meant to keep from you Commodore Bligh’s words to me on the day of the O’Connells’ wedding. At the time, he spoke in confidence, but now we’re married, I meant to tell you.”

“You needn’t speak of it.”

“Oh no, there’s little to tell. You couldn’t know that the Commodore determined to refuse the colonel’s request to marry his daughter.

On being told she was with child he consented, much against his will.

Then he requested I take care of her during the pregnancy—even saying her life was in my hands.

His conversation was most extraordinary.

He also wrote to her, telling of his request to me.

That I would betray such a confidence! The woman attributes to others her own tendency towards malicious gossip! ”

“Mrs. O’Connell is known for such. But as you say, a most extraordinary circumstance. If she were with child, then she would certainly be showing.”

“Yes, she’s no longer enceinte, if she ever were.”

“Perhaps Bligh would’ve refused his permission—he’s a controlling man and would be loath to leave his daughter under another’s protection.”

“He said as much to me,” said Elizabeth. “I believe Mrs. O’Connell and the colonel deceived him to obtain his agreeing to their marriage. But she, some seven and twenty years old, and a widow—what right did he have to refuse?”

“It’s of no concern to us, my Lizzie. Let us retire—the bed in this room appears very comfortable, and I’ m eager to try it.”

Elizabeth was discomposed by the conversation with the O’Connells, for she couldn’t understand their behaviour. Such deceit, but both were adults and could have followed their own wishes without recourse to such a scheme.

Perhaps they had hidden away, she decided, believing all of Sydney thought Mrs. O’Connell was with child.

Then, after some months had passed, they would return to Sydney claiming a miscarriage.

But being discovered was not part of their plan.

Oh, how very unwelcome her appearance at Parramatta must have been.

The lady was antagonistic before—now, Elizabeth feared, dislike would turn to enmity.

Once under the covers, she was still restless and lay thinking about the exchange but was unable to resolve her dissonance.

William’s attentions soon restored her composure, and, finding the mattress exceedingly soft, they sought pleasure in each other’s embrace and then slept soundly, Lizzie wrapped safely in William’s arms.