Force and Fraud (33 page)

I have not seen Donald of late, for he now resides in Queensland; but three years have scarcely elapsed since he was the principal agent in exterminating a whole tribe of natives. Nor has this transaction been regarded with horror; for the blackfellows in that particular district had a short time before repaid the hospitality of a charitable man with a cowardly murder. Nevertheless, I think Donald was rather actuated by a determination to revenge the death of his own relations, than that of his Queensland acquaintance.

It is true that many years had passed since the massacre of my uncle and his family, and that the Queensland tribe had no hand in the affair, nor, indeed, anyone in existence, at the time of the latter occurrence; but is it to be supposed that Donald should ever show mercy to a blackfellow, whatever his tribe or district? This is understood by the very authorities, who have proclaimed the shooting of an aborigine to be a felony; for Donald fires at all he may chance to meet, with impunity.

As for myself, I have of late ceased to raise a hand against them; for the remnants of the scattered tribes I occasionally meet are too abject for my revenge. My revenge, you perhaps think, ought to have been appeased by what I have already done. I try to think so sometimes; but when the images of the friends I loved so well arise to my memory, I feel that if I would live apparently at peace with the natives, it must be by avoiding them. For a Highlander can never forgive.

The guests listened in silence to this narrative of a long-cherished hatred; and when the speaker concluded, a long suppressed sigh broke from his auditors. All felt that Ferguson must have sorrowed deeply for the death of his relatives; but the impression the story made was not the same on all.

Some there were who, even whilst living the life of Australian settlers, still felt very much as their fathers had done: that it was the first duty of a clansman to revenge the death of his chief. These men seemed ready to applaud whenever Ferguson spoke of the acts of wholesale extermination in which he had taken part.

Others had shuddered to perceive how relentless he still was in heart; for he appeared to dwell with satisfaction on those portions of his tale which chiefly referred to the cruelties he had practised; and then his eye flashed fire, as if it would say,
I hate them still
.

But amongst the group were a few who fancied those proud dark eyes had glistened with tears at the recollection of Isabella.

Perhaps Mr Lightfoot thought of his wife and children; for at the conclusion of the Highlander's story, he said, “We are not sufficiently thankful to the noble pioneers who cleared our path from so many dangers; for if
they
had not dispersed – and, in some cases,
destroyed
– whole tribes of these blackfellows, should we now be enjoying the blessings of civilised life?”

“Ye're right there, Mr Lightfoot; but these blessings have been purchased at a fearful price, and it's a sore trouble to remember these times,” said McLean; who, during the greater part of the story, had sat with his face buried between his hands.

“Civilisation has seldom been introduced by gentle means; nor – in spite of the rigorous measures resorted to by our friend Mr Ferguson – can it be said really to exist where a bushranger is either protected or regarded as a hero,” said Mr Ellison.

“Nevertheless, there are lights as well as shades, even in a bushranger's career,” remarked Mr Wildman, a barrister, who was often retained in defence of these Australian freebooters. “And, if it were not too late, I could tell you of an adventure that–”

“Was not foreshadowed by a dream, I hope,” said the doctor.

“A dream! No, indeed; there is almost as much actual busy life connected with it as in the stirring narrative of our friend Ferguson; but as it
is
late, I will postpone my story till another night.”

“You've frightened that fellow out of his senses, Ferguson. I heard him tell Mary not to let the poor black body into his room,” said the doctor, who now returned, after a visit to the bar; for the doctor, as well as Mr Ferguson and a few deep drinkers, often sat over the parlour fire till the small hours of the morning.

Mr Ferguson smiled contemptuously; and he and his countryman then entered into a discussion respecting local topics. Stupid as such may be, they often occupy as much time as more heroic subjects; and whilst the gentlemen were thus engaged, more than an hour slipped away.

Suddenly they were aroused by a dull sound overhead, like that of a man striking with his fists against a door; and presently a voice, naturally weak, but rendered still more so by fear, was heard to exclaim, “Mr Ferguson! Mr Ferguson! The blacks are upon us! The hotel will be burnt, and we shall all be murdered!”

“What has that cockney idiot taken into his head now?” demanded the Highlander.

“Ower much toddy, I'm a thinking,” replied the doctor.

“No, no! They
are
here, Ferguson. I had hoped never to see a tribe of blackfellows again!” exclaimed poor McLean.

Mr Ferguson regarded his friend with a look of disdain, asking him if he had lost his senses.

But the recollection of those deeds in which he had formerly taken a part was too much for McLean who, throwing himself on a sofa, endeavoured – by burying his face amongst the pillows – to shut out the vision of the past from his ‘mind's eye' as the
actual sounds
met his ear.

But so different was the effect produced upon Ferguson that he said to the landlord, who had now entered the room, “If you want to prevent bloodshed, keep your revolvers out of my way. I do not wish to shoot those blackfellows.”

By this time the excitement of Mr Skimmile became so great, that the joint efforts of the landlady and the chambermaid were insufficient to hold him, and he rushed wildly into the parlour, exclaiming that the hotel was attacked by a troop of blacks.

“Keep yourself quiet, sir; they are beating a retreat,” said the landlord. ‘“We have sent them some rum and cold meat; for they have been celebrating the moonlight night, by holding a corroboree!”

1.
Warwick Eunson, “Davitt, Arthur”,
ADB Online.

2.
Kyneton Observer
, 9 January 1864, 2; J. Alex Allan,
The Old Model School: its History and Romance 1852-1904
(Melbourne: Melbourne University Press, 1934) 21; V. Crittenden,
Australian Nineteenth Century Literature in Print, Broadsheet
2, (Canberra, Mulini, 1991): 2.

3.
Letter received from Roderick Groundes-Peace, 27 Sept. 1992.

4.
“The Late Mr. Edwd. John Heseltine,”
Sheffield Times,
24 Nov. 1855.

5.
Martha Heseltine's death notice,
Hull Packet
, 26 Nov. 1841;
Sheffield and Rotherham Independent
, 19 Sept. 1840, 2;
Morning Post,
15 Sept. 1840, 7.

6.
Victoria Glendinning,
Trollope
(Hutchinson: London, 1992), 223-7;
Sheffield and Rotherham Independent,
3 Nov. 1838.

7.
Sheffield and Rotherham Independent
, 6 June 1840; VPRS 892, Unit 32, Special Case 525,74/31997; 74/9448.

8.
Sheffield and Rotherham Independent
, 17 Sept. 1842, 2.

9.
Sheffield and Rotherham Independent
, 5 May 1849, 5.

10.
Freeman's Journal
, 5 Sept. 1853, 3.

11.
VPRS 880/44/54/427; Arthur H. Clark,
The Clipper Ship Era [ ...]
( Putnam: New York and London, 1910) 266, 275, 281.

12.
John Warren Whitings, Journal. Ms. 5071. National Lib. of Australia, Canberra. Entry for 25 June 1854.

13.
VPRS 880, units 44-8; Lawrence Burchell,
Victorian Schools: a Study in Colonial Government Architecture 1837-1900
(Melbourne: MUP in association with the Victorian Education Department, 1980) 40-2.

14.
Allan, 64, 21.

15.
Allan, 21, 40; VPRS 880 57/2320.

16.
Eg VPRS 880 56/1898,57/3038; Allan, 21; VPRS 880 57/737.

17.
VPRS 880 56/1497; Allan, 21; VPRS 880 57/826.

18.
‘J. A. A.' (J. Alex Allan)
Age
, 2 Sept. 1933, 6; VPRS 880 57/429, 57/478;

19.
Victoria. Legislative Assembly 1859-60,
Mr. and Mrs. Davitt,
Parl. Paper, 5.

20.
Victoria. Legislative Assembly 1859-60,
Mr. and Mrs. Davitt,
Parl. Paper, 6;
Argus
, 30 April, 8 and 24 Sept. 1859, 8; “The Wreck of the Atalanta”,
Australian Journal
, 30 June 1867, 690.

21.
Allan, 21; “Davitt, Eleanor,” in Kerr, Joan, ed.
Dictionary of Australian Artists, Painters, Sketchers and Photographers to 1870 (
Melbourne: Oxford University Press, 1992); Christopher Sly (Dr. Neild), “A Peep at the Pictures,”
Examiner and Melbourne Weekly News,
12 December 1857, 8.

22.
Letter received from Marjorie Theobald, 12 June 1992.

23.
VPRS 892,75/38834; 75/38607.

24.
Allan, 67;
Argus
, 27 March 1860, 5.

25.
“Weekly Miscellany”, 20 April 1861, 7;
The Letters of Anthony Trollope
. Ed. N. John Hall. Vol. 2. (Stanford: Stanford, 1983), 709.

26.
Patrick Morgan.
Folie à Deux: William and Caroline Dexter in Colonial Australia
. (Quaker's Hill: Quaker's Hill Press, 1999) 64;
Hamilton Spectator
2 Oct. 1863, 2.

27.
“Mrs. Dexter's Lecture”,
Sydney Morning Herald
28 Feb. 1855, 4; Davitt's lecture is reported in the
Argus
13 May 1862, 5, and the
Age
13 May 1862, 5.

28.
Hamilton Spectator
2 Oct. 1863, 2

29.
Osmund Thorpe,
Mary McKillop
(London: Burns and Oates, 1957), 284.

30.
Portland Guardian,
September 28 1863, 3l; Kerr states the connection was “frequently noted”, 200, but such is not the case;
Creswick and Clunes Advertiser
23 Oct. 1863, 2.

31.
See Lucy Sussex,
Women Writers and Detectives in the Nineteenth Century: the Mothers of the Mystery Genre
(Houndmills, Palgrave, 2010), 123.

32.
‘Force and Fraud', September 2-November 18 1865,1-4, (Chaps. I-III), 20-3 (III-VII), 37-40 (VIII-XI), 53-5 (XII), 69-72 (XIII-XV), 84-6 (XVI-[X]VIII), 101-4 (XIX-XX), 121-4 (XXI-XXII), 132-5 (XXIII), 150-3 (XXIV-XXVIII), 167-70 (XXIX-XXXI), 181-4 (XXXII-XXXV). The other serials in the first year of the magazine were ‘Black Sheep: a tale of Australian life', (November 25 1865-January 27 1866), ‘Uncle Vincent; or, Love and Hatred. A romance of modern times' (May 5-June 23 1866) and ‘Past and Futures: a tale of the early explorers', (March 18-24 1866).

33.
Argus
14 Nov. 1856, 5

34.
From
The Bertrams
, quoted in Glendinning, 466-7.

35.
‘The Wreck of the Atalanta',
AJ,
April 6-July 6 1867.

36.
AJ,
September 1869, 62; VPRS Special Case 525, 74/9448.

37.
VPRS 892, 74/9448; VPRS 892,76/26022,1; 75/38834; 76/26022,2.

38.
VPRS 892, 74/27733.

39.
VPRS 892,74/31997; 74/24825; 74/30068. VPRS 892,76/9591, 2; VPRS 892, Unit 30, Special Case 492, 75/14078.

41.
VPRS 892, Special Case 525, 76/9591,2;
Bendigo Advertiser,
4 May 1875, 2; VPRS 892, Unit 32, Special Case 529.

42.
VPRS 892, Special Case 525, 74/3431; Allan, 67.

43.
VPRS 892, Special Case 525, 75/38607; 76/9591, 2.

44.
VPRS 892, Special Case 525, 75/20722;
The Tireless Traveller,
ed. Bradford Alien Booth (University of California Press, Berkeley and Los Angeles, 1941) 106-8; Letter received from Peter Edwards, 1 Oct. 1992; Hall, 376.

45.
VPRS 892, Special Case 525, 77/43611

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