To Love Anew (17 page)

“Them’s Aborigines,” a sailor said. “And ye can’t trust ’em. Ye’d be wise t’ keep yer distance. They been known to snatch whites.” His eyes were alight, almost feverish. “And they eat captives.”

He laughed at the gasps of horror and then added, “Ye best watch yer backs.”

“Port Jackson looks like a fine place,” said Lydia. “It might even be better than where we come from.”

“It’s tolerable as long as yer not staying too long,” another sailor said. “And it’s a wild place that don’t take kindly to convicts.”

Hannah tried to ignore the man’s comments. Life here had to be better than the ship’s hold. But even as she told herself this, the strangeness of the place felt powerful. It was nothing like England. The air was hot and damp, the trees looked peculiar, and the beaches with their golden sands were nothing like the ones she’d seen at home. She watched the Aborigines and her trepidation intensified. They looked so strange and terrifying. Would the soldiers protect them from the natives?

“How grand to be part of a small township.” Lydia’s green eyes held delight. “And look there toward the mountains. The air is blue. Have ye ever seen the like?”

“No, I haven’t. I prefer the London fog.” Marjorie Dalton’s chin quivered with emotion. “I adore London.”

No one commented. What could be said? London was home, this was not.

When the boat reached the dock, one of the sailors tossed a line to a soldier who secured the craft. Holding their muskets across their chests, the soldiers eyed the women suspiciously.

A shiver of fear coursed through Hannah. She stood in the rocking boat, her legs quaking.
Calm yourself
. She tried not to look at the soldiers.

Lydia was one of the first to disembark. She offered Lottie and then Hannah a hand.

After all the boats reached shore, the prisoners stood on the dock. The women huddled together, uneasy. Those who had hopes of freedom seemed especially edgy. When nothing was said about their being released, Rosalyn said, “I’m expecting a ticket of leave or perhaps a pardon.”

The sailors chuckled.

“I was promised.”

“Ye really believed that, eh?” one sailor taunted.

Rosalyn planted her hands on her hips and looked him square in the face. “I’ll not take a step until I speak to Lieutenant Brown.”

Hannah cringed inside. This is what she’d expected.
Poor
Rosalyn.

“You’ll do as yer told,” the sailor said. He looked at the soldiers. “She and the rest of these whores are yer problem now. Do with them as ye like.” He grinned. “There’s plenty of good fun to be had if ye’ve a mind.”

All but one of the soldiers seemed indifferent to the woman’s plight. He wore a hateful look. “Move on!”

“I’m not going,” Rosalyn stated.

The women standing close to her edged away. Looking fierce, the soldier strode up to Rosalyn. “You’ll go where I say and when I say.” He grabbed her hair and jerked her head back, then bellowed in her face, “You’ll do exactly as you’re told.”

She glared at him, but said nothing more.

The women were herded away from the port. Many walked with a clumsy sway.

Sick over what she’d just witnessed, Hannah did her best to follow. She was dizzy and the ground felt peculiar. It pitched back and forth. It simply wouldn’t remain still.

“What’s wrong with this place? The earth is tipping,” a woman said.

One of the soldiers grinned. “You’ve got sea legs; you’ll be getting your land legs soon enough.”

Giving no mind to the women’s difficulty, the soldiers kept a rapid pace and allowed no lagging. They moved up a hill toward the huts.

Most of the time Hannah kept her eyes on the ground, but when she chanced a glance at the soldier who had been so rough with Rosalyn, she could see he was studying her and the others with lecherous eyes. She trembled inside. During the voyage she’d managed to avoid the sailors’ advances. Would she now be forced to submit? What of Lottie and Lydia? She couldn’t bear the thought of their being so ill used.

Out of the corner of her eye, Hannah saw something move alongside the trail. At the same moment one of the women screamed. A black striped lizard stood its ground in front of the women. It stuck out a blue tongue, flattened itself against the ground, and hissed.

“My Lord, what is that?” asked Lydia. Even she sounded unnerved.

Hannah’s pulse jumped.
What kind of place is this? Blue air
and blue-tongued lizards?
Involuntarily, she glanced back at the ship. Had she been better off on board?

“Step lively,” a soldier ordered, ignoring the reptile.

When they reached the sandstone building Hannah had seen from the quay, they stopped. “Right then, off with your clothes,” the lead soldier said with a grin.

Hannah couldn’t believe what she’d heard. He couldn’t possibly expect the women to disrobe in front of him and the other men.

“Do as you’re told or I’ll lay a bludgeon across your skull.”

The soldiers shifted their muskets uneasily. One young man couldn’t even look at the women.

A rotund woman stepped out of a nearby building. “Enough of that. You blackguards. I’ll have ye reported. Yer to offer them some discretion and ye know it.”

The one in charge glared at the woman, but lowered his musket.

The woman marched up to the prisoners. “I’m Matilda,” she said as she removed the women’s leg irons. “Ye ’ave a need, ye ask for me.” After unlocking the last manacle, she straightened.
“
Now, inside with ye. Yer badly in need of a bath.”

She followed the women inside the building. “Take off those rags and wash yerselves. Make sure to use soap.” She wrinkled up her nose. “Yer not fit for decent company.”

The women moved into a washroom. There were barrels of clean water, bar soap, and towels.

For a moment, the women eyed each other, suddenly shy over exposing themselves.

“Well, I got nothing to be embarrassed about,” said Rosalyn, stripping.

The others followed suit. The idea of being clean overriding inhibitions, Hannah gladly shimmied out of her dress.

She washed her hair and then scrubbed every curve and crevice of her body, breathing in the scent of soap. As the filth fell away, she felt renewed.

Lottie needed help getting the soap out of her hair, but otherwise she was quite adept at washing herself.

“There are dresses for ye,” said Matilda. “Ye’ll each have two. Every week ye’ll wash the dirty one and put on the clean.” She pulled sacklike dresses out of a bag, handing one to each woman. “Not fancy, mind ye, but clean.”

“Thank you,” Hannah said, accepting hers. She pulled one over her head and pushed her arms into the sleeves. The material was coarse and the dress hung loosely, but Hannah didn’t mind. It was clean. She combed the tangles out of her hair with her fingers.

“Mum, ye look pretty.” Lottie smiled at Hannah.

“So do you.” Hannah tweaked the little girl’s nose.

Matilda hustled the women into an adjoining room. “Ye’ll wait ’ere for the surgeon.”

Hannah, Lottie, and Lydia sat together, leaning against a wall. The solid floor still tipped and rocked, but not as badly as before. Hannah stared at the windows. She hadn’t seen any in so long. They allowed air and light inside. Such a little thing, yet it meant so much.

Clasping her hands in front of her, Marjorie joined them. “Do you think they’ll have us put back in irons?”

Lydia shrugged. “Why? Where would we go?”

Marjorie held her shift away from her. “This dress is utterly impossible. It has no style whatsoever.”

Lydia closed her eyes in an exaggerated way. “That’s the least of our worries.”

A small man with a tiny mustache and a stern expression stepped into the room. “Everyone stand in a line.” Hands clasped behind his back, he waited while the women did as instructed.

When the last woman found her place, he stepped to the first. “You have any complaints?”

She shook her head no.

“Bend forward.” She did as told and he examined her scalp. “Straighten up. Open your mouth.” He examined the inside of her mouth, her throat, and her teeth. After that, he palpated her neck and then said, “Cough.” He checked the skin on her arms and legs then moved on.

Most of the women were emaciated from lack of proper nutrition and illness. Some had oozing sores about their ankles from the irons and a myriad of other skin infections. Many had rasping coughs.

As the surgeon moved along, he took notes and offered ointments or liniments to some. A few he separated from the group, asking them to stand by the door.

Keeping hold of Lottie’s hand, Hannah waited her turn and wished there were some way to avoid the degrading examinations. But of course there wasn’t.

When he’d examined each one, he looked at Matilda. Nodding at the women he’d set aside, he said, “See they get to the infirmary.” Without another word he walked out.

A few moments later, soldiers appeared and marched those deemed healthy out of the building. The women were steered toward derelict huts. Several were ordered into each. Still holding Lottie’s hand, Hannah prayed they’d stay together.

The one in charge pointed at Hannah, Lottie, Lydia, Marjorie, and Rosalyn. “You five! In here!” He grabbed Rosalyn’s arm and shoved her toward the door. She shrugged him off. Instantaneously, he backhanded her across the face. “I know your kind. If you want to live, you better smarten up.”

Rosalyn didn’t look at him. Holding her body erect and without saying a word, she stepped into the hut. Hannah followed her, wondering why she insisted on being so pigheaded.

The hut had a dirt floor, five woven rope hammocks, and a chamber pot. Its two redeeming qualities were a door that could be left open and a window.

“This isn’t so bad,” said Lydia. “It’s better than the hold of the ship, I’d say.”

Rosalyn dropped into a hammock. She touched her cheek. It was already bruising.

Lottie crossed to her. “Are ye all right?”

“Yeah. He didn’t hurt me.”

“He will,” said Lydia. “Ye bring trouble on yerself and on the rest of us.”

“What’s that?” shrieked Marjorie, her eyes fixed on a corner of the room.

A huge brown spider as large as a woman’s hand was fastened to the wall.

“It looks like a sea crab.” Marjorie stepped backward as far from it as she could get. When she backed into the opposite wall, she startled.

Lottie huddled close to Hannah. “I never seen a spider that big.”

“It’s easily taken care of.” Rosalyn swung out of her hammock, walked up to it, and removed a shoe. With a swift blow, she smashed it. “No matter how big it is, it’s still just a spider.” She ignored the mashed remains on the wall and returned her shoe to her foot.

“Aren’t you going to clean it up?” Marjorie asked.

“Must I do everything?” Rosalyn eased into her hammock, folded her arms behind her head, and closed her eyes.

“But it’s ghastly.”

Wearing a smirk, Rosalyn looked at Marjorie. “Then I’d say ye ought to get rid of it.”

“Oh!” Marjorie exploded.

Lydia picked up a stone from the floor and scraped the remains off the wall, then tossed the rock out the door. “If we’re to be housemates, we’d best learn to get along.”

Lottie fell into a hammock. Wearing a smile, she pushed one foot against the floor and swung back and forth. “This is fun.”

Although feeling like a lost soul, Hannah offered the little girl a smile. Weariness enveloping her, she took the hammock next to Lottie. She closed her eyes and sleep quickly overtook her.

15

Marjorie scooped out the last of her porridge with her fingers. “The very least they could do is give us proper utensils. They make us eat like animals.”

“We don’t need yer complaining today,” Rosalyn said.

“At least we’ve something to eat,” Lydia said in her usual cheery voice.

Hannah dropped the last bite of biscuit into her mouth. It was dry, but filling.

“Do ye think we’ll work for the Browns again today?” Lottie asked.

“I should think so. We’ve been there a week now. Mrs. Brown seems well pleased with us.”

Hannah was happy to work for Mrs. Brown. She and Lottie scrubbed floors, washed clothes, and helped with other household chores. None of it was overly taxing, and working helped the days go by. She’d also been asked to do some sewing, which Hannah thoroughly enjoyed.

“I rather like it there.” Lottie smiled. “Mrs. Brown’s nice. Sometimes she gives me treats.”

“She is nice,” Hannah said, thankful that she and Lottie had been assigned to someone who treated them with courtesy. Mrs. Brown had married a soldier who’d been assigned to Port Jackson. She’d decided to accompany her husband rather than wait for him in England.

The Browns had three children, a set of twin boys and an infant. The boys were lively, and Mrs. Brown had her hands full trying to keep up with them and her new daughter, which is why Hannah and Lottie had been assigned to her.

Lydia hadn’t been so lucky. She worked for a family who lived on the outskirts of Port Jackson, and it seemed they had little respect for convicts. They threatened to beat poor Lydia over the least infraction and worked her so hard that at the end of each day she dragged in exhausted with barely enough energy to eat. She’d fall asleep immediately after her evening meal.

Marjorie and Rosalyn had both been assigned to local businesses where they sorted and packed goods and kept the establishments clean. They were treated decently enough, but of course Marjorie managed to find reason to complain.

“It’s time we were off,” Hannah said to Lottie. She settled her eyes on Lydia. “I’ll keep you in my prayers today.”

Lydia smiled. “Thank ye. I’ll be fine. A bit of hard work never hurt anyone, I always say.”

Hannah and Lottie didn’t have far to walk. The Browns’ home was less than a mile from the gaol. Hannah still worried, though, about hazards and would keep watch for any kind of threat, especially Aborigines. She’d seen a few about town but had never had an encounter. There were other dangers as well. More than once she and Lottie had come across snakes warming themselves in the midst of the path, and there were a number of different kinds of lizards. Hannah didn’t like snakes or lizards.