Death And The Running Patterer Part 23

EPILOGUE.

CORONER'S INQUEST. An inquiry was held before Major Smeathman, Coroner for Sydney, on Sat.u.r.day week, at Bax's Australian Hotel, on the bones of a woman. It came out in evidence that the men employed at Goat Island to cut stone, on Thursday last dug up an old cedar coffin, at the depth of about 14 inches from the surface, containing the bones in question. The jury returned a verdict, "That the bones were those of a female, which had been interred in a secret manner, about two years ago, but how, or by whom, to them unknown."

-Sydney Herald, June 13, 1831 June 13, 1831

AFTERWORD.

Pluck one thread, and the web ye mar; Break but one Of a thousand keys, and the paining jar Through all will run.

-John Greenleaf Whittier, "My Soul and I" (1847)

WHAT WAS TRUE? WHO WAS REAL?.

I can only echo Michael Crichton, who wrote of his work Next Next, "This novel is fiction, except for the parts that aren't."

My story began with the accidental discovery of the factual, terse inquest report-possibly not dusted off for more than 175 years-which is reprinted here as the Epilogue. Who was this dead woman? I wondered. What could have happened to her only a few years earlier?

And so I stepped back to the dusty streets and into the lives of long-gone people to create this other 1828. People and events are frozen forever in the amber of old letters, journals and reports. Some of the dialogue I have given my real-life characters are words they actually spoke or wrote when they lived.

No solutions to the original mystery of who the buried woman was could be too improbable; the time and the place involved were ripe with intrigue and violence. The entirely "new" country, on the other side of the world, a world turned upside down, was populated by little that was familiar: unknowable native "Indians" and weird, unfathomable fauna. Consider the platypus.

What were strangers to make of a duck-billed, furred mammal with webbed feet-a beast trapped halfway in evolution between reptile and mammal, laying eggs but suckling its young? Science then gave it a suitable name, Ornithorhynchus paradoxus Ornithorhynchus paradoxus (since altered to (since altered to Ornithorhynchus anatinus Ornithorhynchus anatinus), but most in Britain thought it a fake, a trick by taxidermists.

And Australia was was a place so out of this world that some convicts imagined they could escape across the nearby mountains to China; others really did believe that walking backward could return them their lost freedom. a place so out of this world that some convicts imagined they could escape across the nearby mountains to China; others really did believe that walking backward could return them their lost freedom.

Informed by many threads, this tale took to heart Shakespeare's p.r.o.nouncement: "Untune that string, and hark! what discord follows ..." The story became neither all fact nor all fiction-call it instead friction friction, in which real events, places and people (plus some mischievous inventions, suggestions and interlopers) collide. The result is fantasy and actuality tossed together.

The central characters of Rachel Dormin, Nicodemus Dunne and some of his immediate a.s.sociates, notably Norah Robinson and Brian O'Bannion, are figments of my imagination, as are the murder victims and Dr. Owens.

But I have drawn much from historical reportage. The backgrounds, secrets and troubles discovered by the patterer about the governor and his lady, Captain Rossi, the Flying Pieman, the Wentworths, Doctors Cunningham and Halloran, Alexander Harris and editor Edward Smith Hall involve the real concerns of very real people.

I have taken some liberties with their lives; I have, perhaps, rearranged their actions and compressed or s.h.i.+fted them in time to advance the story. For instance, Captain Rossi's various posts, while factual, did not overlap quite so neatly. And Dr. Halloran's failing newspaper receives a stay of execution in my fictional universe. Mr. Levey's theater had a longer, more difficult birth. The epitaph on page 301-a real one in the old Parramatta cemetery-critical of Squire's beer, of course has no bearing on today's brew of the same name. The cruel and unusual punishments for theft meted out to Privates Sudds and Thompson, however, are very painfully factual and unvarnished.

Is it plausible to cast Nicodemus Dunne as the b.a.s.t.a.r.d son of royalty-with his father a murderer to boot? Ernest, Duke of c.u.mberland, was widely regarded as the murderer of his servant. He was also said to have been implicated in an attempt on the life of the Princess 'Drina (later Queen Victoria), who stood in the way of c.u.mberland succeeding King William IV.

As shocking, and more guarded, were allegations that he had broken the ultimate taboo: incest. Gossip claimed that Princess Sophia, the fifth daughter of King George III, gave birth to an illegitimate child in August 1800, and that c.u.mberland was the father. Other versions, however, said that Thomas Garth, a royal equerry, was responsible. Perhaps Garth was just a smokescreen? It is impossible that the real Darling and Rossi could not have been aware of these scandals. Whether they reacted to them in any way remains unreported.

Dueling had been forbidden by 1828, yet records show it still flourished, and that the governor of New South Wales would fight over a matter of honor is eminently feasible. Even the highest in the land at "Home" in Britain did it.

Not a year after our story, the Duke of Wellington, war hero and First Minister, faced a political critic, Lord Winchilsea, over an insult. Their confrontation in a London field was as deliberately undamaging as the Garden Island affair. Wellington aimed well to one side, his opponent shot in the air and apologized. Just as in our duel, game over. And for the patterer to have remarked on it in 1828, the Duke of Wellington must have referred more than once to his soldiers as "the sc.u.m of the earth."

The a.s.sertion (that the truth may seem improbable after eliminating the impossible) attributed by Dr. Owens to the artist Horace Vernet coincides with the words used more than half a century later by Mr. Sherlock Holmes in Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's Adventure of the Greek Interpreter Adventure of the Greek Interpreter. And the curious incident of Madame Greene's teeth predates a similar deduction by Holmes, regarding the dog in the nighttime, in Doyle's Silver Blaze Silver Blaze.

The explanation is elementary: Vernet's life (1789-1863) was contemporary with that of Owens. And Holmes, of course, at one stage revealed that his his grandmother was that very artist's sister. grandmother was that very artist's sister.

I have used the common spelling of Bungaree (who, like Billy Blue, was a living person), although in contemporary records there are at least thirty variations. A French artist, Jules Lejeune, once even rendered his name "b.u.g.g.e.ry." His kingplate, or gorget, does not survive (although Queen Cora's does) and there are varying versions of its inscription; there may in fact have been more than one plate. His wide recognition may have sp.a.w.ned the word boong boong, eventually the enduring pejorative slang for Aboriginal.

At least I can a.s.sure readers that, in the making of this book, no Ornithorhynchus paradoxus Ornithorhynchus paradoxus was harmed, although a few sacred cows may have been skewered. was harmed, although a few sacred cows may have been skewered.

WHATEVER HAPPENED TO ... ?

Governor Darling was recalled to England three years after this adventure, to a promotion (to full general) and a knighthood. Less pleasing had been his farewell. W. C. Wentworth roasted an ox for a jubilant celebration and an illuminated sign in George Street spelled out, AWAY, YE DESPOT! An official English Parliamentary Inquiry cleared Darling of blame in the Sudds affair. As Captain Rossi foreshadowed correctly, the old lag Patrick Thompson had returned safely to Ireland and traveled to London to give evidence at the inquiry. Oddly, perhaps, he was never called. was recalled to England three years after this adventure, to a promotion (to full general) and a knighthood. Less pleasing had been his farewell. W. C. Wentworth roasted an ox for a jubilant celebration and an illuminated sign in George Street spelled out, AWAY, YE DESPOT! An official English Parliamentary Inquiry cleared Darling of blame in the Sudds affair. As Captain Rossi foreshadowed correctly, the old lag Patrick Thompson had returned safely to Ireland and traveled to London to give evidence at the inquiry. Oddly, perhaps, he was never called.

Dr. Laurence Hynes Halloran's newspaper, newspaper, The Gleaner The Gleaner, lasted for only a handful of issues, as the patterer accurately antic.i.p.ated. Halloran died in 1831.

Mr. W. C. Wentworth could look forward to a long and successful, if checkered, career, and to the start of a famous family line. His early, seemingly democratic leanings were to be compromised by his unrealized dream of creating a local hereditary peerage, dismissed derisively as a "bunyip aristocracy." He died in 1872. could look forward to a long and successful, if checkered, career, and to the start of a famous family line. His early, seemingly democratic leanings were to be compromised by his unrealized dream of creating a local hereditary peerage, dismissed derisively as a "bunyip aristocracy." He died in 1872.

Captain Crotty, like all old soldiers, faded away.

But Colonel Shadforth Colonel Shadforth, who died in 1862, became a leading light, literally, in the colony. He played a key role in the introduction of gas lighting in the town, as did our Gazette Gazette editor, the Reverend Ralph Mansfield. editor, the Reverend Ralph Mansfield.

The "Die Hard" 57th Regiment 57th Regiment (to which our tale's rapists did not, of course, actually belong) and the (to which our tale's rapists did not, of course, actually belong) and the 39th 39th soon made way for relieving garrisons. The last British troops to march out of Sydney, in 1870, belonged to the 18th (Royal Irish) Regiment. But there were no longer any new Irish prisoners to guard. Transportation to Sydney had been abolished in 1840. soon made way for relieving garrisons. The last British troops to march out of Sydney, in 1870, belonged to the 18th (Royal Irish) Regiment. But there were no longer any new Irish prisoners to guard. Transportation to Sydney had been abolished in 1840.

Editor and cleric-baiter Edward Smith Hall Edward Smith Hall, fined and jailed for his pugnacious publications, died in 1860, honored as a champion of the introduction of trial by jury and of freedom of the press.

Dr. Peter Cunningham, remembered for his medical successes and keen social eye, left the colony in 1830. His wanderl.u.s.t undiminished, he served on the Royal Navy's South American station, based in Rio de Janeiro.

Captain Francis Nicholas Rossi remained a leading figure on the Sydney crime and justice scene until his retirement in 1834. He died on his country estate in 1851. He never talked publicly about the case of Rachel Dormin or many other intriguing matters. remained a leading figure on the Sydney crime and justice scene until his retirement in 1834. He died on his country estate in 1851. He never talked publicly about the case of Rachel Dormin or many other intriguing matters.

"Old Commodore" Billy Blue sailed on until his death in 1834. He may have exaggerated his grand old age. London trial records gave his birth year as 1767-if so, he died at sixty-seven, not the eighty-six indicated by the census. And, to cloud the issue further, the Blue family bible entry claimed he died at a hundred! Murdering Point? The name became as forgotten as any crime there. It became, simply, Blue's Point. sailed on until his death in 1834. He may have exaggerated his grand old age. London trial records gave his birth year as 1767-if so, he died at sixty-seven, not the eighty-six indicated by the census. And, to cloud the issue further, the Blue family bible entry claimed he died at a hundred! Murdering Point? The name became as forgotten as any crime there. It became, simply, Blue's Point.

Sadly, his comrade in arms, Bungaree Bungaree, is largely forgotten. Death, speeded by drink, dethroned the "king" at an indeterminate age, four years before Billy's pa.s.sing. Cora Gooseberry Cora Gooseberry lived for another twenty years. lived for another twenty years.

Alexander Harris lived in Australia until 1840, when he left for the United States, Canada and England. His legacy was his vibrant book of recollections, lived in Australia until 1840, when he left for the United States, Canada and England. His legacy was his vibrant book of recollections, Settlers and Convicts Settlers and Convicts (1847). He died in 1874. (1847). He died in 1874.

William Francis King, the Flying Pieman, continued his career of astounding athleticism, becoming more and more eccentric until his death in the mid-1870s.

Ernest, Duke of c.u.mberland, became ruler of Hanover and died in 1851.

Princess Sophia never married and died in 1848. never married and died in 1848.

There was was a convict named a convict named James Bond James Bond. From Lancas.h.i.+re, he arrived on the transport Albion Albion in February 1827, and went to Hyde Park Barracks. He was caught as a runaway on April 7, 1828-but soon disappeared again. His fate is unclear. That Dunne and Queen Cora's young attacker shared the same name is pure coincidence. Or a case of ident.i.ty theft? in February 1827, and went to Hyde Park Barracks. He was caught as a runaway on April 7, 1828-but soon disappeared again. His fate is unclear. That Dunne and Queen Cora's young attacker shared the same name is pure coincidence. Or a case of ident.i.ty theft?

Dr. Thomas Owens's name seems to have been removed from all colonial medical records-perhaps a transgression after the facts related in our story merited this. Certainly, his grasp of medicine may seem quaint and crude (even dangerous) by modern standards, but he was, after all, a man of his times. Nevertheless, his diagnosis, long after the event, of Joseph Sudds's condition was astute, as was his clever conclusion as to the cause of Madame Greene's death. name seems to have been removed from all colonial medical records-perhaps a transgression after the facts related in our story merited this. Certainly, his grasp of medicine may seem quaint and crude (even dangerous) by modern standards, but he was, after all, a man of his times. Nevertheless, his diagnosis, long after the event, of Joseph Sudds's condition was astute, as was his clever conclusion as to the cause of Madame Greene's death.

There were, no doubt, many Irishmen in the colony named either Brian Brian or or O'Bannion O'Bannion, or both, but our man seems to have slipped from officialdom's gaze. We do know that many convict records were incomplete to start with and also that many criminal records were lost in the great fire of 1882 that destroyed the wooden Sydney Exhibition Building, where they were stored.

Or, perhaps, Owens, O'Bannion Owens, O'Bannion and and Norah Robinson Norah Robinson simply lived quietly and productively-except on those occasions when they were inveigled into more mischief and mayhem by ... simply lived quietly and productively-except on those occasions when they were inveigled into more mischief and mayhem by ...

Nicodemus Dunne, who regularly found he could not keep out of trouble. He is last heard of-perhaps?-in the mid-1850s. A business directory then refers to a Nicodemus Dunn (sic), a maker of ginger beer and soda water. Were they one and the same person? For the Nicodemus we knew, it would have not been an inapt career change. The patterer would always have agreed with Lord Byron, who wrote in Don Juan Don Juan: Let us have wine and women, mirth and laughter, Sermons and soda-water the day after.

Some of the few physical reminders of the patterer's time are the Hyde Park Barracks (now a museum), parts of The Rocks, St. James Church and the nearby courts, part of the Rum Hospital (now inhabited by well-nourished State politicians) and a rebuilt replica of Macquarie's lighthouse. Rachel Dormin's beloved Goat Island, surrounded by millions of Sydneysiders, is today as silent as, well, the grave. It is little used and unloved.

The Squatters' Bank-and who robbed it? Ah, well. That's another story ...

SOME SOURCES.

Ashdown, Dulcie M., Royal Murders: Hatred, Revenge and the Seizing of Power Royal Murders: Hatred, Revenge and the Seizing of Power, Sutton, Stroud, 1998.