The Queen's Captain, page 25
Conan hesitated before saying, ‘Those are reasons I would rather not discuss.’ Ian could see that he should not ask why at this moment.
Instead, he changed the mood of the conversation. ‘Sarn’t Major, I never took you for a sentimental philosopher.’ Ian grinned, taking a gulp of his beer. ‘I think I should order another round before we go in search of our midday meal,’ he added and was about to rise from the table when a man entered the bar wearing the strange, dull uniform of a bushman. He cast about until his eyes rested on the two men in civilian clothes. He immediately walked over to them.
‘Captain Forbes?’ he asked tentatively.
Ian glanced up at the man, who was wearing a revolver and had a wicked-looking knife in his belt. ‘I am he,’ Ian answered.
‘Compliments of the Von, sir, he would like to finally make your acquaintance. I can take you and Sergeant Major Curry to him if that is convenient? I will escort you to Drury tomorrow. I will bring horses for the journey down the Great South Road at eight in the morning.’
‘It is convenient,’ Ian said as Conan swallowed the last of his beer. ‘We will be ready for the journey.’
The man left and Ian realised that he had not even identified himself, and Ian wondered what kind of military unit he and Conan were about to meet with.
*
The following morning, Ian and Conan met the same man, this time leading three saddled horses outside to their hotel.
‘I am Corporal Todd, sir,’ the man said without saluting Ian, who was dressed in his uniform of a British captain. The corporal now had a strange-looking carbine strapped over his back.
‘I have a feeling that you are an Australian colonial,’ Ian said.
‘I am, sir,’ the corporal answered. ‘I’m from Goulburn in New South Wales.’
Ian looked at Conan, and the two men exchanged knowing glances. For the first time in almost ten years, they were possibly serving alongside fellow colonials.
‘There are a lot of us colonials from Australia serving with the Forest Rangers,’ Corporal Todd continued as he swung himself into the saddle. ‘The Von prefers to enlist men who have experience living off the land.’
‘What is that carbine you have?’ Conan asked.
‘It’s a Calisher and Terry capping breech-loading percussion carbine, sir,’ the corporal dutifully answered. ‘The Von recognised that it was ideal for the dense bush we work in.’
‘I believe that it was meant for the cavalry,’ Conan continued. ‘You can’t attach a bayonet to it.’
‘True,’ the corporal admitted. ‘We have our pistols and knives for any close-quarter fighting.’
Ian was impressed at the equipment of the Forest Rangers. After his experiences with the regiment in the special operations he had led over the years in the Crimea and India, he approved of their leader’s choice of weapons.
The three horsemen set off and travelled down the Great South Road, hewn out of earth, rock and forest by the New Zealand military for the logistics of waging war in the Waikato district and beyond. By late afternoon, the three horsemen reached the small village of Drury and Ian could see a large military encampment of tents not far away. They came to a halt outside a hotel.
‘This is the Von’s HQ,’ Todd said, dismounting.
Ian and Conan also dismounted and stretched their bodies, feeling the curious eyes of the half a dozen tough-looking men upon them. Each man was heavily armed with the carbine, revolver and long knife. Ian guessed that they were members of the irregular Ranger company. None saluted the senior officer in his red coat, and Ian guessed they were probably colonial-born men with little respect for English formality.
The corporal led them inside the hotel where they saw an aristocratic-looking man poring through papers on a table. He glanced up and stood with a smile, advancing with his hand out.
‘You must be Captain Forbes,’ he said, gripping Ian’s hand firmly. ‘I am Captain von Tempsky.’
‘My sergeant major, Curry,’ Ian said, nodding towards Conan who was glancing around the bar.
‘I see that you have earned the honour of the Victoria Cross,’ von Tempsky said to Conan.
‘Yes, sir,’ Conan replied, not impressed with the lack of discipline amongst the Forest Rangers he had encountered outside the hotel.
‘Take a seat, gentlemen,’ the Von said, gesturing to his table. ‘What would you like to drink?’ Both Ian and Conan said that an English beer would be fine and von Tempsky turned to Corporal Todd to fill the order.
‘I have read a report from the army files of your military exploits, Captain Forbes,’ the Von said. ‘You would have made a fine Ranger officer.’
‘The missions called for the unusual tactics I employed,’ Ian answered. ‘I think the nature of modern war relies on the British army recognising the importance of highly trained small forces, well-armed with the appropriate weapons to engage in operations such as I have read you are conducting against the Maoris.’
‘Do you know, Captain Forbes, that my adversaries amongst the Maori warriors have given me a special name? They refer to me as manu-rau which means “many birds”. It is a grudging respect for my men and I to be in the forest and use surprise to attack them. Although the British army uses us as deep-ranging reconnaissance to locate the Maori positions, from time to time we are forced to defend ourselves, or conduct ambushes when the opportunity arises.’
‘I can see that your choice of weapons suits the dense scrub I have seen since arriving,’ Ian said. ‘The selection of your men is interesting.’
The Von looked pleased at Ian’s observations. ‘We recruit men from across the Tasman who are prepared to live under the harsh conditions of the bush. One of my small parties of men carries an Enfield that you are used to for long-range shots, while the rest are armed with both a revolver and Terry breech loader. I also attempt to have a Maori speaker in each party. My men are paid at a higher rate than their militia comrades and receive a double ration of rum at the end of a mission. But it is not the higher pay or rum that tends to bring recruits but a chance to actually get into the fight. They may appear to lack discipline but have proved to be first-class soldiers in the role they have been assigned. I even have a couple of muscular Negroes from Jamaica in my service who have proved themselves as fine fighting men. You should be able to see my men in training in the next few days, although I have heard a rumour from General Cameron’s HQ that trouble may have flared up on the coast. We may be back in action before we know it.’
‘What kind of trouble?’ Ian asked, disappointed that he and Conan had missed the action at Orakau.
‘From what I know,’ von Tempsky said, ‘there is a rather formidable pa near Tauranga Harbour. I suspect that General Cameron will not be able to resist bringing up his artillery to bombard the fortifications, and finally bring the resistance by the Maoris to an end. At least with the new Armstrongs he may be able to avoid a direct assault on the earthwork trenches, which we have found to be a death trap to men in the open.’
Although Ian had a dim view of some British tactics employed in the past, he also gave credit to this new enemy as being courageous and intelligent. This was their land of birth, and they were not about to hand it over to Queen Victoria without a fight.
‘Will your rangers be employed in any action on the coast?’ Ian asked
Captain von Tempsky frowned. ‘I am not sure. I’ve heard rumours my company may be utilised elsewhere.’
‘If that occurs, I pray that you will not be insulted if my sergeant major and I request an attachment to General Cameron’s staff to observe any actions on the coast,’ Ian said, and von Tempsky shrugged.
‘I would not be insulted, Captain Forbes,’ he said. ‘In your shoes – with the freedom you have been granted by the English authorities – I might make the same request. No doubt we will meet again in the near future. In the meantime, accommodation has been arranged for you in the camp you rode past. Corporal Todd will escort you to meet with the camp commandant and have you quartered.’
Ian thanked the former Prussian army officer, and he and Conan reported to the military HQ at Drury, where Ian was happy to run into a captain he had met years earlier in London at his club. Fortune was doubly on his side when his friend said that he could have Ian and Conan transferred to the coast to observe the upcoming action.
*
As Ella’s ship steamed into the great harbour at Sydney Town and docked at Circular Quay, the young Englishwoman was surprised by how pretty the natural environment was. Ella had organised from London to have a house purchased for her on the edge of the harbour and had been assured that the cottage came with a maid and footman, having belonged to a very wealthy member of the Sydney community who had once known her father. Levi Goldberg was at the wharf when the ship docked to meet Ella, a man in his late fifties with a crop of grey hair, spectacles and a portly build. He had many friends in Sydney society, and had made his small fortune importing and exporting goods from New South Wales to England.
‘Oy, Miss Ella,’ Levi had said as he had walked towards Ella with his arms outstretched. ‘I would recognise you anywhere. You were always a beautiful young woman, even when you were a child.’
Ella did not remember Levi but was pleased to receive his warm welcome and pleased that he instantly recognised her. ‘Mr Goldberg, I must thank you for all that we discussed in our correspondence,’ Ella said a warm smile.
‘It is the least I could do for the daughter of Ikey Solomon, may God rest his soul. Come,’ Levi said. ‘I have a carriage to convey us to your new home and I have organised for your luggage to follow us. Welcome to Sydney Town. I think you will find it is not as uncivilised as you might have been led to believe. The people here are different from those I remember from my days in England. They do not seem to care that we are Jews. All they care about is making money. But let us get you to the house and settled in.’
Ella was escorted to a fine carriage drawn by two thoroughbred horses and a driver wearing an expensive uniform and top hat. Levi assisted Ella into the open carriage as a balmy breeze and blue skies dominated the day. They travelled for a short time until they came to a flower-adorned cottage built of sandstone that overlooked the sparkling waters of the great harbour. Ella was impressed by her new colonial residence, noting the small, well-kept front garden.
‘You are home,’ Levi said.
‘It is home until I find my son,’ Ella said. ‘Then I shall return to London with him. I have purchased this house because I wish my son to be in a place that I call home as soon as I find him. He has been far from his home for too long.’
‘A pity, but your choice to purchase will pay dividends when you eventually sell this house,’ Levi said. ‘There are fortunes to be made here by enterprising people, and from what I have heard over the years, your father certainly did well to amass the fortune he did. I know that you must miss your father’s guiding hand but you are, after all, your father’s daughter.’
Ella was not sure how she should accept the compliment. After all, her father had founded his fortune on crime. She didn’t respond, entering the cottage instead where she was introduced to her footman and maid. The girl, around fourteen years old, curtsied and the footman bowed his head. Some things did not change from London society, Ella thought.
Tea and cucumber sandwiches were offered on a small patio at the rear of the two-storeyed cottage, where Levi sat with Ella. It was time to discuss Ella’s mission to the colonies.
‘I have friends within the Sydney constabulary,’ Levi said, sipping from the fine china cup. ‘They will be of great assistance in finding your son.’
‘This situation must appear strange, Mr Goldberg,’ Ella said, gazing across the waters of the harbour. ‘I have a birth certificate in my possession that names my son’s father as Captain Ian Steele who, ironically, was born in this colony.’
‘I do not judge,’ Levi said. ‘Love is a powerful force none of us are immune from.’
With a sense of relief, Ella appreciated Levi’s non-judgemental comment. ‘Indeed,’ she said, relieved to have dealt with the matter.
However, Levi asked, ‘Where is your son’s father now?’
Ella pursed her lips. ‘The last I was able to ascertain, Captain Steele is with his regiment in India.’ She pointedly changed the subject. ‘The man who took custody of Josiah should be relatively easy to locate: Professor Shortland. I am sure the colony is not big enough to have many learned academics of that name.’
‘I have some bad news,’ Levi said, placing his cup of tea on the patio table. ‘As per your request, I made some inquiries about Professor Shortland and his wife. It appears that the professor was killed in an accident and his wife immediately organised to return to England after his funeral.’
‘Did she have Josiah with her?’ Ella asked, her heart thumping with disappointment. She had travelled halfway across the world and now was learning that Josiah could be on his way back to England.
‘The good news is that it looks like she did not. It appears she just left him like an orphan to struggle on his own.’
Ella felt a flash of hatred for a woman who could simply dump a child to the mercy of a land that would be alien to him. And yet if she had not, Josiah would be at sea by now. ‘Do we have any idea where he might be?’
‘There is more good news,’ Levi said with a smile. ‘It appears he was befriended by an Irish family who own the Erin Hotel near the centre of Sydney Town. I thought that you might wish to join me to visit them. They are by all accounts an honest family and will be able to help us find Josiah. I have made arrangements for us to be taken first thing tomorrow, although I can see in your face that you would like to visit them now.’
‘I understand that you have done more than I could have ever expected and I thank you from the bottom of my heart,’ Ella said, hope brimming. ‘I will respect your advice and we will go together tomorrow to this Erin Hotel.’
‘Good,’ Levi said, rising from his chair. ‘You can use this time to make your new house a place fit for the return of Josiah. I am sure you will have much to discuss when you are both finally together.’
Levi departed and Ella stared across the harbour. Her son was so close, and she knew she would not sleep this coming night.
THIRTY
Ian and Conan gazed at the two formidable redoubts of earthworks and timber palings across the plain. Already Cameron had moved his troops up from the nearby British encampment of Te Papa and concentrated his big artillery guns in a bombardment on the Maori defences.
When Cameron observed a breach had been made in the main redoubt, the British general ordered an attack on the opening. The artillery bombardment had been ferocious and to the observers, it was impossible that any living creature could have survived. At around 4 pm an infantry regiment and naval brigade assembled into a column for the assault, advancing with fixed bayonets on the smoking ruins of the trenches.
‘Good to see the Enfield being used,’ Conan said as he watched one of the elite British units march smartly forward. Ian removed his pipe, lit it and watched the smoke curl away on a gentle breeze, feeling some pity for his enemy. Never before had he seen such a heavy bombardment on such a small area. Ian had come to admire the Maori warriors and remembered how the real Samuel Forbes had mentioned their bravery when he had encountered the warriors on the battlefield.
‘Poor sods,’ Conan said beside Ian. ‘I wonder if there are any left alive to resist.’
The British troops disappeared from sight, clambering down into the deep entrenchments and the shots and shouts of men engaged in hand-to-hand combat drifted across the plain. Conan glanced at Ian in surprise; obviously, some Maori warriors had survived the shelling.
Then, ten minutes later, both men observed a stream of British troops scrambling back to their assembly point in total panic. Many were running without their weapons, and Ian could see the shock and fear in their expressions from where he and Conan stood.
‘God almighty!’ Conan swore, and Ian instinctively reached for his revolver, as if expecting a sea of Maori warriors to follow in hot pursuit. ‘I think we should withdraw to the main body,’ Ian said, his revolver in hand. ‘It seems that the big guns were useless.’
But the retreating troops were not followed, leaving over a hundred of their comrades dead and wounded in the trenches, with few casualties on the defenders’ side. Those who had been able to report had been debriefed and the picture emerged of a total defeat. Seventeen hundred well-trained British troops had been defeated by a fraction of their number.
When Ian caught up with the captain he had known from his club in London, he could see absolute consternation written in his face.
‘What happened?’ Ian asked the shaken officer.
‘From a few reports by those who got back, they said the Maori let them enter the trenches and came out from underground tunnels to engage us at close quarters with shotguns and axes. Our troops had trouble wielding their bayonet-attached Enfields in the confinement of the earthworks. I heard that we lost nine out of ten officers in the trench fighting. How do these savages know so much about warfare?’ the captain said, trembling with frustration. ‘How are we ever going to defeat them?’
That night, the warriors in the pa quietly slipped out to assemble at another point in their well-disciplined withdrawal. The following day, it was announced that the British army had secured a victory as they took the pa.
On the same evening, Ian and Conan sat around a campfire, sharing a bottle of rum. The rest of the army camped at Te Papa and no one in the military hierarchy paid them much attention.
‘It is not going to look good for Cameron,’ Ian said, staring at the glowing coals of the fire. ‘I don’t think that they build their fortifications as a last resort. I get the feeling that they are simply well-designed killing fields. Maybe we could learn something from the Maori about entrenchment. I have a feeling it will be the future of warfare in the years to come.’
