Published: 6 Oct 2022

Toby had received correspondence from his sister Veronica which had him most amused, bringing Dev to question his jocularity.

“There was almost a war,” Toby says.

“Who with?”

“The colonies of Victoria and New South Wales.”

Dev appeared confused so Toby continued, “It appears the Echuca Company crossed the border at Moama in full uniform and carrying arms, to attend a patriotic march in building support to Briton’s developing problem with the Boers in South Africa and New South Wales thought they were being invaded.”

“Surely we are all British.”

“On the outside yes but within people’s heads we are separate countries. I’ll give you an example, if you rode a horse from Echuca across the bridge to Moama in New South Wales, you would pay a tariff for importing a horse and if you brought it back, pay again on your return. Does that seem like one people to you?”

“That’s silly,”

“I agree but people are touchy about territory especially around border areas.”

“So mid-river is the border?” Dev suggests.

“No it was decided in London all of the Murray’s water belonged to New South Wales and not centre stream or either bank as one would believe.”

“What about when the river floods?” Dev asks, believing he was adding a nonsensical slant to the debate.

“Ha, that is the quandary all water means all water, no matter who owns the land is beneath.”

“That is stupid, what if the flood water came from the south?”

“I don’t think the colonial office thought of that, I’ll give you some more examples. Only last year there was a dispute about a tree on the Echuca bank, those in Moama said it was their tree as its roots were in the water, thus it belonged to New South Wales. Also a Victorian man drowned from the southern bank but it was said once wet he was technically in New South Wales.”

“Should I repeat my opinion?” Dev commenced to laugh at the ridiculous state of affairs that had developed over a simple flow of water.

“You may and I would agree but it’s the way of things, also it was said Victorian police have been know to throw bodies into the river, so the New South Wales police would have to deal with them.”

“So back to the almost border war?”

“No war, they worked it out and allowed the troopers to march through Moama to a cheering crowd.” Toby folded away his sister’s letter, “that reminds me, I’ll off to Fort Gellibrand tomorrow, would you like to come along?”

“What is the occasion?”

“It is the half yearly testing of the Gellibrand cannon,”

“What shoot them?”

“Test them, it is to keep up skills and be sure they are in working order.”

“And do you shoot the guns?”

“Fire them – no I am a Colonel in the voluntary Artillery Corpse, I only supervise.”

“I didn’t know you were a trooper,”

“Voluntary only and don’t attend barracks often but it is my turn to do the testing. My father is an acquaintance of Major General Alexander Tulloch of the Victoria Rangers and he authorized my commission.”

Dev releases a broad evil smile.

“I could ask what that is about,” Toby curiously says.

“You could,” the grin broadens.

“Go on,”

“Do you wear a uniform?”

“I do,”

“I would like to see it,”

“If you behave yourself I may allow you to live out that fantasy you are developing.”

“Go and put it on,”

“Possibly after tea,”

Williamstown was a pleasant village eight miles west of the city, with Fort Gellibrand sited on an arm of land jutting out into Hobson Bay being part of the larger Port Phillip Bay and perfectly positioned to protect the mouth of the Yarra and the Port of Melbourne. The fort had six twelve pound BLS guns while there were twenty more protecting the narrow head of Port Phillip at two forts, Queenscliff and Nepean. With the three forts it made the approach to Melbourne one of the best protected stretches of water in the Empire, also the most remote port at what some called the arse-end of the world.

Why the need for such extensive fortifications may be asked and again quickly answered, being the remoteness of both Melbourne and Sydney and when the forts were established, the colonial bank vaults in both cities were bulging with gold, while Britain had many mid-century enemies and the two cities few inhabitants.

Sydney’s Port Jackson in particular with its fine protected harbor would be a grand prize for any country wishing to dominate the South Pacific, as Germany, France and America were all looking for new territory. It legitimized the fear when it was later discovered the French had gathered together a large fleet of men-at-war at the Isle de France and after two naval battles, the French winning the first, the British the second ending French rule on the island and renaming it Mauritius, it was discovered from captured documents that the fleet was gathering to invade Sydney.

Although there were a number of foreign threats made against British interests, in the most the inhabitants of Sydney and Melbourne went about their daily routine without much thought towards invasion and even enemy ships made visit during hostilities and were welcomed. There was one event that only became worrying after the ship had departed. In Eighteen Sixty-three a seventeen gun Russian corvette named the Bogatyr visited Sydney during the Cimmerian War. Later it was discovered they had sent a long boat south as far as Botany Bay to survey the coast, collecting the longboat after the ship departed Port Jackson.

The need for protection came strongly in the earlier gold-rush days from threat made by the expansion of the Russian Empire during the Crimean war against England and France, when it was suggested by Russia that Sydney and Melbourne could become targets. Nothing came of the threat but it did put the wind of fear into the imagination of those in the antipodes, creating an insane scramble for their own protection, as the tyranny of distance became obvious with Britain stretching its military arm globally and Europe constantly challenging her domination of the ocean.

By late century the world’s peace was like a taught length of cord, eventually it would snap. During those troubled years Victoria’s colonial navy had two ships, the HMVS Cerberus, which was the world’s first truly iron warship and forerunner of the mighty dreadnaught class but more experimental than practical and the Nelson, a 126 gun ship laid down during the Napoleonic war. It was considered neither ship would last ten minutes if challenged and worth no more than a sense of colonial pride. As for the Nelson she was well beyond usefulness when she arrived in Victoria, mostly employed as a training vessel. Some years later she was converted to a steam driven screw ship and cut down to a single deck, ending her life as a coal hulk. During the eighties Victoria did strengthen its capacity with the employment of the Batman and Fawkner with at least a dozen more second class torpedo boats being more than enough to protect the approach to Melbourne.

Fort Gellibrand was little more than a flat surface with mounted cannon and a number of stone buildings. What Dev had in mind were the magnificent structures of the British castle with their majestic stone walls towering above all adversary that were displayed in some of the books in the Nevis library. What impressed Dev most was Toby in his uniform and the power and confidence he swayed over his troopers. Toby had kept his promise the previous night and paraded for Dev in his uniform but here before his men giving orders he was the epitome of power, unlike the previous night when Dev held direction of the fantasy.

With each shouted demand sexual excitement surged in Dev, rising through his youthful sap bringing on an urge so strong he almost involuntary ejaculated. He took a deep breath to ward away his closeness as Toby gave the order to fire.

Boom, went the first gun.

The discharge shook the ground and echoed across the short expanse of Hobsons Bay bring those within the port to attention as they gazed in wonderment out to sea and the direction of the noise, others imagined the old adage, the Russians are coming, the Russians are coming but casting their gaze seawards the wide bay remained void of any enemy ships.

“Fire number two,” Toby commanded.

Boom went the second, the force vibrating through Dev’s body as the ground shook beneath his feet.

Boom, went the third,

The fourth fired with equal gusto.

The fifth,

And at last the sixth, as it sounded Dev released his building frustration and quickly moved aside.

“Ow’ shit,” he growled as he moved away for scrutiny.

“Stand down,” Toby ordered and approached Dev.

“You look flustered, are you alright?” Toby asked.

“You wouldn’t believe me,” Dev quietly answered.

“What did you think of the firing?” Toby asked.

“I’d hate to be on the receiving of it all. Have they ever fired on a ship?”

“Almost once but I am told that was a long time ago,” Toby explains.

“What the Russians?”

“Believe it or not the Americans, or more to point the Southern Confederacy. It was a Confederate ship the CSS Shenandoah, she was here at Williamstown after raiding Yankee ships across the pacific coming in for repairs,” Toby paused his story to finish his duties then after some time he returned to explain the visit of the Shenandoah.

It appeared at the time Melbourne being so far removed from world events wasn’t certain if Britain was at war, or if she backed the Northern States or the Confederacy, as southern cotton was in demand for Britain’s many mills. Added to this uncertainty was the Northern States had aligned with Russia against any interference from Britain and the American Consul for Victoria William Blanchard ordered the colonial government to impound the Shenandoah.

After the ship’s captain illegally recruited at least forty men from the port, being against the colony’s protocol towards neutrality, she was surrounded by police and troopers and Fort Gellibrand was put on alert but when it was suggested the ship’s cannon may be trained on the port, the fort decided such an encounter wasn’t worth the powder and the Confederate raider was permitted to depart. In doing so she went with the local sailors who lined Shenandoah’s decks defiantly waving to those gathered to view the departure.

“Are you working Wednesday?” Toby asked as the last of the gunners had departed for their barracks.

“I should think so,”

“If you like I will have a word with your supervisor and you can travel with me to Queenscliff as I will need to repeat the procedure there.”

“I would like that,”

While returning home through the city Dev again had a feeling someone was paying him more attention than natural from some distance ahead along Flinders Street. Almost immediately he recognized the stranger to be Tom Hadley but he had lost his usual dapper appearance, if anything he could be considered vagrant. Hadley appeared to stare as Dev as he approached.

“Kid,” Hadley growled and allowed passage without further comment, possibly seeing Toby in uniform deferred him from further confrontation.

Dev turned to face Hadley but didn’t reply.

“You know Mr. Hadley?” Toby asked once they had passed by.

“Not as such,” Dev answered while believing Toby’s choice of expression appeared strange, as he didn’t ask if he knew the man but more suggested that Dev knew him.

“You know I was in a push,” Dev nervously admitted.

“You told me so,”

“We were but kids and -”

“Dev you don’t have to explain yourself,”

“But I must, Mr. Hadley is from the North Melbourne push and took over after the murder of their leader Stan Bryce,”

“Yes I know of that case,”

Again Toby’s choice of words was confusing, declaring the murder to be a case and not an incident.

“We were half starved kids and picked a few pockets to survive and Bryce often confronted us and used Hadley to do the dirty work. Just before he was murdered Bryce attempted to recruit me as a cocky but I refused.”

“As well you did but have you had contact with any of that lot since?”

“Not at all, I have seen one his bloke’s named Bolt around town and at one time I believe I was being followed but no and I don’t want anything to do with that part of my past and most of all anyone from Hadley’s mob.”

“Then Dev I should be frank with you,” Toby draws towards serious.

“In what way would that be?”

“You have met a policeman named O’Keefe?”

“Yes he interviewed me at home after returning from Echuca,”

“He is concerned for your safety,” Toby quietly warns.

“Do you know O’Keefe?” Dev asks.

“He is also another acquaintance of my father,” Toby admits.

“Oh,”

“O’Keefe has heard a whisper that someone in the Firm has it in for you and may do you harm.”

“You are scaring me Toby,” Dev gasps as a deeper panic rises followed by further concern. Had Toby only befriended him to discover more about the Firm? Was he working for the police and was their relationship nothing but a sham? At that moment he felt more alone than ever before in his nineteen years of life. His mind was in fight of flight and all he could think about was running to find his brother, or maybe Jones for the comfort of their honesty. Dev froze to the walkway outside Ball and Welch; his gaze towards Toby but fixed far beyond towards the embankment, beyond the river and lost in the haze of the late afternoon.

“Devon,” Toby spoke in a worrying tone.

“Only my mother called me Devon,” he whispered, his voice failing in his chest without finding strength to rise.

“Dev, what are you thinking?”

“You Toby; is our relationship nothing but an excuse to find out more about the Firm. I promise you I know nothing – nothing.”

“Never,”

“Then what – how?”

“All that came later when I was at the club and chanced to meet Mr. O’Keefe and he was sharing information about the Firm. What I feel for you has nothing to do with your past. I see the future in you, I see how you have changed and have made something of your life. Yes I may have helped you along the way but it was you yourself who did the work.”

Dev heard Toby’s explanation but remained uncertain.

“Honestly Dev could I have falsely shared my body with you for information, do you really believe me capable of such a deception?”

“No,”

“Then don’t concern others will keep you safe,”

“Who has it in for me and why?”

“Mr. O’Keefe believes it to be Hadley, the man who just passed by but he has become erratic and it is thought he will break soon.”

“Do the police believe he killed Stan Bryce?” Dev asks.

“They are almost certain he did to take control but proving his guilt is a little difficult, even with another in the Firm giving the police information.”

A sigh, a few steps along the walkway and Dev turns back to speak to Toby, “I thought I was well away from all that.”

“And so you are,”

“What about us?”

“If you want there will always be us,”

“I like that Toby. I really do but that scares me even more than what Hadley or the others may do.”

“Why is that so?”

“I am street and you are establishment and that can’t be changed.”

Toby commences to laugh he catches up with Dev and with a touch to his back encourages him to continue on.

“Isn’t that so,” Dev says.

“In some ways it is those who are without who are the strongest towards class.”

“I didn’t mean to be insulting,” Dev assures.

“And I didn’t take it as such.”

A few more steps and Toby pauses Dev by a gently hold to his arm, “I think I told you some time back that my family came from nothing, from Cheapside in London but my great-great grandfather had the ability to make money and hold onto it. At first the family wasn’t accepted but eventually money speaks louder than blood and they rubbed shoulders with society even with royalty.”

“Yes you did say,”

“Then believe me when I say I am not my family, as I had said I was raised in the bush mostly by my sister, as for the big house in Jolimont it belongs to my father and will never be mine but my older brothers’, I am but the caretaker and you already know that. Yes I am a man of means obviously with a little family influence but in the main by my own undertaking.”

“I feel as if I have hurt you deeply,” Dev says.

“Not at all yet I feel I must say something now and here and I don’t want you to answer only think on it.”

Both pause for a moment.

“I am receptive,” Dev admits.

Toby can but smile as he was always impressed with Dev’s use of language.

“Dev I love you more dearly than you can imagine.”

Dev parts his lips to speak.

“No Dev I do not want you to answer; not here and now.”

Gary’s stories are about life for gay men in Australia’s past and present. Your emails to him are the only payment he receives. Email Gary to let him know you are reading: Gary dot Conder at CastleRoland dot Net

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