English Passengers

by KNEALE, MATTHEW

• ISBN13: 9780385497442
• ISBN10: 038549744X
• Edition: Reprint
• Format: Trade Paper
• Copyright: 2001-01-16
• Publisher: Anchor

Summary

In 1857 when Captain Illiam Quillian Kewley and his band of rum smugglers from the Isle of Man have most of their contraband confiscated by British Customs, they are forced to put their ship up for charter. The only takers are two eccentric Englishmen who want to embark for the other side of the globe. The Reverend Geoffrey Wilson believes the Garden of Eden was on the island of Tasmania. His traveling partner, Dr. Thomas Potter, unbeknownst to Wilson, is developing a sinister thesis about the races of men. Meanwhile, an aboriginal in Tasmania named Peevay recounts his people's struggles against the invading British, a story that begins in 1824, moves into the present with approach of the English passengers in 1857, and extends into the future in 1870. These characters and many others come together in a storm of voices that vividly bring a past age to life.

Author Biography

<b>Matthew Kneale</b>, the author of several novels, lives in Italy. <b>English Passengers</b> is his American debut.

Table of Contents

Chapter One	3	(46)
Captain Illiam Quillian Kewley	3	(13)
The Reverend Geoffrey Wilson	16	(15)
Captain Illiam Quillian Kewley	31	(9)
The Reverend Geoffrey Wilson	40	(6)
Chapter Two	46	(33)
Jack Harp	46	(3)
Peevay	49	(12)
George Baines, Employee of the New World Land Company	61	(14)
Peevay	75	(4)
Chapter Three	79	(10)
Captain Illiam Quillian Kewley	79	(10)
Chapter Four	89	(16)
Jack Harp	89	(1)
Peevay	90	(6)
Sir Charles Moray, Secretary for Colonies, London, to George Alder, Governor of Van Diemen's Land	96	(1)
George Alder, Governor of Van Diemen's Land, to Sir Charles Moray, Secretary for Colonies, London	97	(2)
Peevay	99	(6)
Chapter Five	105	(22)
Captain Illiam Quillian Kewley	105	(2)
The Reverend Geoffrey Wilson	107	(8)
Dr. Thomas Potter	115	(1)
Timothy Renshaw	116	(11)
Chapter Six	127	(24)
John Harris, Van Diemen's Land Settler and Landowner	127	(2)
George Alder, Governor of Van Diemen's Land, to Mr. Smithson of the Prison Committee of the Society of Friends, London	129	(3)
Jack Harp	132	(2)
Ben Hayes, Van Diemen's Land Farmer	134	(3)
Peevay	137	(4)
Ben Hayes, Van Diemen's Land Farmer	141	(2)
George Alder, Governor of Van Diemen's Land	143	(2)
Peevay	145	(6)
Chapter Seven	151	(24)
Timothy Renshaw	151	(9)
The Reverend Geoffrey Wilson	160	(3)
Dr. Thomas Potter	163	(1)
Captain Illiam Quillian Kewley	164	(7)
The Reverend Geoffrey Wilson	171	(4)
Chapter Eight	175	(22)
Nathaniel Stebbings, Bristol Schoolmaster, to John Harris, Van Diemen's Land Settler and Landowner	175	(2)
Jack Harp	177	(8)
Julius Crane, Visiting Inspector of the London Prison Committee	185	(10)
Jack Harp	195	(2)
Chapter Nine	197	(21)
Dr. Thomas Potter	197	(2)
Captain Illiam Quillian Kewley	199	(15)
The Reverend Geoffrey Wilson	214	(4)
Chapter Ten	218	(53)
Peevay	218	(12)
Mrs. Catherine Price	230	(17)
Peevay	247	(6)
William Frampton, Governor of Van Diemen's Land	253	(12)
Peevay	265	(6)
Chapter Eleven	271	(26)
Dr. Thomas Potter	271	(1)
Captain Illiam Quillian Kewley	272	(3)
The Reverend Geoffrey Wilson	275	(4)
Timothy Renshaw	279	(4)
Captain Illiam Quillian Kewley	283	(4)
Timothy Renshaw	287	(10)
Chapter Twelve	297	(40)
Superintendent Eldridge of the Oyster Cove Aboriginal Settlement to Gerald Denton, Governor of Tasmania	297	(2)
Pagerly	299	(2)
Mrs. Gerald Denton, Wife of the Governor of Tasmania	301	(3)
The Reverend Geoffrey Wilson	304	(7)
Peevay	311	(6)
Mrs. Gerald Denton, Wife of the Governor of Tasmania	317	(4)
Mrs. Emily Seaton	321	(6)
Colonial Times	327	(2)
Dr. Thomas Potter	329	(1)
Peevay	330	(6)
Dr. Thomas Potter	336	(1)
Chapter Thirteen	337	(51)
The Reverend Geoffrey Wilson	337	(4)
Peevay	341	(2)
Dr. Thomas Potter	343	(2)
The Reverend Geoffrey Wilson	345	(15)
Dr. Thomas Potter	360	(1)
Timothy Renshaw	360	(4)
Dr. Thomas Potter	364	(5)
The Reverend Geoffrey Wilson	369	(2)
Dr. Thomas Potter	371	(3)
Captain Illiam Quillian Kewley	374	(5)
Dr. Thomas Potter	379	(1)
Peevay	380	(2)
The Reverend Geoffrey Wilson	382	(1)
Dr. Thomas Potter	383	(3)
Peevay	386	(2)
Chapter Fourteen	388	(40)
Timothy Renshaw	388	(3)
Dr. Thomas Potter	391	(3)
Captain Illiam Quillian Kewley	394	(6)
Dr. Thomas Potter	400	(3)
Peevay	403	(2)
Captain Illiam Quillian Kewley	405	(6)
The Reverend Geoffrey Wilson	411	(1)
Dr. Thomas Potter	411	(2)
Captain Illiam Quillian Kewley	413	(15)
Chapter Fifteen	428	(11)
Timothy Renshaw	428	(3)
Mr. P. T. Windrush: Wonders of the Isle of Wight (excerpt)	431	(1)
Peevay	432	(2)
Captain Illiam Quillian Kewley	434	(5)
Epilogue	439	(4)
The Anglo-Manx Dialect	443	(4)
Acknowledgements	447

Excerpts

Say a man catches a bullet through his skull in somebody's war, so where's the beginning of that? You might say that's easy. That little moment has its start the day our hero goes marching off to fight with his new soldier friends, all clever and smirking and waving at the girls. But does it, though? Why not the moment he first takes the shilling, his mouth hanging wide open like a harvest frog as he listens to the sergeant's flatterings? Or how about that bright sunny morning when he's just turned six and sees soldiers striding down the village street, fierce and jangling? But then why not go right back, all the way, to that long, still night when a little baby is born, staring and new, with tiniest little hands? Hands you'd never think would grow strong enough one day to lift a heavy gun, and put a bullet through our poor dead friend's brain.
If I had to choose a beginning for all these little curiosities that have been happening themselves at me, well, I'd probably pick that morning when we were journeying northwards from a certain discreet French port, where tobacco and brandy were as cheap as could be. Not that it seemed much like the beginning of anything at the time, but almost the end, or so I was hoping. The wind was steady, the ship was taking her weather nicely, and as we went about our work I dare say every man aboard was having a fine time dreaming money he hadn't yet got, and what pleasures it might buy him. Some will have been spending it faster than a piss over the side, dreaming themselves a rush of drink and smoke, then perhaps a loan of a sulky female's body. A few might have dreamed every penny on a new jacket or boots, to dazzle Peel City with fashion for a day or two. Others would have kept cautious, dreaming it on rent paid and wives quieted.
And Illiam Quillian Kewley?
As the Sincerity jumped and juddered with the waves I was dreaming Castle Street on a Saturday morning, all bustle and everyone scrutineering everyone else, with Ealisad walking at my side in a fine new dress, both of us holding our heads high as Lords, and nobody saying, "Look see, there's Kewleys--don't you know they used to be somebody." Or I dreamed my great-grandfather, Juan, who I never met, but who was known as Big Kewley on account of being the only Kewley ever to make money rather than lose it. There he was, clear as day, leaning out of heaven with a telescope, and calling out in a voice loud as thunder, "Put a sight on him, Illiam Quillian, my own great-grandson. Now there's a man who can."
Then all of a sudden our dreamings were interrupted. Tom Teare was calling down from the masthead, where he was keeping watch. "Sail. Sail to the northwest."
Not that anyone thought much on his shout then. The English Channel is hardly the quietest stretch of ocean, so there seemed nothing too worrying in discovering another ship creeping along. The boys went on scrubbing down the deck, while chief mate Brew and myself carried on standing on the quarterdeck, making sure they kept at it.
But you should know a little about the Sincerity, as there was a wonder all made of wood if ever there was one. Truly, you couldn't imagine a vessel that looked more normal from the outside. I dare say she was a little old--her prow was round and blunt and well out of fashion, and her quarterdeck was too high for modern tastes--but other-wise she seemed as ordinary as seawater. I'd wager you could've spent all day aboard and still been none the wiser. Unless, that is, you had a particular eye for the measure of things. Or you happened to take a look above the inside top rim of the door to the pantry.
And that would be hardly likely.

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Excerpted from English Passengers: A Novel by Matthew Kneale
All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.