A time line as in "1500 CE: Such and such happened in Gunnagal and so and so was crowned King of Tjibarr", Starting with the first farmers.
Lands of Red and Gold, Act II
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Lands of Red and Gold #118: Much Ado About Everything
Lands of Red and Gold #118: Much Ado About Everything
“I would my horse had the speed of your tongue.”
- William Shakespeare, Much Ado About Nothing
* * *
18 November 1716
Yigutji [Wagga Wagga], Kingdom of Yigutji
When in public, Puckapunyal – King of Yigutji, Lord of Summer, Eagle of Heaven, Master of the Land, Son of the Sun – had always insisted on appropriate ceremony, dignity, and attire. Tradition expected it, and his own instincts demanded it. Such things were part of what separated civilised states from barbarians. His kingdom remained the heir to the best traditions of long-vanished Watjubaga. The old Empire had fallen, and deserved it for many reasons, but some parts of it were worth preserving, including its etiquette and recognition of proper behaviour for men of breeding.
When in private, he allowed more latitude. For those who had enough wit to distinguish between private behaviour and what should be demonstrated in public, at least. Anyone who presumed on private familiarity to display the same in public would be given one firm lesson on the dangers of transgression. If they required a second lesson, they would no longer need to learn anything again afterward, ever.
For today, he needed to consider how best to manage the diplomacy involved with the growing threat of Tjuwagga and the Horse-Men, who in a handful of years had emerged as a scourge. So he had gathered some of his highest officials to seek their advice.
The king said, “King Guwariyan of Tjibarr has answered my enquiry about common action in case the Horse-Men invade the Patjimunra. He replied on clay.”
A sign of great formality, that. Where clay had once been commonplace for writing, now the pulp and paper mills that had sprung up throughout the Five Rivers meant that paper had become the medium of choice. Only binding contracts between individuals, or treaties between states, were usually still inscribed in clay. Replying in clay meant, in effect, that Tjibarr had conveyed a position which it would not change.
“Their king states that the terms of our alliance are that if one of the three kingdoms is attacked, all will come to its defence. He says that Tjibarr will always honour that alliance. But that the treaty has no relation to events outside of the Five Rivers. He says that if Tjuwagga wants to invade Murrginhi, let him, and that every Horse-Man who dies in the east is one less to invade the Five Rivers.”
“Pah! Never trust a Gunnagal!” declared the Lord of Winter [1]. “Already some of their soldiers have defected to the barbarians.”
The Sunbearer [2] said, “Some who think that this Tjuwagga will win, and so have joined him first in a bid to gain prominence later. Unfortunate, but who can blame them, given his success so far?”
The Clawmaster [3] said, “Tjibarr is disunited, as is normal. If some of them oppose intervening in Murrginhi, then others will support it. Such is their contrariness. I have received another letter from Gurragang of the Whites, stating that if we send some men to Murrginhi, then volunteers from the factionaries of Whites, Blacks and Golds may accompany us.”
“I did not know of this,” the king said, his soft words a warning to those who paid attention.
“The letter arrived only this morning, Your Majesty,” the Clawmaster said calmly. “I had not yet had time to inform you of its arrival. Naturally, the Tjibarri factions could not write directly to you if their king had sent a formal letter with a contrary message.”
“Very well,” Puckapunyal said. The Clawmaster was very good at managing the royal revenues even in troubled times, and so such tardiness could be forgiven. In any event, most likely he had just been waiting for an opportunity to embarrass rival officials. “Tell me, then, would sending troops to Murrginhi be worthwhile if Tjibarr may send a few?”
The Lord of Winter said, “A few, yes, if it will stiffen the spines of the Patjimunra. I would hesitate to send too many troops there, lest we risk losing them, but if it makes the Horse-Men bleed more or the fight more bitter, that is all to the good.”
The Clawmaster said, “What if the Horse-Men decide to attack us instead, or mount major raids even while they invade Murrginhi?”
The Sunbearer said, “That bears on the number of troops which we should decide to send, but I am reasonably sure that the Horse-Men will attack the Sunrise Lands first. Tjuwagga cares much for spices, by all reports.”
This discussion has become of less merit since the Clawmaster revealed Tjibarri factional policy. No doubt King Guwariyan knew unofficially about the offer, too; part of the usual balancing routine required by Tjibarri politics. Not for the first time, Puckapunyal was grateful that his forebears had prevented the factions from establishing themselves in Yigutji. “Matters of soldier numbers may be discussed with the Lord of Winter and my generals. I have one further question for you: given this, should we invite Gutjanal to take part as well?”
“Any troops would be useful, but I doubt that they could be persuaded,” the Clawmaster said. “Horse-Men raids do not reach them, and they are far more concerned about Yadji and highlanders than intervening in the spicelands.”
The Lord of Winter shook his head in assent. “Trust Gutjanal to stand alongside us when the Horse-Men come to our borders in strength, yes. I would not trust them with anything else.”
“So be it,” the king said.
* * *
Weemiraga's Day, Cycle of the Sun, 12th Year of His Majesty Khurruba the Second / 19 December 1716
Gutjanal [Albury, NSW], Kingdom of Gutjanal
Khurruba, second of that name, king of Gutjanal by the favour of the Green Lady [4] and by the election of the Council of Elders, had long learned that when faced with a difficult decision, it was best to discuss a much simpler decision in a different place, while letting the back of his mind [subconscious] work out a solution.
So, given that he faced a difficult choice of diplomacy, he had opted to get away from the palace and the endless manoeuvring of the royal household. Instead, he had come to the porcelain works. Strictly speaking these were part of the royal household too, but he could come here with only a small retinue of a dozen guards, a handful of close advisers, a few servants and his current favoured concubine. Here, the decisions he would be asked to make were merely about aesthetics and preferences in porcelain.
The Durrgim [porcelain works] had been built a short distance outside of the city’s walls. Or, rather, the nearest part of the Durrgim. The core of the complex was ancient, a cluster of ceramics workshops which had been built close to the river to take advantage of easy transportation and the rich deposits of potters’ stone [kaolin]. Since Yamani had discovered the secrets of manufacturing porcelain, the Durrgim had expanded. New, much larger kilns had been built into the hills behind, where the natural slope allowed them to fire greater quantities of porcelain at once. More craftsmen had come, then glazers, then painters, and other workers, until the Durrgim was now virtually a small town unto itself.
Khurruba entered the fringes of the Durrgim, two guards walking ahead of him, two either side of him, with the rest of the guards and his retinue following behind. Everyone he passed in the roadway went down on one knee with their heads lowered as he passed. He registered their gestures of respect only as background; his thoughts were elsewhere.
Matters of state pressed for his decision. Yigutji had requested that he send troops to support distant Murrginhi, which was reportedly under threat by the even more distant Horse-Men and their remarkable warleader. Tjibarr had already declined the invitation, and then agreed to send some unofficial soldiers anyway; such was the Gunnagal way.
Should I send soldiers to a place so far away, where they risk privation and death to stop a foe who may never reach Gutjanal’s borders? The Horse-Men had long raided the fringes of Tjibarri and Yigutjian territory, but never crossed into his realm. His kingdom had other threats, current and potential. Not least of which were Tjibarr and Yigutji, the two nations who currently shielded Gutjanal from the Horse-Men but who might one day pose a danger themselves.
His musings did not yet find answers, but they kept his thoughts occupied while his feet brought him into the heart of the Durrgim. Here was the greatest place of manufacture of porcelain outside of Cathay and China. The only place which had deduced the secret; Nhippon [Japan] and Corea had learned how to make porcelain from Cathay, while the Raw Men had tried to learn and failed. Only Gutjanal had succeeded.
He reached the largest workshop in the Durrgim. The greatest of the three workshops which were under royal control; the long thin shape of its kiln stretched up the slope behind it. Many private workshops and supporting crafts had sprung up around the great three, and they could still be required to produce royal porcelain at need, but these three produced only what was approved by royal order. Porcelain for the royal household itself, for gifts for Elders or elsewhere in the realm, or for gifts or trade to Tjibarr, Yigutji, the Yadji, or the broader world.
A collection of the craftsmen and craftswomen awaited him outside of the workshop. Word of his arrival had spread ahead of him, as could be expected. All of them went down on one knee with their heads lowered, with the exception of one short, large-nosed man who simply lowered his head. The Master of the Clay.
This man held a royal appointment, the newest grand title of the royal household. He was only the second man to hold this title, after Yamani himself, the discoverer of the secret of manufacturing porcelain. Many people had made fine pottery here for generations. But only with the grand secret of porcelain was the chief potter elevated to become part of the royal household, with all of the status and security which came with it [5].
The Master raised his head as the king approached; another mark of his status. The king gestured absently for the others to rise. “Let all except the Master of the Clay resume their duties. I wish to observe and discuss, not interrupt.”
The assembled workers returned to their tasks at speed, whether out of a good sense of duty or an even better sense of what was a royal command. Only the Master remained with the king and his retinue.
“Does Your Majesty desire to see any particular parts of the workshop?”
“Let me see the new samples that have been prepared,” Khurruba said. The Master lowered his head for a moment, then led the way around the side of the workshop, rather than the main doors, to a smaller room which had been built jutting out from the main wall of the workshop.
Inside the sample room, an array of ceramic glory awaited him: plates, bowls, vases, jugs and other wares. No two were the same; each had been produced as samples for testing and confirmation before the full sets were fired. Each had some white in them somewhere, to show the true translucent qualities of porcelain, but other than that they were each distinct.
Green and white hues predominated amongst the wares prepared for within the kingdom. Some of that was ordered for use within his own palace. Much of it was for royal gifts, usually to one Elder or another. The Elders needed to be kept onside, now more than ever. They had always been a potential source of trouble. More than one had led revolts during the Great Dying. Now, with an unexpected danger looming over his kingdom, he needed to keep the Elders viewing him favourably, lest any think to side with the enemies of the realm.
Normally, he would have expected the rest of the green and white-hued samples to be for royal-endorsed requests from within the kingdom; those who had been favoured with permission to order from the royal workshops, the finest producers of porcelain. But there were too many of them for that.
“Why so many samples with these colours?” he asked, gesturing vaguely to the nearest group of green-and-white porcelain bowls.
“For the kings of Waikato and Te Arawa in Aotearoa.”
“Ah.” He had known that porcelain was being prepared for those kings, of course, because he had granted permission for orders to be made. But he had not expected two Māori monarchs to be so civilized, not to mention wealthy, to order so many different items of porcelain.
He was content to let Māori order what porcelain they wished. Unlike the nearer neighbours, they posed no threat to his kingdom. For Gutjanal had always been a nation surrounded by enemies. Yigutji to the north, Tjibarr to the west, the Yadji to the south, and the Hill-Men to the east. His forefathers had kept their thrones by knowing which of those enemies to fight and which to placate.
Other nations were more fortunate. Tjibarr and Yigutji had not possessed major enemies on many of their borders, while the Yadji had the sea as their longest border. With the rise of the Horse-Men, now Yigutji and Tjibarr had learned the same truth which had long governed the reigns of the kings of Gutjanal.
He had to decide how best to ensure the survival and prosperity of his kingdom in these ever more turbulent times. Porcelain formed one small part of the endeavour; it was a source of wealth, and also a source of improved relations for diplomacy with his neighbours.
Blue and white hues predominated amongst the porcelain which had been ordered by the Raw Men or from the Attamandj [Ottomans]. The Raw Men had long craved porcelain, and since they did not know how to make it themselves, had relied on China and Cathay. With those two nations now engaged in war, the supply of porcelain had been disrupted, leading to ever-growing orders from the Raw Men. He was glad to see that trade flourish; keeping the Raw Men happy and his own kingdom wealthy were both useful accomplishments. The largest of those orders, as he knew from an earlier visit, was for James II of England, that grand old monarch with whom Khurruba had maintained occasional correspondence over the years.
For the remainder of the samples, there was no clear dominating pattern of colours. That multi-hued assemblage contained its own message: most of it had been prepared for Tjibarr. The factions which ruled that downriver kingdom each preferred their own colours, and were wealthy enough to order large quantities of porcelain to match their tastes.
And a very fortunate thing that they desire porcelain. Too much needed to be bought from Tjibarr. The Tjibarri produced much of their own, and they were the conduit for virtually everything traded by the Raw Men. Most importantly in these troubled times, the Tjibarri produced muskets, and supplied the saltpetre and brimstone needed to fuel the weapons. Gutjanal made some muskets of its own, but could perhaps make more at need, but that was expensive. The brimstone and saltpetre were even more difficult to obtain within his kingdom’s borders.
Porcelain did not make up for the value of all of what needed to be bought from the Tjibarri, but it was a significant contribution. It also helped to keep the Tjibarri factions friendly; a precious benefit at any time, but particularly now that danger threatened.
“Are all of these colourful designs for Tjibarr?” he asked.
“Mostly, save for those few there, which are for Yigutji.” The Master indicated a small number of vases which had been coloured scarlet and white.
A smaller quantity of porcelain than would previously have been common for Yigutji. Its own reminder, that. Yigutji grew increasingly concerned about the northern threat, and focused its resources there rather than on other goods, including porcelain.
Which merely means I still need to decide. Support Yigutji in its endeavour, or stand aside and weaken the bonds of our alliance? Yigutji wanted to send soldiers to support Murrginhi, against the expected invasion there. A long way distant, and not even complete certainty that they would be needed. But it was true that Tjuwagga and his Horse-Men would need to be dealt with, one way or another.
Khurruba did not see any samples intended for Durigal. The Yadji imported some porcelain at times, usually with simplistic designs. But that empire, too, was going through troubles of its own. Some rumours said that they planned war across the Narrow Sea [Bass Strait], others that they were likely to war amongst themselves. Either possibility would be desirable; anything which kept their armies too busy to trouble Gutjanal was excellent.
A brief thought occurred to him. “Has Tiyanjara [6] sent any agents to commission porcelain?”
The Master shrugged. “Not since the last enquiry Your Majesty will recall, about two years ago. They ordered nothing then, and have not returned since.”
Unfortunate. Tiyanjara had been a tantalising hope for his royal predecessors since it was formed. A new state, defiant toward the Yadji it had broken away from, and which offered an alternative route for trade if Tjibarr grew hostile. Yet despite many dances of diplomacy and endeavours, nothing much had come of it. The excuses for roads which crossed the peaks between Gutjanal and Tiyanjara made trade all but impossible, and the Kurnawal in that kingdom looked more to the sea and the Raw Men than to other powers.
None of which had stopped him sending gifts of porcelain to Tiyanjara. He had sent gifts of porcelain to every nearby nation with a ruler worthy of the name. He would even have sent a gift of porcelain to this Tjuwagga of the Horse-Men, except that it sounded as if he never stepped down from his horse long enough to appreciate it. Porcelain had many admirable qualities, but few of those could be discerned from horseback.
“Does Your Majesty wish to see any new designs?”
“In a moment,” Khurruba said. Tjuwagga was coming to the Five Rivers, if he was not defeated first. Yigutji was unlikely to send sufficient soldiers to defeat Tjuwagga in Murrginhi, even if defeat was possible at all. Yigutji would look to the security of its own realm first, and send only soldiers it could spare.
And so I, too, must maintain the security of my realm. He would send some soldiers to Yigutji itself if it were invaded, and likewise to Tjibarr, but the bulk he would keep here. There was no other way to secure his own kingdom.
That was the only answer he could give to Yigutji: do what they wished in Murrginhi, but Gutjanal would have no part of it.
* * *
Weemiraga's Day, Cycle of Wind, Year of the Ambitious Serpent (Patjimunra calendar) or Year of the Heir 566 (Tjarrlinghi calendar) / 26 September 1717
North of Gunneroi [Dungog, NSW], Kingdom of the Skin
A long column of cavalry snaked down the slope, on ground which was fortunately dry. They rode on an old trading path, which was little more than a track between trees, but sufficient to move in single file [7]. The outriders ahead would warn them of any ambushes. Not that these Patjimunra were likely to try anything so bold.
Jowarra rode at the head of the main column. His gaze barely took in the path ahead of him. Not that he needed too; his horse was perfectly capable of picking a route down the hill. His thoughts were focused inward.
At last, back to the real campaign. For too long, he had been in far-off Tjibarr, raiding along the Anedeli. A bid to keep the River-Men from intervening here. After the first couple of skirmishes, though, they found that the Tjibarri had been warned. Messages travelled by water faster than a horse could ride, and the enemies withdrew into towns or deployed soldiers in numbers too great to risk attacking.
Since then, his warband found some small pickings attacking isolated farms, but no plunder worthy of the name. Nothing which would win his name honour, while the other Warego [heroes / senior commanders] rode with the Hunter in conquest. They had advanced south from Daluming, capturing Narranuk from the Nedlandj [8], subduing some lesser chiefs, conquering wealthy Weenurundi [9], and then invaded Murrginhi.
Eventually, the Tjibarri had deployed enough troops, including some cavalry, to threaten him if he advanced further. He deemed what he had done as sufficient fulfilment of his orders to distract the Tjibarri, and returned to Dominion territory. Fortunately, the Hunter then sent instructions for him to join the Yaluma. Unfortunately, he was being sent to a minor town, not to join the main armies.
After a time, the path changed from a descent down tree-clad slopes into flatter, more open country. There, a contingent of cavalry awaited them, neatly lined up in rows. Four hundred or more riders. The banner could be easily recognised even from this distance: a golden hand, palm showing, on a blue background.
The Harmony Battalion. Which in turn meant Malligo, his least favourite of all the Warego.
Indeed, Malligo waited out the front of his battalion. This time, no interpreter waited beside him. Had the man’s Yalatji improved enough that he could now communicate without one? Or, more likely, leading a battalion itself composed of former River-Men, he did not need to communicate in any other language.
“Welcome to Murrginhi, honoured Jowarra,” Malligo said.
“Thank you,” Jowarra said. “It is good to be part of the Yaluma again.”
“The road to Gunneroi lies that way,” Malligo said, gesturing to the south. “Would you prefer to have your warband in the van, or mine?”
“Your men have more recent knowledge of this land. Let them ride first.”
“As you wish. Shall we ride between them so we can talk? I was pleased when the Hunter ordered you here, because it affords me more opportunity for discussion with the most experienced of the Warego.”
Jowarra gave the River-Man a glance at that, but he sounded entirely sincere. “So be it.”
They both paused to bark orders to their warbands, who assembled into march.
Soon enough, they rode in the midst of the advancing army. Jowarra said, “How fares the Yaluma thus far?”
Malligo shrugged. “Well enough. These Patjimunra prefer to retreat behind walls than fight in open battle, so much has been raiding and occasional sorties by them, when they feel confident. Torimi [Salamander Bay] fell first, Wonnhuar [Raymond Terrace] second, and Gogarra [Newcastle] and Kinhung [Maitland] are besieged, while our raiders have struck throughout the Kuyal [Hunter Valley].”
He is fluent in Yalatji. He learns fast, indeed. “And our role?”
“Gunneroi commands one of the two best routes south into the Kuyal, and we need to move supplies and men through this way. The town has not yet fallen. We need to keep the Patjimunra sealed up in there, so they cannot make mischief.”
Surely the Hunter has not recalled me here just to sit on the fringe. “The western roads are not clear?”
“Not safely. There are a few Yigutjians fighting here in the Kuyal, and two of the forts over the western roads still hold out. You chose the best route to come here.”
“So are we to sit here penning up the Patjimunra, doing nothing else?”
“Alone, my warband could not capture Gunneroi. Perhaps with yours, we can. That decision will be yours. You have more experience of these matters than I.”
Jowarra gave him another glance. Again, Malligo sounded entirely sincere. I do not like someone of his inexperience being made a Warego, but at least he has the wit to know his limits. “I will need to see and hear more before I make that judgement.”
“You may ask whatever you wish of me or my soldiers to assist in that decision, and it will be answered.”
“Naturally.” Jowarra paused a moment. “Your soldiers, you say?”
“Of course.”
His soldiers, or the Hunter’s soldiers that he commands? The Hunter regularly rotated Warego between warbands, so that the men could learn from many commanders, and gain understanding from many men of vision. For reasons known only to himself, Tjuwagga had exempted the Harmony Battalion from this policy.
“Has the Hunter said whether you will serve all of this Yaluma leading the Harmony Battalion, or will you serve elsewhere?”
Malligo said, “We discussed that when the Battalion was first formed. I argued that it would be best for me to remain in command. He agreed.”
“Why?”
Malligo grinned. “Many reasons. Some are straightforward, some less obvious. The men here all speak a language which few other Warego can manage. Communications are much easier if they can understand me. They also fight in the Tjibarri manner, with which I am more familiar than the other Warego.”
“Those are the obvious reasons. What about the rest?”
Malligo looked around, as if making sure that none of his men were close enough to overhear. None were. “These men are Gunnagal. Most Gunnagal think that no-man is properly civilised unless he speaks their language and acts in the manner they consider cultured. These men have come here out of recognition of the Hunter’s insight, and also my understanding of the Balance. But they remain Gunnagal. They will be resentful of any commander who is not also a Gunnagal. Save the Hunter himself, naturally; they recognise his vision. But this is not his warband. So if I were not the commander, it would need to be another Warego who is also a Gunnagal. There is none such.”
And do you think that all of the rest of us who do not speak Gunnagal are uncivilised? Jowarra asked himself the question, then dismissed it. Malligo had troubled himself to learn Yalatji, and learn it well. Whether he was competent remained to be seen, but he was not malicious. "And the other less obvious reasons?”
“Because I can more easily recognise ears of Tjibarr who may have slipped in amongst the men.”
“You think that they have sent spies to the Dominion?”
“I am sure that they have. The Grays in particular are notorious for such things, but other factions do so too.”
Underhanded business, using spies. “So you watch for spies so that you can remove them?”
Malligo looked baffled. “Remove them? Why would I want to remove them?”
“You tolerate people who might be reporting back to Tjibarr?”
“I have identified two men whom I am reasonably sure are ears, one for the Grays, one of unknown faction. I have left them in place. If I removed them, then the factions would just try to include other listeners amongst the next batch of recruits.”
“Ah. You have some insight.”
“Thank you. Growing up in Tjibarr teaches a man some things, if he pays attention. For these men, I have them watched, let them hear things that do not matter, but ensure that anything which is truly secret is kept from their ears until it no longer matters. This way, it also means that if the Hunter or I want to send false news back to Tjibarr, I ensure that it is repeated in their hearing.”
Jowarra laughed, and clapped the River-Man on the shoulder. “Artfully planned. But tell me more of these men you command, this Harmony Battalion. You have, what four hundred men here?”
“About four hundred and forty in the group here. Another ninety watching Gunneroi and its environs.”
“Impressive, that you brought so many cavalry from Tjibarr.”
“Many Gunnagal can ride,” Malligo said dryly. “It is just that there are many more who do not.”
“I meant, that you have found more men to join you here. I thought that your warband had only about three hundred and fifty men.”
“Ah. We had some fortune. It is not just Patjimunra we fight here. Yigutji has sent some troops to support them, and there are a few Tjibarri too, claiming to be volunteers. My compatriots pretended to be volunteers, then slipped away to join us here.”
“You trust such men to fight for you here?”
“These are men I know, or vouched for by men I trust. Many in the Five Rivers follow the Seven-fold Path, albeit with some errors. They welcome the opportunity to bring better harmony to the Five Rivers. Finding such men is easy enough, since I still have some contacts I trust back in Tjibarr. Perhaps an additional ear has slipped through, somehow. I have men watching for anyone communicating elsewhere. But virtually all of these new men are loyal. I am sure of that.”
“Very well. Tell me more about how your warband fights.”
“All of the Battalion fight with muskets, some of them of Dutch manufacture, and some made within Tjibarr. None use bows. They have neither the skill, nor the equipment.”
“Do your men fight from horseback?”
“We can, at need. Most often, we find it useful to be on foot during the fight. Much easier to fire a musket while on foot.”
“Much easier to pursue while on horseback,” Jowarra said.
Malligo shook his head. “This is true. Which is better is a judgement for a given battle.”
The talk of tactics continued. Jowarra found the discussion interesting. Evidently, Malligo had more wit and understanding of leading men than Jowarra had realised. It remained to be seen how well he could conduct himself in the heat of battle, but at least he was not a complete fool.
Eventually, Jowarra said, “Your Harmony Battalion sound to be useful soldiers. I have one concern, though. I hear that you do not celebrate properly. In Cankoona, no-one ever saw one of your men touch alcohol. Not once.”
“Alcohol is a road to disharmony,” Malligo said. “A man may commit many unbalanced acts when alcohol impairs his judgement. It is difficult to restore harmony once lost, so best not to lose it in the first place.”
“Rather strict, though I do understand. For me, I consider celebrations to be part of bringing harmony. Life is not just about battle and work.”
“Life has its pleasures. I believe, as do my men, that alcohol is not necessary to enjoy those pleasures.”
“Probably no alcohol around for now, anyway,” Jowarra said. “This Yaluma can be completed without it.” Though if he found something good to drink, he would still savour it. “More time for celebration once this struggle is over.”
Malligo gave another glance over his shoulder before replying. “You sound like a man who plans to make this your last campaign.”
Jowarra felt his eyes widen. “You are perceptive. Yes, I want this to be my last campaign in active battle.” Better than wondering if the Hunter was keeping him from the main battle. Though he did want more chances to win proper glory here first, before he retired. “After that, I will seek other service. Governor of one of the new provinces, perhaps. Or training new recruits in the art of battle. Let the rigours of battle pass to younger men.”
“Death comes to all men,” Malligo said. “For myself, I hope not to die in bed.”
Jowarra laughed. “A good way to look at life.” Maybe this River-Man was better than he appeared.
* * *
From: The Hunter and His Times
RG Toohey (1996). Oxford: University of Oxford Press.
Unlike the previous Yalumas, the Fourth Yaluma did not feature a major decisive pitched battle. The presence of Tjibarri and Yigutjian allies, who had more experience with facing cavalry, led to the decision to rely mostly on remaining in fortifications. Even early in the Yaluma, at Torimi, the allied defenders refused to accept battle on open ground, withdrawing and leaving the city to attempt to withstand the siege.
Murrginhian and allied troops still fought some engagements in open ground, but these were skirmishes, raids, and probes. The Dominion forces usually although not always had the best of these engagements. The largest single engagement was at Nhumarup near Awaki [Whittingham] on 17 November 1717, where the Harmony Battalion distinguished itself by flanking the Murrghini line and sending them fleeing from the field. Even this, though, was essentially a large skirmish as the Dominion forces probed into the western Kuyal Valley.
In effect, the Fourth Yaluma was a series of key sieges interspersed with raids and patrols in other areas. The Murrghinian forces were unable or unwilling to win in open battle, so the campaign turned into a trial of whether the Dominion forces could bring the sieges to a successful conclusion. While a few Yigutjian and Tjibarri forces assisted Murghini, neither state had any interest in sending a large-scale relief force, so Murrghini had to rely on its own capacity...
The turning point came when the Dominion successfully negotiated for delivery of a variety of artillery from the Compagnie d’Orient [French East India Company]. An assortment of cannons was delivered to Torimi in March 1718, and then quickly transported by land to the siege of Gogarra. The port city capitulated a month later, and the artillery were brought to bombard the walls of Kinhung.
Kinhung’s walls were never succcessfully breached, but the bombardment of cannon, and absence of any likely relief, proved decisive. King Dimbhula committed suicide on 29 May 1718 – sources differ on whether he had assistance – and the city surrendered.
The capitulation of Kinhung ended the substantial Murrginhi resistance. The Hunter declared that the new southern border of his realm was the Darkingai [Hawkesbury River]. In practice, control over anywhere south of the fringes of Lake Pellinore [Lake Macquarie] was only theoretical at this point. Nevertheless, this declaration brought the Fourth Yaluma to an end.
* * *
Taken from: The True History of the Yalatji: Translation and Commentary, Heron Publishing, 2nd edition.
English translation by IM Donne.
The fourth declaration of Yaluma concluded, the Hunter told his Warego that a governor would be appointed for the Kuyal, while the other Warego should begin preparations for the conquest of the Five Rivers. Yigutji would be the first target, and at last Burren’s fall could be properly avenged.
Privately, he then spoke to Jowarra, and asked him to serve him with a different form of honour. The Hunter said that he had many good commanders, but that he wanted the best of them to act in a new role. His son in Cankoona needed a guardian, one who could ensure his welfare and also share insight in battle. He asked if Jowarra would perform that responsibility.
Humbly, Jowarra accepted.
* * *
[1] The Lord of Winter is the chief official responsible for reporting on military matters, organising defensive fortifications, and the like. This role does not involve commanding armies, which is left to the King in his role as Lord of Summer, or a noble given command in the king’s stead.
[2] The Sunbearer is the chief Yigutjian official responsible for record-keeping, censuses, archives, and similar matters. The title originated because the monarch is also the Son of the Sun, and the Sunbearer essentially reports to the king on the status of the realm, and thus symbolically bears word of what the Sun can see.
[3] The Clawmaster – a shortened version of the old title Keeper of the Eagle’s Claws – is responsible for managing the collection of royal finances, and in most cases for spending it. This excludes the revenues from the monarch’s personal lands, which are managed separately.
[4] The Green Lady is the Gutjanalese version of a common Gunnagalic deity who is associated with bringing forth the fertility of plant life and generally with restoring the soil. In traditional Gutjanalese religion, the fertility of the soil was linked with the character of the monarch, which sometimes led to revolts during famines. This link has largely been broken, but the monarch is still symbolically linked to the Green Lady.
[5] Historically porcelain has long been considered the finest kind of ceramic, and was exported from China for over a millennium without any significant competition. Despite the prestige and wealth it brought, no-one else succeeded in determining the secret of its manufacture during centuries of efforts. This was because making porcelain requires a combination of two kinds of clay, one being kaolin and the other any of several minerals containing feldspar. It also needs to be fired at very high temperatures, higher than other pottery. China possessed many deposits of the right kinds of clay, and after separate developments in metallurgy was able to fire them at the required temperatures.
Even within China, porcelain was not developed at once, but via a gradual process with various kinds of proto-porcelain over about a millennium. The technology for manufacturing porcelain did diffuse into parts of East Asia, into Korea by the tenth century AD and Japan in the sixteenth century AD. However, Europeans did not discover the process until 1708.
Allohistorically, Gutjanal sits right atop an extremely large deposit of kaolin, and there are several other large deposits of the clay conveniently located near other parts of the Nyalananga [Murray]. There are also a variety of feldspar-containing clays within its territory. Gutjanal had been gradually developing various kinds of high-quality pottery made from kaolin, which were similar to the proto-porcelains of early China. With the spread of more advanced metallurgy from European contact, and with the inspiration of some traded porcelain, an artisan named Yamani cracked the secret of making porcelain in 1678. This attracted significant royal patronage, and the Durrgim (porcelain works) of Gutjanal has quickly developed into a significant production complex.
Most Gutjanal porcelain is exported to within Aururia and Aotearoa. Other export markets are harder to penetrate as Chinese porcelain production (principally at Jingdezhen) is extremely efficient and has a low cost of labour, which historically permitted China to continue large porcelain exports into Europe even after Europeans had started manufacturing some porcelain of their own. However, with disruptions to porcelain production in China with internal warfare, Gutjanal porcelain has started to be exported to Europe. (A similar opportunity arose historically for Japanese porcelain to be exported to Europe when Chinese production was disrupted around the fall of the Ming dynasty).
[6] Tiyanjara is the former eastern regions of Durigal (the Yadji lands), whose Kurnawal inhabitants successfully rebelled in 1674 and have maintained de facto independence ever since.
[7] The route which Jowarra and his troops is following is approximately the same as the historical Thunderbolts Way and then Bucketts Way, from near Orandumbie to Barrington to Gloucester then to Weismantels. Allohistorically, it is one of the few routes over the continental divide which is not fortified, but functions as an occasional trading track, and has been used to approach the outlying Patjimunra town of Gunneroi (historical Dungog, NSW).
[8] Narranuk (historical Tarree, NSW), largest city of the Loomal people, is the capital of a small Dutch protectorate which supplies a moderate quantity of spices. It has been under VOC informal control – with brief interruptions – since the 1640s.
[9] Weenurundi (historical Bulahdelah, New South Wales) is a small but extremely wealthy chiefdom just north of Murrginhi. Its wealth comes from a mountain within its territory (Bulahdelah Mountain) which contains alunite, which the local people have learned how to refine to alum. Alum is a valuable compound which is chiefly used as a mordant for fixing dyes, and so is widely exported across eastern Aururia for that purpose.
* * *
Thoughts?
“I would my horse had the speed of your tongue.”
- William Shakespeare, Much Ado About Nothing
* * *
18 November 1716
Yigutji [Wagga Wagga], Kingdom of Yigutji
When in public, Puckapunyal – King of Yigutji, Lord of Summer, Eagle of Heaven, Master of the Land, Son of the Sun – had always insisted on appropriate ceremony, dignity, and attire. Tradition expected it, and his own instincts demanded it. Such things were part of what separated civilised states from barbarians. His kingdom remained the heir to the best traditions of long-vanished Watjubaga. The old Empire had fallen, and deserved it for many reasons, but some parts of it were worth preserving, including its etiquette and recognition of proper behaviour for men of breeding.
When in private, he allowed more latitude. For those who had enough wit to distinguish between private behaviour and what should be demonstrated in public, at least. Anyone who presumed on private familiarity to display the same in public would be given one firm lesson on the dangers of transgression. If they required a second lesson, they would no longer need to learn anything again afterward, ever.
For today, he needed to consider how best to manage the diplomacy involved with the growing threat of Tjuwagga and the Horse-Men, who in a handful of years had emerged as a scourge. So he had gathered some of his highest officials to seek their advice.
The king said, “King Guwariyan of Tjibarr has answered my enquiry about common action in case the Horse-Men invade the Patjimunra. He replied on clay.”
A sign of great formality, that. Where clay had once been commonplace for writing, now the pulp and paper mills that had sprung up throughout the Five Rivers meant that paper had become the medium of choice. Only binding contracts between individuals, or treaties between states, were usually still inscribed in clay. Replying in clay meant, in effect, that Tjibarr had conveyed a position which it would not change.
“Their king states that the terms of our alliance are that if one of the three kingdoms is attacked, all will come to its defence. He says that Tjibarr will always honour that alliance. But that the treaty has no relation to events outside of the Five Rivers. He says that if Tjuwagga wants to invade Murrginhi, let him, and that every Horse-Man who dies in the east is one less to invade the Five Rivers.”
“Pah! Never trust a Gunnagal!” declared the Lord of Winter [1]. “Already some of their soldiers have defected to the barbarians.”
The Sunbearer [2] said, “Some who think that this Tjuwagga will win, and so have joined him first in a bid to gain prominence later. Unfortunate, but who can blame them, given his success so far?”
The Clawmaster [3] said, “Tjibarr is disunited, as is normal. If some of them oppose intervening in Murrginhi, then others will support it. Such is their contrariness. I have received another letter from Gurragang of the Whites, stating that if we send some men to Murrginhi, then volunteers from the factionaries of Whites, Blacks and Golds may accompany us.”
“I did not know of this,” the king said, his soft words a warning to those who paid attention.
“The letter arrived only this morning, Your Majesty,” the Clawmaster said calmly. “I had not yet had time to inform you of its arrival. Naturally, the Tjibarri factions could not write directly to you if their king had sent a formal letter with a contrary message.”
“Very well,” Puckapunyal said. The Clawmaster was very good at managing the royal revenues even in troubled times, and so such tardiness could be forgiven. In any event, most likely he had just been waiting for an opportunity to embarrass rival officials. “Tell me, then, would sending troops to Murrginhi be worthwhile if Tjibarr may send a few?”
The Lord of Winter said, “A few, yes, if it will stiffen the spines of the Patjimunra. I would hesitate to send too many troops there, lest we risk losing them, but if it makes the Horse-Men bleed more or the fight more bitter, that is all to the good.”
The Clawmaster said, “What if the Horse-Men decide to attack us instead, or mount major raids even while they invade Murrginhi?”
The Sunbearer said, “That bears on the number of troops which we should decide to send, but I am reasonably sure that the Horse-Men will attack the Sunrise Lands first. Tjuwagga cares much for spices, by all reports.”
This discussion has become of less merit since the Clawmaster revealed Tjibarri factional policy. No doubt King Guwariyan knew unofficially about the offer, too; part of the usual balancing routine required by Tjibarri politics. Not for the first time, Puckapunyal was grateful that his forebears had prevented the factions from establishing themselves in Yigutji. “Matters of soldier numbers may be discussed with the Lord of Winter and my generals. I have one further question for you: given this, should we invite Gutjanal to take part as well?”
“Any troops would be useful, but I doubt that they could be persuaded,” the Clawmaster said. “Horse-Men raids do not reach them, and they are far more concerned about Yadji and highlanders than intervening in the spicelands.”
The Lord of Winter shook his head in assent. “Trust Gutjanal to stand alongside us when the Horse-Men come to our borders in strength, yes. I would not trust them with anything else.”
“So be it,” the king said.
* * *
Weemiraga's Day, Cycle of the Sun, 12th Year of His Majesty Khurruba the Second / 19 December 1716
Gutjanal [Albury, NSW], Kingdom of Gutjanal
Khurruba, second of that name, king of Gutjanal by the favour of the Green Lady [4] and by the election of the Council of Elders, had long learned that when faced with a difficult decision, it was best to discuss a much simpler decision in a different place, while letting the back of his mind [subconscious] work out a solution.
So, given that he faced a difficult choice of diplomacy, he had opted to get away from the palace and the endless manoeuvring of the royal household. Instead, he had come to the porcelain works. Strictly speaking these were part of the royal household too, but he could come here with only a small retinue of a dozen guards, a handful of close advisers, a few servants and his current favoured concubine. Here, the decisions he would be asked to make were merely about aesthetics and preferences in porcelain.
The Durrgim [porcelain works] had been built a short distance outside of the city’s walls. Or, rather, the nearest part of the Durrgim. The core of the complex was ancient, a cluster of ceramics workshops which had been built close to the river to take advantage of easy transportation and the rich deposits of potters’ stone [kaolin]. Since Yamani had discovered the secrets of manufacturing porcelain, the Durrgim had expanded. New, much larger kilns had been built into the hills behind, where the natural slope allowed them to fire greater quantities of porcelain at once. More craftsmen had come, then glazers, then painters, and other workers, until the Durrgim was now virtually a small town unto itself.
Khurruba entered the fringes of the Durrgim, two guards walking ahead of him, two either side of him, with the rest of the guards and his retinue following behind. Everyone he passed in the roadway went down on one knee with their heads lowered as he passed. He registered their gestures of respect only as background; his thoughts were elsewhere.
Matters of state pressed for his decision. Yigutji had requested that he send troops to support distant Murrginhi, which was reportedly under threat by the even more distant Horse-Men and their remarkable warleader. Tjibarr had already declined the invitation, and then agreed to send some unofficial soldiers anyway; such was the Gunnagal way.
Should I send soldiers to a place so far away, where they risk privation and death to stop a foe who may never reach Gutjanal’s borders? The Horse-Men had long raided the fringes of Tjibarri and Yigutjian territory, but never crossed into his realm. His kingdom had other threats, current and potential. Not least of which were Tjibarr and Yigutji, the two nations who currently shielded Gutjanal from the Horse-Men but who might one day pose a danger themselves.
His musings did not yet find answers, but they kept his thoughts occupied while his feet brought him into the heart of the Durrgim. Here was the greatest place of manufacture of porcelain outside of Cathay and China. The only place which had deduced the secret; Nhippon [Japan] and Corea had learned how to make porcelain from Cathay, while the Raw Men had tried to learn and failed. Only Gutjanal had succeeded.
He reached the largest workshop in the Durrgim. The greatest of the three workshops which were under royal control; the long thin shape of its kiln stretched up the slope behind it. Many private workshops and supporting crafts had sprung up around the great three, and they could still be required to produce royal porcelain at need, but these three produced only what was approved by royal order. Porcelain for the royal household itself, for gifts for Elders or elsewhere in the realm, or for gifts or trade to Tjibarr, Yigutji, the Yadji, or the broader world.
A collection of the craftsmen and craftswomen awaited him outside of the workshop. Word of his arrival had spread ahead of him, as could be expected. All of them went down on one knee with their heads lowered, with the exception of one short, large-nosed man who simply lowered his head. The Master of the Clay.
This man held a royal appointment, the newest grand title of the royal household. He was only the second man to hold this title, after Yamani himself, the discoverer of the secret of manufacturing porcelain. Many people had made fine pottery here for generations. But only with the grand secret of porcelain was the chief potter elevated to become part of the royal household, with all of the status and security which came with it [5].
The Master raised his head as the king approached; another mark of his status. The king gestured absently for the others to rise. “Let all except the Master of the Clay resume their duties. I wish to observe and discuss, not interrupt.”
The assembled workers returned to their tasks at speed, whether out of a good sense of duty or an even better sense of what was a royal command. Only the Master remained with the king and his retinue.
“Does Your Majesty desire to see any particular parts of the workshop?”
“Let me see the new samples that have been prepared,” Khurruba said. The Master lowered his head for a moment, then led the way around the side of the workshop, rather than the main doors, to a smaller room which had been built jutting out from the main wall of the workshop.
Inside the sample room, an array of ceramic glory awaited him: plates, bowls, vases, jugs and other wares. No two were the same; each had been produced as samples for testing and confirmation before the full sets were fired. Each had some white in them somewhere, to show the true translucent qualities of porcelain, but other than that they were each distinct.
Green and white hues predominated amongst the wares prepared for within the kingdom. Some of that was ordered for use within his own palace. Much of it was for royal gifts, usually to one Elder or another. The Elders needed to be kept onside, now more than ever. They had always been a potential source of trouble. More than one had led revolts during the Great Dying. Now, with an unexpected danger looming over his kingdom, he needed to keep the Elders viewing him favourably, lest any think to side with the enemies of the realm.
Normally, he would have expected the rest of the green and white-hued samples to be for royal-endorsed requests from within the kingdom; those who had been favoured with permission to order from the royal workshops, the finest producers of porcelain. But there were too many of them for that.
“Why so many samples with these colours?” he asked, gesturing vaguely to the nearest group of green-and-white porcelain bowls.
“For the kings of Waikato and Te Arawa in Aotearoa.”
“Ah.” He had known that porcelain was being prepared for those kings, of course, because he had granted permission for orders to be made. But he had not expected two Māori monarchs to be so civilized, not to mention wealthy, to order so many different items of porcelain.
He was content to let Māori order what porcelain they wished. Unlike the nearer neighbours, they posed no threat to his kingdom. For Gutjanal had always been a nation surrounded by enemies. Yigutji to the north, Tjibarr to the west, the Yadji to the south, and the Hill-Men to the east. His forefathers had kept their thrones by knowing which of those enemies to fight and which to placate.
Other nations were more fortunate. Tjibarr and Yigutji had not possessed major enemies on many of their borders, while the Yadji had the sea as their longest border. With the rise of the Horse-Men, now Yigutji and Tjibarr had learned the same truth which had long governed the reigns of the kings of Gutjanal.
He had to decide how best to ensure the survival and prosperity of his kingdom in these ever more turbulent times. Porcelain formed one small part of the endeavour; it was a source of wealth, and also a source of improved relations for diplomacy with his neighbours.
Blue and white hues predominated amongst the porcelain which had been ordered by the Raw Men or from the Attamandj [Ottomans]. The Raw Men had long craved porcelain, and since they did not know how to make it themselves, had relied on China and Cathay. With those two nations now engaged in war, the supply of porcelain had been disrupted, leading to ever-growing orders from the Raw Men. He was glad to see that trade flourish; keeping the Raw Men happy and his own kingdom wealthy were both useful accomplishments. The largest of those orders, as he knew from an earlier visit, was for James II of England, that grand old monarch with whom Khurruba had maintained occasional correspondence over the years.
For the remainder of the samples, there was no clear dominating pattern of colours. That multi-hued assemblage contained its own message: most of it had been prepared for Tjibarr. The factions which ruled that downriver kingdom each preferred their own colours, and were wealthy enough to order large quantities of porcelain to match their tastes.
And a very fortunate thing that they desire porcelain. Too much needed to be bought from Tjibarr. The Tjibarri produced much of their own, and they were the conduit for virtually everything traded by the Raw Men. Most importantly in these troubled times, the Tjibarri produced muskets, and supplied the saltpetre and brimstone needed to fuel the weapons. Gutjanal made some muskets of its own, but could perhaps make more at need, but that was expensive. The brimstone and saltpetre were even more difficult to obtain within his kingdom’s borders.
Porcelain did not make up for the value of all of what needed to be bought from the Tjibarri, but it was a significant contribution. It also helped to keep the Tjibarri factions friendly; a precious benefit at any time, but particularly now that danger threatened.
“Are all of these colourful designs for Tjibarr?” he asked.
“Mostly, save for those few there, which are for Yigutji.” The Master indicated a small number of vases which had been coloured scarlet and white.
A smaller quantity of porcelain than would previously have been common for Yigutji. Its own reminder, that. Yigutji grew increasingly concerned about the northern threat, and focused its resources there rather than on other goods, including porcelain.
Which merely means I still need to decide. Support Yigutji in its endeavour, or stand aside and weaken the bonds of our alliance? Yigutji wanted to send soldiers to support Murrginhi, against the expected invasion there. A long way distant, and not even complete certainty that they would be needed. But it was true that Tjuwagga and his Horse-Men would need to be dealt with, one way or another.
Khurruba did not see any samples intended for Durigal. The Yadji imported some porcelain at times, usually with simplistic designs. But that empire, too, was going through troubles of its own. Some rumours said that they planned war across the Narrow Sea [Bass Strait], others that they were likely to war amongst themselves. Either possibility would be desirable; anything which kept their armies too busy to trouble Gutjanal was excellent.
A brief thought occurred to him. “Has Tiyanjara [6] sent any agents to commission porcelain?”
The Master shrugged. “Not since the last enquiry Your Majesty will recall, about two years ago. They ordered nothing then, and have not returned since.”
Unfortunate. Tiyanjara had been a tantalising hope for his royal predecessors since it was formed. A new state, defiant toward the Yadji it had broken away from, and which offered an alternative route for trade if Tjibarr grew hostile. Yet despite many dances of diplomacy and endeavours, nothing much had come of it. The excuses for roads which crossed the peaks between Gutjanal and Tiyanjara made trade all but impossible, and the Kurnawal in that kingdom looked more to the sea and the Raw Men than to other powers.
None of which had stopped him sending gifts of porcelain to Tiyanjara. He had sent gifts of porcelain to every nearby nation with a ruler worthy of the name. He would even have sent a gift of porcelain to this Tjuwagga of the Horse-Men, except that it sounded as if he never stepped down from his horse long enough to appreciate it. Porcelain had many admirable qualities, but few of those could be discerned from horseback.
“Does Your Majesty wish to see any new designs?”
“In a moment,” Khurruba said. Tjuwagga was coming to the Five Rivers, if he was not defeated first. Yigutji was unlikely to send sufficient soldiers to defeat Tjuwagga in Murrginhi, even if defeat was possible at all. Yigutji would look to the security of its own realm first, and send only soldiers it could spare.
And so I, too, must maintain the security of my realm. He would send some soldiers to Yigutji itself if it were invaded, and likewise to Tjibarr, but the bulk he would keep here. There was no other way to secure his own kingdom.
That was the only answer he could give to Yigutji: do what they wished in Murrginhi, but Gutjanal would have no part of it.
* * *
Weemiraga's Day, Cycle of Wind, Year of the Ambitious Serpent (Patjimunra calendar) or Year of the Heir 566 (Tjarrlinghi calendar) / 26 September 1717
North of Gunneroi [Dungog, NSW], Kingdom of the Skin
A long column of cavalry snaked down the slope, on ground which was fortunately dry. They rode on an old trading path, which was little more than a track between trees, but sufficient to move in single file [7]. The outriders ahead would warn them of any ambushes. Not that these Patjimunra were likely to try anything so bold.
Jowarra rode at the head of the main column. His gaze barely took in the path ahead of him. Not that he needed too; his horse was perfectly capable of picking a route down the hill. His thoughts were focused inward.
At last, back to the real campaign. For too long, he had been in far-off Tjibarr, raiding along the Anedeli. A bid to keep the River-Men from intervening here. After the first couple of skirmishes, though, they found that the Tjibarri had been warned. Messages travelled by water faster than a horse could ride, and the enemies withdrew into towns or deployed soldiers in numbers too great to risk attacking.
Since then, his warband found some small pickings attacking isolated farms, but no plunder worthy of the name. Nothing which would win his name honour, while the other Warego [heroes / senior commanders] rode with the Hunter in conquest. They had advanced south from Daluming, capturing Narranuk from the Nedlandj [8], subduing some lesser chiefs, conquering wealthy Weenurundi [9], and then invaded Murrginhi.
Eventually, the Tjibarri had deployed enough troops, including some cavalry, to threaten him if he advanced further. He deemed what he had done as sufficient fulfilment of his orders to distract the Tjibarri, and returned to Dominion territory. Fortunately, the Hunter then sent instructions for him to join the Yaluma. Unfortunately, he was being sent to a minor town, not to join the main armies.
After a time, the path changed from a descent down tree-clad slopes into flatter, more open country. There, a contingent of cavalry awaited them, neatly lined up in rows. Four hundred or more riders. The banner could be easily recognised even from this distance: a golden hand, palm showing, on a blue background.
The Harmony Battalion. Which in turn meant Malligo, his least favourite of all the Warego.
Indeed, Malligo waited out the front of his battalion. This time, no interpreter waited beside him. Had the man’s Yalatji improved enough that he could now communicate without one? Or, more likely, leading a battalion itself composed of former River-Men, he did not need to communicate in any other language.
“Welcome to Murrginhi, honoured Jowarra,” Malligo said.
“Thank you,” Jowarra said. “It is good to be part of the Yaluma again.”
“The road to Gunneroi lies that way,” Malligo said, gesturing to the south. “Would you prefer to have your warband in the van, or mine?”
“Your men have more recent knowledge of this land. Let them ride first.”
“As you wish. Shall we ride between them so we can talk? I was pleased when the Hunter ordered you here, because it affords me more opportunity for discussion with the most experienced of the Warego.”
Jowarra gave the River-Man a glance at that, but he sounded entirely sincere. “So be it.”
They both paused to bark orders to their warbands, who assembled into march.
Soon enough, they rode in the midst of the advancing army. Jowarra said, “How fares the Yaluma thus far?”
Malligo shrugged. “Well enough. These Patjimunra prefer to retreat behind walls than fight in open battle, so much has been raiding and occasional sorties by them, when they feel confident. Torimi [Salamander Bay] fell first, Wonnhuar [Raymond Terrace] second, and Gogarra [Newcastle] and Kinhung [Maitland] are besieged, while our raiders have struck throughout the Kuyal [Hunter Valley].”
He is fluent in Yalatji. He learns fast, indeed. “And our role?”
“Gunneroi commands one of the two best routes south into the Kuyal, and we need to move supplies and men through this way. The town has not yet fallen. We need to keep the Patjimunra sealed up in there, so they cannot make mischief.”
Surely the Hunter has not recalled me here just to sit on the fringe. “The western roads are not clear?”
“Not safely. There are a few Yigutjians fighting here in the Kuyal, and two of the forts over the western roads still hold out. You chose the best route to come here.”
“So are we to sit here penning up the Patjimunra, doing nothing else?”
“Alone, my warband could not capture Gunneroi. Perhaps with yours, we can. That decision will be yours. You have more experience of these matters than I.”
Jowarra gave him another glance. Again, Malligo sounded entirely sincere. I do not like someone of his inexperience being made a Warego, but at least he has the wit to know his limits. “I will need to see and hear more before I make that judgement.”
“You may ask whatever you wish of me or my soldiers to assist in that decision, and it will be answered.”
“Naturally.” Jowarra paused a moment. “Your soldiers, you say?”
“Of course.”
His soldiers, or the Hunter’s soldiers that he commands? The Hunter regularly rotated Warego between warbands, so that the men could learn from many commanders, and gain understanding from many men of vision. For reasons known only to himself, Tjuwagga had exempted the Harmony Battalion from this policy.
“Has the Hunter said whether you will serve all of this Yaluma leading the Harmony Battalion, or will you serve elsewhere?”
Malligo said, “We discussed that when the Battalion was first formed. I argued that it would be best for me to remain in command. He agreed.”
“Why?”
Malligo grinned. “Many reasons. Some are straightforward, some less obvious. The men here all speak a language which few other Warego can manage. Communications are much easier if they can understand me. They also fight in the Tjibarri manner, with which I am more familiar than the other Warego.”
“Those are the obvious reasons. What about the rest?”
Malligo looked around, as if making sure that none of his men were close enough to overhear. None were. “These men are Gunnagal. Most Gunnagal think that no-man is properly civilised unless he speaks their language and acts in the manner they consider cultured. These men have come here out of recognition of the Hunter’s insight, and also my understanding of the Balance. But they remain Gunnagal. They will be resentful of any commander who is not also a Gunnagal. Save the Hunter himself, naturally; they recognise his vision. But this is not his warband. So if I were not the commander, it would need to be another Warego who is also a Gunnagal. There is none such.”
And do you think that all of the rest of us who do not speak Gunnagal are uncivilised? Jowarra asked himself the question, then dismissed it. Malligo had troubled himself to learn Yalatji, and learn it well. Whether he was competent remained to be seen, but he was not malicious. "And the other less obvious reasons?”
“Because I can more easily recognise ears of Tjibarr who may have slipped in amongst the men.”
“You think that they have sent spies to the Dominion?”
“I am sure that they have. The Grays in particular are notorious for such things, but other factions do so too.”
Underhanded business, using spies. “So you watch for spies so that you can remove them?”
Malligo looked baffled. “Remove them? Why would I want to remove them?”
“You tolerate people who might be reporting back to Tjibarr?”
“I have identified two men whom I am reasonably sure are ears, one for the Grays, one of unknown faction. I have left them in place. If I removed them, then the factions would just try to include other listeners amongst the next batch of recruits.”
“Ah. You have some insight.”
“Thank you. Growing up in Tjibarr teaches a man some things, if he pays attention. For these men, I have them watched, let them hear things that do not matter, but ensure that anything which is truly secret is kept from their ears until it no longer matters. This way, it also means that if the Hunter or I want to send false news back to Tjibarr, I ensure that it is repeated in their hearing.”
Jowarra laughed, and clapped the River-Man on the shoulder. “Artfully planned. But tell me more of these men you command, this Harmony Battalion. You have, what four hundred men here?”
“About four hundred and forty in the group here. Another ninety watching Gunneroi and its environs.”
“Impressive, that you brought so many cavalry from Tjibarr.”
“Many Gunnagal can ride,” Malligo said dryly. “It is just that there are many more who do not.”
“I meant, that you have found more men to join you here. I thought that your warband had only about three hundred and fifty men.”
“Ah. We had some fortune. It is not just Patjimunra we fight here. Yigutji has sent some troops to support them, and there are a few Tjibarri too, claiming to be volunteers. My compatriots pretended to be volunteers, then slipped away to join us here.”
“You trust such men to fight for you here?”
“These are men I know, or vouched for by men I trust. Many in the Five Rivers follow the Seven-fold Path, albeit with some errors. They welcome the opportunity to bring better harmony to the Five Rivers. Finding such men is easy enough, since I still have some contacts I trust back in Tjibarr. Perhaps an additional ear has slipped through, somehow. I have men watching for anyone communicating elsewhere. But virtually all of these new men are loyal. I am sure of that.”
“Very well. Tell me more about how your warband fights.”
“All of the Battalion fight with muskets, some of them of Dutch manufacture, and some made within Tjibarr. None use bows. They have neither the skill, nor the equipment.”
“Do your men fight from horseback?”
“We can, at need. Most often, we find it useful to be on foot during the fight. Much easier to fire a musket while on foot.”
“Much easier to pursue while on horseback,” Jowarra said.
Malligo shook his head. “This is true. Which is better is a judgement for a given battle.”
The talk of tactics continued. Jowarra found the discussion interesting. Evidently, Malligo had more wit and understanding of leading men than Jowarra had realised. It remained to be seen how well he could conduct himself in the heat of battle, but at least he was not a complete fool.
Eventually, Jowarra said, “Your Harmony Battalion sound to be useful soldiers. I have one concern, though. I hear that you do not celebrate properly. In Cankoona, no-one ever saw one of your men touch alcohol. Not once.”
“Alcohol is a road to disharmony,” Malligo said. “A man may commit many unbalanced acts when alcohol impairs his judgement. It is difficult to restore harmony once lost, so best not to lose it in the first place.”
“Rather strict, though I do understand. For me, I consider celebrations to be part of bringing harmony. Life is not just about battle and work.”
“Life has its pleasures. I believe, as do my men, that alcohol is not necessary to enjoy those pleasures.”
“Probably no alcohol around for now, anyway,” Jowarra said. “This Yaluma can be completed without it.” Though if he found something good to drink, he would still savour it. “More time for celebration once this struggle is over.”
Malligo gave another glance over his shoulder before replying. “You sound like a man who plans to make this your last campaign.”
Jowarra felt his eyes widen. “You are perceptive. Yes, I want this to be my last campaign in active battle.” Better than wondering if the Hunter was keeping him from the main battle. Though he did want more chances to win proper glory here first, before he retired. “After that, I will seek other service. Governor of one of the new provinces, perhaps. Or training new recruits in the art of battle. Let the rigours of battle pass to younger men.”
“Death comes to all men,” Malligo said. “For myself, I hope not to die in bed.”
Jowarra laughed. “A good way to look at life.” Maybe this River-Man was better than he appeared.
* * *
From: The Hunter and His Times
RG Toohey (1996). Oxford: University of Oxford Press.
Unlike the previous Yalumas, the Fourth Yaluma did not feature a major decisive pitched battle. The presence of Tjibarri and Yigutjian allies, who had more experience with facing cavalry, led to the decision to rely mostly on remaining in fortifications. Even early in the Yaluma, at Torimi, the allied defenders refused to accept battle on open ground, withdrawing and leaving the city to attempt to withstand the siege.
Murrginhian and allied troops still fought some engagements in open ground, but these were skirmishes, raids, and probes. The Dominion forces usually although not always had the best of these engagements. The largest single engagement was at Nhumarup near Awaki [Whittingham] on 17 November 1717, where the Harmony Battalion distinguished itself by flanking the Murrghini line and sending them fleeing from the field. Even this, though, was essentially a large skirmish as the Dominion forces probed into the western Kuyal Valley.
In effect, the Fourth Yaluma was a series of key sieges interspersed with raids and patrols in other areas. The Murrghinian forces were unable or unwilling to win in open battle, so the campaign turned into a trial of whether the Dominion forces could bring the sieges to a successful conclusion. While a few Yigutjian and Tjibarri forces assisted Murghini, neither state had any interest in sending a large-scale relief force, so Murrghini had to rely on its own capacity...
The turning point came when the Dominion successfully negotiated for delivery of a variety of artillery from the Compagnie d’Orient [French East India Company]. An assortment of cannons was delivered to Torimi in March 1718, and then quickly transported by land to the siege of Gogarra. The port city capitulated a month later, and the artillery were brought to bombard the walls of Kinhung.
Kinhung’s walls were never succcessfully breached, but the bombardment of cannon, and absence of any likely relief, proved decisive. King Dimbhula committed suicide on 29 May 1718 – sources differ on whether he had assistance – and the city surrendered.
The capitulation of Kinhung ended the substantial Murrginhi resistance. The Hunter declared that the new southern border of his realm was the Darkingai [Hawkesbury River]. In practice, control over anywhere south of the fringes of Lake Pellinore [Lake Macquarie] was only theoretical at this point. Nevertheless, this declaration brought the Fourth Yaluma to an end.
* * *
Taken from: The True History of the Yalatji: Translation and Commentary, Heron Publishing, 2nd edition.
English translation by IM Donne.
The fourth declaration of Yaluma concluded, the Hunter told his Warego that a governor would be appointed for the Kuyal, while the other Warego should begin preparations for the conquest of the Five Rivers. Yigutji would be the first target, and at last Burren’s fall could be properly avenged.
Privately, he then spoke to Jowarra, and asked him to serve him with a different form of honour. The Hunter said that he had many good commanders, but that he wanted the best of them to act in a new role. His son in Cankoona needed a guardian, one who could ensure his welfare and also share insight in battle. He asked if Jowarra would perform that responsibility.
Humbly, Jowarra accepted.
* * *
[1] The Lord of Winter is the chief official responsible for reporting on military matters, organising defensive fortifications, and the like. This role does not involve commanding armies, which is left to the King in his role as Lord of Summer, or a noble given command in the king’s stead.
[2] The Sunbearer is the chief Yigutjian official responsible for record-keeping, censuses, archives, and similar matters. The title originated because the monarch is also the Son of the Sun, and the Sunbearer essentially reports to the king on the status of the realm, and thus symbolically bears word of what the Sun can see.
[3] The Clawmaster – a shortened version of the old title Keeper of the Eagle’s Claws – is responsible for managing the collection of royal finances, and in most cases for spending it. This excludes the revenues from the monarch’s personal lands, which are managed separately.
[4] The Green Lady is the Gutjanalese version of a common Gunnagalic deity who is associated with bringing forth the fertility of plant life and generally with restoring the soil. In traditional Gutjanalese religion, the fertility of the soil was linked with the character of the monarch, which sometimes led to revolts during famines. This link has largely been broken, but the monarch is still symbolically linked to the Green Lady.
[5] Historically porcelain has long been considered the finest kind of ceramic, and was exported from China for over a millennium without any significant competition. Despite the prestige and wealth it brought, no-one else succeeded in determining the secret of its manufacture during centuries of efforts. This was because making porcelain requires a combination of two kinds of clay, one being kaolin and the other any of several minerals containing feldspar. It also needs to be fired at very high temperatures, higher than other pottery. China possessed many deposits of the right kinds of clay, and after separate developments in metallurgy was able to fire them at the required temperatures.
Even within China, porcelain was not developed at once, but via a gradual process with various kinds of proto-porcelain over about a millennium. The technology for manufacturing porcelain did diffuse into parts of East Asia, into Korea by the tenth century AD and Japan in the sixteenth century AD. However, Europeans did not discover the process until 1708.
Allohistorically, Gutjanal sits right atop an extremely large deposit of kaolin, and there are several other large deposits of the clay conveniently located near other parts of the Nyalananga [Murray]. There are also a variety of feldspar-containing clays within its territory. Gutjanal had been gradually developing various kinds of high-quality pottery made from kaolin, which were similar to the proto-porcelains of early China. With the spread of more advanced metallurgy from European contact, and with the inspiration of some traded porcelain, an artisan named Yamani cracked the secret of making porcelain in 1678. This attracted significant royal patronage, and the Durrgim (porcelain works) of Gutjanal has quickly developed into a significant production complex.
Most Gutjanal porcelain is exported to within Aururia and Aotearoa. Other export markets are harder to penetrate as Chinese porcelain production (principally at Jingdezhen) is extremely efficient and has a low cost of labour, which historically permitted China to continue large porcelain exports into Europe even after Europeans had started manufacturing some porcelain of their own. However, with disruptions to porcelain production in China with internal warfare, Gutjanal porcelain has started to be exported to Europe. (A similar opportunity arose historically for Japanese porcelain to be exported to Europe when Chinese production was disrupted around the fall of the Ming dynasty).
[6] Tiyanjara is the former eastern regions of Durigal (the Yadji lands), whose Kurnawal inhabitants successfully rebelled in 1674 and have maintained de facto independence ever since.
[7] The route which Jowarra and his troops is following is approximately the same as the historical Thunderbolts Way and then Bucketts Way, from near Orandumbie to Barrington to Gloucester then to Weismantels. Allohistorically, it is one of the few routes over the continental divide which is not fortified, but functions as an occasional trading track, and has been used to approach the outlying Patjimunra town of Gunneroi (historical Dungog, NSW).
[8] Narranuk (historical Tarree, NSW), largest city of the Loomal people, is the capital of a small Dutch protectorate which supplies a moderate quantity of spices. It has been under VOC informal control – with brief interruptions – since the 1640s.
[9] Weenurundi (historical Bulahdelah, New South Wales) is a small but extremely wealthy chiefdom just north of Murrginhi. Its wealth comes from a mountain within its territory (Bulahdelah Mountain) which contains alunite, which the local people have learned how to refine to alum. Alum is a valuable compound which is chiefly used as a mordant for fixing dyes, and so is widely exported across eastern Aururia for that purpose.
* * *
Thoughts?
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Answers my questions about Tiyanjara. Having had a close look at google earth since last posting it does seem pretty unlikely that either Tiyanjara or Gutjunal are going to build a sufficiently good road to facilitate trade. I'm also guessing that Tiyanjara is pretty poor by Aururian standards? I mean, it is basically Gippsland which is pretty poor by Australian standards. Maybe in the 20th century they can all be coal miners.
Is the Dominion essentially a space filling Empire or will the Hunter eventually meet his match?
Also. No Glorious Revolution?
Also. No Glorious Revolution?
OTL James II was never born in this timeline, since Charles I died of disease before he could father him. This James II is Charles II's son, not his younger brother.
By the way, I'm finally caught up with this timeline. Great job so far.
See my edited post above. I wasn't exactly clear initially, so I changed it.
I will cover this in more detail when I get around to writing a post on Tiyanjara, but it's actually turned into quite a wealthy state. They've expanded their cultivation of jeeree (lemon-scented tea) along the alluvial soils around valleys (the only decent soils), which conveniently link by river to the various coastal lakes and thus for export. For the poorer non-alluvial soils, they've taken up sheep-raising and started exporting wool in a significant way. Tiyanjara is one of the few parts of agricultural Aururia where there is enough spare land for running sheep, since the soils are poor enough that no-one uses them for much else.
So between jeeree and wool exports, Tiyanjara is actually pretty well-off per capita. And since those exports all need to go out by water to European (or Nuttana) buyers, that's another reason why Tiyanjara looks much more to the sea than to the land.
Yes.
Or more seriously. the Hunter is one of those figures who has both a lot of military talent, and has come into a time and society which gives him the opportunity to exploit that talent to the full. He's not quite an Aururian Genghis Khan, but he's a very effective commander, and has a wealth of cavalry and military veterans which gives him the opportunity to conquer.
That doesn't make him invincible, but it does mean that he has been well-placed to conquer some of the more divided peoples he has faced so far with relative ease. Of course, the next main target is the Five Rivers, which is far more populated and far more well-defended than anything he has faced so far. (Malligo was spot-on that it was a harder challenge.) The Five Rivers can wield lots of infantry with muskets, for instance, which are much harder for cavalry to attack successfully, although the cavalry still has much more strategic mobility.
Also, at the moment many of his conquests have consisted of "local ruler acknowledges Hunter's suzerainty, pays some tribute, but remains largely in charge in a day-to-day sentence." The actual level of control varies considerably. Lowland Daluming and the southern Kiyungu are starting to get integrated, and have significant Tjarrlinghi administrative classes moving in, but for the remaining territory it's much more variable.
@Mort the Reaper has covered much of this, but ITTL Charles I died of disease and the English Civil War got postponed for a while. There was one later, which Charles II won. James II, his son, has turned into a near-absolute monarch and quite effective ruler. (As with many absolute monarchs, he does not acknowledge any official limitations on his power, but still needs to acknowledge other interests when ruling).
Thanks. This has been a lot of fun to write over the years.
So The Hunter is more Napoleon than Ghengiz? I wonder who the Aururian Wellington and Blucher are and where he'll meet his Waterloo?
Also. Will a Swedish group win this TL's version of A Song For Europe with a jaunty ditty metaphorically comparing The Hunter's final defeat to falling in love?
Also. Will a Swedish group win this TL's version of A Song For Europe with a jaunty ditty metaphorically comparing The Hunter's final defeat to falling in love?
Interesting. I'll have to look forward to the Tiyanjara post. Given their small size and geographic isolation, I do wonder if they'll have much direct contact with the Dominion... well, if Durigal falls I'm sure they will - if.
I wasn't saying that the Hunter was inevitably going to be defeated, just pointing out that he is not a superman who is going to win every battle because he has Plot Armour or Perfect Generalship. He is a very, very good commander with a good army behind him, but he also faces some significant challenges.
Depending on how his career fares, it might be a Bavarian group singing a jaunty ditty claiming that the only real defeat he suffered was falling in love.
One suspects that if and when the Hunter gets as far as subduing Durigal, Tiyanjara will very quickly offer to submit rather than hold out hope that they could defeat an army which by that point would need to have conquered the Five Rivers and Durigal.
I guess part of making predictions here is how we interpret Clement's comment that it was, 200 years later, "too soon to tell" whether or not the Hunter had been successful. To me that initially implied that while he, more or less, completes his conquests, his legacy was more than a bit uncertain. Probably in part due to the obvious issues with succession/longevity that the Dominion will be faced with. Nonetheless, this does not imply that he will win every battle and conquer every part of Eastern Aururia.
Of course another way of interpreting Clement's statement is regarding some of the Hunter's other ambitions. "Bringing harmony" is an obvious area for a "mixed" legacy. Dealing with/defeating the Europeans is another in which while some success is likely a permanent removal of European influence in Eastern Aururia is unlikely.
Perhaps the Hunter is only partially successful in all these ambitions, including conquest, but in none of them also a complete failure. A partial subjugation of the Five Rivers/Durigal but with greater longevity for the Dominion as a whole and a permanent reduction but not removal of European influence. Given that the overriding narrative theme of the Hunter arc seems to be something along the lines of "the hunt never ends", but also given that the wide variety of ways which this could be represented geopolitically, I'm not going to make any hard guesses as to the outcome of the Hunter's ambitions.
The Dominion's bloodstained banner seems like it would be hell to redraw/reproduce, given the presumably unique pattern left by Burren's blood. Has it been simplified into a more conventional white-red flag pattern for use as a battle standard by the Waregoes' armies?
For that matter, have any of the other Aururian states adopted flags or some other uniquely Aururian equivalent?
Also this is probably very far in the future but might the Dominion try to preserve the ruins of Lopitja, or refurbish them as a Jerusalem-style pilgrimage site? It would, symbolically, be a way to assert superiority over the Nangu School of Plirism. Pilgrimage money would probably also be beneficial for finances, especially if the other Plirite schools recognize Tjarrling rule of the place so long as they get a separate quarter of it for their own use.
For that matter, have any of the other Aururian states adopted flags or some other uniquely Aururian equivalent?
Also this is probably very far in the future but might the Dominion try to preserve the ruins of Lopitja, or refurbish them as a Jerusalem-style pilgrimage site? It would, symbolically, be a way to assert superiority over the Nangu School of Plirism. Pilgrimage money would probably also be beneficial for finances, especially if the other Plirite schools recognize Tjarrling rule of the place so long as they get a separate quarter of it for their own use.
Re-read this entire timeline after a while, it's a pretty fantastic read!
I have a very specific question, the post references that Tjibarr and Gutjanal have learned how to make muskets. Given the timeframe of this are we talking about matchlocks, snaphaunces or have they got their hands on full on flintlocks?
I have a very specific question, the post references that Tjibarr and Gutjanal have learned how to make muskets. Given the timeframe of this are we talking about matchlocks, snaphaunces or have they got their hands on full on flintlocks?
That might be doable from 1619 onward, to help get all of the key dates from the main timeline into one document. Anything from before 1619 would be much more sporadic, because I don't have much of a list of dates and details before that. (A few dates here and there, but not consistently.)
As an aside, I do have some plans for one or two prequel type stories set in the dying days of the Watjubagan Empire, but that will be a while before being written.
There has been a viewpoint character in chapter #102 who heard the Hunter give a summary of his ambitions. I can't quote that easily on the phone but essentially he said that he wanted to ride his horse into the sea to north and south and east, and know that he had brought harmony to all the lands through which he had ridden. Of course, the word conquer doesn't appear here, and it's also possible that the Hunter modified his ambitions later in life.
For obvious reasons I'm not commenting on any specific predictions, but I would note that there's enough foreshadowing in there to make some informed guesses.
A variety of Aururian states have adopted flags or equivalent. This is one of the points which was planned to be shown in the maps to go alongside the Hunter sequence, but the original mapmaker is unfortunately not available to complete those.
The blood-stained banner has indeed been converted to a more stylised representation.
Lopitja is not quite dead. It's certainly not well-populated, but there's a few people there. Pilgrimage happens, although it's not as organised as in, say, Christianity.
So there may be some scope there to rebuild and develop the sites there.
Basically all flintlocks, except for a handful of wheel-locks made for specialised purposes. They experimented with matchlocks earlier, but they've long since moved on.
Essentially, the Yadji were able to import flintlocks from 1650 or thereabouts (I haven't specified the exact year). They wanted the best firearms available, and had the gold to buy them. So the Five Rivers states had to import true flintlocks to counter that. And the Five Rivers states could also afford true flintlocks as well (per capita, the Five Rivers states are as wealthy as anywhere in Europe, except possibly London and parts of the Netherlands).
By 1715, Tjibarr and Gutjanal are capable of making firearms which are a technical match for anything made in Europe. However, because the cost of skilled labour is higher in the Five Rivers than in Europe, in many cases it still works out cheaper to import them.
As an aside, Japan has also stopped making matchlocks ITTL by now too, unlike OTL. Their firearm export business meant that they needed to export flintlocks because that was what the Nuttana demanded. There would still be some older Japanese-made matchlocks in use in parts of Aururia and Aotearoa (the Nuttana bought flintlocks and then sold their own matchlocks off, because they could), but Japan's not making any more.
Two thoughts of connection.
Given the horsemen’s control of the Lower Hunter, does this mean that there are figuratively Newcastle Knights?
Secondly being novocastrian is suffering. So must have been any assaults on The Hill (anglos are so inventive).
I still doubt that any states will manage an Ethiopia Siam or Japan, but unless China happens there’s a decent chance of an Indian situation, possibly Indonesian.
Given the horsemen’s control of the Lower Hunter, does this mean that there are figuratively Newcastle Knights?
Secondly being novocastrian is suffering. So must have been any assaults on The Hill (anglos are so inventive).
I still doubt that any states will manage an Ethiopia Siam or Japan, but unless China happens there’s a decent chance of an Indian situation, possibly Indonesian.
The Tgharrling invasion’s not only is going to reshape the geopolitical surface of Aururia, it’ll definitely change the Aururians themselves too. Think about it, with the huge explosion of cattle and the rapid expansion of the Hunter, I can see lactose intolerance being dealt with due to the influx in dairy items (do they drink mare milk and make cottage or make dairy based items?). It also resembles the Mongol expansions into Central Asia which pretty much caused huge movements of people, and the agglomeration of people groups, like how Turkic and Mongol groups intermixed, or how Turkic tribes migrated in all directions.
I can see a whole new group of people born from the mixing of the several Aururian groups brought together under the Hunter.
I can see a whole new group of people born from the mixing of the several Aururian groups brought together under the Hunter.
Lands of Red and Gold #119: In Good Company
Lands of Red and Gold #119: In Good Company
“Felix qui potuit rerum cognoscere causas.” (Blessed is he who has been able to win knowledge of the causes of things.)
- Virgil, the Georgics
* * *
13th Year of Regent Badugi Yadji / 17 August 1718
Kirunmara [Terang, Victoria]
Durigal [Land of the Five Directions]
William Groom, newly-appointed Counsellor of Durigal [1], had heard tales of the wealth of the Yadji, but no amount of tales could do justice to the reality. He was escorted through grand open doors framed with gold, and through long halls decorated with seemingly-endless luxuries. Lacquered cabinets and other furniture from China, glasswares from Venice and England and Daluming, statues and ornamentation of gleaming Dogport brass [2], and more. Much more. Surprisingly little porcelain, given how close they were to Gutjanal, but the few pieces he saw were as of high quality as everything else here.
Despite all of the varied decorations, the gold was the most valuable, and the most important. This had always been the case in Durigal, from what he had heard. This was the wealthiest country in the Land of Gold, and this palace held much of that wealth.
The first tales of that wealth had inspired a renegade Dutchman to try to take the gold by force. He had failed, and his failure was the English opportunity. The Company had been closely involved with Durigal ever since. Trade had brought much gold out of Durigal and into the Company’s coffers, at less risk than mounting another conquest – but from what he could see of the royal palace, much more gold remained than had been traded.
Great opportunities remain here for the Company – unless we are displaced.
In time, he was escorted into a great hall to see the Yadji Emperor. Or Regent, as they called them here. Never to be named while he lived. Or such had been impressed repeatedly on Groom by a stream of Company men who had advised him about how to approach his new appointment.
Although admitted into the hall, Groom was not ushered up to meet the Regent. The previous audience continued, with two men and one woman kneeling before the throne and occasionally looking up to speak to the ruler. He was admitted close enough to hear the voices, but could not understand a word. They were speaking in the Yadji language, which few Englishmen attempted to learn. Offence was too easy to give when using that language, with exile a likely outcome for anyone who offended the Regent for misspeaking in his native tongue.
For all of the splendour of the palace, including the throne he sat on, the Regent himself dressed far more moderately. As was the common fashion here, he wore a tunic, this one dyed in azure and scarlet, which according to Groom’s informant had become the colours of the Yadji for the last three rulers. Over the tunic, he wore a chestplate of gleaming brass with a carved design of lines and circles.
The only real sign of his wealth was the anjumi [headband] he wore. Reportedly all subjects of the Regent had worn anjumi in the past, but now only priests and nobles used them. This Regent wore an anjumi woven from gold thread. It must have been heavy, but he bore it without any sign of strain.
Two men stood behind the Regent, one on either side. One wore a similar style of clothing to the Regent: tunic, chestplate and anjumi, which were more elaborately decorated than that of the monarch, including more gems and iridescent feathers attached to the band around his head. This was one of the priests of the Yadji’s pagan faith, though Groom did not yet know enough about their ranks and titles to identify which priest. On the other side of the throne, another man stood wearing white cassock and mitre: Murrayan, the Bishop of Durigal.
That arrangement, with the Regent balanced between a pagan and Christian priest, epitomised all of the advice Groom had received about the nature of rule in Durigal. The Yadji monarchs publicly continued to declare their rule in the name of the Neverborn, their pagan god, but many of the royal family were Christian in truth. Conversion to Christianity was officially forbidden for commoners here, but the true faith was spreading nonetheless, particularly amongst the Girajti, the subject people who lived near the Company’s main trading port at Fort Cumberland [Geelong, Victoria]. In most cases, the prohibition against conversion simply meant that converts could not worship openly.
The Regent finished his existing audience; the supplicants rose to their feet but backed out while still crouched over. When his invitation came to step forward, Groom gave a deep bow but remained on his feet. The Company had long ago secured permission to use proper English gestures of respect with the Regents and notables of Durigal, rather than having to abase themselves like the natives.
At a murmured instruction from the native beside him, Groom said, “I am William Groom, Counsellor of Durigal in the service of the Governor and Company of Merchants of London trading into the East Indies, and I thank Your Majesty for admitting me to your presence.”
The Regent said, “Be welcome, Minister of the Honourable Company. What matter brings you to request a royal audience?”
“My Company has requested that I gain more understanding of Your Majesty’s views on matters that impinge on commerce.”
The Regent smiled. “Ah, yes. Your Company faces such a struggle, now that the last bastion of spices has fallen into the hands of this Seeker and his armies. Now your directors must decide whether to forego profits in spices, or forego trading with the Nuttana for other sources of profit.”
“My Company is particularly interested to learn your views of this Seeker,” Groom said, carefully avoiding any response to the rest of the Regent’s barb. In truth, the discussions he had heard in Bombay [3] and letters from London were frantic about what steps could be taken to re-enter the spice trade. That was even before the fall of Murrginhi. It was too soon to receive any word from Bombay responding to the fall, but he could guess the reaction.
“A savage leader of savages,” the Regent said, his lip curled. “But no fool. He has set terms for trade in spices which require merchants to honour his sovereignty. Which must be most troublesome for your Company. Especially knowing that your other English company could accede to his terms and gain trade of spices.”
A most cutting remark, that. The Company had spent the last decade and a half managing the problem caused when King James decided to end its monopoly in Eastern trade, then auctioning off shares in the new Oriental Company. The Company had coped well so far, preserving the main English presence in Aururia, here in Durigal and Port Percy [Sydney], and mostly with the Kurnawal in the Cider Isle [Tasmania]. But the Oriental Company was always seeking to establish a toehold in the Land of Gold, and this new Seeker gave them a great opportunity to take over the spice trade.
“This Seeker appears to be thinking more about the Five Rivers than other matters of trade. My Company wants to know what Your Majesty would do if he invades there.”
The Regent laughed. “You mean, would I invade there too?”
Groom nodded, then remembered his advice about customs here and changed it to a shake of his head.
“Why would I interfere with such a struggle? Let this savage pagan and the Five Rivers bleed each other to ruin. I hope that their warfare is long and bloody. No threat to the Land can come from that, and if they weaken each other too far, easy enough to reclaim some territory in the aftermath.”
Groom said, “I have heard that you are bolstering the armies of the Land.”
“That is true.”
“Why then, if not to regain lands from the Five Rivers?” And regain control of the port of Jugara [Victor Harbor], the key link for most of the trade which came out of that rich land.
“I do not intend to strike north, but south.”
“South?” Groom asked, suspecting the meaning, but wanting to hear it confirmed.
The Regent smiled. “Time to strike at the Tjunini on the Cider Isle. They have gold in abundance, and will be easier to rule than the frontiers of the Copper Coast, which my predecessors have never controlled for more than a generation at a time.”
And will also threaten the Kurnawal there who look to us... though it may be worth trading their interest for direct control via Durigal.
The Regent continued, “I wish your Company to supply me with ships and crews, for a fair price, so that we may cross the Narrow Sea [Bass Strait] and bring the Cider Isle under my rule.”
“That many ships would be expensive, even at a fair price per ship.”
“More expensive than your rival Company would demand?” the Regent asked.
Groom had to stop himself from wincing. This Regent was blunt, not to mention acutely aware of the Company’s greatest fear. “I will send a message to Bombay, with my support for this proposal.”
* * *
Taken from: The True History of the Yalatji: Translation and Commentary, Heron Publishing, 2nd edition.
English translation by IM Donne.
With the Kuyal now welcomed into the Dominion, the Raw Men trading companies who desired spices could no longer find them elsewhere. The merchants of France had already recognised the Hunter’s vision and reached agreements for trade. In his magnanimity, the Hunter had permitted the treacherous Nuttana to trade at Mullumba [Petrie, QLD] for spices and other goods, but continued to bar them from the rest of the Dominion.
The traders of England and Holland had been granted trade at some specified times and places, but never a lasting agreement, because they continued to refuse to recognise that the Nuttana were within the Hunter’s sphere of influence, and thus traded with the Nuttana. The Hunter determined that the men of England be shown the strength of the Dominion, but that they did not deserve the glory of conquering them himself. While he gathered his main armies for invasion of the Five Rivers, the Hunter also ordered that Nowenrat take his warband and the Fifth Goannas, known as the Burning Mouths, and march on Port Percy...
* * *
18 August 1718
Kinhung, Province of Kuyal [Maitland, Hunter Valley]
Dominion of Harmony
Nowenrat knew that he was the greatest of the Warego save for the Hunter himself. He could ride to battle or the hunt with equal skill, and his men would follow him through uttermost darkness if he gave the order. His warband had earned the nickname the Sapphires because they had been critical in conquering the Southern Germlands, and they had served well during the latest Yaluma which culminated in the conquest of Murrginhi.
So now he found himself wondering why he was being kept from the renewed Yaluma for so long. Murrginhi was conquered, its armies submitted, with those judged worthy admitted into the Goanna battalions, with the rest dead or paroled. The Hunter had declared that the warbands should move west across the mountains, to begin the march into the Five Rivers.
Most of the senior Warego had already gone west. Only Nowenrat and Malligo remained, and that outland Warego only barely counted as senior anyway. It was reasonable for him to remain here to occupy the Kuyal until it was deemed safe enough to leave its rule to the newly-appointed governor.
But why am I being kept here? He deserved to be marching into the Five Rivers with the rest, to join the conquest of the greatest enemy of the Dominion. Instead, he and his warband had been kept back here. The Hunter himself had departed a half-cycle [six days] before, and still Nowenrat had been given no instructions to march west.
So he had been left living in the former king’s palace, now the governor’s residence, without even any authority to command the new governor. Surely I cannot have displeased the Hunter?
A polite cough interrupted his musing. He turned to see Malligo, who gave a slight bow. Nowenrat still thought that Malligo should never have been declared a Warego, as he was both an outlander and unaccomplished in battle. Yet the man did know his place, acknowledging the better vision of the other Warego.
“What brings you here?” Nowenrat asked, keeping his tone pleasant.
“I have a message to deliver,” Malligo said, and handed over a letter.
Nowenrat unsealed the letter and read it quickly. It was from the Hunter, and gave a simple message: go conquer the Inglidj in Port Percy. It also gave him command over the Fifth Goanna battalion to support his warband.
“Do you know what this letter says?”
“I have not read it, but can guess: teach the Inglidj a lesson.”
A hundred questions formed in Nowenrat’s mouth. The first one which escaped was, “How did you know that?”
“I did not know, but I suspected. He would only give you a letter like that if it was an order to battle. It could not be for the west, for the Hunter has gone there himself and could have taken you with him. Where else does that leave but the Inglidj to the south?”
“Why did the High Warego not give me the instructions himself?”
Malligo shrugged. “He did not explain it to me, but I think that he wanted to make sure that the Inglidj did not know you were coming. The Kuyal is close to their lands, and they have traded here by land and sea. Who can say who they have watching here?”
“He still could have told me himself.”
“Too many eyes in Kinhung,” Malligo said. “If he had met with you alone, men might have seen and wondered. This way, it appears that your forces are here simply to watch the Patjimunra in case anyone tries to rebel.”
“Did he give you that letter?”
“No, a servant gave me that letter with instructions to deliver it to you six days after the Hunter had departed.”
Nowenrat fell silent for a moment, as plans began to form in his head about how he should conquer the Inglidj. He knew very little about the country there; previous raids had never gone so far. He would need information and supplies, and-
Malligo said, “Does the Hunter command that I join you?”
Nowenrat glanced back at the letter. “No.”
“Then I will keep the Harmony Battalion in the Kuyal until he commands otherwise. But if you wish, I can advise what I know Port Percy and its environs.”
“Do so.”
“Port Percy is said to be a great harbour, which is why the Inglidj chose it. The harbour is on the edge of Werrimatta, a region of fertile lowlands which are ringed by hills and mountains [Cumberland Plains / Sydney basin]. The Putanjura live there, subjects to the Inglidj. The main Inglidj town is at the head of that harbour [Parramatta], so the Inglidj can come by sea.”
“How passable is the land between here and Werrimatta?”
“There are many hills, and the Darkingai [Hawkesbury River] is a wide river which must be crossed by boat save in its uppermost reaches. The Inglidj have built one road that runs between, but they will be watching it closely.”
“Hmm. Can they be approached from the west?”
“It would be a long way around, and the mountains there are said to be very difficult to cross. The only good road runs far to the southwest, and is used by Yigutjians from time to time.” Malligo paused for a long moment, then said,” But there might be a better choice.”
“Explain.”
“There is a town, Marrug [Gosford], which sits on a bay that connects to the mouth of the Darkingai. The Hunter has claimed it for the Dominion, following Murrginhi’s old claim, but our armies have not yet visited there.”
“How does that help?”
“The men there are good boat-builders, and fish along the Darkingai and out to sea. You could bring your warband there and bring them to submission... and capture their boats to ferry your warband across the mouth of the Darkingai. The Inglidj will not be expecting an invasion there.”
Nowenrat rubbed his chin. “A good thought.”
* * *
In another history it would be called Sydney. Founded on the far side of the world as a dumping ground for Britain’s unwanted; a way to get its undesirables as far from its shores as possible.
The first penal colony was established near the mouth of the harbour which the colonists called Port Jackson, but they found that the soil there was so sandy and unsuitable that they could not feed themselves. The original colony site was maintained, and called Sydney, but farms were quickly set up at the head of navigation of the river which connected to the harbour [Parramatta River]. That town, called Parramatta, was the early source of food for the colonists. The region consisted of lowlands which were called the Cumberland Plains, surrounded by more rugged territory to north and south and higher mountains to the west. Over time, most of those lowlands were converted first to agriculture and then to the sprawling suburbs of Sydney.
In this history, these lowlands were called Werrimatta, a region occupied by small city-states built by the peoples called Putanjura and Rrunga. The Raw Men first established a presence in 1646 when the English East India Company founded a trading outpost on the shores of the harbour they called Port Percy, and a town they built with the same name [Parramatta]. They came at a time when diseases were causing immense social disruption to the peoples of Werrimatta, and indeed all of Aururia. The Company armed and supported the Putanjura during this time, who in turn drove the Rrunga north out of Werrimatta.
Since that time, Port Percy remained in Company hands, except for some brief occupations during the Anglo-Dutch Wars. However, while it was established as a trading post, it did not return a great profit. Port Percy was just far enough south to be troubled by occasional frosts which hampered cultivation of the more valuable spices. The region of Werrimatta grew small amounts of common sweet peppers and jeeree, though these were available in many other locations. The local EIC factors traded with the Putanjura for the plentiful supplies of food, and then used these to allow the outpost to function as a victualling station for visiting ships. They did experiment with raising a few sheep for wool, but had to stop after the local Putanjura complained that the sheep destroyed their crops (murnong), and took to killing sheep on sight.
Port Percy did eventually offer an unexpected trade opportunity. Company officials travelled around the fringes of Werrimatta, mostly finding little to interest them, but they noted that the region they called the Blue Highlands [Southern Highlands, NSW] offered a route into the interior. In time, the demand for sweet peppers grew ever greater. Since sweet peppers grew more readily in the highland climate, the Company constructed a road into the Blue Highlands as far as the outpost they called Inverness [Bowral], to allow for their cultivation and collection.
The Company highland presence did not go unnoticed to other peoples further inland. The kingdom of Yigutji [Wagga Wagga] had long had occasional contacts with the peoples of the highlands, and made some efforts to trade with the Company for desired European goods. This trade route thus linked Yigutji linked to Port Percy, but it never attained a high volume of trade, as the cost of transport by land was far higher than the cost of exporting goods downriver to Tjibarr.
Port Percy also served one other useful purpose: it was conveniently close to the Kuyal and its spices. The Company traded there regularly, mostly by sea, although there was enough contact by land that in time they built a road to the Darkingai, then a ferry, to facilitate land visits. They did not go to the expense of building fortifications along that route; their main fortifications were beside the town of Port Percy itself, and at the two headlands which guarded the harbour.
In short, Port Percy had developed into a minor but useful outpost for the EIC. It was unfortunate for them, then, that they did not fully consider the consequences of angering the Hunter.
The Hunter’s initial rapid expansion down the eastern coast of Aururia had caused growing alarm for the Company’s directors, though this was largely based on fear for loss of access to spices. With the pause of the Consolidation and the example of how the Hunter had re-opened some trade with the Nuttana, they assumed that in time he could be negotiated with to re-open trade. As such, they did not commence any extensive preparations for further expansion.
This meant that the resumption of conquest in the Fourth Yaluma caught them by surprise. They despatched a force of one thousand Company guards from India to bolster the defences of Port Percy. The local governor at Port Percy welcomed these arrivals, and took some further comfort from the news that the Dominion forces were moving west across the mountains to pursue further conquests in the interior.
So the governor received a complete shock at the news that Dominion forces had crossed the Darkingai and were now advancing toward Port Percy at considerable speed. The local Putanjura made no effort to hinder Nowenrat’s advance, instead adopting an attitude of cautious neutrality.
The governor faced two unpalatable choices. On the one hand, he could attempt to meet the Dominion forces in open battle. That was an uncertain prospect since including the recent arrivals, his available soldiers numbered around 1500, all but a handful of which were infantry. The reports being received were that the Dominion forces were larger, and around half cavalry.
On the other hand, it appeared that the advancing forces had little or no artillery. He had the option of withdrawing into Fort Percy with relative security and sending a ship to request reinforcements from Durigal. That would, however, leave the Dominion forces free to plunder the town of Port Percy and probably all of Werrimatta. Given the Dominion’s record further north, there was also the risk that they could sway the Putanjura to longer-term revolt against Company authority.
The governor decided that choosing battle on good defensive ground was the better option, or more precisely the less bad option. The timeframe for relief was uncertain, and his reputation would suffer almost as badly from being trapped in siege as it would by being defeated by a more numerous force. His commander chose a site northeast of Port Percy, in a region known as the Oatlands, named for the eponymous crops which were cultivated there to feed the town [4].
Unfortunately for the governor, the reports of the Dominion forces in fact underestimated their strength. Nowenrat’s cavalry alone numbered more than 1500, and the Fifth Goannas numbered nearly twice that. What became known as the Battle of Oatlands saw Nowenrat adopt a simple but effective plan of outflanking the English defensive position with both infantry and cavalry. The result turned into a rout, with three hundred Company soldiers dead and over a thousand captured.
In keeping with the Hunter’s past practice, Nowenrat ordered that the captives be paroled when relief Company ships arrived. In the meantime, he sent his cavalry on a grand ride around the Werrimatta, emulating what the Hunter had done to the Kiyungu several years before, and won the submission of the Putanjura.
Soon after the last of the Company captives had been paroled to visiting ships, a further letter came over the mountains from the west. This letter stated that the Hunter had defeated an army of allied Five Rivers’ soldiers, and invited Nowenrat to leave a garrison of whatever size he deemed appropriate for the security of the new acquisition, and bring the rest of his forces to join the march against the capital of Yigutji.
* * *
[1] Effectively the English East India Company’s ambassador to the Yadji.
[2] Dogport (Port Augusta, South Australia) is the centre of the Tjibarri brass industry.
[3] Historically, Bombay (now Mumbai) was a strategic port which had been seized by the Portuguese but which the EIC greatly desired due to its excellent harbour and relative safety from land attack. They manoeuvred for Bombay to be made part of the dowry of Catherine of Braganza when she married Charles II of England in 1661, and then the EIC took control.
Allohistorically, the EIC desire for Bombay remains strong, even though there was no equivalent marriage. Portugal faced greater difficulty attaining de jure independence from Spain, since Spain had not had the same destructive Franco-Spanish War of 1638-1659. The EIC negotiated for Portugal to concede Bombay to England in 1668 in exchange for English support in forcing Spain to recognise Portuguese independence.
[4] By coincidence, this is a region which is historically known as Oatlands too (now a suburb of Sydney), although the historical suburb took its name instead from Oatlands Park in Britain. The allohistorical region known as the Oatlands is also somewhat larger than the historical suburb.
* * *
Thoughts?
“Felix qui potuit rerum cognoscere causas.” (Blessed is he who has been able to win knowledge of the causes of things.)
- Virgil, the Georgics
* * *
13th Year of Regent Badugi Yadji / 17 August 1718
Kirunmara [Terang, Victoria]
Durigal [Land of the Five Directions]
William Groom, newly-appointed Counsellor of Durigal [1], had heard tales of the wealth of the Yadji, but no amount of tales could do justice to the reality. He was escorted through grand open doors framed with gold, and through long halls decorated with seemingly-endless luxuries. Lacquered cabinets and other furniture from China, glasswares from Venice and England and Daluming, statues and ornamentation of gleaming Dogport brass [2], and more. Much more. Surprisingly little porcelain, given how close they were to Gutjanal, but the few pieces he saw were as of high quality as everything else here.
Despite all of the varied decorations, the gold was the most valuable, and the most important. This had always been the case in Durigal, from what he had heard. This was the wealthiest country in the Land of Gold, and this palace held much of that wealth.
The first tales of that wealth had inspired a renegade Dutchman to try to take the gold by force. He had failed, and his failure was the English opportunity. The Company had been closely involved with Durigal ever since. Trade had brought much gold out of Durigal and into the Company’s coffers, at less risk than mounting another conquest – but from what he could see of the royal palace, much more gold remained than had been traded.
Great opportunities remain here for the Company – unless we are displaced.
In time, he was escorted into a great hall to see the Yadji Emperor. Or Regent, as they called them here. Never to be named while he lived. Or such had been impressed repeatedly on Groom by a stream of Company men who had advised him about how to approach his new appointment.
Although admitted into the hall, Groom was not ushered up to meet the Regent. The previous audience continued, with two men and one woman kneeling before the throne and occasionally looking up to speak to the ruler. He was admitted close enough to hear the voices, but could not understand a word. They were speaking in the Yadji language, which few Englishmen attempted to learn. Offence was too easy to give when using that language, with exile a likely outcome for anyone who offended the Regent for misspeaking in his native tongue.
For all of the splendour of the palace, including the throne he sat on, the Regent himself dressed far more moderately. As was the common fashion here, he wore a tunic, this one dyed in azure and scarlet, which according to Groom’s informant had become the colours of the Yadji for the last three rulers. Over the tunic, he wore a chestplate of gleaming brass with a carved design of lines and circles.
The only real sign of his wealth was the anjumi [headband] he wore. Reportedly all subjects of the Regent had worn anjumi in the past, but now only priests and nobles used them. This Regent wore an anjumi woven from gold thread. It must have been heavy, but he bore it without any sign of strain.
Two men stood behind the Regent, one on either side. One wore a similar style of clothing to the Regent: tunic, chestplate and anjumi, which were more elaborately decorated than that of the monarch, including more gems and iridescent feathers attached to the band around his head. This was one of the priests of the Yadji’s pagan faith, though Groom did not yet know enough about their ranks and titles to identify which priest. On the other side of the throne, another man stood wearing white cassock and mitre: Murrayan, the Bishop of Durigal.
That arrangement, with the Regent balanced between a pagan and Christian priest, epitomised all of the advice Groom had received about the nature of rule in Durigal. The Yadji monarchs publicly continued to declare their rule in the name of the Neverborn, their pagan god, but many of the royal family were Christian in truth. Conversion to Christianity was officially forbidden for commoners here, but the true faith was spreading nonetheless, particularly amongst the Girajti, the subject people who lived near the Company’s main trading port at Fort Cumberland [Geelong, Victoria]. In most cases, the prohibition against conversion simply meant that converts could not worship openly.
The Regent finished his existing audience; the supplicants rose to their feet but backed out while still crouched over. When his invitation came to step forward, Groom gave a deep bow but remained on his feet. The Company had long ago secured permission to use proper English gestures of respect with the Regents and notables of Durigal, rather than having to abase themselves like the natives.
At a murmured instruction from the native beside him, Groom said, “I am William Groom, Counsellor of Durigal in the service of the Governor and Company of Merchants of London trading into the East Indies, and I thank Your Majesty for admitting me to your presence.”
The Regent said, “Be welcome, Minister of the Honourable Company. What matter brings you to request a royal audience?”
“My Company has requested that I gain more understanding of Your Majesty’s views on matters that impinge on commerce.”
The Regent smiled. “Ah, yes. Your Company faces such a struggle, now that the last bastion of spices has fallen into the hands of this Seeker and his armies. Now your directors must decide whether to forego profits in spices, or forego trading with the Nuttana for other sources of profit.”
“My Company is particularly interested to learn your views of this Seeker,” Groom said, carefully avoiding any response to the rest of the Regent’s barb. In truth, the discussions he had heard in Bombay [3] and letters from London were frantic about what steps could be taken to re-enter the spice trade. That was even before the fall of Murrginhi. It was too soon to receive any word from Bombay responding to the fall, but he could guess the reaction.
“A savage leader of savages,” the Regent said, his lip curled. “But no fool. He has set terms for trade in spices which require merchants to honour his sovereignty. Which must be most troublesome for your Company. Especially knowing that your other English company could accede to his terms and gain trade of spices.”
A most cutting remark, that. The Company had spent the last decade and a half managing the problem caused when King James decided to end its monopoly in Eastern trade, then auctioning off shares in the new Oriental Company. The Company had coped well so far, preserving the main English presence in Aururia, here in Durigal and Port Percy [Sydney], and mostly with the Kurnawal in the Cider Isle [Tasmania]. But the Oriental Company was always seeking to establish a toehold in the Land of Gold, and this new Seeker gave them a great opportunity to take over the spice trade.
“This Seeker appears to be thinking more about the Five Rivers than other matters of trade. My Company wants to know what Your Majesty would do if he invades there.”
The Regent laughed. “You mean, would I invade there too?”
Groom nodded, then remembered his advice about customs here and changed it to a shake of his head.
“Why would I interfere with such a struggle? Let this savage pagan and the Five Rivers bleed each other to ruin. I hope that their warfare is long and bloody. No threat to the Land can come from that, and if they weaken each other too far, easy enough to reclaim some territory in the aftermath.”
Groom said, “I have heard that you are bolstering the armies of the Land.”
“That is true.”
“Why then, if not to regain lands from the Five Rivers?” And regain control of the port of Jugara [Victor Harbor], the key link for most of the trade which came out of that rich land.
“I do not intend to strike north, but south.”
“South?” Groom asked, suspecting the meaning, but wanting to hear it confirmed.
The Regent smiled. “Time to strike at the Tjunini on the Cider Isle. They have gold in abundance, and will be easier to rule than the frontiers of the Copper Coast, which my predecessors have never controlled for more than a generation at a time.”
And will also threaten the Kurnawal there who look to us... though it may be worth trading their interest for direct control via Durigal.
The Regent continued, “I wish your Company to supply me with ships and crews, for a fair price, so that we may cross the Narrow Sea [Bass Strait] and bring the Cider Isle under my rule.”
“That many ships would be expensive, even at a fair price per ship.”
“More expensive than your rival Company would demand?” the Regent asked.
Groom had to stop himself from wincing. This Regent was blunt, not to mention acutely aware of the Company’s greatest fear. “I will send a message to Bombay, with my support for this proposal.”
* * *
Taken from: The True History of the Yalatji: Translation and Commentary, Heron Publishing, 2nd edition.
English translation by IM Donne.
With the Kuyal now welcomed into the Dominion, the Raw Men trading companies who desired spices could no longer find them elsewhere. The merchants of France had already recognised the Hunter’s vision and reached agreements for trade. In his magnanimity, the Hunter had permitted the treacherous Nuttana to trade at Mullumba [Petrie, QLD] for spices and other goods, but continued to bar them from the rest of the Dominion.
The traders of England and Holland had been granted trade at some specified times and places, but never a lasting agreement, because they continued to refuse to recognise that the Nuttana were within the Hunter’s sphere of influence, and thus traded with the Nuttana. The Hunter determined that the men of England be shown the strength of the Dominion, but that they did not deserve the glory of conquering them himself. While he gathered his main armies for invasion of the Five Rivers, the Hunter also ordered that Nowenrat take his warband and the Fifth Goannas, known as the Burning Mouths, and march on Port Percy...
* * *
18 August 1718
Kinhung, Province of Kuyal [Maitland, Hunter Valley]
Dominion of Harmony
Nowenrat knew that he was the greatest of the Warego save for the Hunter himself. He could ride to battle or the hunt with equal skill, and his men would follow him through uttermost darkness if he gave the order. His warband had earned the nickname the Sapphires because they had been critical in conquering the Southern Germlands, and they had served well during the latest Yaluma which culminated in the conquest of Murrginhi.
So now he found himself wondering why he was being kept from the renewed Yaluma for so long. Murrginhi was conquered, its armies submitted, with those judged worthy admitted into the Goanna battalions, with the rest dead or paroled. The Hunter had declared that the warbands should move west across the mountains, to begin the march into the Five Rivers.
Most of the senior Warego had already gone west. Only Nowenrat and Malligo remained, and that outland Warego only barely counted as senior anyway. It was reasonable for him to remain here to occupy the Kuyal until it was deemed safe enough to leave its rule to the newly-appointed governor.
But why am I being kept here? He deserved to be marching into the Five Rivers with the rest, to join the conquest of the greatest enemy of the Dominion. Instead, he and his warband had been kept back here. The Hunter himself had departed a half-cycle [six days] before, and still Nowenrat had been given no instructions to march west.
So he had been left living in the former king’s palace, now the governor’s residence, without even any authority to command the new governor. Surely I cannot have displeased the Hunter?
A polite cough interrupted his musing. He turned to see Malligo, who gave a slight bow. Nowenrat still thought that Malligo should never have been declared a Warego, as he was both an outlander and unaccomplished in battle. Yet the man did know his place, acknowledging the better vision of the other Warego.
“What brings you here?” Nowenrat asked, keeping his tone pleasant.
“I have a message to deliver,” Malligo said, and handed over a letter.
Nowenrat unsealed the letter and read it quickly. It was from the Hunter, and gave a simple message: go conquer the Inglidj in Port Percy. It also gave him command over the Fifth Goanna battalion to support his warband.
“Do you know what this letter says?”
“I have not read it, but can guess: teach the Inglidj a lesson.”
A hundred questions formed in Nowenrat’s mouth. The first one which escaped was, “How did you know that?”
“I did not know, but I suspected. He would only give you a letter like that if it was an order to battle. It could not be for the west, for the Hunter has gone there himself and could have taken you with him. Where else does that leave but the Inglidj to the south?”
“Why did the High Warego not give me the instructions himself?”
Malligo shrugged. “He did not explain it to me, but I think that he wanted to make sure that the Inglidj did not know you were coming. The Kuyal is close to their lands, and they have traded here by land and sea. Who can say who they have watching here?”
“He still could have told me himself.”
“Too many eyes in Kinhung,” Malligo said. “If he had met with you alone, men might have seen and wondered. This way, it appears that your forces are here simply to watch the Patjimunra in case anyone tries to rebel.”
“Did he give you that letter?”
“No, a servant gave me that letter with instructions to deliver it to you six days after the Hunter had departed.”
Nowenrat fell silent for a moment, as plans began to form in his head about how he should conquer the Inglidj. He knew very little about the country there; previous raids had never gone so far. He would need information and supplies, and-
Malligo said, “Does the Hunter command that I join you?”
Nowenrat glanced back at the letter. “No.”
“Then I will keep the Harmony Battalion in the Kuyal until he commands otherwise. But if you wish, I can advise what I know Port Percy and its environs.”
“Do so.”
“Port Percy is said to be a great harbour, which is why the Inglidj chose it. The harbour is on the edge of Werrimatta, a region of fertile lowlands which are ringed by hills and mountains [Cumberland Plains / Sydney basin]. The Putanjura live there, subjects to the Inglidj. The main Inglidj town is at the head of that harbour [Parramatta], so the Inglidj can come by sea.”
“How passable is the land between here and Werrimatta?”
“There are many hills, and the Darkingai [Hawkesbury River] is a wide river which must be crossed by boat save in its uppermost reaches. The Inglidj have built one road that runs between, but they will be watching it closely.”
“Hmm. Can they be approached from the west?”
“It would be a long way around, and the mountains there are said to be very difficult to cross. The only good road runs far to the southwest, and is used by Yigutjians from time to time.” Malligo paused for a long moment, then said,” But there might be a better choice.”
“Explain.”
“There is a town, Marrug [Gosford], which sits on a bay that connects to the mouth of the Darkingai. The Hunter has claimed it for the Dominion, following Murrginhi’s old claim, but our armies have not yet visited there.”
“How does that help?”
“The men there are good boat-builders, and fish along the Darkingai and out to sea. You could bring your warband there and bring them to submission... and capture their boats to ferry your warband across the mouth of the Darkingai. The Inglidj will not be expecting an invasion there.”
Nowenrat rubbed his chin. “A good thought.”
* * *
In another history it would be called Sydney. Founded on the far side of the world as a dumping ground for Britain’s unwanted; a way to get its undesirables as far from its shores as possible.
The first penal colony was established near the mouth of the harbour which the colonists called Port Jackson, but they found that the soil there was so sandy and unsuitable that they could not feed themselves. The original colony site was maintained, and called Sydney, but farms were quickly set up at the head of navigation of the river which connected to the harbour [Parramatta River]. That town, called Parramatta, was the early source of food for the colonists. The region consisted of lowlands which were called the Cumberland Plains, surrounded by more rugged territory to north and south and higher mountains to the west. Over time, most of those lowlands were converted first to agriculture and then to the sprawling suburbs of Sydney.
In this history, these lowlands were called Werrimatta, a region occupied by small city-states built by the peoples called Putanjura and Rrunga. The Raw Men first established a presence in 1646 when the English East India Company founded a trading outpost on the shores of the harbour they called Port Percy, and a town they built with the same name [Parramatta]. They came at a time when diseases were causing immense social disruption to the peoples of Werrimatta, and indeed all of Aururia. The Company armed and supported the Putanjura during this time, who in turn drove the Rrunga north out of Werrimatta.
Since that time, Port Percy remained in Company hands, except for some brief occupations during the Anglo-Dutch Wars. However, while it was established as a trading post, it did not return a great profit. Port Percy was just far enough south to be troubled by occasional frosts which hampered cultivation of the more valuable spices. The region of Werrimatta grew small amounts of common sweet peppers and jeeree, though these were available in many other locations. The local EIC factors traded with the Putanjura for the plentiful supplies of food, and then used these to allow the outpost to function as a victualling station for visiting ships. They did experiment with raising a few sheep for wool, but had to stop after the local Putanjura complained that the sheep destroyed their crops (murnong), and took to killing sheep on sight.
Port Percy did eventually offer an unexpected trade opportunity. Company officials travelled around the fringes of Werrimatta, mostly finding little to interest them, but they noted that the region they called the Blue Highlands [Southern Highlands, NSW] offered a route into the interior. In time, the demand for sweet peppers grew ever greater. Since sweet peppers grew more readily in the highland climate, the Company constructed a road into the Blue Highlands as far as the outpost they called Inverness [Bowral], to allow for their cultivation and collection.
The Company highland presence did not go unnoticed to other peoples further inland. The kingdom of Yigutji [Wagga Wagga] had long had occasional contacts with the peoples of the highlands, and made some efforts to trade with the Company for desired European goods. This trade route thus linked Yigutji linked to Port Percy, but it never attained a high volume of trade, as the cost of transport by land was far higher than the cost of exporting goods downriver to Tjibarr.
Port Percy also served one other useful purpose: it was conveniently close to the Kuyal and its spices. The Company traded there regularly, mostly by sea, although there was enough contact by land that in time they built a road to the Darkingai, then a ferry, to facilitate land visits. They did not go to the expense of building fortifications along that route; their main fortifications were beside the town of Port Percy itself, and at the two headlands which guarded the harbour.
In short, Port Percy had developed into a minor but useful outpost for the EIC. It was unfortunate for them, then, that they did not fully consider the consequences of angering the Hunter.
The Hunter’s initial rapid expansion down the eastern coast of Aururia had caused growing alarm for the Company’s directors, though this was largely based on fear for loss of access to spices. With the pause of the Consolidation and the example of how the Hunter had re-opened some trade with the Nuttana, they assumed that in time he could be negotiated with to re-open trade. As such, they did not commence any extensive preparations for further expansion.
This meant that the resumption of conquest in the Fourth Yaluma caught them by surprise. They despatched a force of one thousand Company guards from India to bolster the defences of Port Percy. The local governor at Port Percy welcomed these arrivals, and took some further comfort from the news that the Dominion forces were moving west across the mountains to pursue further conquests in the interior.
So the governor received a complete shock at the news that Dominion forces had crossed the Darkingai and were now advancing toward Port Percy at considerable speed. The local Putanjura made no effort to hinder Nowenrat’s advance, instead adopting an attitude of cautious neutrality.
The governor faced two unpalatable choices. On the one hand, he could attempt to meet the Dominion forces in open battle. That was an uncertain prospect since including the recent arrivals, his available soldiers numbered around 1500, all but a handful of which were infantry. The reports being received were that the Dominion forces were larger, and around half cavalry.
On the other hand, it appeared that the advancing forces had little or no artillery. He had the option of withdrawing into Fort Percy with relative security and sending a ship to request reinforcements from Durigal. That would, however, leave the Dominion forces free to plunder the town of Port Percy and probably all of Werrimatta. Given the Dominion’s record further north, there was also the risk that they could sway the Putanjura to longer-term revolt against Company authority.
The governor decided that choosing battle on good defensive ground was the better option, or more precisely the less bad option. The timeframe for relief was uncertain, and his reputation would suffer almost as badly from being trapped in siege as it would by being defeated by a more numerous force. His commander chose a site northeast of Port Percy, in a region known as the Oatlands, named for the eponymous crops which were cultivated there to feed the town [4].
Unfortunately for the governor, the reports of the Dominion forces in fact underestimated their strength. Nowenrat’s cavalry alone numbered more than 1500, and the Fifth Goannas numbered nearly twice that. What became known as the Battle of Oatlands saw Nowenrat adopt a simple but effective plan of outflanking the English defensive position with both infantry and cavalry. The result turned into a rout, with three hundred Company soldiers dead and over a thousand captured.
In keeping with the Hunter’s past practice, Nowenrat ordered that the captives be paroled when relief Company ships arrived. In the meantime, he sent his cavalry on a grand ride around the Werrimatta, emulating what the Hunter had done to the Kiyungu several years before, and won the submission of the Putanjura.
Soon after the last of the Company captives had been paroled to visiting ships, a further letter came over the mountains from the west. This letter stated that the Hunter had defeated an army of allied Five Rivers’ soldiers, and invited Nowenrat to leave a garrison of whatever size he deemed appropriate for the security of the new acquisition, and bring the rest of his forces to join the march against the capital of Yigutji.
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[1] Effectively the English East India Company’s ambassador to the Yadji.
[2] Dogport (Port Augusta, South Australia) is the centre of the Tjibarri brass industry.
[3] Historically, Bombay (now Mumbai) was a strategic port which had been seized by the Portuguese but which the EIC greatly desired due to its excellent harbour and relative safety from land attack. They manoeuvred for Bombay to be made part of the dowry of Catherine of Braganza when she married Charles II of England in 1661, and then the EIC took control.
Allohistorically, the EIC desire for Bombay remains strong, even though there was no equivalent marriage. Portugal faced greater difficulty attaining de jure independence from Spain, since Spain had not had the same destructive Franco-Spanish War of 1638-1659. The EIC negotiated for Portugal to concede Bombay to England in 1668 in exchange for English support in forcing Spain to recognise Portuguese independence.
[4] By coincidence, this is a region which is historically known as Oatlands too (now a suburb of Sydney), although the historical suburb took its name instead from Oatlands Park in Britain. The allohistorical region known as the Oatlands is also somewhat larger than the historical suburb.
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Thoughts?