A Body in the Parlour

The house was quiet; the only sound to be heard was that of a woman softly crying.  John was lying in state in the parlour, the door closed, and solemnness resounded around the house.

He had spent the day working around his the property, mending fences, and herding cattle to paddocks with better feed.  The last chore of the day was the milking of the dairy herd, relieving them of their heavy load of milk.  He had fashioned a wooden stool cut from recently felled trees to sit on while he hand-milked the cattle.  Some found it a laborious task, but he enjoyed the quietness of the dairy as he mused about his future with his lively red-haired lass, Millie.

John McCarthy was born in Ireland in 1864, a son of a farmer, and immigrated to Australia in 1890 with his sisters Nellie and Mary, and three brothers Martin, Stephen and Patrick.

On that very same vessel bringing John and his family to Australia was another Irish lad, Danny Kelly, dreaming of a better life in a distant land. 

John’s sister Nellie found employment at Gowrie Homestead, one of the magnificent homesteads in the district, and she often spoke with pride describing her position with “I was chief parlour maid.  I held the keys”!!!

Each year, during the season, Danny would go off shearing, travelling from shed to shed with the other teams of shearers.  It was during one of these trips through the area he would stop at Gowrie Station for water.  And stopping too at the kitchen door he came to know the delightful Nellie McCarthy, who no doubt told him a tale or two, as she was wont to do.  Danny’s courting days came to an end at the High Altar of St Stephen’s Cathedral early in 1894 when he took Nellie McCarthy to be his bride. 

They built a grand house, with a big kitchen and stately parlour, the Old Queenslander, on the banks of the Agricultural Reserve. 

John lived with Danny and Nellie and their family, but was keen to settle down with the love of his life, Millie, when they had saved enough money to buy their own farm.

When John finished his chores for the day, he quickly gulped his dinner down, and set out for the local pub. 

He was well known there for his fiery temper, especially after a few beers and rum chasers.  The publican was his brother Pat, who, with his thick brown hair, beard and whiskers, was a formidable looking character behind the bar.  Regardless of the fact that John was his brother, he had warned him several times if he continued on with his riotous behaviour in the bar, he would not be welcome.

This night, however, he seemed in a jovial mood.  He had plans to marry, settle down and raise a family, giving up his carousing ways.

The bar was full of roustabouts, shearers who had been working on the outlying stations, and ready for a “big drink” at the local pub.  They had plenty of money to splash around, and were planning to drink till they dropped!!

The shearers were shouting drinks for everyone at the bar, and the noisy boisterous bunch were determined everyone should join them in their drinking frenzy.

John was keeping to himself this night, having a few bears to gather up the courage to “pop the question” to the love of his life, Millie.  He was not interested in a long drinking night which would end in his staggering home in a drunken state. 

The shearers seemed to take offence that he would not drink with them.  He tried to explain he was just there for one or two beers, just enough to give him the courage to ask Millie to marry him.    

One of the shearers did not seem to want to take “no” for an answer and keep harassing him, till his fiery temper burst out.

A scuffle had broken out, John was sure he could handle himself, as he had been in many a punch-up before and always came out on top.

But this time, the shearer was too good for him, and a few well aimed strikes to his abdomen floored him, taking his breath away.

John slowly raised himself from the floor, but the fighter was now past caring, the beers and rum had taken hold of him, and although his mates tried to stop him, he pounded John with more jabs to his body. 

When John felt he could take no more, he looked squarely into the eyes of his abuser, and felt the shearer’s fist crashing into his face, resulting in a fatal blow as he fell to the floor.

John’s last thoughts were of his Millie, waiting for him, to start planning the rest of their lives together.

The shearer, seeing that he had done mortal damage to his opponent, quickly ran from the pub, through the bush in the direction of shearing sheds with his mates not far behind him, disappearing into the night.

The doctor was called, but he could see John’s life had ebbed away as his head had hit the floor; there was nothing he could do for him.

The police were called, and sadly the constable on duty that night was John’s brother Martin.  When reaching the pub, he was met with a distraught Pat, who told him of the vicious fight that had taken place a short while ago, and the outcome.  Martin knew the young shearer they spoke about, a fiery young lad from Dublin who had been in many a fracas around the district.  He vowed to pursue him and arrest him for the murder of this gentle young man.  If he was found guilty of the murder of John McCarthy, his life would finish on the end of the hangmen’s rope.  Two lives ruined for the sake of a couple of drinks.

A message was sent to Danny and Nellie that a fight had broken out at the pub, and John had been fatally injured.

Danny went in haste to the pub, to be met with a frightful sight, Nellie’s brother John, lying in a pool of blood on the wooden floorboards of the pub.  He was visibly distraught, and vowed to find the young shearer that had dealt that mortal blow. 

Martin could see no good would come of Danny riding off into the night, in search of John’s killer.  Danny needed to take John home to be with his sister Nellie, and he would take care of the pursuit of the shearer.

Danny and Pat carried John’s body home to the Old Queenslander, to lie in state, till the funeral could be arranged. 

Messages were sent to John’s sister Mary who ran a boarding house in the town, and his brother Steve, who owned the adjoining property to Danny and Nellie. 

Danny took on the unenviable task of telling Millie what had happened.  She broke down, weeping tears of regret for the life she and John had planned, but would now never happen.

Martin immediately went to the shearers shed in search of the culprit who had been involved in the bar fight.  He was nowhere to be found, but was told the frightened shearer had run into the shed, packed his belongings, and fled towards the railway station.   

Martin knew there were no trains going through the town till morning, so headed his horse towards the station, confident he would be able to arrest the shearer before he left town.  It was not long till he rode into the railing siding, and quietly hid behind some bushes, waiting for the shearer to arrive.  He did not have long to wait and, seeing him coming along the tracks, tackled him without too much trouble.  He quickly put him in handcuffs, and led him back to the station, to answer the charge of murder against his brother John.

As was the case in those early days in Australia, John’s funeral was held the next day.  He was laid to rest in the shadow of a palm tree at the local cemetery, where, in future years, Danny and Nellie, John’s brothers Steve, Martin and Pat, and sister Mary would lay together.  In life, their lives were so entwined; it is only natural that their last resting place should be together.

Previous
Previous

The Unbearable Wonder of Being Yourself

Next
Next

A hero to One