‘Prisoner Colbert,’ says Maconochie, approaching Jacques-L ouis in the
garden. ‘May I have a word?’
The morning is warm and overcast. Jacques-Louis Colbert lays aside his
gardening tools and removes the cap on his head. He stands with his head
bowed, wordless.
‘I have received a letter from a friend in Van Diemen’ s Land,’ the
Commandant says. ‘He tells me that an acquaintance of mine, a significant
man, a member of the Legislati ve Council there and the director of one of
the two colonial banks, is seeking a winemaker . Swanston is his name and
he himself included a note asking me if there is any prisone r with such
knowledge within this populatio n. Someone who is of good character and
might soon complete their sentence. It is an unusual request but naturally I
could not help but think of you.’
Jacques-Louis’ head remains bowed and he says nothing.
‘I will be gone within the month,’ Maconochie continues. ‘My
r eplacement is a Jos eph Childs. They are determined to return this place to
the hellhole it was when I arrived. I fear that, when I leave, you will be
returned to the general population.’
‘Yes, Commandant.’
‘I have been considering requesting a pardon for you. I know you have
not expected it, yet ...’
‘I do not ask it, Commandant.’
‘Colbert, you could become a winemaker! Not in France, where I fear
you will never return, but in Van Diemen’ s Land. It is an extraordinary
opportunity , and I know you have the skills. What say you, man?’
‘I do not know , Commandant.’
‘What is in my power to give, I have given,’ says Maconoch ie. ‘You
have seen this in my time here. You have encouraged me in my
commitment to bring these men back to their humanity , their sense of
worth.’
Jacques-Louis remains unmoving.
‘Colbert ... Jacques-Louis!’ says Maconochie, grasping the man’s hand,
attempting to gaze into the prisoner’s downcast eyes. ‘I seek to lift you up.
Call me not Commandant! Call me Alexander . You and I have sat more
evenings in conversation than I have with some of my closest friends. You,
Colbert, are my proof of salvatio n for the convicted man. Look at what you
have done with the gardens here. See how the vineyard grows! Van
Diemen’ s Land is a beautiful place and I have seen the property where you
will work. It is as fine as any in the colony, as fine as you might find in
England. I assure you that this is a moment of renewal for you that neither
of us could have imagined. The work of an angelic hand.’
‘If angels work to influence a man, then what say you of demons, sir?’
Jacques-Louis asks.
‘But give a man the chance to live well, to be held in some esteem, and I
believe those demons in a man will be subsumed by goodness. I do not
doubt it, Colbert. I do not doubt it in you! I will continue to argue that life
does not apportion favour equally, and on that we can agree. A man fails
through his s eparation, his alienation, from himself. Arts, education,
agriculture and prayer, these inspire the good within us and lead us back to
grace. You have seen it amongst the men here. I state only what is obvious
to us both.’
‘You have more faith in goodness than any man I have ever
encountered, sir ,’ says Jacques-Louis.
‘I make no excuses for you,’ r eplies Maconochie. ‘But I firmly believe
that you are a man who will serve society better doing what you so
naturally do with all that grows, not here under the authority of Jos eph
Childs, who will almost certainly return you to the breaking and carrying of
rock, and worse.’
He pauses and waits until Jacques-Louis meets his gaze. ‘I have
complete faith in the further reclamation of your soul, Colbert. Allow me to
recommend you!’