The Exiles

A petite young Scottish woman of only 16, Hazel’s fiery copper hair defines her personality. She is resilient to the actions and degradations of men and refuses to listen to those who believe they are superior to her. Hazel knows her worth, even as society condemns her as worthless. She is “the only spot of color in the drab scene” (114), a description that directly addresses her hair but also defines her personality. Though she is not book-smart in terms of her education, like Evangeline is, she has learned through living, a feat that puts her on par with the ship surgeon, Doctor Dunne. She is a survivor, always staying on guard and on her feet against any type of trouble, from stealing the small silver knife to stealing herbs from the kitchen for poultices. In emergencies, she carries “an air of practiced attentiveness that [gives] her an unexpected authority” (139), and it is an authority that even Doctor Dunne heeds. She sees Evangeline for who she truly is, and even though she does not agree with some of Evangeline’s predilections—the keeping of the handkerchief, for example—she understands an individual’s right to live their own life. It is Hazel who Evangeline entrusts with her daughter’s life—in fact, Evangeline’s last words to Hazel are: “Look after my daughter while I’m gone” (169).

Hazel comes from a rough past, but she does not let it interfere with her future. Though her mother failed her, she chooses not to fail Evangeline’s child, stepping in and raising Ruby as her own. Her strength and sacrifice protect the young child from her birth onward, and it is Hazel’s quick thinking at the climactic moment of the novel—when Buck tries to kidnap and kill the girl—that saves Ruby’s life. Though she did not give birth to Ruby, she is part of the group who raises her and gives meaning to Ruby’s life.

As the daughter of the tribal chieftain, Mathinna’s life comes with a certain tinge of privilege—until she is taken in by the Franklins. The Aborigine girl, only eight years old, knows more as a “savage” than any of the “civilized” British can fathom. The wild lands of Australia, seen to the British elite as something to conquer, speaks to her as her homeland. Where the Franklins and Robinsons speak and dress in ways that are out of place to Australia, Mathinna is symbolic of the country itself—she is the original part of Australia that is forced to the side to make way for the British Empire to thrive. Her forced assimilation—being taken from her home at age three to “wear bonnets and dresses with buttons and taught [how] to read and write in English” (3) represents the total and complete erasure of the Aborigine people.

Though Mathinna tries to keep her own identity through her assimilation, Lady Jane controls Mathinna’s every thought and desire. The seizure of Mathinna’s necklaces, coupled with the killing of her pet possum by a politician’s dog, represent the finality of Mathinna’s heritage. She cannot overcome the forced assimilation. As time goes on, she loses her identity and sense of self. When the Franklins abandon her, she finds herself adrift without a home; she cannot return to Flinders, and she cannot assimilate in a society that judges her for the color of her skin. Her tale is tragic, perhaps the most tragic in the novel, and her inability to overcome the ruination of the Franklins symbolizes the damaging effect of colonization. Through her young life, she shares a vision of who the Palawa people once were; as her story comes to a close, she represents the end of her people’s story.

The rambunctious Olive is a large, ruddy-faced woman in her 30s who befriends Evangeline first at Newgate Prison and then on the Medea. Blond-haired and not very attractive, it is her vivaciousness and spirit that aid Evangeline. By profession, she is a sex worker who killed the father of her baby for nonpayment. She teases Evangeline for being proud and book-smart but tells it like it is—Evangeline is in this predicament because she is too naive and trusting. Olive is as rough around the edges as the men on the ship and often engages in banter that qualms the men’s sexual advances. She says things that people only think and has no problem calling out Evangeline for her preferences.

Though Olive is coarse and rebellious, she comes through for Hazel when Ruby needs a wet nurse shortly after Evangeline’s death and then again at the nursery in Hobart Town. During the last half of the novel, Olive is often off the pages but not very far from the action—in fact, she plays a large role in warning Hazel about Buck’s threats of revenge. Through Ruby’s voice at the end, it is clear that Olive continued to play a role in raising Ruby by telling her stories about her biological mother and their travels together on the Medea. Olive is one of the many women who Ruby accredits with shaping the woman she becomes.

Though a child for most of the text, the most compelling entry in the novel is the final chapter, which finds an adult Ruby returning to London to face her biological father. As a child, Ruby merely exists as a motive for Hazel to continue living, but it is her redemption of her biological mother at the end that shapes Ruby’s destiny. She represents the second generation of women in the novel and the future of women altogether. Evangeline, Hazel, and Mathinna all face discrimination for their race, gender, and social status. Ruby represents the new world where women have a voice. She fully embodies the symbols of the tree rings and the shell necklaces—she is the thread, and all the people who have shaped her life make up the rings and the shells, reminding her that she is nothing without them.

As the surgeon on board the Medea, Doctor Dunne handles all medical cases arising from the dirty, squalid conditions—including the bastard children born while at sea. He is young, “perhaps in his late twenties” (109), but he is a welcome contrast to the harsh, sexual bravado of the men on deck—rather, Doctor Dunne is kind and open-minded. He sees in Evangeline a woman who has been dealt an unlucky hand and helps her as much as he can. She sees a kindred spirit in him as well based on the books, especially Shakespeare, that line the shelves in his office: “This [is] a man she might’ve been acquainted with in her previous life” (109). However, when confronted with Hazel’s controversial healing style, he becomes momentarily arrogant, as she has not had the training he has had. Like Evangeline, he relies on his background and education initially, which make him feel superior to others. He soon learns that the old status quo has no place on board the ship.

His gender might give him certain privileges, but Dunne quickly overcomes them, choosing instead to work alongside Hazel once he sees how intelligent she is. It is he who rescues Ruby from the orphanage when her life is in danger, and as time goes on, he overcomes his arrogance and disbelief toward Hazel’s healing powers. Though his part is understated compared to Evangeline, Hazel, and Mathinna, Ruby’s life depends on him numerous times, therefore, he is an unforgettable part of her life.

Maeve is an older midwife whom Hazel meets at the Cascades. Their initial bond over medicine and healing gives way to a type of mother-daughter relationship, and Maeve naturally falls into the instructive position Hazel’s mother once held. It is Maeve who teaches Hazel about the herbs and plants native to Australia—especially the Angel’s trumpet, which Hazel uses to kill Buck and save Ruby later in the novel. Much like Olive, Maeve is a rebellious and outspoken woman who pays the price for standing up for others, but her importance as a mother figure to both Hazel and Ruby cannot be ignored.

The young man who sweeps Evangeline off her feet and promises her the world does so with “brown eyes [that] were lively and curious” (23) and treats her “as if they were old friends” (25), standing “closer to her than felt quite proper” (26). Evangeline foolishly believes that Cecil, though he is of a far greater social status, could love her. He makes her believe that he “[doesn’t] give a fig about his family’s expectations for him or society’s silly moral judgments” (17). His denial of their love—and of his child—sets the story into motion. He is the only one who can save her, but he doesn’t—and a quarter century later, his amends are too late with Ruby.

Like the men Olive talks about, Cecil’s interest in Evangeline was purely sexual—he knew that he could never be with a woman of her social status, but it did not stop him from using her. Therefore, Cecil represents the ultimate patriarchy in Victorian England: the wealthy man who never faces responsibility for his choices.