[Sidenote: THE CONVICT SETTLEMENT]

We were taken to see the chief buildings of the Convict Settlement, which appeared to be large and well planned, but one had rather a painful shock when the first object pointed out was the site of the guillotine.

Naturally the convicts were divided into different cla.s.ses. We entered one long building where a number were confined in common, and seemed fairly cheerful, but others were in little separate cells from which they were only brought out, and then alone, for a very short time each day. Some had only a brief period of such solitary confinement, but in one small cell we found a very big man who almost seemed to fill it with his body when he stood up at our entrance. He had been condemned to seven years of this penance for having a.s.saulted a waiter. He implored the Governor either to have him executed at once, or to allow him a little more liberty. I backed up his plea, and M. Laffon promised some consideration, which I trust was effectual.

The worst thing we saw was the lunatics' prison, inhabited by men who had gone mad since their arrival in the Island. One man had a most refined and intellectual head; he had been a distinguished lawyer at Lyons and was transported for having killed a man who, if I recollect rightly, had been his sister's lover. No wonder that shame, exile, and his surroundings had driven him mad. Another was much happier; he was quite harmless, and was allowed to wander about and indulge his mania, which was the decoration of the little chapel. I have no reason at all to think that the convicts were ill-treated, but we did not see the place where the worst criminals were confined, and one of the French ladies mysteriously remarked, "Ils ont des temps durs ceux-la."

I always feel, however, that philanthropists who are ready to condemn the treatment of convicts in any part of the world fail to realise the difficulty of keeping order amongst large bodies of men, most of whom, at all events, have criminal instincts. The heroes of novels and plays who undergo such imprisonment are almost invariably represented as unjustly convicted, probably scapegoats for real criminals, and all our sympathy is evoked on their behalf. No doubt, particularly in the early days of Australia, there were many cruelties and much undue severity, but the comparatively few officers and men who were put to guard and govern ma.s.ses of criminals had no easy task. They were far removed from any possibility of summoning help in cases of mutiny, and probably many of them deteriorated mentally and physically through much anxiety and the hardships which they themselves had to encounter.

[Sidenote: CONVICTS IN FORMER DAYS]

On the other hand, I heard many authentic stories in Australia of the kind treatment and good behaviour of the convicts who were sent out from England for slight offences, and who became steady and law-abiding settlers, and were particularly careful in the education and upbringing of their children. One gentleman told me of a dentist who refused a fee for treating him because his father, who had been an official in convict days, had been so good to the dentist's ticket-of-leave family. Of course it seems very hard of our ancestors to have transported men and women for stealing bread or poaching, and I am not justifying the penal laws of the eighteenth century, but being what they were I am not at all sure that the majority of those who were sent to Australia were not better off than they would have been shut up in the prisons of those days in England, and certainly their children had a much better start in life. I believe that the great hardship was the voyage out in a slow sailing ship, overcrowded, with little fresh air and the constant risk of food and water running short. Once landed, there were many chances of prosperity for the well-behaved. I say nothing of the real black sheep who were relegated to Port Arthur or Norfolk Island. It is a mercy to think that those days are past and over.

To return to New Caledonia. There were elaborate arrangements for work in the nickel mines, and as a.s.signed servants to free settlers whom the French Government were very anxious to plant on the land. I do not think that they were very successful in inducing large numbers to undertake the long voyage, though there were a few Bretons on our ship. A good many Australians, however, were established in trade in Noumea.

Words fail to do justice to the kindness of the New Caledonian French--they made every exertion to render us happy, and completely succeeded. When we left they robbed their Museum of a whole collection of native curiosities which they put on board ship with us, despite our protestations. One quaint incident perhaps deserves record. Just as we departed I received an imposing-looking missive written in flowery English, which proved to be a letter from a French poilu. He informed me that he had been in Australia and had there married a girl whose name he gave me. She was then living in Victoria, and if I remember rightly was half Belgian, half British. A small child had been the offspring of the union, but "France had called on him to serve," and though his time of service overseas was nearly up, and though he wished to return to Australia to "stand by his wife," France saw otherwise and proposed to ship him back to Ma.r.s.eilles; he was in despair until I had appeared "like a star of hope upon the horizon."

When we were back at Sydney I wrote to the Charity Organization at Melbourne asking if they could find out anything about the lady. Oddly enough she was actually employed in the C.O.S. Office, and was said to be quite respectable, though there appeared to have been a little informality about the "marriage lines."

I then wrote to the very amiable French Colonel at Noumea and asked whether under the circ.u.mstances he could see his way to letting the lovelorn swain return to Australia instead of to France. With prompt courtesy he granted my request, and named some approximate date for the man's arrival in Melbourne. Thereupon I wrote a further letter to the C.O.S., asking that they would be prepared for a marriage ceremony about which there should, this time, be no mistake. The end of the romance, at all events of this chapter, was that I received a gushing epistle of grat.i.tude signed by "two young hearts," or words to that effect, "made for ever happy." I never saw the youth and maiden whom I had thus been instrumental in launching among the eddies and currents of matrimony, but I trust that the little girl was sufficient to justify a somewhat blind experiment.

[Sidenote: DEATH OF LORD ANCRAM]

A great tragedy threw a shadow over our sojourn in N.S.W.

One of our aides-de-camp was Lord Ancram, elder son of Lord Lothian, and a particularly attractive young man. He was a great favourite in Sydney and much in request at gatherings of every description, being good-looking and having charming manners. In June 1892 he and my brother were invited to join a shooting party in the country. He went off in high spirits, and when he came to say good-bye to me, knowing him to be rather delicate, I cautioned him to be sure and put some kind of bedding under as well as over him if sleeping out at night. This he promised to do. I never saw him again. It was customary in Australia to shoot riding. He and his companions got off their horses for luncheon, and put their guns on the ground. On remounting one of the party seems to have picked up a loaded gun in mistake for his own which he had discharged. Handled incautiously this gun went off, and poor Ancram was shot through the head, dying instantaneously. I shall never forget the universal sorrow not only in Government House, but among the whole warm-hearted community of New South Wales. It was some comfort that the Admiral commanding the Station, Lord Charles Scott, was Ancram's uncle, and he and his nice wife were able to help, and advise as to the best means of breaking the news to the poor parents and relatives in England.

Poor George Goschen, who was devoted to Ancram, was almost prostrated by grief. It was rather curious that not very long before the accident Ancram told me that he had dreamt that he found himself back in his old home, but that his brother had taken his place and that n.o.body recognised him or took any notice of him!

Treasures of the Old World are sometimes found at the Antipodes. On one of our tours, at a township called Bungendore, a large wooden box appeared unexpectedly in our private railway car. Opened, it was found to contain a letter from a Mr. Harold Mapletoft Davis explaining that he confided to our care relics from Little Gidding, brought from England long before by his parents. His mother, Miss Mapletoft, was directly descended from Dr.

Mapletoft and from his wife, the only Miss Colet who married. In the box were a copy of the famous _Harmonies_, and bound volumes of ma.n.u.script writings by Mary Colet and her sisters. The fine binding of _The Harmonies_, now in the British Museum, was said to have been executed by Mary Colet herself; she did not die young as represented in "John Inglesant," but lived to a good old age. There was also a lovely Charles I embroidered miniature chest of drawers, containing a boar's tooth, a handkerchief with the royal monogram, and other relics. Charles I left this at Little Gidding during his troubles. It was ultimately purchased by Queen Victoria, and is now at Windsor.

CHAPTER XIII

TONGA AND SAMOA

Not long after our return from New Caledonia I set sail again, this time to take advantage of an invitation from the Britannic Land Commissioner to stay with him at his house in Samoa. My brother Rupert Leigh and my daughter Margaret accompanied me on the Norddeutscher Lloyd mail-ship _Lubeck_. The Germans subsidised the line, but it was, I understood, run at a regular loss. We left on August 3rd, and encountered very rough weather, seas sweeping over the bridge, and even invading our cabins.

Captain Mentz was very kind, installed us in his own quarters, and did his best to find food which Margaret and I could eat despite sea-sickness. I must say this for him, although he was a German!

We pa.s.sed Norfolk Island, but did not land anywhere until we reached Nekualofa, the chief town of the Tongan group, which consists of about 100 islands and atolls. Tonga, like every island in the Pacific of which I ever heard, has its own particular quarrels and politics. It was governed at the time of our visit by an ancient potentate called King George, after George III of England. His wife had been Queen Charlotte, but she had died.

The hero, or rather villain, of recent Tongan history was one Shirley Baker, a Wesleyan missionary with the aspirations of a Richelieu or Mazarin. He belonged to the Wesleyan Church of Australia, which had previously become independent of the Mother Church in England. Shirley Baker, however, having made himself Prime Minister of Tonga, did not care to take orders even from Australia, but persuaded the dusky monarch that the right and proper thing was to have a Free Methodist Church of his own.

This would not have mattered, but the inhabitants were all compelled to belong to this new connexion, and beaten and imprisoned if they wished to adhere to what was presumably the Church of their baptism. Other trifling accusations, such as of poisoning, were brought against this ecclesiastical Prime Minister, and ultimately the British High Commissioner from Fiji had to come down and deport him to New Zealand.

Still, however, as far as we could learn during a brief stay of some twenty-four hours, though there was surface peace, intrigue and suspicion were still rampant.

Even before we landed my brother came to me and said that one of our fellow-pa.s.sengers had warned him that if we paid a visit to King George the missionary interpreter in attendance would probably misrepresent what we had to say to the monarch. "But," added Rupert, "I don't think that we have anything particular to say, have we?" I agreed that I did not think that our communications would vitally affect the peace of the world, or even of the Pacific, so we ventured to enter the royal precincts.

The Palace was a comfortable-looking villa, of which the most striking adornment was a full-length oil-painting of the old German Emperor William, presented to the King for having declared the neutrality of Tonga in the Franco-German War of 1870. The High Commissioner of Fiji had countered this propaganda by presenting an engraving of Queen Victoria, but we were bound to confess, that, being merely head and shoulders, our Sovereign Lady was placed at a disadvantage in the artistic compet.i.tion.

[Sidenote: TONGAN LADIES]

The Tongan ladies were celebrated for their beauty, and we were told that when the Duke of Edinburgh, as Prince Alfred, visited Australia and some places in the Pacific, Tonga was much disappointed because he failed to land on its sh.o.r.es. The inhabitants, however, found balm for their wounded feelings in two explanations offered: first, Queen Victoria was so impressed by the importance of the group that had she sent a representative it must have been her eldest, not her second son; secondly, she had heard so much of the charms of the ladies that she feared lest the Prince should bring back a dusky daughter-in-law if exposed to their wiles. One only wonders why they thought that she should object. The King was a fine old man, and we had no reason to believe that a rather weak-looking missionary gave any serious misconstruction of our conventional remarks. They dealt a good deal with our Queen, and at all events he introduced her name at the right place!

We had a very pretty drive in a vividly green lane, had tea at the hotel, and returned to sleep on board. The real joy, however, was our departure at sunrise next morning. Never before or since have I seen such a glory of colour--St. John may have witnessed something like it when he wrote the Revelation, but I cannot believe that earth contains a rival.

The sun struck the coral reefs through an absolutely calm sea, and its beams were broken up into streams and rivers of crimson, blue, green, and purple, as if a rainbow or the tail of an angelic peac.o.c.k or bird of paradise had fallen into the ocean; nor did the rivers remain unchanged.

At one moment a flood of crimson pa.s.sed by, and if we ran to the other side of the ship, we found that the waters were turning to emerald; they parted and mingled and parted again till we seemed in a fairy world of magic.

We spent much time in the lagoons of Samoa and saw beautiful hues, particularly deep purples, there, but never again the extraordinary beauty of the Tongan archipelago. Behind the ever-changing sea rose a myriad islands crowned with palms and floating in light. My brother asked me if I remembered the little picture in our old Ballantyne's _Coral Island_ of schoolroom days. I had already thought of it, and gratefully felt that at least one dream of childhood had been fulfilled, that I had seen something of what our books had told, though not as the sailor which I had sighed to be.

King George died in the spring after we had made his acquaintance. A prominent resident whom we had met at Nukualofa, Mr. Parker, wrote to describe the honours paid to his memory. He said that he had been for so many years "a leading character for good and bad that his sudden, but on account of his age not unexpected, death caused much commotion."

"However much some of his subjects may have disliked him (or rather his regime) when alive, and with much reason there were many, now that he is dead the respect they show is very striking. The place both day and night is as silent as death, though there is plenty of movement."

On a low white wall surrounding the premises, "at intervals of about one foot there is a lamp placed on the top; and at every few yards of the road a camp of people squat down with torches, and patiently wait for daylight as a sign of respect, and also in all probability to keep evil spirits away, though if asked the watchers would not say so."

The house itself was brilliantly illuminated with hundreds of coloured lamps and paper lanthorns, and within, mats, flowers, and sandal-wood powder were lavished on the dead monarch. Meantime I must return to our voyage.

[Sidenote: ARRIVAL AT APIA]

We landed at Apia, the capital of Samoa, on August 13th, by Sydney calendar. (Samoan was different, as we had crossed 180 longitude, but this is unimportant.) We were met by our kindest of hosts, Mr. Bazett Michael Haggard, with the boat of the British Commission rowed by a fine crew of natives in white shirts and red lava-lavas or kilts. These, like other Samoan men, were tattooed from the waist to the knee rather as if they wore tight breeches under their kilts. We were taken to Haggard's quarters, a two-storied house called Ruge's Buildings, embowered in trees, containing a fine long reception room upstairs, with bedrooms off it for my daughter, myself, and my maid. Below were the servants' quarters, the staff being a very intelligent Indian and two Samoan boys; behind was a courtyard with rooms beyond for Mr. Haggard and my brother. The whole had been the property of a commercial company. Mr. Haggard in his anxiety for our safety used to lock us women in at night, but I do not know what danger he apprehended.

Ruge's Buildings were situated on the princ.i.p.al road of Apia, not far from the harbour which was the scene of the famous hurricane in which the English ship _Calliope_ outrode the storm and escaped, while the German _Adler_ was wrecked against the reefs. Her mast still rose above her shattered remains, marking the spot where she lay.

The Samoan group consisted of three princ.i.p.al and several outlying islands. Tutuila, which possesses the best harbour, was held by the Americans, while Upolu, site of the capital, and Savaii, a mountainous isle, were more or less in dispute between the Germans and the British.

The politics of the whole group were involved to a degree, and certainly hold little interest for anyone at this time of day. The League of Nations did not exist in 1892, but Samoa would have afforded a splendid field for its discussions, not to say a happy hunting-ground for commissions and expenditure.

The main points of difference in 1892 may be summarised thus: There were two kings, Malietoa Laupepa, acknowledged by the European Powers, and a rebel, Mataafa, fortified in the mountains. There was another monarch, Tamasese, but he was not then counted among the royal claimants, though son of a chief called the "German King," because his father had once upon a time been acknowledged by the Germans, who gave him a uniform.

Also there were three Land Commissioners and three Consuls, English, American, and German; a German Prime Minister; Mabon, Secretary of State--I think American--and a Swedish Chief Justice. The last-named was appointed to settle any matters of difference which might arise between the Land Commissioners of the three Great Powers, and they were to decide the disputes between the various claimants to land.

The Europeans had often tried to induce the natives to sell them land far below its value, and the natives were not altogether behindhand in the game, as they would sell the same land to two or three different purchasers. Result, far more claims to land than acres existing to satisfy the claimants. The Swedish Chief Justice, a man called Cedercrantz, with a squint, did not know English when appointed, and had to go to Fiji to learn it.

To add to the complications there were three sets of missionaries in Upolu, London missionaries and Wesleyans, with a standing feud between them, and Roman Catholics of course violently opposed to both. All this for a population well under a hundred thousand! However, despite all these quarrels, and the consequent excitements, the natives seemed a singularly contented and easy-going community, and everyone whom we met vied with all others in making us happy.

The Samoans are fairer than the New Caledonians and their hair less woolly; they approached nearer to the Malay type. We found they did not in the least want to work in the cocoa-nut plantations set on foot by the Germans, and why should they. Fishing one day a week and cultivating a few yams and taros on another day would supply their food, and the women made tappa for their few garments out of the bark of trees.

[Sidenote: GERMAN PLANTATIONS]

The Germans imported workmen of the dusky negro type from the New Hebrides and New Ireland, but the English settlers were not allowed to do this, and the consequence in our time was that the Germans owned the plantations, but otherwise trade and population accrued largely to New Zealanders and other British subjects.

Our host, Bazett Haggard, brother to Rider Haggard and to William Haggard whom we had known in Athens, was a great character. When he visited Sydney he was known as "Samoa," for he never talked of anything else, which was perhaps not surprising under the circ.u.mstances.

A lawyer by profession, on appointment as Land Commissioner he had been endowed with a Foreign Office uniform and a Red Box which were sources of infinite gratification and innocent pride. An Australian young lady asked in awed tones, "Have you seen the beautiful box which Lord Salisbury gave Mr. Haggard?" Previous to a ball at Government House he asked with all the solemnity appropriate to a budding diplomat whether I would dance with him as first representative of the Foreign Office at Sydney. After the dance he laid aside his sword for the rest of the evening, a.s.suring me that this was the proper etiquette, to dance the State dance wearing the sword and subsequent ones without it. No doubt he was right.

Apart from Samoa the universe for him revolved round his native county, Norfolk, whence sprang all that was finest in the British race, particularly the Haggard brothers. I forget how many there were, but they had, he said, all loud voices, and on some occasion won a contested election by the simple process of shouting.