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•ft! 


Presented  to  the 

UNIVERSITY  OF  TORONTO 
LIBRARY 

by  the 

ONTARIO  LEGISLATIVE 
LIBRARY 

1980 


COLONIAL    MEMORIES 


>r*  li    * 


COLONIAL 
MEMORIES 


" 


""' 


,<? 


BY 


LADY    BROOME 


LONDON 
SMITH,   ELDER,    »    CO. 

15  WATERLOO  PLACE 
1904 

Vj          [All  rights  reserved] 


0)  i  1 1  a  i  i  o 


DA 
17 


Printed  by  BALI.ANTVNE,  HANSON  <V  Co. 
At  the  Ballantyne  Press 


NOTE 

MY  cordial  thanks  are  due — and  given — to  the 
Editor  of  the  Cornhill  Magazine,  within  whose 
pages  some  of  these  "  Memories  "  have  from 
time  to  time  appeared,  for  permission  to  re- 
publish  them  in  this  form.  Also  to  the  Editor 
of  the  Boudoir,  where  my  "Girls — Old  and 
New  "  made  their  debut  last  season. 

M.  A.  B. 

October  1904. 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

A  PERSONAL  STORY           .            .  .       ix 

I.  OLD  NEW  ZEALAND           .            .  i 

II.  OLD  NEW  ZEALAND — Continued    .  .21 

III.  OLD  NEW  ZEALAND — Continued    .  .       33 

IV.  A  MODERN  NEW  ZEALAND            .  .      40 
V.  NATAL  MEMORIES  .            .            .  -55 

VI.  "STELLA  CLAVISQUE  MARIS  INDICI"  .       80 

VII.  GENERAL  CHARLES  GORDON  .  -103 

VIII.  WESTERN  AUSTRALIA  .  .  .no 

IX.  WESTERN  AUSTRALIA — Continued  .  .127 

X.  THE  ENROLLED  GUARD  .  .  .  144 

XL  TRINIDAD  .....  149 

XII.  TRINIDAD — Continued  .  .  .  169 

XIII.    RODRIGUES   .                 .                 .                 .  .184 


viii  CONTENTS 

PAGE 

XIV.  COLONIAL  SERVANTS             .  .  .     203 

XV.  INTERVIEWS.            .             .  .  .224 

XVI.  A  COOKING  MEMORY           .  .  .     240 

XVII.  BIRD  NOTES             .            .  .  .255 

XVIII.  HUMOURS  OF  BIRD  LIFE     .  .  -275 

XIX.  GIRLS — OLD  AND  NEW        .  .  .     293 


A    PERSONAL    STORY 

ALMOST  the  first  thing  I  can  remember  is  listening 
with  fascinated  interest  to  an  old  gipsy  woman, 
who  insisted  on  telling  my  fortune  one  summer 
afternoon  on  Cannock  Chase  long,  long  ago.  I  was 
very  reluctant  to  undergo  what  seemed  to  me  a 
terrible  ordeal,  but  I  was  encouraged  to  do  so  by 
my  nurse,  to  whom  she  had  just  promised  "  a 
knight  riding  over  a  plain."  However,  my  Sibyl 
only  touched  on  two  points.  First,  she  looked  at 
my  little  hand  and  said  :  "  I  see  a  stream  of  gold 
flowing  through  your  palm.  Sometimes  it  runs 
full  and  free,  sometimes  scant  and  slow,  but  it  is 
never  quite  dry."  Then  she  doubled  up  my  childish 
fingers  and  went  on,  "  But  this  hand  cannot  close 
on  money  :  you'll  never  be  rich  " — an  utterance 
which  has  come  exactly  and  literally  true,  and 
the  remembrance  of  which  has  often  been  a  comfort 
to  me  in  hard  times.  Then  she  insisted  on  looking 
at  the  sole  of  my  foot,  and  pronounced  that  it 
would  "  wander  up  and  down  the  earth  ;  north 
and  south,  east  and  west,  to  countries  not  yet 
discovered."  She  concluded  by  crying  dramati- 
cally :  "  Earth  holds  no  home  for  you,  earth  holds 


x  A   PERSONAL   STORY 

no  grave  ;  you'll  be  drowned."  Now,  as  I  must 
have  made  something  like  forty  ocean  voyages  in 
the  course  of  my  life,  I  may  be  said  to  have  spent 
it  in  tempting  my  Fate.  However  that  may  be, 
the  old  woman's  prophecy  was  written  down  at 
the  time,  and,  so  far  as  the  wandering  part  of  it 
goes,  no  one  who  reads  these  pages  can  question 
its  truth. 

Born  in  Jamaica,  where  my  father  was  the  last 
"  Island  Secretary," — a  Patent  Office,  held  in  con- 
junction with  the  late  Mr.  Charles  Greville  of 
Memoir  fame,  and  long  since  divided  into  four 
parts — I  began  to  wander  to  and  from  England 
before  I  was  two  years  old,  and  had  crossed  the 
Atlantic  five  times  by  1852  when  I  married  Captain 
(afterwards  Sir  George)  Barker,  K.C.B.  I  lived  in 
England  for  the  next  eight  years,  whilst  he  served 
all  through  the  Crimean  War  and  the  Indian 
Mutiny.  I  joined  him  at  the  first  possible  moment 
after  the  Mutiny,  and  arrived  in  India  at  the  close 
of  1860.  He  was  then  commanding  the  Royal 
Artillery  in  Bengal,  with  the  rank  of  Brigadier- 
General,  a  position  held  at  this  moment  by  our 
eldest  son. 

The  tragic  events  of  that  terrible  time  were 
fresh  in  our  minds,  the  struggle  having  just  closed  ; 
and  as  I  was  brought  in  contact  immediately  with 
many  of  the  principal  actors,  I  naturally  wished  to 
hear  details  of  the  thrilling  scenes  through  which 


A    PERSONAL   STORY  xi 

they  had  just  passed,  but  I  found  that  no  one 
wanted  to  talk  about  them.  We  started  directly 
after  I  arrived  in  Calcutta  on  a  sort  of  Military 
Promenade  with  the  Commander-in-Chief,  Sir  Hugh 
Rose  (afterwards  Lord  Strathnairn),  and  joined  his 
camp  at  Lucknow.  We  stayed  with  friends  there 
whilst  our  tents,  &c.,  were  being  procured,  and  I 
remember  that  the  walls  of  my  vast  bedroom  were 
riddled  with  shot !  There  I  also  met  ladies  who 
had  behaved  in  the  most  heroic  and  splendid  way 
all  through  the  siege ;  but  I  found  to  my  amaze- 
ment that  they  wanted  to  hear  any  little  English 
chit-chat  I  might  have  to  tell,  instead  of  saying 
one  word  about  those  historic  days  or  their  share 
in  them.  If  this  reticence  had  arisen  from  any 
dread  of  re-awakening  sleeping  memories,  I  could 
have  understood  and  respected  it,  but  it  really 
seemed  to  me  at  the  time  as  if  they  had  positively 
forgotten  all  they  had  just  passed  through,  or 
did  not  deem  it  of  sufficient  interest  to  talk  about, 
wanting  only  to  hear  what  was  going  on  "at 
home."  It  must  be  remembered  how  far  away 
England  was  in  those  days — forty  odd  years  ago. 
Few  newspapers,  no  telegraph,  hardly  an  illus- 
trated paper  even — so  it  was  perhaps  no  wonder 
that  they  were  all  suffering  from  what  Aytoun 
calls — 

"  The  deep,  unutterable  woe 
Which  none  save  exiles  feel," 


'  ft, 

*S.--i)       O 

.      i  \ 


jjgl  >3 


xii  A   PERSONAL   STORY 

and  always  wanted  to  talk  of  the  dear  distant 
land  of  their  birth. 

My  own  stay  in  India  hardly  lasted  eight  months, 
but  I  saw  a  great  deal  of  the  country  in  our  four 
months  marching  through  it.  The  camp  broke 
up  in  March  at  the  foot  of  the  Himalayas  just  as 
the  hot  winds  were  beginning  to  make  tent-life 
disagreeable.  We  then  went  up  to  Simla,  and 
"  Peterhof  " — afterwards  greatly  enlarged  and  made 
into  the  Vice-regal  residence — was  taken  as  the 
headquarters  of  the  R.A.  staff. 

In  that  beautiful  spot  the  first  great  sorrow  of 
my  life  came  to  me.  I  lost  my  kind,  good  hus- 
band there ;  and  returned  to  England  after  less 
than  a  year's  absence. 

For  the  next  four  years  I  lived  quietly  with  my 
two  little  sons  among  my  own  people,  but  in  1865 
I  met  Mr.  Napier  Broome,  a  young  and  very  good- 
looking  New  Zealand  sheep  farmer,  who  persuaded 
me  to  change  the  whole  course  of  my  life  and  go 
back  to  New  Zealand  with  him  !  Certainly  the 
influence  of  that  old  gipsy  woman  must  have 
been  very  strong  just  then ;  and  I  often  wonder 
how  I  could  have  had  the  courage  to  take 
such  a  step,  for  it  entailed  leaving  my  boys 
behind  as  well  as  all  my  friends  and  most  of 
the  comforts  and  conveniences  of  life.  But  at 
the  time  it  seemed  the  most  natural  thing  in 
the  world  to  do,  and  we  sailed  merrily  away 


A    PERSONAL   STORY  xiii 

directly  after  our  marriage  in  the  summer  of 
that  year. 

I  tell  elsewhere,1  as  well  as  in  the  following  pages, 
the  story  of  the  three  supremely  happy  years 
which  followed  this  wild  and  really  almost  wicked 
step  on  our  parts.  The  life  was  full  of  charm  and 
novelty,  though  so  venturesome  ;  but  at  first  it 
seemed  as  if  love  was  not  to  be  allowed  to  "  be 
lord  of  all,"  for  a  crisis  in  the  affairs  of  the  Colony 
came  just  after  the  great  snowstorm,  and  from 
one  cause  and  another  the  value  of  real  estate 
as  well  as  of  wool  sank  terribly.  It  was,  therefore, 
with  sadly  diminished  means  we  returned  to  Eng- 
land early  in  1869,  to  be  met  by  a  chorus  of  "we 
told  you  so  "  from  all  our  friends  !  However,  we 
felt  full  of  hope  and  courage,  and  set  about  at 
once  seeking  for  some  other  means  of  livelihood. 

My  husband  had  always  been  very  fond  of 
literature,  and  had  tried  his  hand  more  or  less 
successfully  at  poetry.  Still  it  was  with  great 
diffidence  that  he  walked  into  Messrs.  Macmillan's 
office  one  fine  June  morning  in  1869  and  asked 
to  see  the  editor  of  Macmillari's  Magazine.  Mr. 
(afterwards  Sir  George)  Grove  received  him  at 
once  and  was  both  kind  and  encouraging,  pro- 
mising to  look  at  a  little  poem  called  "  Sunset  off 
the  Azores."  This  interview,  which  resulted  in  the 
immediate  acceptance  of  the  verses,  three  of  which 

1  "  Station  Life  in  New  Zealand."     Macmillan. 


t»t 


xiv  A   PERSONAL  STORY 

are  given  below,1  led  to  a  life-long  friendship,  not 
only  with  dear  Mr.  Grove,  whom  to  know  was  to 
love,  but  also  with  Mr.  Alexander  Macmillan,  who 
was  always  kindness  itself  to  both  of  us,  and  was 
responsible  for  putting  the  idea  of  writing  into 
my  head.  At  his  suggestion  I  inflicted  "  Station 
Life  in  New  Zealand,"  as  well  as  several  story- 
books for  children,  on  a  patient  and  long-suffering 
public. 

Almost   at   the   same   time   an   introduction   to 
Mr.  Delane  of  the  Times  led  to  Mr.  Napier  Broome's 

1  "  Now  under  heaven  all  winds  abated, 

The  sea  a  settling  and  foamless  floor, 
A  sunset  city  is  open-gated, 

Unfastened  flashes  a  golden  door. 
Cloud-walls  asunder  burst  and  brighten 

Like  melted  metal  in  furnace  blaze  ; 
The  lava  rivers  run  through  and  lighten, 

The  glory  gathers  before  my  gaze. 

Eastward  an  isle,  half  sunken,  sleeping, 

Crowns  the  sea  with  a  bluer  crest ; 
Vine-clad  Terceira  ! — but  I  am  keeping 

A  tryst  to-night  with  the  wondrous  west. 
What  there  is  wanting  of  purple  islands, 

Lo  !  golden  archipelagoes, 
Coasts  silver  shining,  and  inner  highlands, 

Long  ranges  rosy  with  sunny  snows. 

All  glowing  golds,  all  scarlets  burning, 

All  palest,  tenderest,  vanishing  hues, 
All  clouded  colour  and  tinges  turning, 

Enrich,  divide,  the  double  blues  ; 
O'erleaning  cliffs  and  crags  gigantic 

And  in  the  heart  of  light  one  shore 
Such  as.  alas  !  no  sea  Atlantic 

To  bless  the  voyager  ever  bore." 


A    PERSONAL   STORY  xv 

being  taken  on  the  staff  of  that  paper  as  special 
correspondent  and  reviewer,  in  fact,  a  sort  of  general 
utility  man.  How  well  I  remember  the  anxiety 
and  care  with  which  my  husband  wrote  his  first 
review,  and  the  pride  and  joy  with  which  he  showed 
me  a  charming  little  note  from  Mr.  Delane,  in 
which,  referring  to  a  hope  on  Mr.  Broome's  part 
of  getting  a  clerkship  in  the  House  of  Commons, 
he  said  :  "  Do  not  take  any  definite  post  at  present, 
for  you  have  an  estate  in  your  inkstand."  And 
indeed  so  it  proved,  for  work  flowed  in  only  too 
fast.  As  Times  Special  Correspondent  he  had 
many  interesting  experiences,  amongst  them  being 
a  visit  to  Petersburg  to  describe  the  late  Duke  of 
Edinburgh's  marriage. 

Perhaps  the  episode  which  stands  out  most 
clearly  before  me  is  a  certain  tour-de-force,  as  Mr. 
Delane  himself  called  it,  springing  out  of  the  Com- 
mune riots  at  the  close  of  the  siege  of  Paris.  We 
had  been  paying  a  visit  in  Staffordshire  in  the 
early  autumn  of  that  tragic  year,  and  reached 
home  one  Saturday  evening  just  in  time  for  dinner, 
and  to  find  the  well-known  Times  messenger  seated 
in  the  hall  with  three  or  four  large  blue  bags 
around  him.  He  handed  my  husband  a  note  from 
Mr.  Delane,  explaining  that  these  bags  contained  a 
heap  of  miscellaneous  printed  matter  taken  from 
the  "Cabinet  Noir"  at  the  sack  of  the  Tuilleries,  and 
requiring  a  series  of  articles  to  be  made  out  of  them. 

b 


xvi  A   PERSONAL  STORY 

Well,  it  was  already  late,  and  the  papers  had 
to  be  sorted,  translated,  and  the  first  article 
written  by  Monday  morning.  So  we  set  to  work 
directly  after  dinner.  It  took  all  that  night 
merely  to  sort  the  papers  and  reduce  them  to  an 
orderly  sequence.  Much  of  the  material  before  us 
had  to  be  rejected  as  being  either  uninteresting 
or  of  a  private  and  personal  nature  below  the 
dignity  of  the  Times  to  notice.  The  whole  of  the 
next  day — with  only  pauses  for  our  meals  and 
hasty  toilets — was  devoted  to  arranging  the  papers 
into  separate  parts  for  three  consecutive  articles 
of  three  columns  each  which  Mr.  Delane  had  asked 
for.  Then  came  the  work  of  translation,  which  I 
undertook,  supplying  my  husband  with  hastily 
scribbled  sheets  from  which  he  wrote  his  article. 
The  printer's  boy  appeared  about  midnight  and 
dozed  in  the  hall,  occasionally  tapping  at  the  door 
for  the  large  envelope  full  of  MSS.  which  he  sent 
off  by  cab.  All  Monday  and  Monday  night  as 
well  as  all  Tuesday  did  the  work  go  on.  It 
was  too  interesting  and  exciting  to  think  of 
sleep,  and  it  was  something  like  two  o'clock 
on  Tuesday  night,  or  rather  Wednesday  morning, 
when,  the  third  and  last  article  being  finished, 
my  husband  took  it  himself  down  to  Printing 
House  Square  for  the  sake  of  the  drive,  and 
I  crawled  up  to  bed  !  It  was  literally  crawling, 
for  I  remember  I  sat  down  on  the  stairs  and  had 


A    PERSONAL  STORY  xvii 

a  good  cry,  which  I  found  most  refreshing  and 
comforting. 

I  too  was  asked  to  write  many  of  the  Times 
reviews  of  novels,  and  as  I  was  invited  the  next 
year  to  be  the  first  Lady  Superintendent  of  the 
National  School  of  Cookery,  and  I  became  also 
the  Editor  of  a  Magazine,  we  both  had  plenty  of 
agreeable  and  congenial  work,  as  well  as  the 
satisfaction  of  earning  between  us  a  comfortable 
income. 

This  busy  but  very  pleasant  London  life  went 
smoothly  on  until  1875,  when  the  gipsy  took  us 
once  more  in  hand  I  suppose,  for,  quite  unex- 
pectedly, my  husband  received  an  offer  from  the 
then  Secretary  of  State  for  the  Colonies,  the  late 
Lord  Carnarvon,  to  go  out  with  Sir  Garnet  Wolseley 1 
to  Natal  as  his  Colonial  Secretary.  It  required  a 
good  deal  of  courage  to  again  suddenly  and  violently 
alter  our  mode  of  life,  especially  as  only  a  few 
hours  could  be  allowed  for  decision,  but  both 
Mr,  Delane  and  the  late  Duke  of  Somerset 2  strongly 
advised  my  husband  to  accept  the  offer.  The 
Duke  had  been  the  Chairman  of  the  Royal  Com- 
mission on  Unseaworthy  Ships,  of  which  my  hus- 
band was  the  Secretary,  and  ever  since  they  had 
been  thus  brought  into  contact  the  Duke  had 
honoured  the  clever  young  Times  writer  with  a 

1  Now  F.  M.  Viscount  Wolseley. 

2  1 2th  Duke  of  Somerset. 


xviii  A    PERSONAL   STORY 

steady  and  delightful  friendship,  and  had  always 
shown  the  keenest  interest  in  his  career. 

So  once  more  our  pretty  and  pleasant  home  in 

Thurloe  Square  was  broken  up,  and  my  husband 

started  before  the  week  was  out  for  Natal,  with 

Sir    Garnet    Wolseley    and    his    brilliant    staff.     I 

could  not  break  off  the  threads  of  my  own  work 

so  rapidly  as  all  that,  and  I  did  not  go  out  to 

Natal  until  six  months  later.     My  stay  there  only 

lasted  a  little  over  a  year,  and  I  brought  my  two 

small  boys  back  again  early  in  1877,  settled  them 

in    England,    and    then    joined    my    husband    in 

Mauritius,  where  he  was  Lieutenant-Go vernor,  in 

1880.     My   own   happiness   as   well   as   usefulness 

there  was  sadly  marred  by  ill-health,  which  finally 

drove  me  home  in  1881,  and  I  had  to  remain  in 

England  until  Mr.  Napier  Broome  was  appointed 

Governor  of  Western  Australia  in  1882.     By  that 

time  I  had  recovered  sufficiently  to  go  round  by 

Mauritius  in  one  of  the  fine  boats  of  the  Messageries 

Mari times,  which  then  ran  between  Marseilles  and 

Australia,  and  pick  him  up  and  go  on  to  South 

Australia,    from   whence   we   had   to   retrace   our 

steps  across  the  Great  Australian  Bight  to  King 

George    Sound.     That   was    in    the    first    days    of 

June  1883.     The  next  year  he  was  made  a  K.C.M.G., 

and  came  to  England  in  1885,  when  he  gave  a 

lecture  at  the  Royal  Colonial  Institute  on  "  Western 

Australia,"  at  which  H.R.H.  the  Prince  of  Wales 


A    PERSONAL  STORY  xix 

graciously  took,  for  the  first  time  in  the  history 
of  the  Institute,  the  chair.  It  is  impossible  to 
estimate  the  good  effect  that  lecture  had  in  attract- 
ing attention  to  the  Cinderella  of  the  Australian 
colonies,  or  the  deep  gratification  of  the  colonists 
themselves  at  His  Royal  Highness'  kindly  interest. 
It  was  quite  the  first  step  on  Western  Australia's 
road  to  progress  and  prosperity,  and  I  do  not 
believe  that  at  least  this  generation  will  ever  cease 
to  be  grateful  to  their  Sovereign  for  helping  them 
by  his  presence  and  patronage  when  they  were 
indeed  "  poor  and  of  no  account." 

In  1890  we  left  Western  Australia  amid  heart- 
breaking farewells,  in  order  to  enable  the  Governor 
to  see  the  Bill  for  giving  Responsible  Government 
to  the  Colony  (which  had  been  thrown  out  the 
Session  before)  through,  the  House  of  Commons. 
That  proved  a  most  interesting  and  exciting 
summer,  necessitating  Sir  Frederick's  constant 
attendance  before  the  Select  Committee.  But  his 
efforts,  aided  by  those  of  two  other  delegates,1  were 
successful,  and  the  Bill  was  triumphantly  carried 
through  to  the  gre'at  advantage  of  the  Colony. 

I  have  often  thought  since,  that  those  seven 
years  were  perhaps  the  happiest  part  of  my  very 
happy  life.  The  climate,  except  when  a  hot  wind 
was  blowing  in  summer,  was  delightful,  the  Govern- 

*  The  late  Sir  Thomas  Cockburn  Campbell,  Bart.,  and  the  Hon. 
H,  Parker,  K.C. 


xx  A   PERSONAL  STORY 

ment  House,  an  excellent  and  comfortable  one, 
stood  in  beautiful  gardens,  and  the  life  was  simple 
and  primitive,  for  no  one  was  rich  in  those  days, 
and  the  society  was  small  and  friendly.  Sir 
Frederick  worked  hard  for  the  development  of  the 
vast  Colony,  which  held  a  million  square  but  sandy 
miles  within  its  borders,  finding  his  task  congenial 
as  well  as  deeply  interesting.  I  worked  too  in 
various  little  ways,  and  amongst  other  plans  I 
collected  all  the  girls  in  Perth  on  Monday  after- 
noons and  read  aloud  to  them  for  a  couple  of  hours 
whilst  they  worked.  We  began  with  Green's 
"  Short  History  of  the  English  People,"  and  went 
on  to  Justin  M'Carthy's  "  History  of  our  own 
Times,"  and  then  Motley's  "  Dutch  Republic,"  and 
"  Thirty  Years'  War."  It  was  only  an  experiment 
at  first,  but  it  succeeded  splendidly,  thanks  to 
the  thirst  for  knowledge  which  all  these'  pretty 
and  charming  girls  displayed.  No  weather  ever 
prevented  their  coming,  and  it  would  have  been 
hard  to  decide  who  enjoyed  those  afternoons  most, 
the  reader  or  her  very  attentive  and  intelligent 
audience. 

I  can  answer  for  myself  that  it  was  a  terrible 
wrench  to  leave  that  dear  home  to  which  we  had 
both  become  so  truly  attached ;  however,  the 
gipsy's  weird  utterances  had  to  be  carried  out, 
and  a  fresh  home  was  soon  started  in  Trinidad, 
to  which  part  of  the  "  Bow  of  Ulysses  "  my  hus- 


A   PERSONAL   STORY  xxi 

band  was  appointed  Governor  in  1891.  There  the 
life  was,  of  course,  very  different,  and  so  was  the 
climate  and  the  surroundings.  Still  the  interest- 
ing work  went  on,  but  there  had  to  be  a  brief  visit 
to  England — often  only  lasting  three  weeks — 
every  year.  Unlike  most  other  Governments  there 
was  no  rest  or  change  of  air  possible  in  the  Colony 
itself,  so  the  English  visit  became  a  necessity  for 
health  besides  affording  an  opportunity  for  settling 
many  questions  of  local  importance. 

Our  time  there  was  drawing  to  a  close  in  1896, 
and  already  a  movement  was  on  foot  (as  had  been 
the  case  in  Western  Australia)  to  petition  the 
Secretary  of  State  for  an  extension  of  Sir  Frederick's 
term  of  office,  when,  like  a  bolt  out  of  the  blue, 
came  an  illness  full  of  suffering  which  speedily 
put  an  end  to  a  career  of  great  promise,  and  to 
his  life  three  months  later. 

Since  1896  I  have  therefore  ceased  wandering 
up  and  down  the  face  of  the  globe,  and,  except  for 
short  trips  abroad  and  a  long  and  delightful  visit 
to  America  last  summer,  I  may  be  said  to  have 
settled  down  to  a  less  roving  life ;  but  I  feel  the 
gipsy  prophecy  still  holds  good,  and  that  no  doubt 
my  present  little  home  will  one  day  change  its 
ground. 

As  it  is,  I  often  wonder  which  is  the  dream — 
the  shifting  scenes  of  former  days,  so  full  of  interest 
as  well  as  of  everything  which  could  make  life 


xxii  A   PERSONAL  STORY 

dear  and  precious,  or  these  monotonous  years 
when  I  feel  like  a  shipwrecked  swimmer,  cast  up 
by  a  wave,  out  of  reach  of  immediate  peril  it  is 
true,  but  far  removed  from  all  except  the  common- 
place of  existence.  Still  it  is  much  to  have  known 
the  best  and  highest  of  earthly  happiness  ;  to 
have  "loved  and  been  beloved,"  and  to  have 
found  faithful  friends  who  stood  fast  even  in  the 
darkest  days.  Among  these  friends  I  would  fain 
believe  there  are  some  unknown  ones,  who  have 
perhaps  read  my  little  books  in  their  childhood, 
and  to  whom  I  venture  to  address  these  lines  ex- 
plaining as  it  were  my  personal  story,  with  an  en- 
treaty for  forgiveness  if  I  have  made  it  too  personal. 


COLONIAL    MEMORIES 


OLD   NEW   ZEALAND 

IT  has  so  chanced  that  quite  lately  I  have  heard  a 
good  deal  of  this  beautiful  and  flourishing  portion 
of  our  "  Britain-over-sea,"  and  these  reports  have 
stirred  the  old  memories  of  days  gone  by  when 
it  was  almost  a  terra  incognita — as  indeed  were 
many  of  our  splendid  Colonial  possessions — to  the 
home-dweller.  But  the  home-dweller  proper  hardly 
exists  in  this  twentieth  century,  and  the  globe- 
trotter has  taken  his  place.  Even  the  latter 
sobriquet  was  unknown  in  my  day,  and  I  was  re- 
garded as  quite  going  into  exile  when,  some  eight- 
and-thirty  years  ago,  I  sailed  with  my  husband 
for  his  sheep-station  on  the  Canterbury  Plains.  As 
far  as  I  was  concerned,  the  life  there  afforded  the 
sharpest  of  all  sharp  contrasts,  but  it  was  none 
the  less  happy  and  delightful  for  that. 

The  direct  line  of  passenger-ships  only  took  us 
as  far  as  Melbourne,  and  then  came  a  dismal  ten  or 

A 


2  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

twelve  days  in  a  wretched  little  steamer,  struggling 
along  a  stormy  coast  before  the  flourishing  Port 
Lyttelton  of  the  present  day  (a  shabby  village  in 
1865)  was  reached.  Yet  the  great  tunnel  through 
the  Port  Hills  was  well  on  its  way  even  then,  and 
the  railway  to  connect  the  port  and  the  young  town 
of  Christchurch  was  confidently  talked  of.  Even 
in  those  early  days,  the  new-comer  was  struck  by 
the  familiar  air  of  everything  ;  and,  so  far  as  my 
own  experience  goes,  New  Zealand  is  certainly  the 
most  English  colony  I  have  seen.  It  never  seems 
to  have  attracted  the  heterogeneous  races  of  which 
the  population  of  other  colonies  is  so  largely  com- 
posed. For  example,  in  Mauritius  the  Chinese 
and  Arab  element  is  almost  as  numerous  as  the 
French  and  English.  In  Trinidad  there  are  large 
colonies  of  Spanish  and  German  settlers,  without 
counting  in  both  these  islands  the  enormous  Indian 
population  which  we  have  brought  there  to  culti- 
vate the  sugar-cane ;  and  in  all  the  principal 
towns  of  Australia  the  "  foreigner "  thrives  and 
flourishes.  But  New  Zealand  has  always  been 
beautifully  and  distinctly  English,  and  the  grand 
Imperial  idea  has  there  fallen  on  congenial  soil 
and  taken  deep  root. 

Even  in  the  days  I  speak  of,  Christchurch,  though 
an  infant  town,  looked  pretty  on  account  of  its 
picturesque  situation  on  the  banks  of  the  Avon. 
The  surrounding  country  was  a  sort  of  rolling 


OLD   NEW  ZEALAND  3 

prairie,  ideally  suitable  for  sheep,  with  the  mag- 
nificent Southern  Alps  for  a  background.  And 
what  a  climate,  and  what  a  sky,  and  what  an  air ! 
The  only  fault  I  had  to  find  with  the  atmospheric 
conditions  was  the  hot  wind.  But  hot  winds  were 
new  to  me  in  those  days,  and  I  rebelled  against 
them  accordingly.  Now  I  begin  to  think  hot 
winds  blow  everywhere  out  of  England.  In  South 
Africa,  in  Mauritius,  in  all  parts  of  Australia,  one 
suffers  from  them,  to  say  nothing  of  India,  where 
they  are  on  the  largest  possible  scale. 

The  first  six  months  of  my  New  Zealand  life 
was  spent  in  Chris tchurch,  waiting  for  the  little 
wooden  house  to  be  cut  out  and  sent  up  country 
to  our  sheep-station  in  the  Malvern  Hills.  How 
absurdly  primitive  it  all  was,  and  yet  how  one 
delighted  in  it !  I  well  remember  the  "  happy 
thought  " — when  the  question  arose  of  the  size  of 
drawing  and  dining-rooms  —  of  spreading  our 
carpets  out  on  the  grass  and  planning  the  house 
round  them.  And  the  joy  of  settling  in,  when  the 
various  portions  of  the  little  dwelling  had  been 
conveyed  some  seventy-five  miles  inland  to  our 
happy  valley  and  fitted  together.  The  doors  and 
window-frames  had  all  come  from  America  ready- 
made,  but  the  rest  of  the  house  was  cut  out  of 
the  kauri  pine  from  the  forests  in  the  North  Island. 

The  first  thing  I  had  to  learn  was  that  New 
Zealand  meant  really  three  islands — two  big  ones 


4  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

and  a  little  one.  Everybody  knows  about  the 
North  and  the  Middle  Islands,  which  are  the  big 
ones,  but  the  little  Stewart  Island  often  confused 
me  by  sometimes  being  called  the  South  Island, 
which  it  really  is.  A  number  of  groups  of  small 
islets  have  been  added  to  the  colony  since  then, 
such  as  the  Cook  and  Kermadec  Islands,  but  I 
do  not  fancy  they  are  inhabited.  The  colony  was 
really  not  a  quarter  of  a  century  old  when  I  knew 
it,  as  it  had  been  a  dependency  of  New  South 
Wales  up  to  1842,  and  it  owes  its  separation  and 
rapid  development  to  the  New  Zealand  Company, 
which  started  with  a  Royal  charter.  The  Canter- 
bury Association  sent  out  four  ships  which  took 
four  months  to  reach  Port  Cooper  in  the  Middle 
Island  (now  the  flourishing  seaport  of  Lyttelton), 
only  sixteen  years  before  I  landed  there. 

The  cathedral  had  not  risen  above  its  foundations 
in  1865,  but  I  was  struck  with  the  well-paved 
streets,  good  "  side-walks,"  gas-lamps,  drinking- 
foun tains,  and  even  red  pillar-boxes  exactly  like 
the  one  round  the  corner  to-day.  And  it  seemed 
all  the  more  marvellous  to  me,  who  had  just  gone 
through  the  lengthy  and  costly  experience  of 
dragging  my  own  little  possessions  across  those 
stormy  seas  round  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope,  to  think 
of  all  these  aids  to  civilisation  having  come 
by  the  same  route.  Now  I  am  assured  you  can 
get  anything  and  everything  you  might  possibly 


OLD   NEW  ZEALAND  5 

want,  on  the  spot,  but  in  those  days  one  eagerly 
watched  a  demenagement  as  a  good  opportunity  for 
furnishing. 

We  had  brought  all  our  goods  and  chattels  out 
with  us,  and  the  wooden  house  was  soon  turned  into 
a  very  pretty  comfortable  little  homestead.  The 
great  trouble  was  getting  the  garden  started. 
The  soil  was  magnificent,  and  everything  in  that 
Malvern  Valley  grew  splendidly  if  the  north-west 
winds  would  only  allow  it.  Hedges  of  cytisus  were 
always  planted  a  month  or  so  before  sowing  the 
dwarf  green  peas,  in  order  that  they  might  have 
some  shelter,  and  this  plan  answered  very  well.  I 
could  not,  however,  start  a  hedge  of  cytisus  all  round 
my  little  lawn,  and  the  consequence  was  that  the 
blades  of  grass  on  that  spot  could  easily  be  counted, 
and  that  I  discovered  a  luxuriant  patch  of  "  English 
grass  "  about  a  mile  down  the  flat,  where  a  little 
dip  in  the  ground  had  made  a  shelter  for  the  flying 
seed.  And  the  melancholy  part  of  the  story  was 
that  English  grass-seed  cost  a  guinea  a  pound  !  I 
was  quite  able  to  appreciate,  three  years  later, 
the  ecstasy  of  delight  of  a  little  New  Zealand  girl, 
who,  beholding  the  Isle  of  Wight  for  the  first  time, 
exclaimed  to  me :  "  How  rich  they  must  be ! 
Why,  it's  all  laid  down  in  English  grass  !  " 

Other  flower-seeds,  of  course,  shared  the  same 
fate,  and  it  was  indeed  gardening  under  difficulties. 
But  in  the  vegetable-garden  consolation  could  be 


6  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

found  in  the  potatoes,  strawberries,  and  green 
peas,  which  were  huge  in  size  and  abundant  in 
quantity. 

Indoors  all  soon  looked  bright  and  cheery  ;  and 
besides  the  books  we  brought  out,  I  started  a 
magazine  and  book  club  in  connection  with  a 
London  library,  which  answered  very  well,  and  gave 
great  delight  to  our  neighbours,  chiefly  shepherds. 
These  men  were  often  of  Scotch  or  north  of  England 
birth,  and  of  a  very  good  type.  Their  lives,  how- 
ever, were  necessarily  monotonous  and  lonely,  and 
they  were  very  glad  of  books.  We  had  a  short 
Church  service  every  Sunday  afternoon,  to  which 
they  gladly  came,  and  then  they  took  new  books 
back  with  them. 

The  only  grudge  I  ever  had  against  these  men 
was  that  they  all  tried  to  provide  themselves  with 
wives  among  my  maids,  and  by  so  doing  greatly 
added  to  my  difficulties  with  these  damsels.  Far 
from  accepting  Strephon's  honourable  proposals, 
Chloe,  would  make  these  offers — which  apparently 
bored  her — an  excuse  for  giving  up  her  place  and 
returning  to  the  gay  metropolis. 

I  honestly  think  those  maids  (I  had  but  two  of 
them  at  a  time)  were  the  chief,  if  not  the  only, 
real  worry  of  my  happy  New  Zealand  life.  Nothing 
would  ever  induce  them  to  remain  more  than  four 
months  at  the  station.  In  spite  of  the  suitors,  they 
found  it  "  lonely,"  and  away  they  went.  Changing 


OLD   NEW   ZEALAND  7 

was  such  a  troublesome  business  and  always  meant 
a  week  without  any  servants  at  all,  for  the  dray — 
their  sole  means  of  conveyance — took  two  days  on 
the  road  each  way,  and  then  there  were  always 
stores  to  buy  and  bring  back,  and  the  driver  de- 
clared his  horses  needed  a  couple  of  days'  rest  in 
town.  Some  of  the  various  reasons  the  maids 
gave  for  leaving  were  truly  absurd.  Once  I  came 
into  the  kitchen  on  a  bright  winter's  morning  to 
find  them  seated  on  a  sort  of  sofa  (made  of  chintz- 
covered  boxes),  clasped  in  each  other's  arms,  and 
weeping  bitterly.  With  difficulty  I  got  out  of 
them  that  their  sole  grievance  was  the  sound  of 
the  bleating  of  the  sheep,  a  "  mob  "  of  which  were 
feeding  on  the  nearest  hillside.  It  was  "  lonesome 
like,"  and  they  must  return  to  town  immediately. 

These  girls,  as  well  as  their  predecessors  and 
successors,  were  a  continual  mystery  to  me,  and 
I  never  could  understand  why  they  became  servants 
at  all.  Not  one  of  them  ever  had  the  faintest 
idea  of  what  duties  she  had  to  perform  or  how  to 
perform  them.  A  cook  had  never,  apparently,  been 
in  a  kitchen  before,  nor  had  the  housemaid  ever 
seen,  or  at  least  handled,  a  broom  or  a  duster.  I 
was  only  an  ignorant  beginner  in  those  days,  and  yet 
found  myself  obliged  to  teach  the  most  elementary 
duties.  They  were  nearly  all  factory-girls  ;  and 
when  I  asked  "  Who  did  these  things  for  you  at 
home  ?  "  always  answered  "  Mother."  They  had 


8  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

never  held  a  needle  until  I  taught  them  how  to 
do  so  ;  and  as  for  mending  or  darning,  that  was 
regarded  as  sheer  waste  of  time.  The  first  thing 
they  had  to  learn  was  to  bake  bread,  and  as,  un- 
fortunately, the  best  teacher  was  our  head  shepherd 
—  a  good-looking,  well-to-do  young  man  —  the 
"  courting "  began  very  soon,  though  it  never 
seemed  successful,  and  poor  Ridge's  heart  must 
have  been  torn  to  pieces  during  those  three  years 
of  obdurate  pupils. 

I  must,  however,  say  here  that,  ignorant  to  an 
incredible  degree  as  my  various  "  helps  "  were,  I 
found  them  perfectly  honest  and  perfectly  re- 
spectable. I  never  had  the  slightest  fault  to  find 
on  either  of  these  counts.  Sobriety  went  without 
saying,  for  it  was  compulsory,  as  the  nearest  public- 
house  was  a  dozen  miles  away  across  trackless 
hills. 

It  was  a  real  tragic  time,  for  me  at  least,  that 
constantly  recurring  week  between  the  departure 
and  arrival  of  my  maids  ;  but  I  am  inclined  to 
think,  on  mature  reflection,  that  my  worst  troubles 
arose  from  the  volunteers  who  insisted  on  helping 
me.  These  kindly  A.D.C.'s, — owners  or  pupils  on 
neighbouring  stations, — all  professed  to  be  quite 
familiar  with  domestic  matters.  But  I  found  a 
sad  falling-off  when  it  came  to  putting  their  theories 
into  practice  in  my  kitchen.  It  generally  turned  out 
that  they  had  made  a  hasty  study  of  various  para- 


OLD   NEW   ZEALAND  9 

graphs  in  that  useful  work  "  Inquire  Within,  &c.," 
and  then  started  forth  to  carry  out  the  directions 
they  had  mastered.  For  instance,  one  stalwart 
neighbour  presented  a  smiling  face  at  our  hall- 
door  one  morning  and  said  : — 

"  I've  come  to  wash  up." 

"  That  is  very  kind  of  you,"  I  replied  ;  "  but 
are  you  sure  you  know  how  ?  " 

"  Oh  yes — just  try  me,  and  you'll  see.  Very 
hot  water,  you  know  :  boiling,  in  fact." 

Well,  there  was  no  difficulty  about  the  hot 
water,  which  was  poured  into  a  tub  in  which  a 
good  many  of  my  pretty  china  plates  and  dishes 
were  standing.  The  next  moment  I  heard  a  yell 
and  a  crash — and  I  am  very  much  afraid  "  a  big, 

big  D " — and  my  "  help  "  was  jumping  about 

the  kitchen  wringing  his  hands  and  shouting  for 
cotton-wool  and  salad-oil  and  what  not.  It  seemed 
a  mere  detail  after  this  calamity  to  discover  that 
half-a-dozen  plates  were  broken  and  as  many 
more  cracked.  "  The  beastly  thing  was  so  hot  " 
being  the  excuse. 

The  first  time  the  maids  left  I  thought  I  would, 
so  to  speak,  victual  the  garrison  beforehand,  and 
I  had  quantities  of  bread  baked  and  butter  churned 
and  meat-pies  made  and  joints  roasted  ;  but  at 
the  end  of  a  couple  of  days  the  larder  was  nearly 
empty,  partly  on  account  of  the  gigantic  appe- 
tites we  all  had,  and  partly  because  of  the  addition 


io  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

to  our  home  party  of  all  these  volunteers  who 
always  seized  the  excuse  of  helping.  As  a 
matter  of  fact,  my  "  helps "  generally  betook 
themselves  to  a  rifle-range  F.  had  set  up  down  the 
valley,  or  else  they  organised  athletic  sports.  I 
should  not  have  minded  their  doing  so,  if  it  had 
not,  apparently,  increased  their  appetites. 

Never  can  I  forget  an  awful  experience  I  went 
through  with  one  of  my  earliest  attempts  at  bread- 
making.  I  felt  it  was  a  serious  matter,  and  not 
to  be  lightly  taken  in  hand,  so  I  turned  my  helps, 
one  and  all,  out  of  the  kitchen,  and  proceeded 
to  carry  out  the  directions  as  written  down.  First 
the  dough  was  to  be  "  set."  That  was  an  anxious 
business.  The  prescribed  quantity  of  flour  had  to 
be  put  in  a  milk-pan,  the  orthodox  hole  in  the 
centre  of  the  white  heap  was  duly  made,  and  then 
came  the  critical  moment  of  adding  the  yeast. 
There  was  only  one  bottle  of  this  precious  in- 
gredient left,  and  it  was  evidently  very  much 
"up,"  as  yeast  ought  to  be.  Under  these  cir- 
cumstances, to  take  out  the  cork  of  that  bottle 
was  exactly  like  firing  a  pistol,  and  I  do  not  like 
firing  pistols.  So  I  was  obliged  to  call  for  an 
assistant.  All  rushed  in  gleefully,  declaring  that 
opening  yeast-bottles  was  their  show  accomplish- 
ment, but  F.  was  the  first  to  seize  it.  He  gave 
it  a  great  shake.  Out  flew  the  cork  right  up  to 
the  rafters,  and  after  it  flew  all  my  beautiful  yeast, 


OLD   NEW  ZEALAND  n 

leaving  only  dregs  of  hops  and  potatoes,  which 
F.,  turning  the  bottle  upside  down,  emptied  into 
the  flour.  Of  course  it  was  all  spoiled,  though  I 
tried  hard  to  produce  something  of  the  nature  of 
bread  out  of  it.  But  certainly  it  was  horribly 
heavy  and  damp. 

One  thing  my  New  Zealand  experiences  taught 
me,  and  that  was  the  skill  and  patience  and  variety 
of  knowledge  required  to  produce  the  simple 
things  of  our  daily  life — things  which  we  accept  as 
much  as  a  matter  of  course  as  the  air  we  breathe. 
But  if  you  have  to  attempt  them  yourself,  you 
end  by  having  a  great  respect  for  those  who  do 
them  apparently  without  effort. 

I  have  often  been  asked  how  we  amused  our- 
selves in  that  lonely  valley.  There  was  not  very 
much  time  for  amusement,  for  we  were  all  very 
busy.  There  was  mustering  and  drafting  to  be 
done,  besides  the;  annual  business  of  shearing, 
which  was  a  tremendous  affair.  It  is  true  I  de- 
veloped quite  a  talent  for  grafting  pleasure  upon 
business ;  and  when  a  long  boundary  ride  had 
to  be  taken,  or  a  new  length  of  fencing  inspected 
(in  those  days  wire  fences  could  not  be  put  up 
even  at  that  comparatively  short  distance  from  a 
town  under  £100  a  mile),  I  contrived  to  make  it 
a  sort  of  picnic,  and  enjoyed  it  thoroughly.  The 
one  drawback  to  my  happiness  was  the  dreadful 
track — it  were  gross  flattery  to  call  it  a  road — over 


12  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

which  our  way  generally  led  us.  No  English  horse 
would  have  attempted  the  break-neck  places  our 
nags  took  us  safely  over.  Up  and  down  slippery 
steep  stairs,  where  all  four  feet  had  to  be  collected 
carefully  on  each  step,  before  an  attempt  to  reach 
the  next  could  be  made ;  across  swamps  where 
there  was  no  foothold  except  on  an  occasional 
tussock ;  over  creeks  with  crumbling  banks.  At 
first  I  really  could  not  believe  that  I  was  expected 
to  follow  over  such  places,  but  I  was  only  adjured 
to  "  sit  tight  and  leave  it  all  to  my  horse,"  and 
certainly  I  survived  to  tell  the  tale!  The  only 
fall  I  had  during  all  those  three  years  of  real 
rough-riding  was  cantering  over  a  perfectly  smooth 
plain,  when  a  little  bag  strapped  to  my  saddle 
slipped  down  and  struck  my  very  spirited  mare 
beneath  her  body.  She  bucked  frantically,  and  I 
flew  into  space,  alighting  on  the  point  of  my 
shoulder,  which  I  broke.  On  that  occasion  I  was 
the  victim  of  a  good  deal  of  amateur  surgery, 
but  it  all  came  right  eventually,  though  I  could 
not  use  my  arm  for  a  long  time. 

But  to  return  to  our  amusements.  Boar-hunting 
was  perhaps  the  most  exciting  ;  though  I  was  not 
allowed  to  call  that  an  amusement,  for  it  was 
absolutely  necessary  to  keep  down  the  wild  pigs, 
which  we  owe  to  Captain  Cook.  A  sow  will  follow 
very  young  lambs  until  they  drop,  separating  them 
from  their  mothers  and  giving  them  no  rest.  When 


OLD    NEW   ZEALAND  13 

the  poor  little  things  fall  exhausted  the  sow  then 
devours  them,  but  it  is  almost  impossible  to  track 
and  shoot  these  same  sows,  for  they  hide  them- 
selves and  their  litters  in  the  most  marvellous  way. 
The  shepherds  occasionally  come  across  them,  and 
then  have  a  great  orgy  of  sucking-pig.  But 
the  big  boar  whose  shoulder-scales  are  like  plated 
armour  and  quite  bullet-proof,  and  whose  tusks 
are  as  sharp  as  razors,  gives  really  very  good 
sport,  and  must  be  warily  stalked.  These  expe- 
ditions had  always  to  be  undertaken  on  foot,  and 
I  insisted  on  going  because  I  had  heard  gruesome 
stories  of  accidents  to  sportsmen,  who  had  perished 
of  cold  and  hunger  on  desolate  hillsides  when  out 
after  boars.  So  I  always  begged  to  be  taken  out 
stalking,  and  as  I  carried  a  basket  with  sand- 
wiches and  cake  and  a  bottle  of  cold  tea,  my  com- 
pany was  graciously  accepted. 

These  expeditions  always  took  place  in  the  winter, 
for  the  affairs  of  the  sheep  seemed  to  occupy  most 
of  the  summer,  and  besides  it  would  have  been 
too  hot  for  climbing  steep  hillsides  and  exploring 
long  winding  gullies  in  anything  but  cold  May 
and  June  weather.  The  boars  gave  excellent 
sport,  and  I  well  remember,  after  a  long  day's 
stalk  up  the  gorge  of  the  Selwyn  River,  our  pride 
and  triumph  when  F.,  who  had  taken  a  careful 
aim  at  what  looked  exactly  like  one  of  the  grey 
boulders  strewn  about  on  the  opposite  hillside, 


14  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

fired  his  rifle,  and  a  huge  boar  leapt  into  the  air, 
only  to  fall  dead  and  come  crashing  down  the 
steep  slope. 

Then  there  were  some  glorious  days  after  wild 
cattle,  but  that  was  a  long  way  off  in  the  great 
Kowai  Bush,  and  we  had  to  camp  out  for  nearly 
a  week.  It  was  difficult  work  getting  through  the 
forest,  as,  although  there  was  a  sort  of  track,  it 
was  often  impassable  by  reason  of  fallen  trees. 
Of  course  we  were  on  foot ;  but  it  greatly  adds 
to  one's  work  to  have  constantly  to  climb  or 
scramble  over  a  barrier  of  branches.  All  the 
gentlemen  carried  compasses  as  the  only  means 
of  steering  through  the  curious  green  gloom. 
Though  it  was  the  height  of  summer,  we  never 
saw  a  ray  of  sunshine,  and  it  was  always  delight- 
fully cool.  Every  now  and  then  we  came  to  a 
clearing,  and  so  could  see  where  we  were.  One  of 
these  openings  showed  us  the  great  Waimakariri 
River  swirling  beneath  its  high  wooded  banks,  and 
it  was,  just  there,  literally  covered  with  wild  duck 
— grey,  blue,  and  "  Paradise  " — all  excellent  eating, 
but  I  am  thankful  to  say  that  the  sportsmen  for- 
bore to  shoot,  as  it  would  have  been  impossible 
to  retrieve  the  birds.  Some  fine  young  bullocks 
fell  every  day  to  their  rifles  ;  but  although  I  heard 
the  shots  and  the  ensuing  shouts  of  joy,  the  thick- 
ness of  the  "  bush  "  always  prevented  (happily  !) 
my  seeing  the  victims. 


OLD   NEW  ZEALAND  15 

The  undergrowth  of  that  "  bush " — Anglice, 
forest — was  the  most  beautiful  thing  imaginable, 
and  the  familiar  stag's-head  and  hart's-tongue  grew 
side  by  side  with  exquisite  forms  quite  unknown 
to  me.  Besides  the  profusion  of  ferns,  there  was  a 
wealth  of  delicate  fairy-like  foliage,  but  never  a 
flower  to  be  seen  on  account  of  the  want  of  sun. 

In  summer  we  sometimes  went  down  to  the 
nearest  creek,  about  a  mile  away,  for  eel-fishing, 
but  I  did  not  care  much  for  that  form  of  sport. 
It  meant  sitting  in  star-light  and  solitude  for  many 
hours,  and  one  got  drenched  with  dew  into  the 
bargain.  The  preparations  were  the  most  amusing 
part,  especially  the  making  of  balls  of  worsted- 
ends  with  lumps  of  mutton  tied  craftily  in  the 
middle  ;  the  idea  being  that  when  the  eel  snapped 
at  the  meat  his  teeth  ought  to  stick  in  the  worsted, 
and  so  he  would  become  an  easy  prey  to  the 
angler.  This  came  off  according  to  the  programme, 
and  even  I  caught  some  ;  but  they  were  far  too 
heavy  to  lift  out  of  the  water,  as  there  was  no 
"  playing "  an  eel,  and  the  dead  weight  had  to 
be  raised  by  the  flax-stick  which  was  my  only 
fishing-rod.  However,  quite  enough  of  the  horrid 
slimy  things  were  secured  to  make  succulent  pies 
for  those  who  liked  them. 

We  once  invented  an  amusement  for  ourselves 
by  going  up  a  mountain  on  our  station  three 
thousand  feet  high,  and  sleeping  there  in  order 


16  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

to  see  the  sunrise  next  morning.  I  ought,  per- 
haps, to  explain  that  these  Malvern  Hills  among 
which  our  sheep-station  lay  are  really  the  lowest 
spurs  of  the  great  Southern  Alps,  so  that  even 
on  our  run  the  hills  attained  quite  a  respectable 
height.  I  had  heard  from  those  who  had  gone 
up  this  hill — quite  near  our  little  house — how  wide 
and  beautiful  was  the  outlook  from  its  summit, 
so  I  never  rested  until  the  expedition  was  arranged. 
Of  course,  it  was  only  possible  in  the  height  of 
summer,  and  we  chose  an  ideally  beautiful  after- 
noon for  our  start  directly  after  an  early  dinner. 
It  was  possible  to  ride  a  good  way  up  the  hill, 
and  then  we  dismounted  (there  were  five  of  us), 
and  took  the  saddles  and  bridles  off  the  horses, 
tied  them  to  flax-bushes  within  easy  reach  of 
good  feed,  and  commenced  the  climb  of  the  last 
and  steepest  bit  of  the  ascent. 

It  was  rather  amusing  to  find,  as  soon  as  it 
came  to  carrying  them  up  ourselves,  how  many 
things  were  suddenly  pronounced  to  be  quite  un- 
necessary. Food  and  drink  had  to  be  carried  (the 
drink  consisting  of  water  for  tea)  and  a  pair  of 
red  blankets  for  shelter,  and  just  one  little  extra 
blanket  for  me.  My  share  of  the  porterage  was 
only  a  bottle  of  milk  strapped  to  my  back — for  it 
took  both  hands  to  scramble  up,  holding  on  to  the 
long  tussocks  of  grass — but  I  felt  that  I  was  laden 
to  the  extent  of  my  carrying  capacity  !  The  four 


OLD   NEW   ZEALAND  17 

gentlemen  had  really  heavy  loads  ("  swags,"  as 
they  called  all  parcels  or  bundles),  under  which, 
however,  they  gallantly  struggled  up.  There  was 
no  time  to  admire  any  view  when  at  last  we  stood, 
breathless  and  panting,  on  the  little  plateau  at 
the  very  top,  for  the  twilight  was  fast  fading,  and 
there  was  the  tent  to  be  put  up  and  wood  to  collect 
for  the  fire. 

Fortunately,  all  those  hillsides  were  more  or  less 
strewn  with  charred  logs  of  a  splendid  hard  red 
wood,  called  "  totara,"  the  last  traces  of  the  forest 
or  bush  with  which  they  were  once  covered. 
The  shepherds  always  pick  up  and  bring  down 
any  of  these  logs  which  they  come  across  when 
mustering  or  boundary-keeping,  for  they  find  them 
a  great  prize  for  their  fires,  burning  slowly,  and 
giving  out  a  fine  heat. 

When  we  came  to  pitch  the  tent,  there  seemed 
such  a  draught  through  it  that  I  gave  up  my  own 
particular  blanket  to  block  up  one  end,  and  con- 
tented myself  with  a  little  jacket.  But  oh,  how 
cold  it  was  !  We  did  not  find  it  out  just  at  first, 
for  we  were  all  too  busy  settling  ourselves,  light- 
ing the  fire,  unpacking,  and  so  forth.  But  after 
we  had  eaten  the  pies  and  provisions,  and  drunk 
a  quantity  of  tea,  there  did  not  seem  much  to  do 
except  to  turn  in  so  as  to  be  ready  for  the  sunrise. 
Some  tussocks  of  coarse  grass  had  been  cut  to 
make  a  sort  of  bed  for  me,  after  the  fashion  of 

B 


i8  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

the  wild-pigs,  who,  the  shepherds  declare,  "  have 
clean  sheets  every  night,"  for  they  never  use 
their  lair  more  than  once,  and  always  sleep  on  fresh 
bitten-off  grass.  In  spite  of  this  luxury,  however, 
I  must  say  I  found  the  ground  very  hard,  and  the 
wind,  against  which  the  blankets  seemed  abso- 
lutely no  protection,  very  cold.  Also  the  length 
of  that  night  was  something  marvellous ;  and 
when  we  looked  down  into  the  valley  and  saw 
the  lights  twinkling  in  our  own  little  homestead, 
and  reflected  that  it  could  not  be  yet  ten  o'clock, 
a  sense  of  foolishness  took  possession  of  us.  Every 
one  looked,  as  seen  by  the  firelight,  cold  and 
miserable,  but  happily  no  one  was  cross  or  re- 
proachful. Three  of  the  gentlemen  sat  round  the 
fire  smoking  all  night,  with  occasional  very  weak 
"  grogs  "  to  cheer  them.  F.  shared  the  tent  with 
me  and  Nettle,  my  little  fox-terrier ;  but  Nettle 
showed  himself  a  selfish  doggie  that  night.  I 
wanted  him  to  sleep  curled  up  at  my  back  for 
warmth,  but  he  would  insist  on  so  arranging  him- 
self that  I  was  at  his  back,  which  was  not  the 
same  thing  for  me  at  all. 

We  certainly  verified  the  proverb  of  its  being 
darkest  before  dawn,  for  the  stars  seemed  to  fade 
quite  out,  and  an  inky  blackness  stole  over  earth 
and  sky  an  hour  or  so  before  a  pale  streak  grew 
luminous  in  the  east.  I  fear  I  must  confess  to 
having  by  that  time  quite  forgotten  my  ardent 


OLD   NEW   ZEALAND  19 

desire  to  see  the  sunrise.  All  I  thought  of  was 
the  joy  of  getting  home,  and  being  warm  once 
more ;  and,  as  soon  as  it  was  light  enough  to  see 
anything,  we  began  to  strike  the  little  tent  and 
pack  up  the  empty  dishes  and  pannikins.  But 
long  before  we  could  have  thought  it  possible, 
and  long  before  it  could  be  seen  from  the  deep 
valley  below  us,  the  sun  uprose,  and  one  felt  as 
if  one  was  looking  at  the  majestic  sight  for  the 
first  time  since  the  Creation.  Nothing  could  have 
been  more  magnificent  than  the  sudden  flood  of 
light  bursting  over  the  wide  expanse.  Fifty  miles 
away,  the  glistening  waves  of  the  Pacific  showed 
quite  clearly  ;  below  us  spread  the  vast  Canter- 
bury Plains,  with  the  great  Waimakariri  River 
flowing  through  them  like  a  tangle  of  silver  ribbons. 
To  the  west  rose  steep,  forest-covered  hills,  still 
dark  and  gloomy,  with  the  eerie-looking  outline 
of  the  snow-ranges  rising  behind.  A  light  mist 
marked  where  the  great  Ellesmere  Lake  lay,  the 
strange  thing  about  which  is  that,  although  only 
a  slight  bar  of  sand  separates  it  from  the  sea,  its 
waters  are  quite  fresh.  All  we  could  see  of  the 
River  Rakaia  were  its  steep  banks,  but  beyond 
them  again  shone  the  gleam  of  the  Rangitata's 
waters,  whilst  close  under  our  feet  the  Selwyn 
ran  darkly  through  its  narrow  gorge.  The  little 
green  patches  of  cultivation — so  few  and  far  be- 
tween in  those  days — each  with  its  tiny  cottage, 


20  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

gave  a  little  homelike  touch  which  was  delightful, 
as  did  also  the  strings  of  sheep  going  noisily  down 
from  their  high  camping-grounds  to  feed  in  the 
sheltered  valleys  or  on  the  sunny  slopes.  It  was 
certainly  a  most  beautiful  panorama,  and  we  all 
agreed  that  it  was  well  worth  our  long,  cold  night 
of  waiting.  Still,  we  got  home  as  quickly  as  we 
could,  and  I  remember  the  day  proved  a  very 
quiet  one.  I  suspect  there  were  many  surreptitious 
naps  indulged  in  by  us  poor  "  Watchers  of  the 
Night." 


II 

OLD    NEW   ZEALAND— Continued 

No  wandering  reminiscence  of  these  distant  days 
would  be  complete  without  a  brief  mention  of  the 
famous  snowstorm  of  1867,  at  which  I  assisted. 

I  must  say  a  prefatory  word  or  two  about  the 
climate — so  far  as  my  three  years'  experience  went 
— in  order  to  explain  the  full  force  of  the  disaster 
that  fall  of  snow  wrought.  The  winters  were 
short  and  delicious,  except  for  an  occasional  week 
of  wet  weather,  which,  however,  was  always  re- 
garded by  the  sheep-farmer  as  excellent  for  filling 
up  the  creeks,  making  the  grass  grow,  and  being 
everything  that  was  natural  and  desirable.  When 
it  did  not  rain,  the  winter  weather  was  simply 
enchanting,  although  one  had  to  be  prepared  for 
its  sudden  caprices,  for  weather  is  weather  even 
at  the  antipodes,  and  consequently  unreliable. 
Sometimes  we  started  on  an  ideally  exquisite 
morning  for  a  long  ride  on  some  station  business. 
The  air  would  be  still  and  delicious,  fresh  and 
exhilarating  to  a  degree  hardly  to  be  understood  ; 
the  sun  brilliant  and  just  sufficiently  warming. 


22  COLONIAL  MEMORIES 

All  would  go  well  for  four  or  five  hours,  until, 
perhaps,  we  had  crossed  a  low  saddle  in  the  moun- 
tains and  were  coming  home  by  the  gorge  of  a 
river.  In  ten  minutes  everything  might  have 
changed.  A  sou'-wester  would  have  sprung  up 
as  though  let  out  of  a  bag,  heavy  drops  of  rain 
would  be  succeeded  by  a  snow-flurry,  in  which  it 
was  not  always  easy  to  find  one's  way  home  across 
swamps  and  over  creeks,  and  the  riders  who  set 
forth  so  gaily  at  ten  of  the  clock  that  same  morning 
would  return  in  the  fast-gathering  darkness  wet 
to  the  skin,  or  rather  frozen  to  the  bone.  I  have 
often  found  it  difficult  to  get  out  of  my  habit,  so 
stiff  with  frozen  snow  was  its  bodice. 

No  one  ever  dreamed  of  catching  cold,  however, 
from  the  meteorological  changes  and  chances,  an 
immunity  which  no  doubt  we  owed  to  the  fact 
that  we  led,  whether  we  liked  it  or  not,  an  open- 
air  life.  The  little  weather-boarded  house,  with 
its  canvas-papered  lining,  did  not  offer  much  pro- 
tection from  a  hard  frost,  and  I  have  often  found  a 
heap  of  feathery  snow  on  a  chair  near  my  closed 
bedroom  window ;  the  snow  having  drifted  in 
through  the  ill-fitting  frame. 

Still  these  snow-showers,  and  even  hard  frosts 
(which  usually  melted  by  midday),  did  no  harm 
to  man  or  beast,  and  found  us  totally  unprepared 
for  the  fall  in  August  1867.  Of  course  there  were 
no  meteorological  records  kept  in  those  days,  for 


OLD   NEW   ZEALAND  23 

they  had  not  long  been  started  even  in  Eng- 
land, and  we  had  nothing  to  go  by  except  the 
Maori  traditions,  which  held  no  record  of  any- 
thing the  least  like  that  snowstorm.  Indeed,  I 
had  seldom  seen  snow  lie  on  the  ground  for  more 
than  an  hour  after  the  sun  rose,  and  it  never 
was  thought  of  as  a  danger  in  our  comparatively 
low  hills. 

I  well  remember  that  Monday  morning  and  the 
strange  restlessness  which  seemed  to  extend  to  the 
sheep,  for  they  must  have  felt  the  coming  trouble 
long  before  we  thought  of  calamity.  The  weather 
during  the  last  week  of  July  had  been  quite  beauti- 
ful, our  regular  winter  weather,  and  we  had  taken 
advantage  of  it  to  send  the  dray  down  to  Christ- 
church  for  supplies.  My  store-room  was  all  but 
empty,  and  the  tea-chest,  flour  and  sugar  bags, 
held  hardly  half -a- week's  consumption,  so  the 
drayman  was  charged  not  to  linger,  but  to  turn 
round  and  come  back  directly  he  got  his  load. 
When  speaking  of  supplies  it  must  be  borne  in 
mind  that  tinned  provisions  were  almost  unknown 
in  those  days,  and  certainly  never  found  their 
way  to  a  New  Zealand  sheep  station.  F.  had  also 
taken  advantage  of  the  beautiful  open  weather 
to  ride  down  to  Chris tchurch  about  wool  matters, 
so  I  expected  to  be  quite  alone  with  a  youth  who 
was  learning  sheep-farming  under  F.'s  auspices, 
and  my  two  servants. 


24  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

But  F.  had  hardly  started  before  a  cousin  rode 
up  the  track  and,  hearing  I  was  feeling  somewhat 
depressed  and  lonely,  very  kindly  volunteered  to 
stay,  and  before  the  afternoon  was  over  a  neigh- 
bouring young  squatter  also  appeared,  and  asked 
(as  was  quite  a  common  thing  in  that  hotel-less 
district)  for  shelter  for  the  night.  Nothing  could 
have  been  more  unexpected — except  that  one's 
station  guests  always  were  unexpected — than  these 
two  visitors,  but  it  proved  a  fortunate  chance  for 
me  that  they  appeared  just  then. 

The  weather  was  certainly  curious,  and  we  all 
noticed  that  the  sound  of  the  sheep's  bleat  never 
ceased.  Now  the  odd  thing  at  a  sheep  station 
used  to  be  that  you  hardly  ever  saw  a  sheep,  and 
still  more  seldom  heard  one,  except  perhaps  in 
the  early  morning,  when  they  were  coming  down 
from  their  high  camping-grounds.  And  sheep 
always  "  travel "  head  to  wind,  but  the  sheep  that 
afternoon  kept  moving  in  exactly  the  contrary 
direction.  Still  I  was  not  in  the  least  uneasy 
about  the  weather,  except  as  it  might  affect  the 
comfort  of  F.'s  seventy-five  mile  ride  to  town, 
and  I  knew  he  would  be  under  comfortable  shelter 
at  a  friend's  half-way  house  that  night.  So  we 
gaily  and  lavishly  partook  of  our  supper-dinner, 
had  an  absurd  game  of  whist,  and  went  to  bed 
as  usual. 

It  was  no  surprise  to  see  snow  falling  steadily 


OLD   NEW   ZEALAND  25 

next  morning,  but  it  was  disagreeable  to  find  there 
was  very  little  mutton  in  the  house,  and  that  it 
was  quite  likely  the  shepherd  would  wait  for  the 
weather  to  clear  before  starting  across  the  hills 
and  swamps  between  us  and  the  little  homestead 
where  the  woolshed  stood,  and  from  whence  the 
business  of  the  station  was  carried  on. 

The  three  gentlemen  lounged  about  all  day  and 
smoked  a  good  deal.  They  told  me  afterwards 
how  bitterly  they  regretted  not  having  made  some 
preparation  in  the  way  of  at  least  bringing  in 
fuel,  or  putting  extra  food  for  the  fowls,  &c.  But 
each  said  to  the  other  every  five  minutes,  "  Oh, 
you  know  snow  in  New  Zealand  never  lasts,"  though 
their  experience  was  only  a  very  few  years  old. 
It  was  short  commons  that  second  day,  and  I 
thought  sadly  that  the  dray  would  have  only 
reached  Christchurch  that  evening !  We  all  felt 
depressed,  and,  as  no  one  had  any  use  for  depres- 
sion up  that  valley,  the  sensation  was  quite  new 
to  us. 

It  was  not  until  we  met  on  the  third  morning, 
however,  that  we  at  all  acknowledged  our  fears. 
By  this  time  the  snow  was  at  least  four  feet  deep 
in  the  shallowest  places,  and  still  continued  to 
fall  steadily.  It  was  impossible  to  see  even  where 
the  fowl-house  and  pig-sties  stood,  on  the  weather 
side  of  the  house.  All  the  great  logs  of  wood 
lying  about  waiting  to  be  cut  up  were  hidden,  so 


26  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

was  the  little  shed  full  of  coal.  A  smooth  high 
slope,  like  a  hillock,  stretched  from  the  outer 
kitchen  door,  which  could  not  be  opened  that 
morning,  out  into  the  floating  whiteness.  All  our 
windows  were  nearly  blocked  up  and  became  quite 
so  by  the  evening,  and  no  door  except  one,  which 
opened  inwards,  could  be  used.  And  we  had 
literally  no  food  in  the  house.  The  tea  at  break- 
fast was  merely  coloured  hot  water,  and  we  each 
had  a  couple  of  picnic  biscuits.  For  dinner  there 
was  a  little  rice  and  salt.  Imagine  six  people  to 
be  fed  every  day,  and  an  empty  larder  and  store- 
room ! 

The  day  after  that  my  maids  declined  to  get  up, 
declaring  they  preferred  to  "  die  warm  "  ;  so  I 
took  them  in  a  sardine  each,  a  few  ratafia  biscuits, 
and  a  spoonful  of  apricot  jam.  Those  were  our 
own  rations  for  that  day.  We  had  by  that  time 
broken  up  every  box  for  fuel,  and  only  lighted 
a  fire  in  the  kitchen,  where  also  a  solitary  candle 
burned. 

"  Be  very  careful  of  the  dips,"  said  one  of  my 
guests,  "  for  I've  read  of  people  eating  them." 

"  I  hear  the  cat  mewing  under  the  house,"  said 
another  ;  "  we'll  try  to  get  hold  of  her." 

"  I  wonder  if  those  are  the  cows  ?  "  asked  a 
third,  pointing  to  three  formless  heaps  high  above 
the  stockyard  rails,  but  within  them. 

By  Friday  morning  the  maids,  still  in  bed,  were 


OLD   NEW  ZEALAND  27 

asking  tearfully,  "  And  oh  !  when  do  you  think 
we'll  be  found,  mum  ?  "  Whereas  my  anxiety  was 
to  find  something  to  feed  them  with !  We  shook 
out  a  heap  of  discarded  flour-bags  and  got,  to  our 
joy,  quite  a  plateful  of  flour,  and  a  careful  smooth- 
ing out  of  the  lead  lining  of  old  tea-chests  yielded 
a  few  leaves,  so  we  had  girdle-cakes  and  tea  that 
day.  I  was  very  unhappy  about  the  dogs  :  the 
horses  were  out  on  the  run  as  usual,  so  it  was  no 
use  thinking  of  them. 

On  Saturday  there  was  literally  nothing  at  all 
in  the  house  (which  was  quite  dark,  remember), 
and  my  three  starving  men  roped  themselves  to- 
gether and  struggled  out,  tunnelling  through  the 
snow,  in  the  direction  where  they  thought  the 
fowl-house  must  lie.  After  a  couple  of  hours'  hard 
work  they  hit  upon  its  roof,  tore  off  some  of  the 
wooden  shingles,  and  captured  a  few  bundles  of 
feathers,  which  were  what  my  poor  dear  hens  were 
reduced  to.  However,  there  was  a  joyful  struggle 
back,  and  after  some  hasty  preparation  the  fowls 
were  put  into  a  saucepan  with  a  lump  of  snow, 
for  there  was  no  water  to  be  got  anywhere,  and  a 
sort  of  stew  resulted,  of  which  we  thankfully  par- 
took. This  heartened  up  the  gentlemen  to  make 
another  sally  to  the  stockyard  in  search  of  the 
cows.  The  clever  creatures  had  kept  moving  round 
and  round  as  the  snow  fell,  so  as  to  make  a  sort 
of  wider  tomb  for  themselves,  and  they  were  alive, 


28  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

though  mere  bundles  of  skin  and  bone.  They 
were  dragged  by  ropes  to  the  stable  and  there  fed 
with  oaten  hay.  It  was  no  question  of  milking 
the  poor  things,  for  they  were  quite  dry. 

Next  day  the  dogs  were  dug  out,  but  only  one 
young  and  strong  one  survived.  Two  more  were 
alive,  but  died  soon  after. 

On  Sunday  it  had  ceased  snowing  and  the  wind 
showed  signs  of  changing.  I  struggled  a  yard  or 
two  out  of  the  house,  as  it  was  such  a  blessing 
to  get  into  daylight  again.  My  view  was  of  course 
much  circumscribed,  as  I  could  only  see  up  and 
down  the  "  flat,"  as  the  valley  was  called.  But 
it  all  looked  quite  different ;  not  a  fence  or  familiar 
landmark  to  be  seen  on  any  side.  If  I  could  have 
been  wafted  to  the  top  of  the  mountain  from  which 
we  saw  the  sun  rise  the  summer  before,  what  a 
white  world  should  I  have  beheld  !  And  if  I  could 
have  soared  still  higher  and  looked  over  the  whole 
of  the  vast  Canterbury  Plains,  I  should  have  been 
gazing  at  the  smooth  winding-sheet  of  half  a  million 
of  sheep,  for  that  was  found,  later,  to  be  the  loss 
in  that  Province  alone. 

Yet,  as  we  afterwards  came  to  know,  it  was 
not  really  the  fall  of  snow,  tremendous  as  it  had 
been,  which  cost  the  Province  nearly  all  its  stock. 
As  I  have  said,  the  wind  changed  to  the  north-west 
— the  warm  quarter — on  Sunday  night,  and  it 
rained  heavily  as  well  as  blowing  half  a  gale.  On 


OLD   NEW   ZEALAND  29 

Monday  morning  the  snow  was  off  the  roof  and  it 
was  possible  to  clear  some  of  the  windows.  An 
early  excursion  was  also  made  to  the  styes  and  a 
very  thin  pig  was  killed,  and,  as  a  bag  of  Indian 
meal  for  fattening  poultry  had  also  been  found 
in  the  stable  loft,  a  sort  of  cake  could  be  made. 
So  we  were  no  longer  starving,  and  the  maids 
got  up  ! 

Twenty-four  hours  of  this  warm  rain  and  wind 
was  what  did  all  the  mischief  to  the  poor  sheep. 
By  Monday  night  every  creek  within  sight  had 
overflowed  its  banks,  and  was  running — a  dirty 
yellow  stream — over  the  fast-melting  snowfields. 
The  rapid  thaw  and  the  flooded  creeks  made  loco- 
motion more  difficult  than  ever,  but  the  three 
gentlemen  set  to  work  at  once  to  try  to  release 
the  imprisoned  sheep.  There  was  but  one  dog 
to  work  with,  and  he  was  so  weak  he  could  hardly 
move,  but  the  poor  sheep  were  still  weaker.  Con- 
trary to  their  custom  they  had  mostly  sought 
refuge  beneath  the  projecting  banks  of  the  creeks, 
and  would  have  been  safe  enough  there  had  not 
the  sudden  thaw  let  the  water  in  on  them  before 
they  could  struggle  up,  so  they  were  nearly  all 
drowned.  It  was  most  pathetic  to  discover  how 
in  some  places  the  mothers  had  tried  to  save  the 
lambs  by  standing  over  them  in  a  leaning  attitude 
so  as  to  make  a  shelter.  The  lambing  season  had 
just  begun,  and  on  our  own  run,  which  was  but 


30  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

a  small  one,  we  lost  three  thousand  lambs.  Several 
were  brought  in  to  me  to  try  to  save,  but  I  had 
no  cow's  milk  to  give  them,  and  warm  meal  and 
water  did  not  prove  enough  to  keep  the  poor  little 
starving  creatures  alive.  It  was  heart-breaking 
work,  and  when  F.  returned  it  was  to  find  the 
fences  tapestried  with  the  skins  of  a  thousand 
sheep. 

As  soon  as  we  could  move  about  on  horseback 
we  rode  all  over  the  run  and  found  that  the  sheep 
had  evidently  fared  better  when  they  had  kept 
on  higher  ground.  It  was  curious  to  see  the 
tops  of  the  little  Ti-ti  palms,  some  ten  or  twelve 
feet  high,  entirely  nibbled  off  where  the  sheep 
had  clustered  round  them,  and,  as  the  snow  fell, 
mounted  higher  and  higher  until  they  could  reach 
the  green  leaves.  In  those  days  all  the  flocks 
were  pure  or  half-bred  merino  ;  active,  hardy  little 
black-faced  sheep,  tasting  like  Welsh  mutton,  and 
delicious  eating.  On  these  excursions  we  often 
came  upon  dead  wild-pigs,  boars  cased  in  hides  an 
inch  thick,  which  had  perished  through  sheer  stress 
of  weather.  It  was  wonderful  to  think  that  thin- 
skinned  animals,  with  only  a  few  months'  growth 
of  fine  merino  wool  on  their  backs,  could  have 
survived. 

During  the  long  bright  summer  which  followed, 
we  used  often  to  ask  each  other  if  it  could  be  true 
that  hills  had  apparently  been  levelled  and  valleys 


OLD   NEW  ZEALAND  31 

filled  up  by  the  heaviest  snowstorm  ever  known. 
But  when  we  looked  at  the  Ti-ti  palms  with  their 
topmost  leaves  gnawed  to  the  stump,  we  realised 
that  the  sheep  must  have  been  standing  on  eight 
or  nine  feet  of  snow  to  reach  them.  When  the 
survivors  came  to  be  shorn,  it  was  plainly  to  be  seen 
by  the  sort  of  "  nick  "  in  the  fleece,  where  their 
three  weeks'  imprisonment  had  evidently  checked 
the  growth  of  the  wool.  Many  of  the  hardiest 
wethers  must  have  been  without  food  for  that 
time,  as  the  pasturage  was  either  under  snow  or 
flooded. 

In  looking  back  on  that  tragic  time,  its  only 
bright  memory  is  connected  with  tobogganing  on 
a  rough  but  giant  scale,  and  I  greatly  wonder 
any  of  us  survived  that  form  of  amusement.  By 
the  time  every  possible  thing  had  been  done  for 
the  surviving  sheep,  the  snow  had  disappeared 
from  all  but  the  steep  weather-side  of  the  en- 
circling hills,  so  our  slides  had  to  be  arranged  on 
very  dangerous  slopes. 

The  sledges  on  which  these  perilous  journeys 
were  made  consisted  of  a  couple  of  short  planks 
nailed  together,  with  a  batten  across  for  one's 
feet  to  rest  on,  and  half  a  shears  for  a  brake.  If 
the  gentlemen  would  only  have  made  these  rapid 
descents  alone !  But  they  insisted  on  my  being 
a  constant  passenger.  No  one  who  has  not  gone 
through  it  can  imagine  the  sensation  of  being 


32  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

launched  on  a  bit  of  board  down  a  mountain  side  ! 
And  yet  there  must  have  been  a  fearful  joy  in  it, 
because  after  turning  round  and  round  many  times 
as  one  flew  over  the  hard  snow  surface,  and  arriving 
in  a  heap,  head  foremost,  in  a  snowdrift,  one  was 
quite  ready  to  try  again.  Luckily  another  north- 
west gale  set  in,  and  when  it  had  blown  itself 
out  there  were  too  many  sharp-pointed  rocks  stick- 
ing up  out  of  the  remaining  snow  to  make  our  mad 
descents  practicable. 


Ill 

OLD  NEW  ZEALAND— Continued 

I  WONDER  if  "  swaggers  "  have  been  improved  off 
the  face  of  the  country  districts  of  New  Zealand  ? 
Tramps  one  would  perhaps  have  called  them  in  Eng- 
land, and  yet  they  were  hardly  tramps  so  much  as 
men  of  a  roving  disposition,  who  wandered  about 
asking  for  work,  and  they  really  could  and  did  work 
if  wanted.  They  nearly  always  appeared,  with  their 
"  swag  "  (a  roll  of  red  blankets)  on  their  backs, 
about  sunset,  and  it  was  etiquette  for  them  to  offer 
to  chop  wood  before  shelter  was  suggested.  A  good 
meal  of  tea,  mutton,  and  bread  followed  as  a  matter 
of  course,  and  a  shakedown  in  some  shed.  In  the 
early  morning,  if  there  was  no  employment  forth- 
coming, the  "  swagger  "  would  fetch  water,  chop 
more  wood,  or  do  anything  he  was  asked,  before 
he  got  some  more  food  and  left.  They  always 
seemed  very  quiet,  decent  men,  and  perfectly 
honest.  Indeed,  a  missing  pair  of  boots  (after- 
wards found  to  have  only  been  mislaid)  raised  a 
great  commotion  in  the  whole  country-side  until 
they  were  found,  and  I  suspect  the  owner  had  to 
apologise  abjectly  to  all  the  "  swaggers  "  ! 

33  C 


34  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

The  invariable  custom  of  the  "  swagger  "  only 
appearing  at  sunset  made  it  all  the  more  wonder- 
ful when  I  found  one  crouched  in  a  corner  of  the 
verandah  at  dawn  one  bitter  winter's  morning. 
Now  I  was  not  at  all  in  the  habit  of  getting  up 
at  daylight  in  winter,  but  it  was  a  glorious  morning 
after  nearly  a  week  of  wretched  wet  and  cold 
weather.  Some  demon  of  restlessness  must  have 
induced  me  to  jump  up,  huddle  on  a  warm  dress- 
ing-gown and  start  on  a  window-opening  expedi- 
tion, which  led  me  shortly  to  the  little  hall-door. 
This  I  also  opened  to  let  in  the  fast-coming  sunshine, 
and  I  nearly  tumbled  over  the  most  forlorn  object 
it  is  possible  to  imagine.  At  first  I  thought  that 
a  heap  of  wet  and  dirty  clothes  lay  at  my  feet, 
but  a  shaggy  head  uprose  and  a  feeble  voice 
muttered,  "  I'm  fair  clemmed."  Such  wistful  eyes, 
like  a  lost,  starving  dog,  glanced  at  me,  and  then 
the  head  dropped  back.  I  thought  the  man  was 
dead  or  dying,  and  I  flew  to  wake  up  F.  and  to 
fetch  my  medicine  bottle  of  brandy.  But  I  could 
not  get  any  down  his  throat  until  F.  arrived  on 
the  scene  and  turned  the  poor  creature  over  on 
his  back.  By  this  time  I  had  roused  up  the 
"  cadet,"  and  also  got  my  maids  hurriedly  out  of 
bed.  My  tale  was  so  pitiful  that  the  warm-hearted 
Irish  cook — in  the  scantiest  toilet — was  lighting 
the  kitchen  fire  by  the  time  F.  and  Mr.  U.  brought 
the  poor  man  in.  Water  was  literally  streaming 


OLD   NEW   ZEALAND  35 

from  him,  and  the  first  thing  to  be  done  was  to 
get  him  out  of  his  sodden  clothes.  Contributions 
from  the  two  gentlemen  were  soon  forthcoming, 
and  after  a  brief  retirement  into  my  store-room, 
the  wretched  "  swagger  "  emerged,  dry  indeed,  but 
the  image  of  exhaustion  and  starvation.  Warm 
bread  and  milk  every  two  hours  was  all  we  dared 
give  him  that  day,  and  he  slept  and  slept  as  if 
he  never  meant  to  wake  again. 

I  forget  how  many  days  passed  before  he  had 
at  all  recovered,  and  by  that  time  my  maids  had 
cleaned  and  mended  his  clothes  in  a  surprising 
manner,  and  he  had,  himself,  cobbled  up  his  boots. 
A  hat  had  to  be  provided  and  a  pipe,  but  we  could 
not  spare  any  blankets  for  the  "  swag."  How- 
ever, though  he  hardly  spoke  to  any  one,  he  told 
Mr.  U.  he  felt  quite  able  to  start  next  day,  and 
F.  elicited  from  him  with  some  difficulty — for  it 
was  against  "  swagger "  etiquette  ever  to  com- 
plain of  the  treatment  of  one  station-holder  to 
another — that  at  the  very  beginning  of  that  bad 
weather  he  had  found  himself  at  sundown  at  a 
station  about  a  dozen  miles  further  back  in  the 
hills,  and  had  been  refused  shelter.  The  man 
pointed  out  that  he  did  not  know  the  track  over 
a  difficult  saddle,  that  very  bad  weather  was  evi- 
dently coming  on,  and  that  he  had  no  food,  but 
he  was  ruthlessly  turned  off  and  seemed  soon  to 
have  lost  his  way.  He  wandered  some  days — he 
did  not  know  how  many — without  food  or  shelter, 


36  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

pelted  by  the  merciless  and  continuous  storm ; 
his  pipe  and  blankets  soon  got  lost  in  one  of 
the  numerous  bog-holes,  and  he  really  did  not 
know  how  he  found  his  way  to  our  verandah, 
or  how  long  before  dawn  he  had  been  lying  there, 
I  must  say  it  was  the  only  instance  I  heard  of 
brutality  to  a  "  swagger "  whilst  I  was  in  New 
Zealand. 

Well,  by  the  next  morning  I  had  ceased  to  think 
about  the  "  swagger,"  and  when  I  looked  out  of  my 
window  to  enjoy  the  delicious  crisp  air  and  the 
sunshine,  I  saw  my  friend  coming  round  the  corner 
of  the  house,  evidently  prepared  to  start.  He 
looked  round,  but  I  had  slipped  behind  the  window 
curtain,  so  he  saw  no  one.  To  my  deep  surprise, 
the  man  dropped  on  his  knees  upon  the  little  gravel 
path,  took  off  his  hat,  and  poured  forth  the  most 
impassioned  prayer  for  all  the  dwellers  beneath 
the  roof  which  had  given  him  shelter.  Not  a  soul 
was  stirring,  so  he  could  not  have  been  doing  it  for 
effect,  and  he  certainly  had  not  seen  me.  I  felt 
as  if  I  had  no  right  to  listen,  for  it  was  as  though 
he  were  laying  bare  his  soul.  First,  there  was  his 
deep  thankfulness  for  his  own  preservation  most 
touchingly  expressed,  and  then  he  prayed  for 
every  blessing  on  each  and  all  of  us,  and,  finally, 
as  he  rose  from  his  knees,  he  signed  the  Cross  over 
the  little  roof-tree  which  had  sheltered  him  in 
his  hour  of  need.  And  we  had  all  thought  him  a 
silent  and  somewhat  ungracious  man ! 


OLD   NEW  ZEALAND  37 

I  really  cannot  believe  that  I  often  rode  fifty 
miles  to  a  ball,  or  rather  two  balls,  danced  all  night 
for  two  successive  nights,  and  rode  back  again  the 
next  day  !  The  railway  was  even  then  creeping 
up  the  plains  and  saved  us  the  last  twenty-five 
miles  of  the  road.  These  same  balls  were  almost 
the  only  form  of  society  in  those  days,  for  dinner- 
parties were  impossible  for  want  of  anything  but 
the  most  elementary  service.  Certainly  there  were 
bazaars  sometimes,  but  I  do  not  remember  riding 
fifty  miles  for  any  of  them  !  Such  amusing  things 
used  to  happen  at  these  balls,  which,  no  doubt, 
were  very  primitive,  but  we  all  enjoyed  them  too 
much  to  be  critical. 

On  one  occasion  the  Governor  had  come  to 
Chris tchurch  for  some  political  reason,  and  of 
course  there  were  balls  to  welcome  him.  He  had 
brought  down  some  Maori  chieftains  with  him ; 
rumour  said  he  was  afraid  to  leave  them  behind 
in  the  North  Island,  where  the  seat  of  Government 
used  to  be  and  still  is.  Now  I  was  very  curious  to 
see  these  chieftains,  and  it  was  somewhat  of  a 
shock  to  behold  tall,  well-built,  dark-hued  men 
faultlessly  clad  in  correct  evening-dress,  but  with 
tattooed  faces.  Presently  one  of  the  stewards  of 
the  ball  came  to  me  and  said  : — 

"  Te  Henare  wants  very  much  to  dance  these 
Lancers ;  I  should  be  so  grateful  if  you  would 
dance  with  him." 

"  Certainly,"  I  answered  ;  "  but  can  he  dance  ?  " 


38  COLONIAL    MEMORIES 

"Oh,  he  will  soon  pick  it  up,  and  you'd  have  an 
interpreter." 

Te  Henare,  who  had  been  watching  the  result 
of  the  mission,  now  approached,  made  me  a  beau- 
tiful bow,  offered  his  arm  most  correctly,  and 
we  took  our  places  at  the  side,  closely  followed 
by  the  interpreter.  I  discovered  through  this 
gentleman  that  my  dusky  partner  had  never  seen 
a  ball  or  social  gathering  of  any  sort  before,  and 
that  he  had  learned  his  bow  and  how  to  claim 
his  partner  since  he  entered  the  room.  Of  course, 
we  danced  in  silence,  and  indeed  I  was  fully  occu- 
pied in  admiring  the  extraordinary  rapidity  with 
which  Te  Henare  mastered  the  intricacies  of  the 
dance.  He  never  made  a  single  mistake  in  any 
part  which  he  had  seen  the  top  couples  do  first, 
and  when  I  had  to  guide  him  he  understood 
directly.  It  was  a  wonderful  set  of  Lancers,  and 
when  it  was  over  I  told  the  interpreter  that  I  was 
quite  astonished  to  see  how  well  Te  Henare  danced. 
This  little  compliment  was  duly  repeated,  and  I 
could  not  imagine  why  the  interpreter  laughed  at 
the  answer.  Te  Henare  seemed  very  anxious  that 
it  should  be  passed  on  to  me  and  was  most  serious 
about  it,  so  I  insisted  on  being  told.  It  seems  the 
poor  chieftain  had  said  with  a  deep  sigh,  "Ah, 
if  I  might  only  dance  without  my  clothes  !  No 
one  could  really  dance  in  these  horrid  things  !  " 

Te  Henare  apologised  through  the  interpreter 
for  his  tattooed  face.  His  cheeks  were  decorated 


OLD   NEW  ZEALAND  39 

with  spiral  dark-blue  curves,  and  his  forehead 
bore  an  excellent  copy  of  a  sea-shell.  The  poor 
man  was  deeply  ashamed  of  his  tattoo,  and  said 
he  would  give  anything  to  get  rid  of  the  disfiguring 
marks,  and  so  would  the  other  chieftains,  adding 
pathetically,  "  Until  we  came  here  we  were  proud 
of  them." 

I  must  confess  I  got  rather  tired  of  poor  Te 
Henare,  and  indeed  of  all  the  chieftains,  for  they 
insisted  on  coming  to  call  on  me  next  day  for  the 
purpose  of  letting  me  hear  some  Maori  music.  I 
cannot  truthfully  say  I  enjoyed  it.  Every  song 
seemed  to  have  at  least  fifty  verses  as  well  as  a 
refrain.  Fortunately,  they  did  not  sing  loudly, 
but  there  was  no  tune  beyond  a  bar  or  two,  and 
the  monotony  was  maddening.  The  interpreter 
and  I  tried  in  vain  to  stop  them,  and  at  last  I 
went  away,  leaving  them  still  singing,  quite  happily, 
what  I  was  informed  was  "  a  love-song."  It  seemed 
more  in  the  nature  of  a  lullaby. 

I  fear  it  is  an  unusual  confession  for  a  staid 
elderly  woman  to  make,  but  I  certainly  enjoyed 
those  unconventional — what  might  almost  be  called 
rough — days  more  than  the  long  years  of  official 
routine  and  luxury  which  followed  them.  But 
then  one  looks  back  on  those  days  through  the 
softening  haze  of  time  and  distance,  of  youth  and 
health  ;  and  one  realises  that  after  all  "  the  greatest 
of  these  is  Love." 


IV 
A    MODERN    NEW    ZEALAND 

THE  passage  of  over  a  quarter  of  a  century  has 
of  course  made  a  great  change  all  over  the  world 
in  the  matter  of  education,  but  probably  nowhere 
would  that  change  be  more  apparent  than  in  New 
Zealand.  Even  in  less  than  ten  years  after  I 
had  left  the  Colony,  two  thousand  schools  had 
been  started  under  a  new  law,  with  a  roll  of  two 
hundred  thousand  scholars.  What  must  they 
number  now  ?  There  are  Schools  for  natives  and 
Schools  for  the  deaf  and  dumb  and  for  the  blind, 
Schools  of  Mines  and  Schools  of  Science,  Technical 
Schools,  and  a  fine  Agricultural  College  in 
Canterbury. 

But  in  my  day  very  few  of  the  working  men  I 
came  across,  as  our  shepherds,  shearers,  and  so 
forth,  could  read  at  all.  One  can  hardly  realise 
it,  but  so  it  was,  and  one  of  the  first  things  I  did 
was  to  start  a  sort  of  night  school  for  these  stalwart 
Empire-builders,  in  which,  alas  !  I  was  the  only 
teacher.  The  population  was  so  thin  and  so 
scattered  in  those  distant  days  that  these  men's 
lives  were  necessarily  very  lonely,  and  those  who 


A    MODERN    NEW   ZEALAND  41 

could  read  at  all  eagerly  joined  a  little  lending 
library,  or  rather  a  Book  and  Magazine  Club, 
which  I  set  going.  At  first  I  had  only  thought 
of  providing  literature  for  our  neighbours — any 
one  within  fifty  miles  was  a  neighbour — but  the 
shepherds  begged  to  join,  and  of  course  I  was 
delighted  to  enrol  them. 

Looking  back  on  those  days,  I  fear  the  comic 
side  of  that  educational  attempt  chiefly  asserts 
itself.  My  pupils — only  four  or  five  at  a  time — 
were  so  big  and  so  desperately  shy.  One  gigantic 
Yorkshireman  would  only  read,  or  rather  attempt 
to  read,  with  his  broad  back  turned  to  me.  Others 
almost  wept  over  their  difficulties.  It  really  in- 
volved far  more  trouble  on  their  part  than  on 
mine,  for  they  had  often  some  distance  to  ride, 
and  over  such  trackless  hills  and  swamps.  It  was 
found  almost  impracticable  to  have  any  set  evening 
for  the  lessons,  as  sometimes  weather,  and  some- 
times their  duties  interfered  ;  so  at  last  it  was 
settled  that  they  should  come  any  evening  they 
could  spare,  and  I  would  be  ready  for  them  by 
eight  o'clock  (so  primitive  was  our  dinner-hour !) 
in  the  little  dining-room.  Certainly  the  seeds  of 
knowledge  are  very  difficult  to  plant  in  later  life, 
for  intelligent  as  these  men  evidently  were,  and 
most  eager  to  learn  to  read  and  write,  they  made 
but  little  progress  under  my  tuition.  Perhaps  I 
was  a  bad  teacher,  for  I  had  only  the  experience 


42  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

of  my  own  little  boys'  very  first  lessons  to 
guide  me. 

Some  of  the  incidental  difficulties  were  very 
absurd.  Two  men  lived  in  a  hut  up  a  lonely  and 
distant  river-gorge,  who  were  among  my  earliest 
pupils,  and  they  also  came  regularly  on  Sunday 
to  the  little  afternoon  service.  But  they  never 
came  together,  and  their  brand-new  suit  of 
shepherd's  plaid  had  always  a  strange  effect.  First 
they  tried  my  gravity  by  invariably  stepping  up 
to  me  with  their  prayer-books  to  find  their  places 
for  them,  and  saying  loudly  each  time,  "  Thank 
you  kindly,  Mum."  I  dared  not  say  a  word  for 
fear  of  frightening  them  away.  But  one  day  I 
ventured  to  ask  why  they  could  not  come  together, 
either  to  the  lessons  or  the  service,  and  was  in- 
formed that  the  clothes  were  the  difficulty. 

"  You  see,  it's  this  way,  Mum.  We've  only  got 
one  suit,  and  we  got  it  a  between-size  on  purpose. 
Joe,  he's  too  tall,  and  I'm  too  short,  so  I  turns  it 
up,  and  Joe  he  wears  leggin's  and  such  like,  and 
so  we  makes  it  do  till  after  shearin'." 

But  I  do  not  want  to  laugh  when  I  think  of  the 
last  time  I  met  my  bearded  pupils.  My  own  face 
was  set  towards  England  then,  and  I  had  to  say 
good-bye  to  the  happy  valley  and  to  my  scholars. 
They  were  made  shyer  than  ever  by  my  shaking 
hands  with  them,  and  only  one  said  a  farewell 
word.  "  To  England,  home  and  beauty,  of  course, 


A   MODERN    NEW   ZEALAND  43 

Mum,  you'd  be  glad  to  go,  but  it's  rough  on  us." 
This  cryptic  utterance  seemed  quite  to  express 
his  and  his  "  mate's "  meaning,  though  it  still 
remains  dark  to  me. 

The  Canterbury  Plains  are  now  covered  with 
fields  of  wheat  and  all  kinds  of  agricultural  pro- 
duce. The  rare  "  English  grass  "  of  my  day  is 
almost  universal.  Except  in  the  very  back-country 
stations,  the  little  hardy  merino  sheep  has  given 
way  to  the  more  substantial  Southdown,  whose 
frozen  carcase  comes  back  to  us  in  the  shape  of 
excellent  mutton.  Comfortable  homesteads  are 
within  hailing  distance  of  each  other.  Railways, 
telegraphs,  telephones,  and  all  the  latest  scientific 
annihilators  of  time  and  space  are  thickly  planted 
everywhere.  I  used  to  look  down  the  valley  on 
to  certain  white  cliffs  which  seemed  to  bound  my 
view  in  that  direction,  and,  speaking  of  it  the 
other  day,  some  one  said,  "Oh,  the  terminus  of 
the  nearest  railway  to  your  old  '  run '  stands 
there  now."  I  cannot  realise  that  the  whistle  of 
an  engine  has  taken  the  place  of  the  shrill  scream 
of  a  huge  hawk — more  like  an  eagle  than  a  hawk 
— which  haunted  that  lonely  spot. 

But  perhaps  the  greatest  difference  of  all  would 
be  found  in  the  sport. 

In  my  day  there  was  absolutely  nothing  except 
the  wild  boars,  and  the  difficulties  of  introducing 
game  seemed  at  first  insurmountable.  Mr.  Frank 


44  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

Buckland  sent  out  quantities  of  salmon  ova  packed 
in  ice,  of  which  hardly  a  single  specimen  survived 
the  long  voyage.  Then  people  told  me  that  the 
New  Zealand  rivers  were  impossible  to  stock, 
owing  to  a  bad  habit  they  had  of  constantly 
changing  their  beds  without  warning.  It  is  true 
that  I  saw  that  happen  at  those  very  white  cliffs 
I  have  just  spoken  of,  where,  after  an  unusually 
violent  hot  north  -  west  gale  which  melted  the 
snows  in  the  mountains,  the  river  running  beneath 
those  cliffs  changed  its  course  entirely  during  one 
night,  cutting  another  wide  and  deep  channel  for 
itself  over  very  good  grazing  ground,  and  leaving 
the  owner  of  that  particular  spot  with  a  vast 
extent  of  shingle-covered  river-bed  in  exchange, 
on  which,  as  he  pathetically  said,  "  a  grasshopper 
could  not  find  enough  green  meat." 

One  can  easily  understand  that  respectable  stay- 
at-home  English  fish  would  not  be  able  to  shift 
their  quarters  at  such  short  notice,  but  yet  I  am 
now  assured  that  a  good  basket  of  trout  can 
be  landed  from  almost  any  New  Zealand  stream. 
They  must  have  become  very  "  mobile " !  I 
wonder  if  any  of  these  same  fish  are  the  descendants 
of  what  I  always  regarded  as  my  trout ! 

This  was  the  way  of  it.  Not  long  before  we 
left  New  Zealand,  one  of  our  squatter  neighbours, 
who  was  anxious  to  stock  a  fine  stream  running 
through  his  property,  offered  to  give  a  home  and 


A   MODERN    NEW   ZEALAND  45 

a  chance  to  some  of  the  newly-imported  trout  ova. 
I  happened  to  meet  him  on  one  of  my  rare  visits 
to  Chris tchurch,  and  inquired  as  to  the  progress 
of  his  trout  plans.  I  suppose  that  put  the  idea 
into  his  head,  for  he  first  asked  when  we  were 
returning  to  our  station,  and  then  earnestly  en- 
treated to  be  allowed  to  drive  me  back  in  a  sort  of 
buggy  or  gig  he  possessed.  I  greatly  preferred 
riding,  and  told  him  so,  but  he  seemed  most  anxious 
for  my  company,  and  finally  said  he  would  speak 
to  F.  about  it.  I  felt  quite  willing  to  abide  by 
his  decision,  which  I  flattered  myself  would  be 
that  I  must  certainly  ride  back  with  him.  But 
to  my  dismay  F.  said,  "  I  think  you  had  better 

drive  with ."     So  there  was  no  help  for  it,  and 

at  the  appointed  early  hour  Mr.  drove  up, 

I  was  packed  into  the  buggy,  and  then  the  whole 
villainous  scheme  revealed  itself !  I  was  wanted 
to  carry  a  small  pail  full  of  trout  ova,  carefully, 
so  that  it  should  not  be  jolted  or  spill.  My  whole 
attention  and  my  every  thought  were  to  be  de- 
voted to  that  sole  object.  I  must  not  move  or 
talk ;  I  must  think  of  nothing  but  that  pail. 

Mr.  assured  me  later  that  his  mind  would 

be  entirely  fixed  on  avoiding  every  stone  or  even 
inequality  on  the  road,  so  that  the  precious  freight 
might  not  be  jeopardised.  And  I  had  seventy-five 
miles  before  me  !  If  we  came  to  a  really  rough 
bit  of  road,  I  had  to  hold  that  pail  out,  on  the 


46  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

principle  of  a  swinging  cot  at  sea.  Fortunately, 
there  was  a  halt  in  the  middle  of  the  day,  but  only 
for  the  benefit  of  the  ova  ;  however,  my  aching 
arms  got  just  a  little  rest.  To  make  my  sense 
of  hardship  more  acute,  F.  rode  near  us  most  of 
the  way,  and  constantly  added  his  entreaties  to 
me  to  "be  very  careful."  Later,  I  arrived  at 
feeling  a  certain  sense  of  pride  in  having  conveyed 
those  ova  so  carefully  that  they  all  survived  the 
journey,  but  at  the  time  I  well  remember  my 
suppressed  indignation  and  burning  sense  of  injury 
at  having  been  entrapped  as  a  trout-carrier.  But 
that  only  lasted  so  long  as  did  the  fatigue  of  my 
cramped  position. 

There  has  always  been  very  good  sea-fishing 
almost  everywhere  on  the  coast,  but  we  lived  too 
far  off  to  enjoy  it.  When,  however,  we  went  to 
Christchurch  it  was  always  a  great  treat  to  have 
at  every  meal  the  whitebait  the  Maoris  sold  in 
pretty  little  baskets  of  woven  flax-leaves. 

I  see  in  the  latest  accounts  that  our  own  familiar 
"  Selwyn  "  is  quite  a  favourite  trout  stream,  but 
in  the  more  distant  big  lakes,  where  the  fish  attain 
quite  a  large  size,  the  water  is  so  clear  that  a  rod 
is  useless,  and  netting  is  the  only  chance. 

Some  means  must  have  been  found  of  keeping 
down  the  "weeka,"  tamest  and  most  impudent 
of  apteryx.  Very  like  a  stout  hen  pheasant  itself, 
only  without  the  tail  feathers,  it  used  to  be  the 


A    MODERN    NEW  ZEALAND  •         47 

sworn  foe  of  pheasants  in  my  day.  It  ate  their 
eggs  or  killed  the  young  birds.  Many  and  doleful 
were  the  tales  told  of  the  wholesale  massacre  of 
the  pioneer  pheasant  broods  by  the  weekas,  who 
seemed  numerous  as  the  sands  of  the  sea-shore. 
Dogs  hunted  them,  men  shot  them,  but  in  both 
cases  they  were  as  elusive  as  the  Boers,  gliding 
from  tussock  to  tussock,  and  when  forced  into 
the  open,  running  almost  faster  than  the  eye  could 
follow.  To  all  my  "  bush "  picnics  the  weekas 
invited  themselves  and  cleared  up  every  crumb. 
It  would  have  needed  a  pack  of  terriers  to  keep 
them  off,  and  although  "  Nettle  "  did  his  best  he 
made  no  impression  on  the  marauders.  They  were 
not  good  to  eat,  but  the  shepherds  extracted  an 
oil  from  the  fat,  which  they  declared  made  boots 
and  leggings  waterproof.  Still,  weekas  had  it  very 
much  their  own  way  at  that  date.  I  see  that 
hares  and  also  Calif ornian  quail  and  plover  flourish 
nowadays,  and  I  know  the  wild-duck  were  always 
plentiful  and  delicious  eating. 

There  was  a  talk  of  importing  deer  even  thirty- 
five  years  ago,  but  the  idea  did  not  find  favour 
in  the  eyes  of  the  run-holders.  The  fences  were 
only  three  or  four  wires  high,  and  would  of  course 
be  no  protection  to  the  sheep,  whose  feed  would 
be  at  the  mercy  of  the  new-comer.  It  was  known 
that  two  hinds  and  a  stag  had  been  turned  out  in 
some  well-grassed  and  forested  low  ranges  in  the 


48  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

North  Island  as  early  as  1862,  but  one  did  not 
hear  anything  of  them  as  either  a  danger  or  a 
pleasure.  They  were  the  only  survivors  of  a  batch 
sent  from  Windsor  Forest  by  the  late  Prince 
Consort.  The  conditions  must  have  been  ideally 
favourable,  for  they  have  now  spread  all  over 
the  place,  and  afford  excellent  sport.  Red  deer 
seem  to  do  well  in  our  island  (the  Middle),  though 
I  do  not  fancy  they  have  come  at  all  near  the  part 
I  knew.  A  few  moose  have  been  turned  out  on 
the  West  Coast  of  the  same  Island,  and  there  is 
even  a  talk  of  importing  wapiti  and  cariboo.  But 
any  one  who  wishes  to  know  all  about  New  Zealand 
— fur,  fin,  and  feathers — cannot  do  better  than 
study,  as  I  have  done  with  the  greatest  pleasure 
and  profit,  a  delightful  booklet  by  Mr.  R.  A. 
Loughman,  of  the  Lands  and  Survey  Department 
in  Wellington,  which  no  doubt  can  be  procured 
at  the  Agent  General  for  New  Zealand's  Office.  It 
makes  one  wish  to  set  off  directly  for  that  favoured 
though  distant  shore,  and  Mr.  Loughman  asserts 
that  numbers  of  sportsmen  arrive  there  every  year. 
I  heard  a  great  deal  of  modern  New  Zealand 
when  the  Imperial  Representative  Corps  came  back 
from  their  wonderful  tour  round  Australia  and 
New  Zealand  three  years  ago.  It  was  most  interest- 
ing and  delightful  to  listen  to  the  accounts  of  the 
progress  everywhere  ;  but  as  I  had  been  so  very 
much  longer  away  from  New  Zealand,  the  mar- 


A    MODERN    NEW   ZEALAND  49 

vellous  changes  there  took  more  hold  of  my 
imagination,  and  I  was  delighted  to  be  told  by  all 
that  it  was  still  the  most  English  place  they  visited. 

There  was  much  to  occupy  the  public  mind  at 
home  just  then,  and  I  have  often  felt  that  we 
rather  missed  the  value  and  significance  of  that 
tour,  especially  as  it  was  somewhat  overshadowed 
and  crowded  out  by  the  rapture  and  magnificence 
of  the  welcome  extended  to  their  Royal  Highnesses 
the  Duke  and  Duchess  of  Cornwall  and  York  almost 
directly  afterwards. 

We  were  still  in  the  midst  of  the  war  in  South 
Africa,  and  then,  just  after  the  Imperial  Contingent 
left  Sydney,  to  which  it  first  went  to  take  part  in 
the  ceremonies  marking  the  Inauguration  of  the 
Australian  Commonwealth,  the  Empire  had  to 
mourn  the  loss  of  its  beloved  Queen,  and  nowhere 
was  the  grief  more  personal  and  profound  than 
on  those  distant  shores.  As  the  Commandant1 
told  me,  although  the  sad  news  spoiled  in  a  way 
the  gaiety  and  tdat  of  the  greeting  provided  for 
the  troops,  still  it  was  far  more  impressive  to  see 
the  genuine  grief  and  regret  which  the  width  of  the 
world  could  not  weaken.  Memorial  services  every- 
where took  the  place  of  balls,  and  the  "  Soldiers 
of  the  Queen  "  shared,  with  the  splendid  Colonial 
forces  who  were  just  then  springing  to  arms  at  the 
Empire's  call,  in  honouring  her  dear  memory. 

1  Lieut.-Colonel  Crole-Wyndham,  C.B.,  2ist  Lancers. 

D 


50  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

But  by  the  time  Invercargill,  the  most  southern 
point  of  New  Zealand,  had  been  reached,  the  first 
dark  days  of  sorrow  had  passed,  and  the  people 
could  better  give  free  scope  to  their  hospitable 
instincts,  and  they  greeted  the  Contingent  with 
the  heartiest  welcome.  The  last  time  British 
troops  had  touched  New  Zealand  shores  it  was  to 
fight  the  Maoris,  who  now  stood  first  and  foremost 
in  the  cheering  crowd,  and  delivered  addresses  of 
welcome  with  the  be'st. 

The  straight  run  down  from  the  extreme  south 
of  Middle  Island  brought  them  in  due  time,  through 
those  great  Canterbury  Plains  where  harvesting 
was  in  full  swing,  down  to  Christchurch,  and  so 
on  to  Lyttelton.  But  there  was  always  time, 
apparently,  for  delightful  little  picturesque  episodes, 
such  as  stopping  the  train  to  let  the  detachment 
of  Seaforth  Highlanders  march,  with  pipes  play- 
ing, to  visit  one  of  the  most  prominent  Scotch 
settlers,  a  man  who  had  given  his  life's  work  to 
the  beautiful  new  land.  Fancy  what  a  dramatic 
moment !  To  hear  the  war-pipes  skirl,  and  the 
old  tunes  played,  all  in  one's  own  honour  and  in 
recognition  of  splendid  service  ! 

Then  the  thousand  troops  were  taken  on  by  sea 
to  Wellington  and  shown  everything  in  the  length 
and  breadth  of  all  the  fair  land  ;  up  to  the  won- 
derful hot  springs  at  Rotarua,  down  to  the  deer- 
stocked  islands  off  Auckland.  Everywhere,  not 


A   MODERN    NEW  ZEALAND  51 

only  did  they  receive  a  rapturous  welcome  from 
the  cheering  crowds,  but  there  were  many  historic 
and  picturesque  moments  in  which  the  Maoris 
formed  the  central  figures.  I  should  like  to  have 
seen  the  old  Maori  chieftain,  after  the  "  haka  " 
or  native  dance,  fling  his  tasselled  spear  at  the 
Commandant's  feet,  saying,  "  For  four  hundred 
years  this  taiaha  has  been  handed  down  from  father 
to  son,  from  son  to  grandson.  But  you  and  I 
alike  are  sons  of  our  King,  who  rules  in  the  place 
of  the  Queen  we  have  lost.  Take  it,  and  let  it 
descend  to  your  children's  children." 

Thrilling  also  must  have  been  the  sight  of  the 
veterans  of  former  wars,  now  peaceful  citizens,  end- 
ing their  days  in  comfort  in  these  distant  lands, 
yet,  like  the  war-horse  of  Bible  story,  pricking  up 
their  ears  and  joining  their  new  comrades.  At  all 
the  reviews  there  the  veteran  sailors  and  soldiers 
were,  marshalled  in  the  old  form  and  given  pro- 
minent places ;  they  themselves,  with  their  medal- 
covered  breasts,  being  objects  of  honour  to  the 
gorgeous  visitors.  And  quite  as  thrilling  must  have 
been  the  ranks  of  cadets  who  lined  the  streets  here 
and  there.  My  own  heart  has  often  gone  out  to 
these  chubby  boy-soldiers  when  I  have  seen  them 
—first  at  Adelaide  in  1883,  later  in  Western 
Australia,  where  the  youthful  corps  bore  my  name, 
and  was  known  as  my  "  Own  " — so  it  was  with  a 
peculiar  interest  that  I  read  part  of  a  speech  of  the 


52  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

Commandant's  when  he  was  leaving  Brisbane,  but 
it  applies  equally  well  to  the  cadet  corps  of  all  the 
large  New  Zealand  towns. 

"  What  pleased  me  most  in  the  march  through 
your  streets  to-day,  more  than  even  the  enthu- 
siastic greetings  of  the  Queenslanders,  was  nearly 
a  mile  of  boys  lining  the  road  by  the  railway 
station.  Hundreds  of  sturdy  youngsters,  every  one 
of  them  devouring  our  men  with  his  eyes  and  doing 
his  best  to  look  like  a  soldier  himself.  I  thought 
as  I  looked  at  their  bright,  keen  young  faces, 
*  there  are  our  future  Australian  contingents.' ' 

At  Auckland  there  was  one  newly- raised  detach- 
ment which  had  not  yet  got  its  uniform,  but  turned 
out  in  white  shirts  with  black  arm-bands  and 
Panama  hats.  These  sinewy,  workmanlike  "  bush- 
men  "  had  ridden  in  from  the  country  district  on 
their  own  horses — as  workmanlike  as  themselves — 
not  to  take  part  in  the  big  parade  which  every  one 
was  talking  about,  and  which  would  be  remembered 
for  years,  but  in  order  to  lend  the  Contingent  their 
horses.  Such  stories — stories  which  I  know  to  be 
true — show  me  that  after  all  the  lapse  of  years 
New  Zealand  still  remains  in  heart  the  Old  New 
Zealand  of  my  day. 

But,  speaking  of  medals,  I  was  much  amused  at 
hearing  that  the  youthful  volunteers  turned  out 
sometimes  quite  covered  with  medals,  extending  as 
far  back  as  the  first  Cape  war  and  going  on  to  the 


A   MODERN    NEW  ZEALAND  53 

Crimea  and  the  Mutiny.  On  its  being  remarked 
that  they  looked  very  young  to  have  taken  part 
in  such  distant  campaigns,  they  admitted  that  the 
medals  had  belonged  to  their  grandfathers  and 
fathers,  but  that  they  conceived  themselves  en- 
titled— as  did  many  others  who  were  not  even 
volunteers — to  wear  them,  and  could  see  nothing 
at  all  laughable  in  doing  so.  It  seemed  to  me  a 
very  wise  concession  on  the  part  of  the  Colonial 
authorities  to  permit  this,  as  a  recognition  of  the 
natural  pride  of  the  sons  of  such  men  in  their  an- 
cestors having  fought  for  the  Empire  in  bygone 
days,  for  they  evidently  regarded  the  medals  as  a 
link  binding  them  to  the  dear  old  Mother-land. 
However,  the  present  generation  will  proudly  wear 
medals  of  their  own  winning,  even  if  they  do  so 
side  by  side  with  those  gained  by  their  forefathers. 
Yes,  those  thousand  picked  men  of  that  fine  Imperial 
Contingent  will  have  been  so  many  Peace  mission- 
aries bringing  back  news  of  the  loyalty  as  well  as 
of  the  wealth  and  beauty  of  that  fair  England 
beyond  the  sea. 

Not  less  emphatically  will  these  tidings  be  en- 
dorsed by  the  welcome  extended  to  their  King's 
son  and  his  gracious  young  wife  when  they  too 
landed  on  those  smiling  shores  a  few  months  later. 
The  message  their  Royal  Highnesses  brought  was 
to  the  same  effect,  and  received  in  the  same  spirit 
of  love  and  gratitude.  At  all  events  it  will  not  be 


54  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

our  fault  if  our  kinsmen  beyond  the  sea,  especially 
in  the  Islands  of  New  Zealand,  do  not  understand 
how  we  valued  the  splendid  help  they  gave  the 
Empire  in  its  hour  of  need,  and  how  grateful  we 
are  for  it.  I  was  reading  a  little  while  ago  some  of 
the  evidence  taken  before  the  War  Commission 
last  year,  and  saw  that  one  of  the  Generals  was 
asked  if  he  had,  at  any  time,  any  of  the  many 
New  Zealand  Contingents  under  his  command.  "  I 
am  sorry  to  say  I  had  not,"  was  the  reply,  and  I 
felt  just  as  personally  proud  of  the  answer  as  though 
I  were  a  New  Zealander  myself,  and  all  for  the  sake 
of  those  dear  distant  days  and  the  good  friends 
who  helped  to  make  them  so  happy. 


NATAL   MEMORIES 

As  I  sit,  sad  and  alone  in  my  empty  home,  dreading 
the  cries  of  the  newspaper-boys  in  the  streets,  my 
thoughts  often  fly  back  to  the  "  Fair  Natal "  I  knew 
long  ago.  More  than  twenty-eight  years  have  passed 
since  I  last  saw  it.  Then,  as  now,  it  was  early 
summer-time.  The  wide,  well-watered  stretches  of 
veldt  were  brilliantly  green  and  covered  with 
blossom,  chiefly  lilies  and  cinerarias;  the  spruits 
were  running  like  Scotch  burns,  and  the  dreadful 
red  dust  of  the  winter  months  no  longer  obscured 
everything.  I  have  often,  between  April  and 
November,  not  known  what  was  within  an  ap- 
proaching bank  of  solid  red  cloud,  until  the  shouts 
of  the  unseen  little  "  Voor-looper "  warned  me 
that  a  huge  waggon  and  its  span  of  perhaps  twenty 
or  thirty  oxen  had  to  be  avoided. 

But  after  November,  dust  gives  place  to  mud  on 
the  roads — mud  of  a  singularly  tenacious  quality, 
formed  from  the  fertile  red  clay  soil.  I  don't 
believe  it  rains  anywhere  so  hard  as  it  does  in  Natal, 
and  during  the  summer  months  it  is  never  safe  to 

55 


56  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

part  for  a  single  hour  from  the  very  best  waterproof 
cloak  which  you  can  procure,  or  from  a  substantial 
umbrella.  Round  Maritzburg  a  thunderstorm 
raged  nearly  every  summer  afternoon,  coming  up 
about  three  o'clock.  But  when,  by  any  chance, 
that  thunderstorm  passed  us  by,  we  regretted  it 
bitterly,  for  the  oppressive,  suffocating  heat  was 
then  ever  so  much  worse.  Even  the  poor  fowls 
used  to  go  about  with  their  beaks  open  and  their 
wings  held  well  away  from  their  sides,  literally 
gasping  for  breath.  One  was  prepared  for  thunder- 
storms, even  on  the  largest  scale,  when  they  came 
up  with  the  usual  accompaniments  of  massed 
clouds,  rumbling  or  crashing  thunder,  and  were 
followed  by  a  deluge  of  rain  ;  but  I  could  not  get 
used  to  what  I  have  never  seen  anywhere  else,  and 
which  could  only  be  described  as  a  "  bolt  from  the 
blue." 

A  very  few  days  after  my  arrival  at  Maritzburg 
at  the  end  of  1875,  I  was  standing  one  afternoon 
in  the  shade  of  my  little  house  on  a  hill,  anxiously 
watching  the  picturesque  arrival  of  an  ox-waggon 
laden  with  my  boxes.  It  was  in  the  very  early 
summer,  and  the  exigencies  of  settling  in  left  me 
no  time  to  worry  about  the  thunderstorms,  of 
which,  of  course,  I  had  often  heard.  A  more 
serene  and  brilliant  afternoon  could  not  be  imagined, 
and  it  was  not  even  hot — at  all  events,  out  of  the 
sun.  My  two  small  boys,  as  usual,  trotted  after  me 


NATAL   MEMORIES  57 

like  dogs,  and  clamoured  to  assist  at  the  arrival  of 
the  waggon  ;  so  I  lifted  the  little  one  up  in  my  arms 
and  stood  there,  with  an  elder  boy  clinging  to  my 
skirts.  Suddenly,  out  of  the  blue  unclouded  sky, 
out  of  the  blaze  of  golden  sunshine,  came  a  flash 
and  a  crash  which  seemed  as  if  it  must  be  the  crack 
of  doom.  No  words  at  my  command  can  give  any 
idea  of  the  intolerable  blinding  glare  of  the  light 
which  seemed  to  wrap  us  round,  or  of  the  rending 
sound,  as  if  the  universe  were  being  torn  asunder. 
I  suppose  I  flung  myself  on  the  ground,  because  I 
was  crouching  there,  holding  the  little  boys  beneath 
me  with  some  sort  of  protective  instinct,  when  in 
a  second  or  two  of  time  it  had  all  passed,  for  I 
heard  only  a  slight  and  distant  rumble.  I  do  not 
believe  the  sun  had  ceased  shining  for  an  instant, 
though  its  light  had  seemed  to  be  extinguished  by 
that  blaze  of  fire.  Never  can  I  forget  my  amaze- 
ment, an  amazement  which  even  preceded  my  deep 
thankfulness  at  finding  we  were  absolutely  unhurt, 
the  fearless  little  boys  only  inquiring,  "What  was 
that,  Mummy  ?  "  There  had  been  no  time  for  their 
rosy  cheeks  even  to  pale.  I  wonder  what  colour 
/  was.  I  looked  at  the  little  stone  house  with 
astonishment  to  find  it  still  there,  for  I  had  expected 
to  see  nothing  but  a  heap  of  ruins.  Nay,  it  seemed 
miraculous  that  the  hills  all  round  should  still  be 
standing. 

I  only  saw  one  more  flash  equally  bad  during  my 


58  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

two  summers  in  Natal,  and  that  was  whilst  a 
thunderstorm  was  raging,  accompanied  by  terrific 
hail.  Of  course,  I  was  then  in  a  house  and  trying 
to  distract  my  thoughts  from  the  weather,  which  I 
knew  must  be  annihilating  my  lovely  garden,  by 
dispensing  afternoon  tea.  I  am  certain  that  flash 
came  down  upon  the  tea-tray,  for  when  I  lifted  up 
my  head  (I  defy  any  one  not  to  cower  before  a 
stream  of  electricity  which  seems  poured  upon  you 
out  of  a  jug),  I  felt  the  same  surprise  at  seeing  my 
cups  and  saucers  unshattered.  I  am  sure  they  had 
jumped  about,  for  I  heard  them,  but  they  had  re- 
covered their  equanimity  by  the  time  I  had. 
Almost  every  day  one  saw  in  the  newspapers  an 
account  of  some  death  by  lightning,  and  I  know 
of  one  only  too  true  story,  in  which  our  Kaffir 
washerman  was  the  victim.  He  had  left  our  house 
one  fine  Monday  morning  with  a  huge  bag  of  clothes 
on  his  back,  which  he  intended  to  wash  in  the  river 
at  the  foot  of  the  hill,  when  he  observed  one  of 
these  thunderstorms  coming  up  unusually  early, 
and  so  took  shelter  in  the  verandah  of  a  small 
cottage  by  the  roadside.  After  the  worst  of  the 
storm  had  passed  he  was  preparing  to  step  outside, 
when  a  violent  flash  and  a  deafening  thunderclap 
passed  over  the  little  house.  The  lightning  must 
have  been  attracted  by  a  nail  carelessly  sticking  up 
in  its  shingled  roof.  The  poor  Kaffir  chanced  to  be 
standing  exactly  beneath  this  nail  and  was  struck 


NATAL   MEMORIES  59 

down  dead  at  once.  I  was  told  that  he  was  in  the 
act  of  speaking,  promising  some  one  that  he  would 
return  the  same  way  that  very  afternoon. 

The  streets  of  Maritzburg  used,  in  my  day,  to  be 
mended  or  hardened  with  a  sort  of  ironstone  which 
abounds  in  the  district,  and  in  one  of  these  daily 
thunderstorms  it  was  not  uncommon  to  see  the  elec- 
tricity rising  up  as  it  were  from  the  ground  to  meet 
the  descending  fluid.  Of  course,  the  rivers  soon  be- 
come impassable,  and  I  have  a  vivid  recollection  of 
four  guests,  who  had  ridden  out  rather  earlier  than 
usual  one  afternoon  to  have  tea  with  me,  being 
kept  in  our  tiny  house  all  night.  More  than  one 
attempt  was  made  before  dark  to  find  and  use  the 
little  wooden  bridge  over  the  stream,  which  could 
hardly  be  called  a  river,  but  its  whereabouts  could 
not  even  be  perceived,  and  the  horses  steadily 
refused  to  go  out  of  their  depth.  So  there  was 
nothing  for  it  except  to  return,  drenched  to  the 
skin,  and  bivouac  under  our  very  small  roof  for 
the  night. 

And  yet  one  is  glad  of  these  same  rains  after 
the  long  dry  winter,  when  all  vegetation  seems  to 
disappear  off  the  baked  earth  and  the  cattle  be- 
come so  thin  that  it  is  a  wonder  the  gaunt  skeletons 
of  the  poor  trek-oxen  can  support  the  weight  of 
their  enormous  spreading  horns,  The  changes  of 
temperature  in  winter  were  certainly  very  trying. 
The  day  began  fresh  and  cold  and  bracing,  but  the 


60  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

brilliant  sunshine  soon  changed  that  into  what 
might  be  called  a  very  hot  English  summer's  day. 
About  four  o'clock,  when  the  sun  sloped  towards  the 
western  hills,  it  began  to  grow  cold  again,  and  no 
wrap  or  greatcoat  seemed  too  warm  to  put  on  then. 
By  night  one  was  only  too  glad  of  as  big  a  fire  on 
the  open  hearth  as  could  be  provided,  for  fuel  was 
scarce  and  very  expensive  in  those  days.  Doubt- 
less, the  railway  has  improved  all  those  conditions ; 
but  Natal,  as  far  as  I  saw  it,  is  not  a  well-wooded 
country,  except  on  the  Native  Reserves,  and  the 
only  forest — "  bush,"  as  they  call  it  in  Australia — 
which  I  saw,  cost  me  a  fifty-mile  ride  to  get  to  it ! 

Our  poor  Kaffir  servants  used  to  get  violent  and 
prostrating  colds  in  winter,  in  spite  of  each  being 
supplied  with  an  old  greatcoat  which  had  once  be- 
longed to  a  soldiej.  This  the  master  provides ; 
but  if  the  man  himself  can  raise  an  aged  and 
dilapidated  tunic  besides,  he  is  supremely  happy. 
Anything  so  grotesque  as  this  attire  cannot  well  be 
imagined,  for  the  red  garment  (it  was  almost  un- 
recognisable, as  eve,r  having  been  a  tunic  by  that 
time)  is  worn  with  perfectly  bare  legs,  a  feather 
or  two  stuck  jauntily  on  the  head  or  with  a  crown- 
less  hat,  and  the  true  dandy  adds  a  cartridge-case 
passed  through  a  wide  hole  in  the  lobe  of  his  ear 
and  filled  with  snuff !  Nor  will  any  Kaffir  stir  out 
of  doors  without  a  long  stick,  on  account  of  the 
snakes :  but  only  the  police  used  to  be  allowed  to 


NATAL   MEMORIES  61 

carry   the  knobkerry,  which  is   a   sort   of   South 
African  shillelagh  and  a  very  formidable  weapon. 

It  always  seemed  strange  to  me  that  a  climate 
which  was,  on  the  whole,  so  healthy  for  human 
beings  should  not  be  favourable  to  animal  life. 
Dogs  do  not  thrive  there  at  all,  and  soon  become 
infested  with  ticks.  One  heard  constantly  of  the 
native  cattle  being  decimated  by  strange  and  weird 
diseases,  and  horses,  especially  imported  horses, 
certainly  require  the  greatest  care.  They  must 
never  be  turned  out  whilst  the  dew  is  on  the  grass, 
unless  with  a  sort  of  muzzling  nosebag  on,  and 
the  snakes  are  a  perpetual  danger  to  them,  though 
the  bite  is  not  always  fatal,  for  there  are  many 
varieties  of  snakes  which  are  not  venomous.  Still, 
a  native  horse  is  always  on  the  look-out  for  snakes 
and  dreads  them  exceedingly.  One  night  I  was 
cantering  down  the  main  street  of  Maritzburg  on 
a  quiet  old  pony  on  my  way  to  the  Legislative 
Council,  where  I  wanted  to  hear  a  very  interesting 
debate  on  the  native  question  (which  was  the  burn- 
ing one  of  that  day),  and  my  pony  suddenly  leaped 
off  the  ground  like  an  antelope  and  then  shied  right 
across  the  road.  This  panic  arose  from  his  having 
stepped  on  a  thin  strip  of  zinc  cut  from  a  packing- 
case  which  must  have  been  opened,  as  usual,  outside 
the  store  or  large  shop  which  we  were  passing.  As 
soon  as  the  pony  put  his  foot  on  one  end  of  the 
long  curled-up  shaving,  it  must  have  risen  up  and 


62  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

struck  him  sharply,  waking  unpleasant  memories  of 
former  encounters  with  snakes. 

Railways  were  but  a  dream  of  the  near  future 
in  my  day.  Indeed,  the  first  sod  of  the  first  railway 
— that  between  Durban  and  Pietermaritzburg — was 
only  turned  on  January  i,  1876,  amid  great  en- 
thusiasm. A  mail-cart  made  a  tri-weekly  trip  be- 
tween th£  two  towns — fifty-two  miles  apart — and 
that  was  horsed,  but  on  anything  like  a  journey 
either  oxen  or  mules  were  used. 

I  have  seen  an  ox-wagon  arriving  at  a  ball,  with 
pretty  young  ladies  inside  its  sheltering  hood,  who 
had  been  seated  there  all  day  long,  having  started 
in  their  ball-dresses  directly  after  breakfast ! 
Mules  were  in  great  request  for  draught  purposes, 
and  up  to  a  point  they  answered  admirably,  jogging 
along  without  distress  over  bad  roads  which  would 
soon  have  knocked  up  even  the  staunchest  horses. 
But  a  mule  is  such  an  unreliable  animal,  and  his 
character  for  obstinacy  is,  thoroughly  well  deserved. 
When  a  mule,  or  a  team  of  mule's,  stops  on  a  par- 
ticularly sticky  bit  of  road,  no  power  on  earth  will 
move  him,  and  there  is  nothing  for  it  but  to  await 
his  good  pleasure.  I  have,  two  or  three  times, 
journeyed  behind  a  team  of  sixteen  mules,  and  I 
always  suffered  great  anxiety  lest  they  should 
cease  to  respond  to  the  incessant  cries  of  their 
"  Cape-boy  "  driver,  or  the  still  more  persuasive 
arguments  of  his  assistant,  who  bore  quite  a  collec- 


NATAL   MEMORIES  63 

tion  of  whips  of  different  lengths  for  emergencies. 
Happily  the  roads  were  then  in  fairly  good  order, 
and  beyond  a  tendency  to  drop  into  a  slow  walk 
at  the  slightest  hill  the  mules  behaved  irre- 
proachably. 

Locomotion  was  the  great  difficulty  in  those 
days,  and  we  island -dwellers  cannot  easily  realise 
the  vast  and  trackless  spaces  which  lie  between  the 
specks  of  townships  on  a  huge  continent.  Natal 
is  magnificently  watered  and  grassed  in  the  summer, 
but  the  big  rivers  are  not  only  a  hindrance  to 
journeying,  but  from  a  sanitary  point  of  view 
they  are  as  undrinkable  as  the  Nile,  and  probably 
for  the  same  reasons.  Still,  they  are  there,  and 
future  generations  will  doubtless  use  them  for 
irrigation  and  canals  and  all  the  needs  of  advancing 
civilisation. 

In  my  day  the  Boer  was  quite  an  unconsidered 
factor,  and  we  felt  we  were  performing  a  Quixoti- 
cally generous  action  when,  at  his  own  earnest 
entreaty,  we  took  him  and  his  debts  and  his  native 
troubles  on  our  own  shoulders  in  1876.  He  was 
always  extremely  dirty,  and  about  a  thousand 
years  behind  the  rest  of  the  civilised  world  in  his 
ideas.  His  religion  was  a  superstition  worthy  of  the 
Middle  Ages,  and  his  notions  of  morality  went  a 
good  deal  further  back  than  even  those  primitive 
times. 

I  confess  the  only  Boer  I  ever  was  personally 


64  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

brought  into  contact  with  seemed  to  me  a  delightful 
person  !  This  is  how  it  happened.  Soon  after  my 
arrival  in  Maritzburg,  a  bazaar  was  held  in  aid  of 
some  local  literary  undertaking.  Bazaars  were 
happily  of  very  rare  occurrence  in  those  parts,  and 
this  one  created  quite  an  excitement  and  realised 
an  astonishingly  large  sum  of  money.  The  race- 
week  had  been  chosen  for  the  purpose  of  catching 
customers  among  the  numerous  visitors  to  Pieter- 
maritzburg  in  that  gay  time,  and  the  wiles  employed 
seemed  very  successful.  I  never  heard  how  or  why 
he  got  there,  but  I  only  know  that  a  stout,  com- 
fortable, well-to-do  Dutch  farmer  suddenly  appeared 
at  the  door  of  the  bazaar.  He  was,  of  course,  at 
once  assailed  by  pretty  flower-girls  and  lucky-bag 
bearers,  and  cigars  and  kittens  were  promptly 
pressed  on  him.  But  the  old  gentleman  had  a  plan 
and  a  method  of  his  own,  on  which  he  proceeded 
to  act.  He  had  not  one  single  syllable  of  English, 
so  it  was  a  case  of  deeds  not  words.  He  began 
at  the  very  first  stall  and  worked  his  way  all  round. 
At  each  stall  he  pointed  to  the  biggest  thing  on  it, 
and  held  out  a  handful  of  coins  in  payment.  He 
then  shouldered  his  purchase  as  far  as  the  next 
stall,  where  he  deposited  it  as  a  gift  to  the  lady  sell- 
ing, bought  her  biggest  object,  and  went  on  round 
the  hall  on  the  same  principle.  When  it  came  to 
my  turn  he  held  out  to  me  the  largest  wax-doll  I 
ever  beheld,  and  carried  off  a  huge  and  unwieldy 


NATAL   MEMORIES  65 

doll's  house  which  entirely  eclipsed  even  his  burly 
figure.  My  next  door  (or  rather  stall)  neighbour 
had  a  table  full  of  glass  and  china,  and  she  conse- 
quently viewed  the  approach  of  this  article  of  bazaar 
commerce  with  natural  misgiving,  but  as  our  ideal 
customer  relieved,  her  of  a  very  large  ugly  breakfast 
set,  she  managed  to  make  room  for  the  miniature 
house  until  she  could  arrange  a  raffle  and  so  get 
rid  of  it.  The  last  I  saw  of  that  Boer,  who  must 
have  contributed  largely  to  our  receipts,  was  his 
leading  a  very  small  donkey,  which  he  had  just 
bought  at  the  last  stall,  away  by  a  blue  ribbon 
halter.  I  believe  it  was  the  only  "  object "  in  the 
whole  bazaar  which  could  have  possibly  been  of  the 
slightest  practical  use  to  him,  but  the  contrast 
between  the  weak-kneed  and  frivolously  attired 
donkey  and  its  sturdy  purchaser  was  irresistibly 
comic.  No  one  seemed  to  know  in  the  least  who  he 
was,  but  we  supposed  he  must  have  come  down  for 
the  races  and  backed  the  winners  very  successfully. 
Our  little  house  stood  on  a  hill  about  a  mile  from 
Maritzburg,  and,  remembering  the  formation  of 
the  surrounding  country,  one  realises  how  badly 
the  towns  in  Natal,  and  probably  all  over  South 
Africa,  are  placed  for  purposes  of  defence.  Every 
town,  or  even  little  hamlet  or  township,  which  I 
ever  saw,  stood  in  the  middle  of  a  wide  plain  with 
low  hills  all  round  it,  so  it  is  easy  for  me  to  realise 
how  soon  cannon  planted  on  those  hills  would  wreck 

E 


66  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

buildings.  There  was  a  great  and  agreeable  differ- 
ence in  the  temperature,  however,  up  on  that  little 
hill,  but  towards  the  close  of  the  dry  winter  season 
the  water-supply  became  an  anxiety.  In  spite  of 
the  extremely  cold  nights  up  there,  any  plant  for 
which  I  could  spare  a  daily  pail  of  water  blossomed 
beautifully  all  through  the  winter.  I  was  advised 
to  select  my  favourite  rose-bushes  before  the  summer 
rains  had  ceased,  and  to  have  the  baths  of  the 
family  emptied  over  them  every  day,  which  I  did 
with  perfect  success,  and  was  even  able  to  include 
some  azaleas  and  camellias  in  the  list  of  the  favoured 
shrubs. 

I  was  much  struck  with  the  rapid  growth  of  trees 
in  Natal,  and  it  was  astonishing  to  see  the  height 
and  solidity  of  trees  planted  only  ten  years  before, 
especially  the  eucalyptus.  But  grass  walks  or 
lawns  are  much  discouraged  in  a  garden  on  account 
of  the  facility  they  afford  as  cover  for  snakes,  and 
red  paths  and  open  spaces  are  to  be  seen  everywhere 
instead.  Even  the  lawn-tennis  of  that  day  was 
played  on  smooth  courts  of  firmly  stamped  and 
rolled  red  clay.  I  wonder  how  the  golf-players 
manage,  for  play  they  do  I  am  certain,  as  nothing 
ever  induces  either  a  golfer  or  a  cricketer  to  forego 
his  game. 

One  morning,  very  early,  I  was  taken  to  the 
market,  and  it  certainly  was  an  extraordinary 
sight.  The  market-place  is  always  one  of  the  most 


NATAL   MEMORIES  67 

salient  features  of  a  South  African  town,  and  is 
the  centre  of  local  gossip,  just  as  is  the  "  bazaar  " 
of  the  East.  It  was  an  immense  open  space 
thronged  with  buyers  and  sellers  ;  whites,  Kaffirs, 
coolies,  emigrants  from  St.  Helena,  and  many  on- 
lookers like  myself.  It  was  all  under  Government 
control  and  seemed  very  well  managed.  There 
were  official  inspectors  of  the  meat  offered  for  sale, 
and  duly  authorised  weights  and  scales,  round 
which  surged  a  vociferous  crowd.  I  was  specially 
invited  to  view  the  butter  sent  down  from  the 
Boer  farms  up  country,  and  I  cannot  say  it  was 
an  appetising  sight.  A  huge  hide,  very  indifferently 
tanned,  was  unrolled  for  my  edification,  and  it 
certainly  contained  a  substance  distantly  resem- 
bling butter,  packed  into  it,  but  apparently  at 
widely  differing  intervals  of  time.  The  condiment 
was  of  various  colours,  and — how  shall  I  put  it  ? — 
strengths  ;  milk-sieves  appeared  also  to  have  been 
unknown  at  that  farm,  for  cows'  hair  formed  a 
noticeable  component  part  of  that  mass  of  butter. 
However,  I  was  assure'd  that  it  found  ready  and 
willing  purchasers,  even  at  four  shillings  a  pound, 
and  that  it  was  quite  possible  to  remake  it,  as  it 
were,  and  subject  it  to  a  purifying  process.  I  con- 
fess I  felt  thankful  that  the  butter  my  small  family 
consumed  was  made  under  my  own  eyes. 

Waggons   laden   with   firewood   were  very  con- 
spicuous, and  their  loads  disappeared  rapidly,  as 


68  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

did  also  piles  of  lucerne  and  other  green  forage. 
There  was  but  little  poultry  for  sale,  and  very  few 
vegetables.  I  remember  noticing  in  all  the  little 
excursions  I  made,  within  some  twenty  miles  of 
Maritzburg,  how  different  the  Natal  colonist,  at 
least  of  those  days,  was  from  the  Australian  or 
New  Zealand  pioneer.  At  various  farmhouses 
where  there  was  plenty  of  evidence  of  a  kind  of 
rough  and  ready  prosperity,  and  much  open-handed 
hospitality  and  friendliness,  there  would  be  only 
preserved  milk  and  tinned  butter  available.  Now 
these  two  items  must  have  indeed  been  costly  by 
the  time  they  reached  the  farms  I  speak  of.  Yet 
there  were  herds  of  cattle  grazing  around.  Nor 
would  there  be  poultry  of  any  sort  forthcoming, 
nor  a  sign  of  a  garden.  Of  course,  it  was  not  my 
place  to  criticise  ;  but  if  I  ventured  on  a  question, 
I  was  always  told,  "Oh,  labour  is  so  difficult  to 
get.  You  know,  the  Kaffirs  won't  work."  I  longed 
to  suggest  that  the  young  people  I  saw  lounging 
about  might  very  well  turn  to  and  lend  a  hand, 
at  all  events  to  start  a  poultry  yard,  or  dairy, 
or  vegetable  garden. 

Now,  at  Fort  Napier — the  only  fortified  hill  near 
Maritzburg — every  little  hollow  and  ravine  was 
utilised  by  the  soldiers  stationed  there  as  a  garden. 
The  men,  of  course,  work  in  these  little  plots  them- 
selves and  grow  beautiful  vegetables.  Potatoes 
and  pumpkins,  cabbages  and  onions,  only  need  to 


NATAL   MEMORIES  69 

be  planted  to  grow  luxuriantly.  Why  cannot  this 
be  done  in  the  little  farms  around  ?  I  am  afraid 
I  took  a  selfish  interest  in  the  question,  as  it  was 
so  difficult,  and  often  impossible,  to  procure  even 
potatoes.  Such  things  grow  much  more  easily,  I 
was  told,  at  Durban,  so  probably  those  difficulties 
have  disappeared  with  the  opening  of  the  railway — 
that  very  railway  of  which  I  saw  the  first  sod 
turned.  My  own  attempt  at  a  vegetable  garden 
suffered  from  its  being  perched  on  the  top  of  a  hill, 
where  water  was  difficult  to  get ;  but  I  was 
very  successful  with  some  poultry,  in  spite  of  having 
to  wage  constant  war  against  hawks  and  snakes. 

How  fortunate  it  is  that  one  remembers  the 
laughs  of  one's  past  life  better  than  its  tears !  That 
morning  visit  to  the  Pietermaritzburg  market 
stands  out  distinctly  in  my  memory  chiefly  on 
account  of  an  absurd  incident  I  witnessed.  I  had 
been  much  interested  and  amused  looking  round, 
not  only  at  the  strange  and  characteristic  crowd, 
but  at  my  many  acquaintances  marketing  for 
themselves.  I  had  listened  to  the  shouts  of  the 
various  auctioneers  who  were  selling  all  manner  of 
heterogeneous  wares,  when  I  noticed  some  stalwart 
Kaffirs  bearing  on  their  heads  large  open  baskets 
filled  entirely  with  coffee-pots  of  every  size  and 
kind.  Roughly  speaking,  there  must  have  been 
something  like  a  hundred  coffee-pots  in  those 
baskets.  They  were  just  leaving  an  improvised 


70  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

auction-stand,  and  following  them  closely,  with  an 
air  of  proud  possession  on  his  genial  countenance, 
was  a  specially  beloved  friend  of  my  own,  who  I 
may  mention,  was  also  the  beloved  friend  of  all 
who  knew  him.  "  Are  all  those  coffee-pots  yours  ?  " 
I  inquired.  "  Yes,  indeed  ;  I  have  just  bought 
them,"  he  answered.  "  You  must  know  I  am  a  col- 
lector of  coffee-pots  and  have  a  great  many  already  ; 
but  how  lucky  I  have  been  to  pick  up  some  one 
else's  collection  as  well,  and  so  cheap  too  !  " 

The  Kaffirs  were  grinning,  and  there  seemed  a 
general  air  of  amusement  about,  which  I  could  not 
at  all  understand  until  it  was  explained  to  me  later 
that  my  friend  had  just  bought  his  own  collection 
of  coffee-pots.  His  wife  thought  that  the  space 
they  occupied  in  her  store-room  could  be  better 
employed,  and,  believing  that  their  owner  would 
not  attend  the  market  that  day,  had  sent  the  whole 
lot  down  to  be  sold.  She  told  me  afterwards  that 
her  dismay  was  indeed  great  when  her  Kaffirs 
brought  them  back  in  triumph,  announcing  that 
the  "  Inkose  "  (chieftain)  had  just  bought  them, 
so  the  poor  lady  had  to  pay  the  auctioneer's  fees, 
and  replace  the  coffee-pots  on  their  shelves  with 
what  resignation  she  could  command. 

One  of  my  pleasantest  memories  of  Natal,  especi- 
ally as  seen  by  the  light  of  recent  events,  is  of  a 
visit  I  paid  to  the  annual  joint  encampment  of  the 
Natal  Carabineers  and  the  Durban  Mounted  Rifles. 


NATAL   MEMORIES  71 

It  was  only  what  would  be  called,  I  suppose,  a 
flying  camp,  and  the  ground  chosen  that  year 
(August  1876)  was  on  ''Botha's  Flat,"  halfway 
between  Maritzburg  and  Durban.  I  well  remember 
how  beautiful  was  the  drive  from  Maritzburg  over 
the  Inchanga  Pass,  and  how  workmanlike  the  little 
encampment  looked  as  I  came  upon  it  (after  some 
break-neck  driving),  with  its  small  tents  dotted  on 
a  green  down. 

Although  one  little  knew  it,  that  same  encamp- 
ment was  the  school  where  were  trained  the  men 
who  have  so  lately  shown  the  worth  of  the  lessons 
they  were  then  learning.  The  whole  training  seemed 
practical  and  admirable  in  the  highest  degree.  It 
had  to  be  carried  out  amid  every  sort  of  difficulty, 
and,  indeed,  one  might  almost  say  discouragement. 
In  those  distant  days  such  bodies  of  volunteers 
were  struggling  on  with  very  little  money,  very 
little  public  interest  or  sympathy,  and  with  great 
difficulty  on  the  part  of  the  members  of  these 
plucky  little  forces  in  obtaining  leave  for  even  this 
short  annual  drill.  I  was  told  that  both  the  corps 
were  much  stronger  on  paper,  but  that  the  absentees 
could  not  be  spared  from  the  stores,  or  sugar 
estates,  or  offices  to  which  they  belonged. 

I  had,  much  earlier  in  the  year,  at  our  midsummer, 
in  fact,  seen  some  excellent  swimming  drill  at 
certain  athletic  sports  held  in  the  little  park  at 
Maritzburg,  through  which  a  river  runs.  The 


72  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

keenest  competition  on  that  occasion  lay  between 
these  same  Natal  Carabineers  and  a  smart  body  of 
Mounted  Police.  The  most  difficult  part  of  the 
stream,  with  crumbling  banks  and  mud-holes,  was 
chosen,  and  at  a  given  signal  they  all  plunged  in 
on  horseback,  holding  their  carbines  high  above 
their  heads.  In  some  cases  the  riders  slipped  off 
their  horses  and  swam  by  their  side,  mounting 
again  directly  the  opposite  bank  was  gained ;  and 
I  noticed  how  well  trained  were  the  horses,  and  how 
at  their  master's  whistle  they  stood  still  to  allow 
them  to  remount  instantly.  How  well  this  training 
has  stood  the  test  of  practical  warfare  let  the  late 
campaign  tell.  And  we  must  also  bear  in  mind 
that  all  this  training  was  going  on  nearly  thirty 
years  ago  I 

It  was  partly  to  show  my  own  sympathy  and 
interest  in  this  same  movement  that  I  accepted 
the  invitation  of  the  commandant  to  spend  a  couple 
of  nights  at  the  camp  and  see  what  they  were  doing. 
A  lonely  little  inn  hard  by,  where  a  tiny  room  could 
be  secured  for  me,  made  this  excursion  possible, 
and  I  can  never  forget  some  of  the  impressions  of 
that  visit.  When  I  read  in  the  papers  how  splen- 
didly the  Natal  colonist  came  forward  in  the  late 
campaign,  even  from  the  purely  military  point  of 
view,  I  remember  that  camp,  and  I  understand  that 
I  was  then  watching  the  forging  of  those  links  in  our 
long  imperial  chain.  The  men  who  came  out  so 


NATAL   MEMORIES  73 

grandly  as  "  soldiers  of  the  Queen ,"  no  matter  by 
what  local  names  they  might  have  been  called,  are 
probably  the  sons  of  the  stalwart  volunteers  I  saw, 
but  the  teaching  of  that  and  succeeding  encamp- 
ments has  evidently  borne  good  fruit. 

It  was  indeed  serious  work  they  were  all  engaged 
on  during  those  bright  winter  days,  and  my  visit 
was  not  allowed  to  interrupt  for  a  moment  the  drill 
which  seemed  to  go  on  all  through  the  daylight 
hours.  What  helped  to  make  the  lesson  so  valu- 
able to  the  earnest  learners  was,  that  all  went  pre- 
cisely as  though  a  state  of  war  existed.  There  were 
no  servants,  no  luxuries — all  was  exactly  as  it  pro- 
bably was  in  the  late  campaign. 

I  dined  at  the  officers'  mess  that  evening.  Our 
table-cloth  was  of  canvas,  our  candles  were  tied  to 
cross  pieces  of  wood,  and  the  food  was  served  in 
the  tins  in  which  it  was  cooked.  Tea  was  our  only 
beverage,  but  the  open  air  had  made  us  all  so  hungry 
that  everything  seemed  delicious.  It  was,  I  re- 
member, bitterly  cold,  and  the  slight  tent  did  not 
afford  much  shelter  from  the  icy  wind.  How  well 
I  recollect  my  great  longing  to  wrap  myself  up  in 
the  one  luxury  of  the  camp — a  large  and  beautiful 
goatskin  karosse  on  which  I  was  seated  !  But  that 
would  have  been  to  betray  my  chilliness,  which 
would  never  have  done.  We  separated  somewhere 
about  half-past  eight — for  we  had  dined  as  soon  as 
ever  it  got  too  dark  to  go  on  drilling — but  not  before 


74  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

the  whole  encampment  had  assembled  to  sing  "  God 
save  the  Queen,"  with  all  their  heart  as  well  as  with 
all  their  lungs, — a  fitting  finish  to  the  day's  work. 

I  had  some  other  delightful  rides  in  Natal,  one 
especially  on  the  peaceful  errand  of  a  visit  to  a 
Wesleyan  Mission  station  about  a  dozen  miles  off 
at  Edendale.  It  was  a  perfect  winter's  day,  and 
the  road  was  fairly  good. 

I  have  often  wondered  why  our  own  beloved 
Mother  Church  employs  such  slow  and  cumbrous 
machinery  in  dealing  with  native  races.  She  is 
apparently  considering  the  subject  in  the  time  it 
takes  for  the  Baptists  or  Wesleyans  to  start  a 
settlement.  So  long  ago  as  1851  a  certain  James 
Allison,  a  Wesleyan  missionary  who  had  worked 
among  the  Basuto  and  Amaswasi  tribes,  bought 
some  six  thousand  acres  hereabout  from  old 
Pretorius,  the  Dutch  President  of  Natal,  and 
set  to  work  to  teach  the  Kaffirs  not  only  Chris- 
tianity but  citizenship.  Now-a-days  there  are 
two  chapels  and  four  schools,  all  built  by  the 
natives  themselves,  as  well  as  several  Sunday 
Schools.  In  former  days  there  had  also  been  an 
industrial  school  which  had  turned  out  capital 
artisans,  but  the  yearly  grant  of  £100  from  Govern- 
ment had  been  withdrawn  before  my  visit,  and 
the  school  was  in  consequence  closed.  The 
existing  schools  only  receive  fifty  pounds  a  year 
from  outside,  and  all  the  other  expenses  of  the 


NATAL   MEMORIES  75 

flourishing  little  Mission  are  borne  by  the  people 
themselves.  Such  neat,  comfortable  brick  houses 
and  such  gay  gardens,  to  say  nothing  of  "  provision 
grounds "  full  of  potatoes,  pumpkins,  and  even 
green  peas.  Lots  of  poultry  everywhere,  and  an 
air  of  neat  prosperity  over  everything.  I  was  told 
there  were  many  excellent  Norwegian  Missions  on 
the  borders  of  Zululand,  and  I  hope  they  still 
flourish,  for  it  is  difficult  to  overrate  the  value  of 
such  settlements  as  a  factor  in  the  spread  of  civilisa- 
tion as  well  as  in  that  of  Christianity. 

But  I  had  really  only  one  long  ride  during  my 
thirteen  months  in  Natal,  and  that  was  later  in  the 
same  winter  season,  in  fact,  quite  at  the  end — in 
September.  Five  cruel  months  of  absolutely  dry 
weather  had  reduced  the  roads  to  fine  red  powder, 
and  the  vegetation  to  sun-dried  hay,  but  still  the 
air  was  beautiful  and  exhilarating  as  we  set  forth 
— a  little  party  of  four,  including  a  Kaffir  guide — 
very  early  one  lovely  morning.  At  first  we  headed 
for  Edendale,  but  soon  left  it  on  our  right,  and 
pushed  on,  before  the  sun  got  too  hot,  and  whilst 
our  somewhat  sorry  steeds  were  fresh,  for  "Taylor's" 
— a  roadside  shanty  twenty  miles  off.  Our  destina- 
tion was  a  fine  forest  called  "  Seven-mile  Bush," 
only  fifty  miles  away  but  with  several  hill-ranges 
to  be  crossed.  Two  hours'  bait  started  us  again 
at  2  P.M.  in  good  fettle,  and  it  was  fairly  easy  going 
to  Eland's  River,  which  we  reached  at  4  o'clock, 


76  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

and  where  we  off-saddled  for  half-an-hour.  The 
rough  waggon- track  which  had  been  our  only  road 
had  been  steadily  rising  ever  since  our  first  halt,  and 
we  were  now  amid  beautiful  undulating  downs  with 
distant  ranges  ever  in  front  of  us.  No  sooner  had 
we  climbed  painfully  over  one  saddle  than  another 
seemed  to  block  our  way,  and  I  confess  my  courage 
rather  sank  when,  with  twilight  fast  coming  on 
and  the  path  getting  steeper  with  every  mile,  I 
inquired  of  the  guide  how  far  off  we  still  were.  Of 
course,  my  question  had  to  be  in  pantomime,  and 
his  answer — five  dips  of  his  hand  towards  the  hills 
— told  me  we  had  yet  five  low  ranges  to  cross. 

The  last  few  miles  seemed  a  nightmare  of  stum- 
bling up  and  down  break-neck  places  on  tired 
horses  in  the  dark,  and  the  contrast  of  a  charming 
little  house  at  last,  with  lights  and  blazing  fires, 
was  all  the  more  delightful.  Indeed,  it  seemed  to 
us,  stumbling  out  of  the  darkness  and  a  chilling 
mist,  that  nothing  short  of  Aladdin's  lamp  could 
at  all  account  for  the  transport  of  all  the  nice 
furniture,  pictures,  glass  and  china  along  such 
impassable  tracks.  However,  they  were  all  there, 
and  everything  which  goes  to  make  up  a  pretty 
and  refined  home  besides,  including  a  charming 
hostess  and  two  rosy  children.  We  were  waited 
on  by  Kaffir  boys  in  long  white  garments,  look- 
ing for  all  the  world  like  black-faced  choristers. 
But  after  gallons  of  tea  and  a  capital  supper, 


NATAL   MEMORIES  77 

bed  seemed  the  most  attractive  suggestion,  and 
many  hours  of  dreamless  sleep  wiped  away  all 
fatigue  and  started  us  off  early  next  morning  in 
splendid  health  and  spirits  to  explore  the  magnifi- 
cent forest  close  by. 

I  have  often  thought  that  the  three  most  distinct 
memories  of  beautiful  scenes,  which  must  ever  re- 
main vividly  before  me,  are,  my  first  view  of  the 
Himalayas,  early  one  morning  from  the  Grand 
Trunk  Road,  when  I  complained  that  I  could 
not  see  them,  and  discovered  it  was  because  I 
had  not  looked  half  high  enough.  That  was  indeed 
a  revelation  of  solemn  mountain  grandeur.  Next 
to  it  ranks  the  mighty  sweep  of  the  Niagara  river 
as  you  see  it  from  the  railway,  and  a  few  moments 
later  behold  it  thundering  over  the  edge.  And  the 
third  is  that  long,  lonely  morning  in  the  magnificent 
forest  in  the  heart  of  Natal,  the  recollection  of 
which  dwarfs  all  other  trees  to  insignificance.  The 
growth  not  only  of  giant  timber  but  of  exquisite 
under-growth  of  ferns  and  delicate  foliage  was 
indeed  superb.  Of  flowers  there  were  none,  because 
the  sun  could  not  enter  those  cathedral  glades 
except  at  the  very  edge  and  outskirt  where  the 
big  trees  had  been  felled. 

I  confess  I  should  greatly  have  preferred  to 
wander  as  far  as  I  dared,  and  looked  longer  into  the 
old  Elephant  pits,  and  heard  more  stories  of  the 
comparatively  recent  dates  at  which  tigers,  panthers, 


78  COLONIAL  MEMORIES 

and  leopards  could  be  met  with.  And  I  also 
wanted  to  go  deep  enough  among  the  overhanging 
lianes,  or  monkey-ropes  as  they  call  them,  to  see, 
perchance,  the  great  baboons  swinging  on  them. 
But  our  host  evidently  regarded  his  new  saw-mill  as 
the  greatest  point  of  interest,  and  thither  we  betook 
ourselves — all  too  soon  for  my  enjoyment.  There, 
indeed,  one  beheld  a  marvellous  chaos  of  wheels 
and  chains  and  saws,  which  took  hold  of  these  same 
giant  trunks  and  tossed  them  out  and  passed  them 
from  one  to  the  other,  until  they  emerged,  shaven 
and  shorn  into  the  planks  of  e very-day  commerce. 
Very  wonderful,  no  doubt,  and  one  asked  one's-self 
every  moment,  "  how  did  these  huge  masses  of 
machinery  get  over  that  last  range  ?  "  But  still  I 
feel  that  it  was  the  forest  I  came  to  see  and  I  was 
only  peeping  into  it. 

However,  next  day  I  had  a  fine  long  ramble  in 
it,  and  explored  to  my  heart's  content,  but  it  was 
damp  and  drizzling,  and  so  it  remained  the  day 
after  that  again,  when  we  started  very  early  for 
home.  The  horses  were  quite  fresh  and  rested,  and 
carried  us  well,  in  spite  of  the  extreme  slipperiness 
of  the  mountain  tracks.  Curiously  enough  as  soon 
as  we  got  clear  of  the  ranges  we  rode  into  the  thickest 
fog  I  have  ever  seen.  We  could  only  go  at  a  slow 
walk  in  Indian  file,  with  the  Kaffir  leading,  and 
every  few  minutes  he  got  off  his  rough  little  pony 
and  patted  the  ground  to  feel  where  we  were.  They 


NATAL   MEMORIES  79 

said  it  was  a  sea  fog,  but  it  wrapped  us  up  as 
thoroughly  as  if  it  had  been  the  thickest  of  blankets, 
and  one  felt  quite  helpless.  Certainly  nothing  is  so 
demoralising  as  a  fog,  and  I  never  wish  to  repeat 
that  morning's  experience.  We  should  have 
tumbled  over  "  Taylor's,"  or  rather  passed  it,  though 
it  stood  quite  close  to  the  track,  if  a  cock  had  not 
fortunately  crowed,  and  the  leading  pony  neighed 
in  reply,  calling  forth  a  chorus  of  barks  from  quite 
unseen  dogs,  who  dared  not  venture  an  inch  from 
the  sheltering  porch. 

Although  my  stay  in  Natal  lasted  very  little  over 
a  year,  I  made  many  friends  there,  and  it  is  with 
sympathising  regret  I  often  saw  in  the  roll-call  of 
her  local  defenders  the  familiar  names  of  those  whom 
I  remember  as  bright-eyed  children.  They  have 
all  sprung  to  arms  in  defence  of  the  fair  land  of 
their  fathers'  adoption,  and  when  the  tale  of  this 
crisis  in  the  history  of  Natal  comes  to  be  written, 
the  names  of  her  gallant  young  defenders  will  stand 
out  on  its  pages  in  letters  of  light,  and  the  record 
of  their  noble  deeds  will  serve  as  an  example  for 
ever  and  for  ever.  So  will  they  not  have  laid  down 
their  lives  in  vain. 


VI 

"STELLA   CLAVISQUE   MARIS    INDICI " 

"  THE  Star  and  the  Key  of  the  Indian  Ocean  "  lay 
smiling  before  me  on  Easter  Sunday,  April  1878. 

The  little  schooner  in  which  I  had  come  across 
from  Natal  had  just  dropped  her  anchor  in  the 
harbour  of  Port  Louis  after  seventeen  days  of  light 
and  baffling  winds.  The  tedium  of  that  past  time 
slipped  quickly  out  of  my  mind,  however,  as  the 
fast-growing  daylight  revealed  the  beauties  of 
Mauritius,  a  little  island  which  I  had  so  often  read 
of  and  yet  so  little  expected  ever  to  behold.  The 
interest  of  the  tragic  tale  of  "  Paul  and  Virginia  " 
had  riveted  my  wandering  attention  during  the 
French  reading-lessons  of  my  youth,  though  I 
always  secretly  wondered  why  Virginia  had  been 
such  a  goose  as  to  decline  help  from  a  sailor,  ap- 
parently only  because  he  was  somewhat  insuffi- 
ciently clad.  But  I  should  not  have  dared  to 
give  utterance  to  this  opinion,  so  prudish  was  the 
domestic  atmosphere  of  those  early  days. 

The  first  real  interest  I  felt  in  Mauritius  arose 
from  the  frequent  mention  of  the  little  island  as 


"STELLA   CLAVISQUE    MARIS   INDICI"     81 

a  health-resort,  in  some  charming  letters  of  Miss 
Eden's  published  about  five-and-twenty  years  ago, 
but  written  long  before  that  date,  when  she  was 
keeping  house  for  her  brother,  Lord  Auckland, 
then  Governor-General  of  India.  Miss  Eden  speaks 
of  many  friends  as  well  as  of  Indian  tourists  (for 
"  Paget,  M.P.'s  "  existed  apparently  even  in  those 
distant  times)  having  gone  for  change  of  air  to 
"  the  Mauritius "  and  coming  back  quite  strong 
and  robust.  She  mentions  one  instance  of  a  whole 
opera  company,  whose  health  gave  way  in  Cal- 
cutta, and  who  made  the  excursion,  returning  in 
time  for  their  next  season  with  restored  health, 
and  she  often  longs  in  vain  for  such  a  change  for 
her  hard-worked  brother. 

But  all  this  must  have  been  many  years  before 
the  first  mysterious  outbreak  of  fever  which  ravaged 
the  place  in  1867.  I  was  assured  that  before  that 
date  the  reputation  of  the  pretty  little  island  had 
stood  very  high  as  a  sanatorium,  but  no  doctor 
could  give  me  any  reason  for  the  sudden  appear- 
ance of  this  virulent  fever.  There  were,  of  course, 
many  theories,  each  of  which  had  earnest  supporters. 
Some  said  the  great  hurricane  which  had  just  before 
swept  over  the  island  brought  the  malaria  on  its 
wings.  Others  declared  the  de'boisement  which  had 
been  carried  on  to  a  devastating  extent  in  order 
to  increase  the  area  available  for  sugar-cane  plant- 
ing was  to  blame ;  whilst  a  third  faction  put  all 

F 


82  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

the  trouble  down  to  the  great  influx  of  coolie 
immigrants  introduced  about  that  date  to  work  in 
the  cane-fields.  Perhaps  the  truth  lies  in  a  blend- 
ing of  these  three  principal  theories'.  Anyway,  I 
felt  it  sad  and  hard  that  so  really  lovely  an  island 
should  have  such  dark  and  trying  days  behind  as 
well  as  before  it. 

But,  after  seventeen  days  of  glaring  lonely  seas 
and  dark  monotonous  nights,  one  is  not  apt  to 
think  of  anything  beyond  the  immediate  "  blessings 
of  the  land,"  and  I  gazed  with  profound  content 
on  the  chain  of  volcanic  hills,  down  whose  rugged 
sides  many  cascades  tumbled  their  gleaming  silver. 
Coral  reefs,  with  white  foam  tossing  over  them, 
in  spite  of  the  calm  sapphire  sea  on  which  we  were 
gently  floating  into  harbour,  seemed  spread  all 
around  us,  and  indeed  I  believe  these  re'cifs  circle 
the  whole  island  with  a  dangerous  though  protect- 
ing girdle.  Sloping  ground,  covered  with  growth 
of  differing  greens,  some  showing  the  bluish  hue  of 
the  sugar-cane,  others  the  more  vivid  colouring  of 
a  coarse  tall  grass,  led  the  eye  gently  down  to  the 
flowering  trees  and  foliage  round  the  clustering 
houses  of  Port  Louis,  whose  steep  high-pitched 
roofs  looked  so  suggestive  of  tropic  rains.  Port 
Louis  was  once  evidently  a  stately  capital,  and 
large  handsome  houses  still  remain.  These  have, 
however,  nearly  all  been  turned  into  offices  or 
banks,  and  the  fine  large  Government  House,  or 


"STELLA   CLAVISQUE    MARIS    INDICI"     83 

Hotel  du  Gouvernement,  is  always  empty  as  to  its 
numerous  bedrooms.  Hardly  a  white  person  sleeps 
with  impunity  in  Port  Louis,  though  all  the  busi- 
ness— official  and  private — is  carried  on  there,  and 
it  contains  many  excellent  shops. 

You  must  climb  up,  however,  some  few  miles  by 
the  steep  little  railway  before  you  realise  how 
really  lovely  the  scenery  of  Mauritius  can  be.  All 
in  miniature,  it  is  true,  but  very  ambitious  in  char- 
acter. Except  for  the  glowing  tints  of  the  volcanic 
rocks  and  the  tropic  vegetation,  one  might  be  look- 
ing at  a  bit  of  Switzerland  through  the  wrong  end 
of  a  telescope  ;  but  nowhere  else  have  I  ever  seen 
such  tints  as  the  bare  mountain  sides  take  at  sunset. 
The  tufa  rocks  glow  like  wet  porphyry,  and  so 
magical  are  the  hues  that  one  half  expects  to  see 
the  grand  recumbent  figure  of  the  old  warrior  of 
the  Corps  de  Garde  hill  outlined  against  the 
purple  sky,  rise  up  and  salute  the  island  which 
once  was  his. 

Mauritius  is  in  many  ways  an  object-lesson 
which  is  not  without  its  significance  just  now. 
Here  we  have  a  little  island  thoroughly  French  in 
its  history  and  people,  and  inhabitated  by  many 
of  the  vieille  roche  who  fled  there  in  the  Terror  days. 
Battles  between  French  and  English  by  land  and 
sea  raged  round  its  sunny  shores  in  the  first  few 
years  of  the  just-ended  century.  Dauntless  at- 
tacks and  valiant  resistance  have  left  heroic 


84  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

memories  behind  them.  We  took  it  by  force 
majeure  in  1811,  but  it  was  not  until  the  great 
settling  up  at  the  Restoration  in  1814  that  the 
hatchet  may  be  said  to  have  been  finally  buried, 
and  the  two  nationalities  began  to  pull  together 
comfortably.  I  was  rather  surprised  to  see  how 
thoroughly  French  Mauritius  still  is  in  language 
and  in  characteristics  ;  but  the  result  is  indeed 
satisfactory.  I  found  it  quite  the  most  highly 
civilised  of  the  colonies  I  then  knew,  and  from  the 
social  point  of  view  there  was  nothing  left  to  be 
desired.  The  early  class  of  French  settler  had 
evidently  been  of  a  much  higher  type  than  our 
own  rough-and-ready  colonist,  and  the  refinement 
so  introduced  had  influenced  the  whole  place.  Did 
I  find  any  race-hatred,  oppression,  or  heart-burn- 
ings ?  No,  indeed  ;  of  all  the  dependencies  of  our 
Empire  not  one  has  come  forward  more  generously 
or  more  splendidly  with  substantial  offers  of  help 
than  that  little  lonely  isle,  "  the  Star  and  Key  of 
the  Indian  Ocean."  I  venture  to  say,  speaking 
from  my  experience  of  those  days,  that  the  King 
has  no  more  loyal  subjects  than  the  Mauritians. 

It  may  be  that  the  trials  and  troubles  we  have 
all  borne  there  side  by  side  in  the  past  half-century 
have  knitted  and  bound  us  together.  We  have 
had  hurricane,  pestilence,  and  fire  to  contend  with, 
besides  the  chronic  hard  times  of  the  sugar  industry. 
In  these  fast-following  calamities  French  and  English 


"STELLA   CLAVISQUE    MARIS    INDICI"     85 

have  stood  shoulder  to  shoulder,  and  the  only  race 
or  religious  rivalry  has  been  in  good  and  noble 
deeds.  In  the  Zulu  War  of  1881,  when  Sir  Bartle 
Frere  sent  a  ship  down  with  despatches  to  my  dear 
husband,  then  the  Lieutenant-Go vernor  of  Mauritius, 
urgently  asking  for  help  to  "  hold  the  fort "  until 
the  English  reinforcements  could  arrive,  Mauritius 
sprang  to  her  feet  then  as  now,  and  gave  willing  and 
substantial  help.  Every  soldier  who  was  able  to 
stand  up  started  at  twenty-four  hours'  notice  for 
Durban.  The  same  day  the  mayor  of  Port  Louis 
held  a  meeting,  at  which  a  volunteer  corps  of 
doctors  and  nurses  was  at  once  raised,  with  plenty 
of  money  to  equip  them,  and  they,  as  well  as  cooks 
and  cows — both  much  needed — were  on  their  way 
to  Durban  before  another  sun  had  set.  It  was 
indeed  gratifying  to  hear  afterwards  that  not  only 
had  our  little  military  effort  been  of  gre#.t  service, 
but  that  the  abundance  of  fresh  milk  supplied  had 
helped  many  a  case  of  dysentery  among  the  garri- 
son at  Durban  to  turn  the  corner  on  the  road  to 
recovery. 

Nothing  can  be  much  more  beautiful  than  the 
view  from  the  back  verandah  at  "  Reduit,"  as  the 
fine  country  Government  House,  built  by  the 
Chevalier  de  la  Brillane  for  the  Governors  of  Mauri- 
tius more  than  a  century  ago,  is  called.  Before 
you  spreads  an  expanse  of  English  lawn  only  broken 
by  clumps  of  gay  foliaged  shrubs  or  beds  of  flowers, 


86  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

and  behind  that  again  is  the  wooded  edge  of  the 
steep  ravine,  where  the  mischievous  "  jackos  "  hide, 
who  come  up  at  night  to  play  havoc  with  the  sugar- 
canes  on  its  opposite  side.  The  only  day  of  the 
week  on  which  they  ventured  up  was  Sunday  after- 
noon, when  all  the  world  was  silent  and  sleepy. 

It  used  to  be  my  delight  to  watch  from  an  upper 
bedroom  window  the  stealthy  appearance  of  the  old 
sentinel  monkeys,  who  first  peered  cautiously  up 
and  evidently  reconnoitred  the  ground  thoroughly. 
After  a  few  moments  of  careful  scouting  a  sort  of 
chirrup  would  be  heard,  which  seemed  the  signal 
for  the  rest  of  the  colony  to  scramble  tumultuously 
up  the  bank.  Such  games  as  then  started  among 
the  young  ones,  such  antics  and  tumblings  and 
rompings  !  But  all  the  time  the  sentinels  never  re- 
laxed their  vigilance.  They  spread  like  a  cordon 
round  the  gambolling  young  ones,  and  kept  turning 
their  horribly  wise  human-looking  heads  from  side 
to  side  incessantly,  only  picking  and  chewing  a 
blade  of  grass  now  and  then.  The  mothers  seemed 
to  keep  together,  and  doubtless  gossiped  ;  but  let 
my  old  and  perfectly  harmless  Skye  terrier  toddle 
round  the  corner  of  the  verandah,  and  each  female 
would  dart  into  the  group  of  playing  monkeys, 
seize  her  property  by  its  nearest  leg,  toss  it  over  her 
shoulder,  and  quicker  than  the  eye  could  follow 
she  would  have  disappeared  down  the  ravine.  The 
sentinels  had  uttered  their  warning  cry  directly,  but 


"STELLA  CLAVISQUE   MARIS   INDICI"     87 

they  always  remained  until  the  very  last,  and  re- 
treated in  good  order  ;  though  there  was  no  cause 
for  alarm,  as  "  Boxer's  "  thoughts  were  fixed  on 
the  peacocks — apt  to  trespass  at  those  silent  and 
unguarded  hours — and  not  on  the  monkeys  at  all ! 

This  is  a  sad  digression,  but  yet  it  has  not  led 
us  far  from  that  halcyon  scene,  which  is  so  often 
before  the  eyes  of  my  memory.  The  beautiful 
changing  hues  of  the  Indian  Ocean  binds  the 
horizon  in  this  and  every  other  extensive  island 
view,  but  between  us  and  it  there  arises  in  the 
distance  a  very  forest  of  tall  green  masts,  the  spikes 
of  countless  aloe  blossoms.  I  have  heard  Mauritius 
described  as  "an  island  with  a  barque  always  to 
windward,"  and  there  is  much  truth  in  the  saying  ; 
though  one  could  easily  mistake  the  glancing  wing 
of  a  huge  seagull  or  the  long  white  floating  tail- 
feathers  of  the  "  boatswain  bird  "  for  the  shimmer 
of  a  distant  sail. 

I  fear  it  is  a  very  prosaic  confession  to  make,  but 
one  fact  which  added  considerably  to  my  comfort 
in  Mauritius  was  the  excellence  of  the  cook  of 
that  day.  I  hear  that  education  and  Board  schools 
have  now  improved  him  off  the  face  of  the  island, 
but  he  used  to  be  a  very  clever  mixture  of  the  best 
of  French  and  Indian  cookery  traditions.  The  food 
supply  was  poor.  We  got  our  beef  from  Mada- 
gascar, and  our  mutton  came  from  Aden.  We 
found  it  answer  to  import  half-a-dozen  little  sheep 


88  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

at  a  time ;  they  cost  about  £i  apiece  for  purchase 
and  carriage,  but  could  be  allowed  only  a  month's 
run  in  the  beautiful  park  of  five  hundred  acres 
which  surrounded  Reduit.  More  than  that  made 
them  ill,  so  rich  and  luscious  was  the  grass  ;  for 
sheep,  like  human  beings,  seem  to  need  a  good  deal 
of  exercise,  and,  as  Abernethy  advised  the  rich 
gourmet  to  do,  ought  to  "  live  on  a  shilling  a  day 
and  earn  it." 

These  same  sheep,  however,  or  rather  one  of  the 
servants,  gave  me  one  of  the  worst  frights  of  my 
life.  We  were  at  luncheon  one  day  when  an  under 
servant,  who  never  appeared  in  the  dining-room, 
rushed  in  calling  out,  "  Oh,  Excellence,  quel  mal- 
heur  !  "  then  he  lapsed  into  Hindustani  mixed  with 
patois,  declaring  there  had  been  a  terrible  railway 
accident  and  that  all  were  injured  and  two  killed 
outright !  As  this  same  line,  which  had  a  private 
station  in  the  Park  about  a  mile  away,  constantly 
brought  us  up  friends  at  that  hour,  I  nearly 
fainted  with  horror ;  and  yet  I  remember  how 
angry,  though  relieved,  I  felt  when  the  same 
agitated  individual  wailed  out,  "  and  they  were 
all  so  fat !  "  One  is  apt  to  be  indignant  at  having 
been  tricked  into  emotion  before  one  is  grateful 
for  the  relief  to  one's  mind. 

Almost  the  first  thing  which  struck  me  in 
Mauritius  was  the  absence  of  cows  as  well  as  sheep. 
I  never  saw  a  cow  grazing,  and  yet  there  seemed 


"STELLA  CLAVISQUE   MARIS    INDICI"     89 

plenty  of  good  milk,  and  even  a  pallid  pat  of  fresh 
butter  appeared  at  breakfast.  But  there  were  really 
plenty  of  cows,  only  the  coolies  kept  them  in  their 
houses,  to  the  despair  of  the  sanitary  inspectors, 
who  insisted  on  proper  cowsheds  being  built  at  an 
orthodox  distance  from  the  little  case  or  native 
house,  only  to  find  that  the  family  moved  down 
and  lived  with  the  cow  as  before.  One  year  there 
was  an  outbreak  of  pleuro-pneumonia  among  the 
poor  cows,  and  I  heard  many  pathetic  stories  of  the 
despair  of  the  owners  when  sentence  of  death  had 
to  be  pronounced  in  the  infected  districts  against 
their  beloved  cows.  It  was  impossible  to  make  the 
coolies  understand  that  this  was  a  precautionary 
measure,  and  the  large  and  liberal  compensation 
which  they  received  seemed  to  bring  no  consolation 
whatever  with  it.  I  was  assured  that  in  many 
instances  the  owner  of  the*  doomed  animal  would 
fling  himself  at  the  inspector's  feet,  beseeching  him 
to  spare  the  life  of  the  cow,  and  to  kill  him  (the 
coolie)  instead ! 

The'  roads  in  Mauritius  were  admirably  kept,  but 
very  hard  and  very  hilly.  The  big  horse,  usually 
imported  from  Australia,  soon  knocked  his  legs  to 
pieces  if  much  used  up  and  down  these  hills  ;  but 
an  excellent  class  of  hardy,  handsome,  little  pony 
came  to  us  from  P6gou  and  other  parts  of  Burma, 
as  well  as  from  Timor  and  Java.  These  animals 
were  very  expensive  to  buy,  but  excellent  for  work, 


90  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

and  I  should  think  would  have  made  splendid  polo 
ponies  ;  but  polo  did  not  seem  to  be  much  played 
in  Mauritius  at  that  date. 

Since  my  day  another  frightful  hurricane  has 
devastated  the  poor  little  island,  but  I  heard  many 
stories  of  former  ones.  During  the  summer  season 
— that  is,  from  about  November  until  March  or 
April — the  local  Meteorological  Office  keeps  a  sharp 
eye  on  the  barometer,  and  every  arrangement  is 
cut  and  dry,  ready  to  be  acted  upon  at  a  moment's 
warning,  for  a  coup  de  vent  is  a  rapid  traveller  and 
does  not  dawdle  on  its  way. 

We  had  many  false  alarms  during  my  stay,  for 
it  sometimes  happens  that  the  hurrying  winds  are 
diverted  from  the  track  they  started  on,  and  so  we 
escaped,  quitte  pour  la  peur.  When  the  first  warning 
gun  fired  all  the  ships  in  harbour  began  to  get  ready 
to  go  outside,  for  the  greatest  mischief  done  in  the 
big  hurricane  of  1868  was  from  the  crowded  vessels 
in  the  comparatively  small  harbour  of  Port  Louis 
grinding  against  each  other ;  to  say  nothing  of 
those  ships  which,  as  Kipling  sings,  were 

"  Flung  to  roost  with  the  startled  crows." 

At  the  second  signal  gun,  which  meant  that  the 
force  of  the  wind  was  increasing  and  travelling 
towards  us,  the  ships  got  themselves  out  of  harbour, 
and  every  business  man  who  lived  in  the  country 
betook  himself  to  the  railway  station,  as  after  the 
third  gun,  which  might  be  heard  within  even  half- 


"STELLA   CLAVISQUE   MARIS   INDICI"     91 

an-hour,  the  trains  would  cease  to  run.  I  chanced 
to  be  returning  from  Port  Louis  on  one  of  these 
occasions,  and  certainly  the  railway  station  pre- 
sented a  curious  sight.  All  my  acquaintances 
seemed  to  be  there,  hurrying  home  with  anxious 
and  pre-occupied  faces.  Each  man  grasped  a  ham 
firmly  in  one  hand  and  his  despatch-box  in  the 
other,  whilst  his  pion,  or  messenger,  was  following, 
closely  laden  with  baskets  of  bread  and  groceries, 
and  attended  by  coolies  with  live  fowls  and  bottles 
of  lamp  oil !  My  own  head  servant,  "  Monsieur 
Jorge,"  always  made  the  least  sign  of  a  "  blow  " 
an  excuse  for  demanding  sundry  extra  rupees  in 
hand  for  carriole  money,  and  started  directly  in  one 
of  these  queer  little  vehicles  for  a  round  of  market- 
ing in  the  neighbourhood. 

At  the  first  gun  heard  at  Reduit  an  army  of 
gardeners  used  to  set  to  work  to  move  the  hundreds 
of  large  plants  out  of  the  verandahs  into  a  big 
empty  room  close  by.  They  were  followed  by  the 
house-carpenter  and  his  mates,  armed  with  enormous 
iron  wedges  and  sledge-hammers.  These  worthies 
proceeded  to  close  'the  great  clumsy  hurricane 
shutters,  which  so  spoil  the  outer  effect  of  all 
Mauritian  houses,  and  besides  putting  the  heavy 
iron  bars  in  their  places,  wedged  them  firmly  down. 
It  really  looked  as  if  the  house  was  being  prepared 
for  a  siege.  Happily,  my  own  experience  did  not 
extend  beyond  a  couple  of  days  of  this  state  of 


92  COLONIAL  MEMORIES 

affairs,  nor  was  any  storm  I  assisted  at  dignified 
by  the  name  of  a  hurricane,  but  I  could  form  from 
these  little  experiences  only  too  good  an  idea  of 
what  the  real  thing  must  be  like.  Personally,  my 
greatest  inconvenience  arose  from  the  pervading 
smell  of  the  lamps,  which  were,  of  course,  burning 
all  day  as  well  as  all  night,  and  from  our  never 
being  able  to  get  rid  of  the  smell  of  food.  One  was 
so  accustomed  to  the  fresh-air  life,  with  doors  and 
windows  always  open,  that  these  odours  were  very 
trying. 

But  the  noise  is,  I  think,  what  is  least  under- 
stood. Even  in  a  "blow"  it  is  truly  deafening, 
and  never  ceases  for  an  instant.  At  R6duit  there 
was  a  long  well-defended  corridor  upstairs,  and  I 
thought  I  would  try  and  walk  along  its  length. 
Not  a  breath  of  wind  really  got  in,  or  the  roof  would 
soon  have  been  whisked  off  the  house  ;  but  although 
I  flatter  myself  I  am  tolerably  brave,  I  could  not 
walk  down  that  corridor !  Every  yard  or  so  a  re- 
sounding blow,  as  if  from  a  cannon-ball,  would 
come  thundering  against  the  outer  side,  whilst  the 
noise  of  many  waters  descending  in  solid  sheets  on 
the  roof,  and  the  screams  of  the  shrieking,  whistling 
winds  outside,  were  literally  deafening.  It  was 
impossible  to  believe  that  any  structure  made  by 
human  hands  could  stand  ;  and  yet  that  was  not 
a  hurricane  !  Never  shall  I  forget  my  last  outdoor 
glimpse,  which  I  was  invited  to  take  just  before 


"STELLA  CLAVISQUE   MARIS    INDICI"     93 

the  big  hall-door  on  the  leeward  side  was  finally 
shut  and  barricaded.  I  could  not  have  believed  that 
the  sky  could  be  of  such  an  inky  blackness,  except 
at  one  corner,  where  a  triangle  of  the  curtain  of 
darkness,  with  sharply  denned  outlines,  had  appa- 
rently just  been  turned  back  to  show  the  deep 
blood-red  colouring  behind.  It  was  awful  beyond 
all  words  to  describe  ;  but  "  Monsieur  Jorge,"  who 
held  the  door  open  for  me,  said  :  "  Dat  not  real 
bad  sky."  He  seemed  hard  to  please,  I  thought. 

However,  a  couple  of  days'  imprisonment  was 
all  we  suffered  that  time,  and  the  instant  the  gale 
dropped,  at  sunrise  on  the  second  day,  the  rain 
ceased  and  the  sun  shone  out.  It  was  a  curious 
scene  the  rapidly- opened  shutters  revealed.  Every 
leaf  was  stripped  off  the  trees,  which  were  bare  as 
mid-winter.  A  few  of  the  smaller  ones  had  been 
uprooted  bodily  and  whisked  away  down  the  ravine. 
Some  were  found  later  literally  standing  on  their 
heads  a  good  way  off.  It  was  quite  a  new  idea  to 
me  that  roots  could  be  snowy  white,  but  they  had 
been  so  completely  washed  bare  of  soil  by  the 
down-pouring  rain  that  they  were  absolutely  clean 
and  white.  A  few  hours  later  I  was  taken  for  a 
drive  round  some  neighbouring  cane-fields.  Of 
course,  the  road  was  like  the  bed  of  a  mountain 
torrent,  and  how  the  pony  managed  to  steer  him- 
self and  the  gig  among  the  boulders  must  ever 
remain  a  mystery.  Already  over  three  hundred 


94  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

Malagashes  (coolies)  were  at  work  covering  up  the 
exposed  roots  of  the  canes,  for  each  plant  stood  in 
a  large  hole  partly  filled  with  water,  which  was 
rapidly  draining  away.  The  force  of  the  wind 
seemed  to  have  whirled  the  cane  round  and  round 
until  it  stood,  quite  bare  of  its  crown  of  waving 
leaves,  in  the  middle  of  a  hole.  Had  the  sun 
reached  these  e'xposed  roots  nothing  could  have 
saved  the  plant. 

But  my  memories  must  not  be  all  meteorological. 
Rather  let  me  return  in  thought  to  the  merry  and 
happy  intercourse  with  pleasant  friends,  of  which 
so  many  hours  stand  brightly  out.  In  all  the 
colonies  I  know  hospitality  is  one  of  the  cardinal 
virtues,  and  nowhere  more  so  than  in  pretty  little 
Mauritius.  I  heard  many  lamentations  that  in 
these  altered  times  the  gracious  will  far  outran  the 
restricted  possibilities,  but  still  there  used  to  be 
pleasant  dances,  without  end  and  number,  most 
amusing  cameron-fishing  dejeuners,  and  chasses 
au  cerf  in  the  winter  months.  It  so  chanced 
that  we  had  a  guest  hailing  from  Exmoor,  who  was 
bidden  to  one  of  these  popular  forms  of  le  sport, 
and  never  shall  I  forget  his  horror  at  finding  he  was 
required  to  carry  a  gun  and  shoot  a  stag  if  he  could  ! 
No  fox-hunter  invited  to  assist  at  a  battue  of  foxes 
in  the  Midlands  could  have  been  more  shocked  and 
disgusted,  and  it  was  quite  in  vain  that  we  cited 
Scotch  deer-stalking  in  excuse.  This  was  not  deer- 


"STELLA   CLAVISQUE    MARIS   INDICI"     95 

stalking  he  vowed,  for  you  sat  on  a  camp-stool  in 
a  thick  forest  and  took  pot  shots  at  the  poor 
animals  as  they  were  driven  past  certain  spots  !  An 
excellent  luncheon  was  served  in  the  middle  of  the 
chasse,  so  it  was  always  a  favourite  diversion,  but 
the  hospitable  owner  of  one  of  the  best  deer  districts 
told  me  that  he  had  to  inflict  fines  on  these  sports- 
men who  only  wounded  the  poor  deer.  Some  very 
handsome  "  heads  "  could  be  got  among  them  how- 
ever. But,  indeed,  I  am  constrained  to  say  that 
the  idea  of  sport,  as  we  understand  it,  seemed 
rather  undeveloped  in  that  fairy  island,  and  it  was 
difficult  to  keep  one's  countenance  when,  in  answer 
to  the  Governor's  inquiry  as  to  the  success  of  a 
morning  among  the  cane-fields  in  pursuit  of  red- 
legged  patridges  and  quail,  the  sportsman  rose  in 
his  place,  bowed  low,  and  answered,  "  Excellence, 
j'ai  tue  un,  mais  j'ai  blesse  deux." 

The  annual  race-meeting,  held  on  the  Champ- 
de-Mars  outside  Port  Louis,  was  remarkable  for  the 
crowds  of  coolies  it  attracted  from  all  parts  of  the 
island.  The  horses  were  the  least  important  or 
interesting  part  of  the  performance,  and  the  betting 
on  even  the  principal  races  appeared  to  be  confined 
to  a  fe~w  Arab  merchants,  who  certainly  did  not 
look  at  all  "  horsey "  in  their  gay  and  flowing 
robes.  It  so  chanced  that  I  was  being  driven 
home  very  late  the  night  before  the  third  principal 
day  of  one  of  these  race-meetings,  and  I  thought 


96  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

the  shuffling,  sheeted  crowds  with  which  the  roads 
were  thronged  by  far  the  most  curious  and  sug- 
gestive part  of  the  proceedings.  No  cemetery 
giving  up  its  silent  sleepers  could  have  furnished 
a  more  ghostly  crew.  Young  and  old,  babes 
astride  on  their  mothers'  hips,  older  children 
carried  by  their  fathers,  aged  men  and  girls  in 
their  shrouding  veils,  all  gliding,  barefooted,  in 
absolute  silence  along  the  dusty  roads  in  such  a 
dense  and  never-ending  crowd  that  my  carriage 
could  only  move,  and  that  with  difficulty,  at  a 
foot's  pace.  It  was  a  lovely  starlight,  cold  night, 
and  I  had  the  hood  of  the  victoria  lowered  so  as 
to  better  take  in  the  weird  scene,  to  which  the 
dangling  cooking-pots  carried  by  all,  added  a  gro- 
tesque touch.  At  various  parts  of  the  road  the  wily 
Chinaman  had  hastily  set  up  a  little  booth  of  palm 
branches,  from  which  he  dispensed  refreshments  of 
sorts  doubtless  at  a  high  price.  These  moving 
masses  were  perfectly  orderly,  nor  did  they  seem 
to  require  any  restraining  or  even  guiding  force. 

Next  day  I  naturally  looked  out  from  my  beauti- 
ful rose-wreathed  stand  on  the  Champ-de-Mars  for 
these  white-clad  crowds,  and  there  they  were,  sure 
enough,  covering  the  slopes  of  the  encircling  natural 
amphitheatre,  but  to  my  astonishment,  though  it 
was  barely  noon  and  the  principal  race  was  yet  to  be 
run,  the  massed  mob  was  rapidly  dispersing.  As  a 
matter  of  fact,  none  of  these  fifty  thousand  coolie 


"STELLA   CLAVISQUE   MARIS    INDICI"     97 

spectators  cared  in  the  least  about  the  races.  That 
final  Saturday  of  the  race  week  had  come  to  be 
regarded  as  a  public  holiday.  Work  was  suspended 
at  the  sugar  estates  all  over  the  Island,  and  the  race 
meeting  was  just  an  occasion  on  which  all  ex- 
pected to  meet  their  friends.  Every  coolie  had 
washed  his  garment  to  a  snowy  whiteness,  and 
this,  taken  in  conjunction  with  the  vivid  touches 
of  colour  dear  to  the  Oriental  eye,  furnished  by 
the  babies'  little  scarlet  caps  and  the  red  edging 
of  the  women's  veils,  made  up  an  enchanting 
picture  set  against  the  vivid  green  and  glowing 
blue  of  earth  and  sky. 

It  was  always  great  fun  when  the  flagship  of  the 
East  Indian  squadron  paid  us  an  all  too  brief  visit ; 
and,  indeed,  the  arrival  of  any  man-of-war  used 
to  be  made  an  excuse  for  a  little  extra  gaiety.  It 
was  my  special  delight  to  get  the  midshipmen 
to  come  in  batches  and  stay  at  Reduit,  although 
I  often  found  myself  at  my  wits'  end  to  pro- 
vide them  with  game  to  shoot  at,  for  that  was 
what  their  hearts  were  most  fixed  on.  They  all 
brought  up  weird  and  obsolete  fowling-pieces,  which 
the  moment  they  had  finished  breakfast  they 
wanted  to  go  and  let  off  in  the  park.  What  fun 
those  boys  were,  and  what  dears  !  One  chubby 
youth,  being  questioned  as  to  whether  midshipmen 
were  permitted  to  marry,  answered,  "  No,  but 
sometimes  there  was  a  candlestick  marriage." 

G 


98  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

"  A  what  ?  " 

"  A  candlestick  marriage,  sir, — not  allowed,  you 
know." 

"  Clandestine  "  was  the  proper  word,  but  the 
mistake  had  great  success  as  a  joke. 

My  young  soldier  guests  were  quite  as  gallant 
and  susceptible  to  the  charms  of  the  bright  eyes 
and  pretty,  gentle  manners  of  my  pet  French  girls, 
but  I  often  felt  disconcerted  to  find  that  at  my 
numerous  bats  prive's  there  was  a  difficulty  in  getting 
the,m  to  dance  with  each  other,  because  the  red- 
coated  youths  would  not  or  could  not  speak  one 
word  of  French,  whereas  that  difficulty  never 
seemed  to  weigh  with  the  middy  for  a  moment. 

I  dare  say  things  are  now  different,  and  that 
improved  mail  and  cable  services  have  changed 
the  loneliness  of  my  day,  when  there  was  no  cable 
beyond  Aden  and  only  a  mail  steamer  once  a  month. 
I  always  felt  as  though  we  ourselves  were  on  a  ship 
anchored  in  the  midst  of  a  lonely  ocean,  and  that 
once  in  four  weeks  another  ship  sped  past  us,  cast- 
ing on  board  mail  bags  and  cablegrams.  But  even 
as  we  stood  with  stretched-out  hands,  craving  for 
more  news  or  more  details  of  what  news  was  flung 
to  us,  the  passing  steamer  had  sunk  below  the 
horizon,  and  we  were  left  to  possess  our  souls  in 
what  patience  we  might  until  the  next  mail  day 
came  round. 

The  consequence  of  this  comparative  isolation 


"STELLA   CLAVISQUE   MARIS   INDICI"    99 

was  that  few  visitors  came  our  way,  so  that  it 
aroused  quite  a  little  excitement  in  our  small  com- 
munity to  hear  that  the  Government  of  Madagascar 
— a  curious  mixture  in  that  day  of  power  vested  in 
the  hands  of  a  Queen,  who  was  always  expected  to 
marry  her  prime  minister — intended  to  send  three 
delegates  to  Europe  via  Mauritius  to  protest 
against  the  proposed  French  protectorate.  These 
delegates  were  dignified  by  the  name  of  Ambas- 
sadors, and  their  mission  was  to  seek  the  interven- 
tion of  Great  Britain  and  other  European  powers. 
We  were  instructed  to  receive  them  with  all  official 
courtesy,  including  salutes  from  big  guns  and 
guards  of  honour  and  so  forth  ;  the  worst  of  all 
this  ceremonial  being  that  the  idea  became  firmly 
impressed  on  their  minds  that  England  was  quite 
prepared  to  take  up  their  quarrel,  or,  at  least,  to 
remonstrate  with  France.  So  it  was  a  very  happy 
and  hopeful  trio  of  "  Ambassadors  "  who  presented 
themselves,  with  a  number  of  attendants,  including 
several  interpreters,  at  R£duit  one  evening  to  go 
through  the  ordeal  of  a  formal  banquet. 

I  confess  to  a  certain  amount  of  curiosity  when 
I  heard  that  the  ambassadors  were  not  only  as 
black  as  jet,  but  they  were  quite  unused  to  the 
forms  of  society,  and  that,  in  fact,  their  only  experi- 
ence of  the  ways  of  English  folk  was  gathered 
from  Wesleyan  missionaries  near  their  chief  towns. 
Indeed,  the  only  English  entertainment  they  had 


ioo  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

ever  seen  was  a  school-feast  to  little  native  children, 
at  which  they  had  been  onlookers,  and  which,  as 
one  of  the  interpreters  informed  me,  had  seemed 
to  them  a  strange  and  puzzling  performance. 

However,  when  the  dinner-hour  arrived  I  beheld 
three  fine,  dignified  and  stately  gentlemen,  quite 
as  black  nevertheless  as  their  faultless  evening 
dress,  the  only  false  note  being  a  massive  gold 
watch  chain,  from  which  dangled  rather  an 
aggressive  bunch  of  lockets  and  other  ornaments, 
and  with  which  each  ambassador  was  decorated. 
Beautiful  bows  were  exchanged,  and  nothing  could 
be  more  correct  than  the  fashion  in  which  the 
senior  dignitary  offered  me  his  arm.  With  an  in- 
terpreter on  my  left  hand  we  got  on  famously  all 
through  dinner,  with  absolutely  no  mistakes  in 
essentials,  though  I  often  observed  some  anxiety 
in  the  interpreter's  face.  I  suppose  he  felt  re- 
sponsible for  their  manners.  But  the  false  hopes 
were  there  all  the  time,  and  I  felt  myself  to  be 
quite  a  cruel  monster  when  I  had  to  whisper  to 
the  interpreter  to  explain  to  his  black  Excellency, 
that  it  was  only  the  usual  custom  for  the  Governor 
to  propose  after  the  toast  of  our  own  Queen  the 
health  of  the  sovereign  of  any  foreign  guests  at  table. 
Poor  ambassadors !  they  thought  this  common- 
place courtesy  meant  a  public  announcement  of 
England's  intention  of  ranging  herself  on  their  side 
of  the  question  at  issue.  One  did  not  realise  at 


" STELLA   CLAV1SQUE    MARIS   INDICI"    101 

the  time  what  a  deadly  importance  they  attached 
to  all  these  trifles,  nor  would  we  perhaps  have 
wondered  at  it  so  much  had  we  known  that  they 
felt  their  own  lives  depended  on  the  success  of 
the  mission.  They  considered  it  a  most  hopeful 
sign  when  I  asked  them  after  dinner  to  write 
their  names  in  my  little  birthday-book  ;  and  most 
astonishing  names  they  were,  each  name  occupying 
three  lines,  but  all  apparently  forming  one  syllable  ! 
They  seemed  quite  familiar  with  a  pen,  and  each 
letter  was  beautifully  formed,  only  they  were  all 
joined  together. 

There  is  an  excellent  and  most  comfortable  rule 
in  the  Colonial  Service  which  forbids  a  Governor 
to  receive  any  gifts.  I  suppose  it  would  also  apply 
to  a  Governor's  wife  if  the  said  gifts  were  of  any 
intrinsic  value ;  but  I  did  not  see  my  way  to  wound- 
ing the  feelings  of  my  poor  guests  that  evening  by 
sheltering  myself  behind  official  etiquette  when 
they  tendered  a  hideous  little  glass  biscuit-box 
and  a  sort  of  native  quilt  (spoiled  by  vivid  aniline 
dyes)  for  my  acceptance.  Yet  I  had  terrible  mis- 
givings all  the  time  that  they  thought  they  were 
securing  my  interest  and  co-operation  in  their 
affairs,  and  I  even  edged  in  a  word  or  two  in  my 
thanks  through  the  interpreter  to  imply  that  ac- 
ceptance of  their  gifts  must  be  taken  "  without 
prejudice."  I  do  not  believe,  however,  that  he 
had  the  heart  to  pass  my  remark  on,  for  the 


102  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

ambassadors  beamed  joyously  on  me  and  the  rest 
of  the  company  all  the  time. 

I  heard  afterwards  that  they  had  made  desperate 
efforts  at  all  the  European  Courts,  beginning  with 
that  of  St.  James's  to  secure  intervention,  and  that 
it  was  impossible  to  make  them  understand  that 
no  one  was  able  or  willing  to  take  up  their  quarrel. 
So  in  the  fulness  of  time,  their  money  being  all 
spent,  they  had  to  return  to  their  own  land,  where 
failure  meant  death,  which  I  believe  they  welcomed 
rather  than  the  new  order  of  things. 


VII 
GENERAL  CHARLES  GORDON 

I  FEEL  as  if  no  sketch,  however  slight,  of  my  short 
stay  in  beautiful  Mauritius  would  be  complete 
without  a  reference  to  General  Gordon.  Soon 
after  our  own  arrival  Colonel  Charles  Gordon  came 
in  command  of  the  small  body  of  Royal  Engineers 
stationed  there.  From  the  very  first  his  delightful 
personality  made  itself  felt,  and  although  I  suspect 
that  very  few  of  the  island-dwellers  had  the  least 
idea  of  what  a  name  to  conjure  with  "  Chinese 
Gordon  "  was,  still  he  at  once  assumed  that  amazing 
sway  over  men's  hearts  of  which  he  possessed  the 
secret.  Looking  back  on  it  through  all  these  years 
I  think  the  wonderful  humility  of  the  man  is  the 
first  thing  one  realises.  He  took  up  his  duties  and 
his  position  in  that  obscure  little  corner  of  the 
Empire  with  just  as  much  interest  and  simplicity 
as  though  he  had  never  led  armies  to  victory  or 
changed  the  fate  of  nations.  I  am  proud  to  say 
we  saw  a  great  deal  of  him,  though  it  had  to  be  on 
his  own  terms  and  in  his  own  way.  Of  course,  he 

was  asked  to  the  large  and  formal  entertainments 

103 


104  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

at  Reduit,  but  he  always  excused  himself,  and  only 
came  to  dine  with  us  when  we  were  quite  alone.  He 
would  change  into  the  mess  uniform,  which  it  was 
the  custom  always  to  wear  at  Government  House, 
in  the  carriole  which  brought  him  up,  and  he  once 
gave  this  as  an  excuse  for  the  extreme  crookedness 
of  his  black  neck-tie. 

On  these  occasions,  which  I  am  happy  to  say 
were  very  frequent,  the  dinner  had  to  be  of  the 
most  simple  character  and  compressed  into  the 
shortest  possible  space.  I  do  not  remember  whether 
he  took  wine  or  not,  but  he  consumed  an  immense 
amount  of  black  coffee,  not  at  dinner,  but  directly 
after,  when  we  adjourned  to  the  verandah  and 
cigarettes  were  lighted.  Every  half -hour  a  servant 
brought  a  fresh  cup  of  fragrant  coffee,  and  noise- 
lessly put  it  on  the  little  table  at  Colonel  Gordon's 
elbow,  and  this  went  on  for  hours !  It  is  im- 
possible to  convey  in  words  any  idea  of  the  singular 
charm  of  Gordon's  conversation.  With  so  apprecia- 
tive and  sympathetic  a  listener  as  my  dear  husband 
was,  he  gave  of  his  best  and  that  was  very  good. 
Not  in  the  least  egotistical,  his  vivid  narratives 
were  the  most  thrillingly  interesting  it  has  ever 
been  my  good  fortune  to  listen  to.  Every  word 
he  said,  for  all  its  picturesqueness,  bore  the 
stamp  of  reality,  and  the  scenes  he  described  at 
once  stood  out  before  your  eyes.  A  question  now 
and  then  was  all  that  was  needed  to  sustain  the 


GENERAL  CHARLES  GORDON   105 

delightful  flow  of  talk.  He  never  uttered  a  word 
which  could  be  called  "  cant,"  nor  did  he  bring 
his  religious  opinions  into  prominence.  One 
gathered  from  his  utterances  that  he  was  more 
deeply  imbued  with  the  "  enthusiasm  of  humanity  " 
than  with  any  dogma. 

His  eyes  were  the  most  remarkable  part  of  his 
face,  and  I  cannot  imagine  any  one  who  has  ever 
seen  them  forgetting  their  wonderful  beauty.  It 
was  not  merely  that  they  were  of  a  crystal  clear- 
ness and  as  blue  as  a  summer  sky,  but  the  ex- 
pression was  different  to  that  of  any  other  human 
eye  I  have  ever  seen.  In  the  first  place, 
instead  of  the  trained,  conventional  glance  with 
which  we  habitually  regard  each  other  and  which, 
certainly  at  first,  tells  you  nothing  whatever 
of  your  new  acquaintance's  character  or  inner 
nature,  Gordon's  beautiful,  noble  soul  looked 
straight  at  you,  directly  from  out  of  these  clear 
eyes.  They  revealed  him  at  once,  as  he  was,  and 
I  am  sure  the  secret  of  his  extraordinary  and  almost 
instantaneous  influence  over  his  fellow-creatures 
lay  in  that  glance.  There  was  a  sort  of  wistful 
tenderness  in  it  for  all  its  penetration,  an  extra- 
ordinary magnetic  sympathy,  and  yet  you  felt  its 
authority.  The  rest  of  his  face  was  rugged,  and, 
I  suppose,  what  would  be  called  plain,  but  one  never 
thought  of  anything  beyond  the  soul  shining  out 
of  those  wonderful  windows.  To  look  at  any  other 


io6  COLONIAL  MEMORIES 

face  after  his  was  like  looking  at  a  lifeless  mask. 
A  few  months  after  he  arrived  the  General  com- 
manding the  troops  in  Mauritius  left,  and  Colonel 
Gordon  was  promoted  and  succeeded  him.  He 
had  been  very  active  among  the  Chinese  mercantile 
class  (a  very  numerous  one)  and  had  done  much 
good,  not  merely  of  a  missionary  but  of  a  social 
nature,  explaining  the  duties  of  citizenship  to  them, 
and  enforcing  local  laws  and  rules  which  they 
probably  had  not  understood.  That  part  of  the 
community  became  much  easier  to  manage  after 
he  took  them  in  hand. 

But  there  was  a  strangely  unpractical  side  to 
General  Gordon's  nature,  apart  from  his  utter 
disregard  of  what  might  be  called  his  own  interests. 
Those  he  never  thought  of  for  one  moment,  and 
I  honestly  believe  that  his  feelings  about  the  value 
or  importance  of  money — as  money — we're  on  a 
par  with  the  ideas  of  a  nice  child  of  five  years  old  ! 
Coins  of  the  realm  remained  but  a  short  time  in 
his  pocket,  and  were  only  welcome  to  him  as  a 
means  of  helping  others.  Still  his  charity  was 
not  at  all  indiscriminate,  and  in  the  numerous 
instances  of  which  I  knew  his  help  was  always 
judiciously  given. 

Curiously  enough,  the  scheme  of  defence  for 
Mauritius,  which  General  Gordon  was  requested 
officially  to  draw  up,  was  found  to  be  absolutely 
impossible.  He  bestowed  much  pains  and  care 


GENERAL  CHARLES  GORDON   107 

on  it,  but  his  plans  involved  many  alterations 
and  changes  not  one  of  which  were  found  practic- 
able. I  have  in  my  possession  some  charming 
letters  of  his  to  my  husband,  who  had  written 
privately  to  the  General  to  state  that  in  forward- 
ing this  scheme  of  defence  to  the  War  Office,  he, 
as  Lieutenant-Governor,  had  felt  obliged  to  dis- 
agree entirely  with  it,  and  to  point  out  the  utter 
impossibility  on  every  ground  of  carrying  it  out. 
Now  my  husband  was  one  of  General  Gordon's 
warmest  and  most  discriminating  admirers,  and  he 
showed  me  the  private  correspondence  on  the 
subject  as  illustrating  the  noble  and  beautiful 
nature  of  the  man.  There  was  not  the  slightest 
trace  of  annoyance  or  even  pique  at  the  uncom- 
promising terms  in  which  a  civilian  Governor  had 
felt  it  his  duty  to  differ  from  so  eminent  a  military 
authority.  The  General  just  recognised  that  it 
was  a  plain  expression  of  an  honest  opinion  and 
respected  it  accordingly,  nor  was  there  the  slightest 
friction  between  them  nor  the  least  check  upon 
their  friendly  intercourse. 

I  remember  particularly  one  merry  evening  in 
the  verandah  after  dinner,  when  the  General  had 
just  returned  from  an  official  visit  to  the  Seychelles, 
a  little  group  of  islands  nearly  1000  miles  from 
Mauritius,  but  in  those  days  one  of  its  dependences. 
He  was  full  of  a  brand  new  theory,  based  on  the 
coco-de-mer,  a  gigantic  palm  which  he  saw  for  the 


io8  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

first  time,  and  which  convinced  him  that  he  had 
discovered  the  site  of  the  Garden  of  Eden.  He 
explained  with  great  eagerness  how  he  felt  sure  of 
the  existence  of  the  four  encircling  rivers  of  that 
favoured  spot  (only  they  now  ran  underground),  but 
his  strong  point  was  the  strange  weird  fruit  which 
hung,  some  eighty  feet  or  so  above  the  ground, 
from  those  splendid  palms  which  are  peculiar  to 
the  Seychelles  group.  In  vain  the  Governor  pointed 
out,  with  much  laughter,  that  our  first  parents 
must  have  been  of  a  goodly  height  to  reach  this 
fruit,  and  in  the  next,  that  it  was  not  good  to  eat ! 

The  dear  General  bore  all  our  chaff  with  the 
sweetest  good-humour,  but  remained  as  firmly 
fixed  as  ever  in  his  idea.  He  was  most  eager  and 
earnest  about  it  all,  and,  though  he  found  our 
laughter  infectious  and  joined  heartily  in  it,  nothing 
made  the  least  impression  on  him,  and  I  believe 
he  always  thought  the  Garden  of  Eden  had  once 
united  that  little  group  of  islets  in  one  exquisite 
whole — for  Mahe  is  certainly  a  lovely  spot  and  as 
fertile  as  it  is  fair. 

We  always  felt  we  could  not  expect  to  keep  him 
long  with  us  in  Mauritius  though  he  never  chafed 
nor  repined  in  any  way,  and  just  did  his  duty  from 
day  to  day,  and  whatever  other  work  for  his  fellow- 
me'n  his  hand  found  to  do,  with  all  his  might.  But 
all  too  soon  he  was  summoned  home,  and  quite  the 
next  thing  we  heard  of  him  was  that  he  was  going 


GENERAL  CHARLES   GORDON        109 

out  to  India  with  the  new  Governor-General,  Lord 
Ripon,  as  his  Private  Secretary.  We  all  exclaimed 
at  once,  "  Think  of  the  dinner-parties !  "  and  were 
not  at  all  surprised  to  hear  how  short  a  time  that 
arrangement  had  lasted,  though  the  dreaded  form 
of  entertainment  had  really  nothing  whatever  to 
do  with  Gordon's  resignation  of  his  post  long  before 
India  was  reached.  From  time  to  time  he  wrote 
to  my  husband,  and  we  followed  every  step  of  his 
subsequent  career  with  the  deepest  interest.  I 
have  since  heard,  I  do  not  know  with  what  truth, 
that  it  was  a  mistake  in  a  telegram  which  pre- 
vented his  going  to  the  Congo  on  King  Leopold's 
business  instead  of  to  Egypt  on  ours.  However 
that  may  be,  the  rest  of  the  story  was  quite  in 
harmony  with  what  one  had  known  of  him,  but 
of  all  those  who  sorrowed  for  his  tragic  fate — and 
it  was  a  nation  that  grieved — no  one  lamented  him 
more  than  his  official  chief  of  the  Mauritian  days. 


VIII 
WESTERN  AUSTRALIA 

FEW  people  can  realise  how  rapid  is  the  growth 
of  a  colony  when  once  it  begins  to  grow.  Like  a 
young  tree,  after  reaching  a  certain  stage,  it  may 
seem  to  have  almost  attained  its  limit,  and  one 
often  feels  disappointed  that  more  visible  progress 
has  not  been  made.  But  come  again  a  little  later, 
and  you  will  find  your  sapling  shooting  rapidly 
up  into  a  splendid  tree.  It  was  really  growing, 
as  it  were,  under  ground  ;  searching  with  its  roots 
for  the  most  favourable  conditions.  Perhaps  there 
was  a  piece  of  rock  to  be  got  round  before  the  good 
soil  could  be  reached,  but  the  little  tree  was  cover- 
ing that  rock  all  the  time  with  a  network  of  roots 
so  that  it  ceased  to  be  an  obstacle  and  was  gathered 
up  and  assimilated  with  its  growth.  In  the  decade 
between  1880  and  1890  Western  Australia  was 
just  in  that  stage,  and  the  splendid  young  giant  of 
to-day  must  have  been  growing  underground  th,en, 
though  it  did  not  seem  to  be  making  much  progress 
as  a  colony.  In  those  days  we  sadly  called  our- 


WESTERN    AUSTRALIA  in 

selves  "  Cinderella,"  but  the  Fairy  Prince — Re- 
sponsible Government — was  not  far  off,  and  I  am 
proud  to  remember  that  my  dear  husband,  then 
Governor  of  the  colony,  was  one  of  those  who 
helped  to  open  the  door  and  let  Prince  Charming  in. 

They  tell  me  the  colony  is  quite  different  now, 
and  that  Perth  is  unrecognisable.  I  try  to  be 
glad  to  hear  it,  and  keep  repeating  to  myself  that 
the  revenue  of  a  month  now  is  what  we  thought 
good  for  a  year,  fifteen  years  ago.  But  no  one  can 
be  more  than  happy,  and  I  question  very  much  if 
the  rich  people  there  to-day  are  any  happier  or 
even  better  off,  in  the  true  sense  of  the  words, 
than  we  were.  Of  course,  enormous  progress  has 
been  made,  and  many  of  the  works  and  wants 
which  we  only  dreamed  of  and  longed  for,  have 
suddenly  become  accomplished  facts.  Our  Cinder- 
ella's shoes  have  turned  out  to  be  made  of  gold, 
but  they  pinch  her  now  and  then,  and  have  to 
be  eased  here  and  there.  Still  they  are,  no  doubt, 
true  fairy  shoes,  and  will  grow  conveniently  with 
the  growth  of  her  feet. 

In  our  day — which  began  in  May  1883 — the 
colony  was  as  quiet  and  primitive  as  possible,  but 
none  the  less  delightful  and  essentially  homelike. 
I  must  confess  that  one  of  its  greatest  attractions 
in  my  eyes  was  what  more  youthful  and  enter- 
prising spirits  used  to  call  the  dulness  of  Perth. 
But  it  never  was  really  dull.  To  me  their  always 


ii2  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

appeared  to  be  what  I  see  American  newspapers 
describe  as  "  happenings  "  going  on. 

For  instance,  one  morning  I  was  called  into  the 
Governor's  office  to  look  at  a  tin  collar  just  sent 
up  from  the  port  of  Freemantle  for  the  Governor's 
inspection.  It  appeared  that  the  two  little  children 
of  a  respectable  tradesman  in  Freemantle  had  that 
morning  been  playing  on  a  lonely  part  of  the  beach, 
and  had  observed  a  large  strange  bird,  half  floating, 
half  borne  in  by  the  incoming  tide.  It  was  a  very 
flat  bit  of  shore  just  there,  and  the  sea  was  as 
smooth  as  glass,  so  the  boy — bold  and  brave,  as 
colonial  boys  are — fearing  to  lose  the  curious 
creature,  waded  in  a  little  way,  and,  seizing  it 
by  the  tip  of  the  outstretched  wing,  dragged  it 
safely  to  land.  There,  after  a  few  convulsive 
movements  and  struggles,  the  poor  bird  died, 
and  the  little  ones  wisely  set  off  at  once  to  fetch 
their  father  to  look  at  what  they  thought  was  an 

enormous  seagull.    When  Mr.  arrived  at  the 

spot,  he  at  once  saw  that  the  bird  was  an  albatross, 
and  furthermore  that  a  large  fish  was  sticking  in 
its  throat.  A  closer  inspection  revealed  that  a 
sort  of  tin  collar  round  the  neck,  large  enough  to 
allow  of  its  feeding  under  ordinary  circumstances, 
but  not  wide  enough  to  let  so  big  a  fish  pass  down 
its  gullet,  had  strangled  it.  The  collar  had  evi- 
dently formed  part  of  a  preserved  meat  tin  of 
rather  a  large  size,  with  the  top  and  bottom  knocked 


WESTERN   AUSTRALIA  113 

out,  and  around  it  were  these  words,  punched 
quite  distinctly  in  the  tin,  probably  by  the  point 
of  a  nail : — 

"  Treize  nauf rage's  sont  refugie's  sur  les  lies  Crozets, 
ce  " — then  followed  a  date  of  about  twelve  days 
before.  "  Au  secours,  pour  V amour  de  Dieu  /  " 

In  those  days  everything  used  to  be  referred 

to  the  Governor,  so  Mr.  at  once  went  to  the 

police  station,  got  an  Inspector  to  come  and  look 
at  the  bird,  hear  the  children's  story,  take  the 
collar  off — a  work  of  some  difficulty,  in  fact  the 
head  had  to  be  cut  off — and  bring  it  up  by  next 
train  to  Perth. 

It  was  an  intensely  interesting  story,  and  aroused 
all  our  sympathy.  A  telegram  was  at  once  sent 
off  to  the  Admiral  commanding  on  the  Australian 
station,  telling  the  tale,  and  asking  for  help  to  be 
sent  to  the  Crozets  ;  but  the  swiftly  returned  answer 
stated,  with  great  regret,  that  it  was  impossible  to 
do  this,  and  that  the  Cape  Squadron  was  the  one 
to  communicate  with.  Now  unfortunately  this  was 
impossible  in  those  days,  so  another  message  was 
despatched  directly  to  the  Minister  for  Marine 
Affairs  in  Paris,  and  next  day  we  heard  that  the 
Department  had  discovered — through  an  apparently 
admirable  system  of  ship  registry — that  a  small 
vessel  had  sailed  from  Bordeaux  some  months  before 
and  that  the  way  to  her  destined  port  would  cer- 
tainly take  her  past  the  lies  Crozets.  No  news  of 

H 


ii4  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

her  arrival  at  that  port  had  ever  been  received,  so  a 
message  was  even  then  on  its  way  to  the  nearest 
French  naval  station  ordering  immediate  relief  to 
be  sent  to  the  Crozets.  This  reply,  most  cour- 
teously worded,  added  that  there  were  caches  of  food 
on  these  islands,  which  statement  was  borne  out  by 
the  fresh  look  of  the  tin  collar.  A  curious  confirma- 
tion of  the  story  was  elicited  by  the  volunteered 
statement  of  the  captain  of  a  newly-arrived  sailing 
wool-ship,  who  said  that  in  a  certain  latitude,  which 
turned  out  to  be  within  quite  measurable  distance 
of  the  Crozets,  an  albatross  had  suddenly  appeared 
in  the  wake  of  the  ship,  feeding  greedily  on  the 
scraps  and  refuse  thrown  overboard,  and  the  crew 
observed  with  surprise  that  the  bird  followed  them 
right  into  the  open  roadstead  which  then  represented 
Freemantle  harbour.  The  date  coincided  exactly 
with  the  figures  on  the  tin.  The  bird  must  have 
found  the  collar  inconvenient  for  fishing,  and  had 
joined  the  ship  to  feed  on  these  softer  scraps,  until, 
with  the  conclusion  of  the  little  vessel's  voyage,  the 
supplies  also  ceased. 

Stories  should  always  end  well,  but  alas  !  this 
one  does  not.  We  heard  nothing  more  for  several 
weeks,  and  then  came  an  official  document,  full  of 
gratitude  for  the  prompt  action  taken,  but  stating 
that  when  the  French  gunboat  reached  the  Crozets 
it  was  found  quite  deserted.  A  similar  tin,  with 
the  same  sort  of  punched  letters  on  it,  had  been 


WESTERN   AUSTRALIA  115 

left  behind  saying  that  the  contents  of  the  cache 
had  all  been  used,  and  that,  supplies  being  ex- 
hausted, the  nauf rages  were  going  to  attempt  to 
construct  some  sort  of  a  raft  on  which  to  try  to 
reach  another  of  the  islets  where  a  fresh  supply 
of  food  might  possibly  be  found  hidden.  This 
message  had  briefly  added  that  the  poor  ship- 
wrecked sailors  were  literally  starving. 

The  most  diligent  and  careful  search  failed,  how- 
ever, to  discover  the  slightest  trace  of  the  unfortu- 
nate men  or  their  raft.  Probably  they  were  already 
so  weak  and  exhausted  when  they  started  that  they 
could  not  navigate  their  cumbrous  craft  in  the 
broken  water  and  currents  between  the  Islands.  We 
felt  very  sad  at  this  tragic  end  to  the  wonderful 
message  brought  by  the  albatross,  and  only  wished 
we  had  possessed  any  sort  of  steamer  which  could 
have  been  despatched  that  same  day  to  the  lies 
Crozets. 

AnotheY  morning — and  such  a  beautiful  morning 
too  ! — F.  looked,  in  at  the  drawing-room  window, 
and  asked  if  I  would  like  to  come  with  him  to  the 
Central  Telegraph  Office — a  very  little  way  off — 
and  hear  the  first  messages  over  a  line  stretching 
many  hundreds  of  miles  away  to  the  far  North- 
west of  the  colony.  Of  course,  I  was  only  too 
delighted,  especially  as  I  had  "  assisted "  at 
the  driving  in  of  the  very  first  pole  of  that 
same  telegraph  line  two  or  three  years  before 


n6  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

at    Gerald  ton,   some  three  hundred  miles  up  the 
coast. 

I  was  much  amazed  at  the  wonderful  familiarity 
of  the  operator  with  his  machine.  How  he  seemed 
hardly  to  pause  in  what  he  was  himself  saying,  to 
remark,  "  They  are  very  pleased  to  hear  your  Excel- 
lency is  here,  and  wish  me  to  say,"  and  then  would 
come  a  message  glibly  disentangled  from  a  rapid 
succession  of  incoherent  little  clicks  and  taps. 
Presently  came  a  longer  and  more  consecutive  series 
of  pecks  and  clicks,  to  which  the  operator  conde- 
scended to  listen  carefully,  and  even  to  jot  down  a 
pencilled  word  now  and  then.  This  turned  out 
to  be  a  communication  from  the  sergeant  of  police 
in  charge  of  the  little  group  of  white  men  up  in  that 
distant  spot,  where  no  European  foot  had  ever 
trodden  before,  to  the  effect  that  he  had  lately 
come  across  a  native  tribe  who  had  an  English- 
woman with  them.  The  sergeant  went  on  to  say 
that  this  woman  had  been  wrecked  twenty  years 
before,  somewhere  on  that  North-west  coast,  and 
that  she  and  her  baby-boy — the  only  survivors  of 
the  disaster — had  ever  since  lived  with  this  tribe. 
She  could  still  speak  English,  and  had  told  the 
sergeant  that  these  natives  had  always  treated  her 
with  the  utmost  kindness,  and  had  in  fact  regarded 
her  as  a  supernatural  and  sacred  guest.  Her  son 
was,  of  course,  a  grown-up  man  by  this  time,  and 
had  quite  thrown  in  his  lot  with  the  tribe.  She 


WESTERN    AUSTRALIA  117 

declared  she  had  enjoyed  excellent  health  all  those 
years,  and  had  never  suffered  from  anything  worse 
than  tender  feet.  She  hastened  to  add  that  when- 
ever her  feet  became  sore  from  travelling  barefoot, 
the  tribe  halted  until  they  had  healed. 

Naturally,  we  were  deeply  thrilled  by  this  un- 
expected romance  clicked  out  in  such  a  common- 
place way,  and  the  Governor  at  once  authorised 
the  sergeant — all  by  telegraph — to  tell  the  poor 
exile  that,  if  she  chose,  she  and  her  son  should  be 
brought  down  to  Perth  at  once,  cared  for,  and  sent 
to  any  place  she  wished,  free  of  all  expense. 

Of  course  we  had  to  wait  a  few  moments  whilst 
the  sergeant  explained  this  message,  though  he  had 
wisely  taken  the  precaution  of  getting  the  tribe 
to  "  come  in  "  to  the  little  station  as  soon  as  he 
knew  the  line  would  be  open.  I  spent  the  interval 
in  making  plans  for  the  poor  soul's  reception  and 
comfort,  promising  myself  to  do  all  I  could  to  make 
up  to  her  for  those  years  of  wandering  about  with 
savages.  But  my  schemes  vanished  into  thin  air 
as  soon  as  the  clicks  began  again,  for  the  woman 
steadily  refused  to  leave  the  friendly  tribe — who, 
I  may  mention,  were  listening,  the  sergeant  said, 
with  the  most  breathless  anxiety  for  her  decision. 
She  declared  that  nothing  would  induce  her  son 
to  come  away,  and  that  she  had  not  the  least  desire 
to  do  so  either.  The  Governor  tried  hard,  in  his 
own  kind  and  eloquent  words,  to  persuade  her  to 


n8  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

accept  his  offer,  or,  failing  that,  to  say  what  she 
would  like  done  for  her  own  comfort,  and  to  reward 
the  tribe  who  had  been  so  hospitable  and  good  to 
her.  She  would  accept  nothing  for  herself,  but 
hesitatingly  asked  for  more  blankets  and  a  little 
extra  flour  and  "  baccy  "  for  the  tribe.  This  was 
promised  willingly,  and  some  tea  was  to  be  added. 

My  contribution  to  the  conversation  was  to  de- 
mand a  personal  description  of  the  woman  from  the 
sergeant,  but  I  cannot  say  that  I  gathered  much 
idea  of  her  appearance  from  his  halting  and  some- 
what laboured  word-portrait.  Apparently  she  was 
not  beautiful ;  no  wonder,  poor  soul ! — tanned  as 
to  skin,  and  bleached  as  to  hair,  by  exposure  to 
weather.  Only  her  blue  eyes  and  differing  features 
showed  her  English  origin.  She  had  kept  no  count 
of  time,  nothing  but  the  boy's  growth  told  that 
many  years  must  have  passed. 

"  They  look  upon  her  as  a  sort  of  Queen,"  the 
sergeant  declared,  "  and  don't  want  her  to  leave 
them."  It  was  very  tantalising,  and  I  felt  quite 
injured  and  hurt  at  the  collapse  of  all  my  plans 
for  restoring  such  an  involuntary  prodigal  daughter 
to  her  relatives. 

I  fear  I  became  rather  troublesome  after  this 
episode,  and  got  into  a  way  of  continually  demand- 
ing if  there  were  nothing  else  interesting  going  on 
up  in  that  distant  region  ;  but,  except  the  sad  and 
too  frequent  report  of  interrupted  communication, 


WESTERN   AUSTRALIA  119 

which  was  nearly  always  found  to  mean  a  burned- 
down  telegraph  pole,  there  was  nothing  more  heard 
of  the  tribe  or  its  guest  whilst  we  remained  in  the 
colony.  But  these  burned  telegraph  poles  held  a 
tragedy  of  their  own  ;  for  they  were  always  caused 
by  a  fire  lighted  at  their  base  as  the  very  last  re- 
source of  a  starved  and  dying  traveller  to  attract 
attention.  I  fear  I  was  just  as  grieved  when,  as 
sometimes  happened,  it  turned  out  to  be  a  convict, 
who  was  making  a  desperate  and  fruitless  effort  to 
escape,  as  when  it  was  an  explorer  who  perished. 
The  routine  followed  was  that,  as  soon  as  the  line 
became  interrupted,  two  workmen  with  tools  and 
two  native  police  officers  would  set  out  from  the 
hut,  one  of  each  going  along  the  line  in  opposite 
directions  until  the  "  fault "  was  found.  As  the 
huts  or  stations  were  at  least  a  hundred  and  fifty 
miles  apart,  and  the  dry  burning  desert  heat  made 
travelling  slow  work,  this  was  often  an  affair  of 
days,  and  I  was  assured  that  the  relieving  party 
never  yet  found  the  unhappy  traveller  alive.  All 
this  is  now  quite  a  thing  of  the  dark  and  distant 
ages,  for  a  railway  probably  now  runs  over  those 
very  same  sand  plains,  and  no  doubt  Pullman 
cars  will  be  a  luxury  of  the  near  future. 

I  wonder,  however,  if  the  natives  of  those  North- 
west districts  still  contrive,  from  time  to  time,  to 
possess  themselves  of  the  insulators,  which  they 
fashion  with  their  flint  tools  into  admirable  spear- 


120  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

heads.  Also  if  they  have  at  all  grasped  the  mean- 
ing of  those  same  telegraph  poles.  In  the  days  I 
speak  of,  they  considered  the  white  man  "  too  much 
fool-um,"  as  the  kangaroos  could  easily  get  under 
this  high  fence,  which  was  supposed  to  have  been 
put  up  to  keep  them  from  trespassing  ! 

It  must  have  been  towards  the  end  of  1889  that 
men  began  to  hope  the  statement  of  an  eminent 
geologist,  made  years  before,  was  going  to  prove 
true,  and  that  "  the  root  of  the  great  gold-bearing 
tree  would  be  found  in  Western  Australia."  Re- 
ports of  gold,  more  or  less  wild,  came  in  from  distant 
quarters,  and  although  it  was  most  desirable  to 
help  and  encourage  explorers,  there  was  great  danger 
of  anything  like  a  "  rush  "  towards  those  arid  and 
waterless  districts  from  which  the  best  and  most 
reliable  news  came. 

One  of  the  many  "  gold  "  stories  which  reached 
us  just  then  amused  me  much  at  the  time,  though 
doubtless  it  has  settled  into  being  regarded  as  a 
very  old  joke  by  now.  Still  it  is  none  the  less 
true. 

A  man  came  in  to  a  very  outlying  and  distant 
station  with  a  small  nugget,  which  he  said  he  had 
picked  up,  thinking  it  was  a  stone,  to  throw  at  a 
crow,  and  finding  it  unusually  heavy,  examined  it, 
and  lo  !  it  was  pure  gold.  Naturally  there  was 
great  excitement  at  this  news,  and  the  official  in 
charge  of  the  district  rushed  to  the  telegraph  office 


WESTERN   AUSTRALIA  121 

and  wired  to  the  head  of  his  department,  some 
five  hundred  miles  away  in  Perth  :  "  Man  here 
picked  up  stone  to  throw  at  crow."  He  thought 
this  would  tell  the  whole  story,  but  apparently  it 
did  not,  for  the  answer  returned  was  :  "  And  what 
became  of  the  crow  ?  " 

Diggers  used  to  go  up  the  coast,  as  far  as  they 
could,  in  the  small  mail  steamers,  and  then  strike 
across  the  desert,  often  on  foot,  pushing  their  tools 
and  food  before  them  in  a  wheelbarrow.  Naturally, 
they  could  neither  travel  far  nor  fast  in  this  fashion, 
and  there  was  always  the  water  difficulty  to  be  dealt 
with.  Still  a  man  will  do  and  bear  a  great  deal 
when  golden  nuggets  dangle  before  his  eyes,  and 
some  sturdy  bushmen  actually  did  manage  to  reach 
the  outskirts  of  the  great  gold  region.  The  worst 
of  it  was  that  under  these  circumstances  no  one 
could  remain  long,  even  if  he  struck  gold  ;  for  there 
was  no  food  to  be  had  except  what  they  took  with 
them.  As  is  generally  the  case  in  everything,  one 
did  not  hear  much  of  the  failures  ;  but  every  now 
and  then  a  lucky  man  with  a  few  ounces  of  gold  in 
his  possession  found  his  way  back  to  Perth.  Nearly 
all  who  returned  brought  fragments  of  quartz  to 
be  assayed,  and  every  day  the  hope  grew  which 
has  since  been  so  abundantly  justified. 

It  happened  now  and  then  that  a  little  party  of 
diggers  who  had  been  helped  to  make  a  start  would 
ask  to  see  me  before  they  set  out,  not  wanting  any- 


122  COLONIAL  MEMORIES 

thing  except  to  say  good-bye,  and  to  receive  my 
good  wishes  for  their  success.  Poor  fellows !  I 
often  asked  about  them,  but  could  seldom  trace 
their  career  after  a  short  while.  Once  I  received, 
months  after  one  of  those  farewell  visits,  a  little 
packet  of  tiny  gold  nuggets,  about  an  ounce  in  all, 
wrapped  in  very  dirty  newspaper,  with  a  few  words 
to  say  they  were  the  first  my  poor  friends  had 
found.  I  could  not  even  make  out  how  the  package 
had  reached  me,  and  although  I  tried  to  get  a  letter 
of  thanks  returned  to  the  sender,  I  very  much  doubt 
if  he  ever  received  it. 

However,  one  day  a  message  came  out  to  me 
from  the  Governor's  office  to  say  H.  E.  had  been 
hearing  a  very  interesting  story,  and  would  I  like 
to  hear  it  too  ?  Nothing  would  please  me  better, 
and  in  a  few  minutes  the  teller  of  the  story  was 
standing  in  my  morning  room,  with  a  large  and 
heavy  lump,  looking  like  a  dirty  stone,  held  out 
for  my  inspection.  I  wish  I  could  give  the  whole 
story  in  his  own  simple  and  picturesque  words,  but 
alas  !  I  cannot  remember  them  all  accurately.  Too 
many  waves  and  storms  of  sorrow  have  gone  over 
my  head  since  those  bright  and  happy  days,  and 
time  and  tears  have  dimmed  many  details.  How- 
ever, I  distinctly  remember  having  been  much  struck 
by  the  grave  simplicity  of  my  visitor's  manner,  and 
I  also  noticed  that,  although  it  was  one  of  our 
scorching  summer  days,  with  a  hot  wind  blowing, 


WESTERN   AUSTRALIA  123 

he  was  arrayed  in  a  brand-new  suit  of  thick  cloth, 
which  he  could  well  have  worn  at  the  North  Pole  ! 
He  seemed  quite  awed  by  his  good  fortune,  and 
continually  said  how  undeserved  it  was.  But  I 
suppose  this  must  have  been  his  modesty,  for  he 
certainly  appeared  to  have  gone  through  his  fair 
share  of  hardships.  He  had  been  one  of  what  the 
diggers  called  "  the  barrow  men,"  and  had  held  on 
almost  too  long  after  his  scanty  supplies  had  run 
short. 

The  little  party  to  which  he  belonged  had  been 
singularly  unfortunate  ;  for,  although  they  found 
here  and  there  a  promise  of  gold,  nothing  payable 
had  been  struck.  At  last  the  end  came.  This  man 
had  reached  the  very  last  of  his  resources  without 
finding  a  speck  of  gold,  and  although  men  in  such 
extremity  are  always  kind  and  helpful  to  each 
other,  he  could  not  expect  any  one  to  share  such 
fast  dwindling  stores  with  him.  There  was  nothing 
for  it,  therefore,  but  to  turn  back  on  the  morrow, 
whilst  a  mouthful  of  food  was  still  left,  and  to  re- 
trace his  steps,  as  best  he  might,  to  the  nearest 
port.  He  dwelt,  with  a  good  deal  of  rough  pathos, 
on  the  despair  of  that  last  day's  fruitless  work 
which  left  him  too  weak  and  exhausted  to  carry 
his  heavy  tools  back  to  the  spot  they  called  "  camp." 
So  he  just  flung  them  down,  and  as  he  said 
"  staggered  "  over  the  two  or  three  miles  of  scrub- 
covered  desert,  guided  by  the  smoke  of  the  camp- 


i24  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

fire.  Next  morning  early,  after  a  great  deal  of 
sleep  and  very  little  food,  he  braced  himself  up  to 
go  back  and  fetch  his  tools,  though  he  carefully 
explained  that  he  would  not  have  taken  the  trouble 
to  do  this  if  he  had  not  felt  that  his  pick  and  barrow 
were  about  his  only  possessions,  and  might  fetch 
the  price  of  a  meal  or  two  when  it  came  to  the  last. 

I  have  often  wondered  since  if  the  impression  of 
the  Divine  mercy  and  goodness,  which  was  so 
strong  in  that  man's  mind  just  then,  has  ever  worn 
off.  He  dwelt  with  self -accusing  horror  on  how  he 
had  railed  at  his  luck,  at  Fate,  at  everything, 
as  he  stumbled  back  that  hot  morning  over  his 
tracks  of  the  day  before.  The  way  seemed  twice 
as  long,  for,  as  he  said,  "  his  heart  was  too  heavy 
to  carry."  At  last  he  saw  his  barrow  and  pick 
standing  up  on  the  flat  plain  a  little  way  off,  and 
was  wearily  dragging  on  towards  them,  when  he 
caught  his  toe  against  a  stone  deeply  imbedded  in 
the  sand,  and  fell  down.  His  voice  sank  to  a  sort 
of  awestruck  whisper,  as  if  he  were  almost  at  Con- 
fession, as  he  said,  "  Well,  ma'am,  if  you'd  believe 
me,  I  cursed  awful,  I  felt  as  if  it  was  too  hard 
altogether  to  bear.  To  think  that  I  should  go  and 
nearly  break  my  toe  against  the  only  stone  in  the 
district,  and  with  all  those  miles  to  travel  back. 
So  I  lay  there  like  Job's  friend  and  cursed  God 
and  wanted  to  die.  After  a  bit  I  felt  like  a  pas- 
sionate child  who  kicks  and  breaks  the  thing  which 


WESTERN   AUSTRALIA  125 

has  hurt  him,  and  I  had  to  beat  that  stone  before 
I  could  be  at  all  quiet.  But  it  was  too  firm  in 
the  sand  for  my  hands  to  get  it  up,  so  in  my  rage 
I  set  off  quite  briskly  for  the  pick  to  break  up  that 
stone,  if  it  took  all  my  strength.  It  was  pretty 
deep-set  in  the  ground,  I  assure  you,  ma'am  ;  but 
at  last  I  got  it  up,  and  here  it  is — solid  gold  and 
nearly  as  big  as  a  baby's  head.  Now,  ma'am, 
I  ask  you,  did  I  deserve  this  ?  " 

He  almost  banged  the  rather  dirty-looking  lump 
down  on  the  table  before  me  as  he  spoke,  and  it 
certainly  was  a  wonderful  sight,  and  a  still  more 
wonderful  weight.  He  told  me  he  had  searched 
about  the  neighbourhood  of  that  nugget  all  day, 
but  there  was  not  the  faintest  trace  of  any  more 
gold.  So,  as  he  had  no  time  to  lose  on  account  of 
the  shortness  of  the  food  and  water-supply,  he 
just  started  back  to  the  coast,  which  he  reached 
quite  safely,  and  came  straight  down  to  Perth  in 
the  first  steamer.  The  principal  bank  had  ad- 
vanced him  £800  on  his  nugget,  but  it  would 
probably  prove  to  be  worth  twice  as  much.  I 
asked  him  what  he  was  going  to  do,  and  was  rather 
sorry  to  hear  that  he  intended  to  go  back  to  England 
at  once,  and  set  up  a  shop  or  a  farm — I  forget 
which — among  his  own  people.  Of  course,  it  was 
not  for  me  to  dissuade  him,  but  I  felt  it  was  a 
pity  to  lose  such  a  good  sort  of  man  out  of  the 
colony,  for  he  was  not  spending  his  money  in 


126  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

champagne  and  card-playing,  as  all  the  very  few 
successful  gold-finders  did  in  those  first  early  days. 
I  believe  the  purchase  of  that  one  suit  of  winter 
clothing  in  which  to  come  and  see  the  Governor  had 
been  his  only  extravagance. 

That  was  the  delightful  part  of  those  patriarchal 
times — only  fifteen  or  twenty  years  ago,  remember 
— that  all  the  joys  and  sorrows  used  to  find  their 
way  to  Government  House.  I  always  tried  to  divide 
the  work,  telling  our  dear  colonial  friends  that 
when  they  were  prosperous  and  happy  they  were 
the  Governor's  business,  but  when  they  were  sick 
or  sorrowful  or  in  trouble  they  belonged  to  my 
department ;  and  thus  we  both  found  plenty  to  do, 
and  were  able  to  get  very  much  inside,  as  it  were, 
the  lives  of  those  among  whom  our  lot  was  cast 
for  more  than  seven  busy,  happy  years. 


IX 
WESTERN    AUSTRALIA— Continued 

THERE  had  never  been  a  bushranger  in  Western 
Australia  before  Bill  (I  forget  his  "  outside  "  name) 
appeared  on  the  scene,  and  I  don't  suppose  there 
will  ever  be  another.  If  any  one  may  be  said  to 
have  drifted — indeed,  almost  to  have  been  forced — 
by  circumstances  into  a  path  of  crime  and  peril, 
it  was  this  same  unlucky  Bill.  Until  his  troubles 
came  he  was  always  regarded  as  rather  a  fine 
specimen  of  a  colonial  youth.  Tall,  strong,  and 
good-looking,  apt  at  all  manly  sports  and  exercises, 
he  was  adored  by  the  extremely  respectable  family 
to  which  he  belonged,  and  who  brought  him  up 
as  well  as  they  could.  For  Master  Bill  must  always 
have  been  a  difficult  youth  to  manage,  and  from 
his  tenderest  years  had  invariably  been  a  law  unto 
himself. 

At  school  he  had  formed  a  strong  friendship 
with  another  lad  of  his  own  age,  who  was  exactly 
opposite  to  him  in  character,  tastes,  and  pursuits, 
but  nevertheless  they  were  inseparable  "mates," 

and  all  Bill's  people  hoped  that  the  influence  of 

127 


128  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

this  very  quiet,  sedate  youth  would  in  time  tame 
Bill's  wild  and  lawless  nature.  As  the  boys  grew 
into  their  teens  it  became  a  question  of  choosing 
a  career,  and  the  quiet  boy  always  said  he  wanted 
to  get  into  the  police.  That  was  his  great  ambition, 
and  a  more  promising  recruit  could  not  be  desired. 
It  came  out  afterwards  that  when  the  lads  discussed 
this  subject  the  embryo  policeman  often  observed  : 
"  If  you  don't  look  out,  Bill,  and  alter  your  ways, 
I'll  be  always  having  to  arrest  you."  Bill  laughed 
this  suggestion  to  scorn,  not  that  he  had  any  in- 
tention of  amending  his  ways,  but  he  could  not 
believe  that  any  one  who  knew  his  great  physical 
strength  and  utter  recklessness  would  dare  to  lay 
a  hand  on  him.  The  ways  he  was  advised  to  amend 
consisted  chiefly  in  worrying  the  neighbours,  with 
whom  he  lived  in  constant  feud  and  Border  war- 
fare. No  old  lady's  cat  within  a  radius  of  five 
miles  was  safe  from  him,  and  he  chased  the  goats 
and  harried  the  poultry,  and  generally  made  him- 
self a  first-class  nuisance  all  round. 

The  strange  thing  was  that,  in  spite  of  this  strong 
instinct  of  tormenting,  Bill  was  universally  acknow- 
ledged to  be  a  splendid  "  bushman  " — that  is,  one 
familiar  with  all  the  signs  and  common  objects  of 
the  forests.  He  would  have  made  an  ideal  explorer, 
and  could  have  lived  in  the  Bush  in  plenty  and 
comfort  under  conditions  in  which  any  one  else 
would  have  starved  or  died  of  thirst.  It  seemed 


WESTERN   AUSTRALIA  129 

odd  to  find  in  the  same  youth  this  passionate  love 
of  Nature  and  familiarity  with  her  every  wild  bird 
or  beast,  and  a  certain  amount  of  cruelty  and 
callousness. 

Time  passed  on,  and  one  of  the  boys  at  least  got 
his  heart's  desire  and  was  enrolled  in  the  very  fine 
police  force  of  Freeman  tie.  Bill  could  not  be  in- 
duced to  settle  to  any  profession,  though  his  know- 
ledge of  bush-craft  and  his  superb  powers  of 
endurance  would  have  insured  him  plenty  of  well- 
paid  employment  as  an  explorer  or  pioneer  in  the 
unknown  parts  which  were  just  beginning  to  be 
opened  up  in  our  day,  for  the  first  faint  whispers 
of  the  magic  word  "  gold  "  were  being  brought  to 
the  ears  of  the  Government. 

Just  about  this  time  one  of  the  neighbours  im- 
ported a  special  breed  of  fowls,  which  Bill  forthwith 
proceeded  to  torment  in  his  leisure  moments.  The 
owner  of  the  unhappy  poultry  bore  Bill's  worrying 
with  patience  and  good  nature  for  some  little  time, 
but  at  last  assured  him  that  he  would  take  out  a 
summons  against  him  if  he  persisted  in  harrying 
his  sitting  hens.  Bill's  answer  to  this  was  buying 
a  revolver  and  announcing  that  he  would  certainly 
shoot  any  one  who  attempted  to  arrest  him.  Of 
course,  no  one  believed  this  threat,  and  in  due  time 
the  summons  was  taken  out,  and  the  task  of  making 
the  arrest  devolved  upon  his  friend  and  school- 
mate, who  warned  him  privately  that  he  would 

I 


130  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

certainly  do  his  duty  and  that  he  need  not  hope 
to  escape.  Bill  fled  a  few  miles  off  and  kept  out  of 
the  way  for  a  little  while.  No  one  wanted  to  be 
hard  on  the  youth  for  the  sake  of  his  very  respect- 
able family,  and  a  good  deal  of  sympathy  was 
expressed  for  them  ;  also,  every  one  hoped  and  be- 
lieved that  this  little  fracas  would  sober  Master  Bill 
down,  and  that  he  might  yet  become  a  valuable 
member  of  the  community. 

However,  one  Sunday  evening,  just  at  dusk,  Bill 
was  hanging  about  the  poultry  yard  with  evil  in- 
tent, when  he  suddenly  perceived  his  friend  in 
uniform  and  on  duty  the  other  side  of  a  low  hedge. 
The  owner  of  the  fowls  had  asked  for  a  constable 
to  watch  his  place,  and,  as  ill  luck  would  have  it, 
Bill's  friend  was  sent.  The  two  boys  looked  at  each 
other  for  a  moment  across  the  hedge,  and  then  the 
policeman  said  : — 

"  Now,  Bill,  you  had  better  come  along  quietly 
with  me  ;  there's  a  warrant  out  against  you,  and 
I've  got  to  take  you  to  the  police  station." 

"  If  you  come  one  step  nearer,  I'll  shoot  you 
dead,"  answered  Bill. 

"  That's  all  nonsense,  you  know,"  the  poor  young 
constable  replied,  and  began  pushing  the  hedge 
aside  to  get  through  it.  Bill  drew  his  revolver  and 
shot  the  friend  and  playmate  of  his  whole  life  dead 
on  the  spot.  He  then  rushed  back  to  his  own  place, 
and,  hastily  collecting  some  food  and  cartridges, 


WESTERN   AUSTRALIA  131 

was  off  and  away  into  the  heart  of  the  nearest 
"  bush "  or  forest,  the  fringe  of  which  almost 
touched  even  the  principal  towns  in  those  days. 

It  is  hardly  possible  to  imagine  the  state  of  ex- 
citement into  which  this  crime  threw  the  primitive 
little  community.  Murders  were  comparatively  rare, 
and  I  was  told  that  they  were  almost  always  com- 
mitted by  old  "  lags,"  men  who  had  begun  as  con- 
victs perhaps  thirty-five  or  forty  years  before,  and 
had  generally  only  been  let  out  a  short  time  before 
on  a  ticket-of-leave.  But  this  catastrophe  was 
quite  a  fresh  departure,  and  called  forth  almost  as 
much  sympathy  for  the  relatives  of  the  wretched 
Bill  as  for  those  of  his  victim.  The  native  trackers 
set  to  work  at  once  and  picked  up  Bill's  trail  with- 
out any  difficulty,  but  the  thing  was  to  catch  him. 
No  Will-o'-the-wisp  could  have  been  more  elusive, 
and  he  led  the  best  trackers  and  the  most  wary 
constables  a  regular  dance  over  hills  and  valleys, 
through  dense  bush  and  scrub-covered  sand,  day 
after  day.  News  would  come  of  the  police  being 
hot  on  his  tracks  thirty  miles  off,  and  that  same 
night  a  store  in  Freeman  tie  would  be  broken  into, 
and  two  or  three  of  its  best  guns,  with  suitable 
cartridges,  would  be  missing.  As  time  went  on  the 
various  larders  in  Perth  were  visited  in  the  same 
unexpected  manner,  and  emptied  of  their  contents. 
Bill  never  took  anything  except  ammunition,  food, 
and  tobacco,  but  whenever  the  police  came  up  with 


132  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

his  camping-ground — often  to  find  the  fire  still 
smouldering — they  always  found  several  newspapers 
of  the  latest  dates  giving  particulars  of  where  he 
was  supposed  to  be. 

In  the  course  of  the  many  weeks — nine  I  think — 
that  this  chase  went  on,  the  police  often  got  near 
enough  to  be  shot  at.  One  poor  constable  was 
badly  wounded  in  the  throat,  so  that  he  could  never 
speak  above  a  whisper  again,  and  another  was  shot 
dead.  But  Bill  was  never  to  be  seen.  Sometimes 
they  came  on  his  "  billy  "  or  pannikin  of  tea,  stand- 
ing by  the  fire,  and  another  time  he  must  just  have 
flung  away  his  pipe  lest  its  smell  should  betray  him. 
One  is  lost  in  amazement  at  his  powers  of  endur- 
ance, for  he  could  have  had  no  actual  sleep  all  that 
weary  while.  The  general  plan  of  campaign  was 
to  keep  him  always  moving,  so  as  to  tire  him  out. 
What  strength  must  he  have  possessed  to  do  without 
sleep  all  that  time,  and  to  cover  such  fabulous  dis- 
tances day  after  day.  The  police  themselves,  or 
rather  their  horses,  and  even  the  trackers,  got  quite 
knocked  up,  in  spite  of  a  regularly  organised  system 
of  relief ;  so  what  must  it  have  been  for  the  hunted 
boy,  who  could  never  have  had  any  rest  at  all  ? 

It  was  the  year  of  the  first  Jubilee,  and  numerous 
loyal  festivities  were  taking  place  during  all  the 
time  of  Bill's  chase.  Of  course,  June  is  the  Anti- 
podean midwinter,  and  cold  and  wet  had  to  be 
reckoned  with,  as  well  as  very  bad  going  for  both 


WESTERN   AUSTRALIA  133 

horse  and  man,  and  great  fatigue  for  the  pursuers. 
Bill  apparently  thought  the  Jubilee  ought  in  some 
way  to  do  him  good,  and  he  used  to  stick  notices 
up  on  trees  with  his  terms  fully  set  forth.  One 
proposition  was  that  he  should  be  let  off  entirely 
because  of  the  Jubilee.  Another  notice  stated 
that  he  would  give  himself  up  to  me,  if  he  was 
guaranteed  a  free  pardon.  The  grim  silence  with 
which  all  these  tempting  offers  were  received  must 
have  exasperated  the  young  ruffian,  for  after  a 
time  these  bulletins  breathed  nothing  but  melo- 
dramatic threats  of  vengeance,  especially  against 
the  Governor,  and  he  began  to  attempt  to  carry 
them  out  in  many  ways. 

But  the  wickedest  idea  to  my  mind  was  the 
plan  he  evidently  formed  of  wrecking  the  special 
trains  which  were  to  convey  almost  all  the 
Perth  people  down  to  Freeman  tie,  some  thirteen 
miles  away,  in  the  middle  of  the  Jubilee  week. 
The  citizens  of  the  Port  were  determined  to  show 
themselves  every  bit  as  loyal  and  exultant  as 
we  were  in  Perth,  and  had  bidden  the  Governor 
and  the  officials,  as  well  as  the  rest  of  the  little 
society,  to  a  fine  ball  at  their  grand  new  Town 
Hall.  The  railway  authorities  and  the  police 
were  quite  alive  to  the  risks  we  should  all  run  ; 
every  precaution  was  taken,  and  especially  not  a 
whisper  was  allowed  to  creep  out  as  to  Mr.  Bill's 
murderous  intentions.  A  pilot  engine  went  first 


134  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

the  night  of  the  ball,  and  the  best  native  trackers 
were  "  laid  on  "  the  line.  Next  morning's  day- 
light showed  how  much  all  this  vigilance  and  care 
had  been  needed,  for  in  numerous  places  Bill's 
footsteps  could  b£  tracked  down  to  the  rails,  and 
large  branches  of  trees,  rocks,  and  other  handy 
impediments  lay  within  a  foot  of  the  line,  and  he 
must  have  been  hunted  off  when  quite1  close  many 
times  during  that  cold  wet  night.  I  believe  I  was 
the  only  woman  in  the  long  special  train  who  knew 
of  Mr.  Bill's  intentions,  and  I  confess  I  found  it 
somewhat  difficult  to  conceal  a  tendency  to  pre- 
occupation and  to  start  at  slight  sounds.  How- 
ever, it  would  have  quite  spoiled  the  Freemantle 
ball  if  the  least  breath  of  the  risk  to  the  guests 
from  Perth  had  got  abroad,  so  all  the  men  bore 
themselves  as  Englishmen  do — quietly  and  serenely 
— and  I  had  to  hide  my  nervousne'ss  for  very 
shame's  sake.  Especially  when  we  were  coming 
back,  quite  late,  and  I  saw  how  tired  and  sleepy 
every  one  was,  the  thought  would  cross  my  mind 
of  wonder  if  the  poor  watchers  on  the  outside 
were  as  tired  as  we  were,  and  so,  perhaps,  not 
quite  so  much  on  the  alert.  My  private  fears 
proved  groundless,  happily,  but  I  can  never  forget 
the  relief  of  finding  myself  (and  my  far  dearer  self) 
safe  in  our  beautiful  home  again  that  night.  I 
had  felt  so  wretched  at  the  ball  when  I  looked  at 
my  numerous  pet  girl  friends  dancing  blithely  away, 


WESTERN   AUSTRALIA  135 

and  thought  of  the  dangers  which  might  easily 
beset  their  homeward  road. 

By  this  time  every  one,  especially  those  whose 
larders  had  been  raided,  took  the  keenest  interest 
in  Master  Bill's  capture,  and  the  local  papers  were 
full  of  his  hairbreadth  escapes.  I  remember  a 
paragraph  which  interested  me  very  much  stated 
that  once,  when,  "  from  information  received," 
the  police  had  drawn  quite  a  cordon  round  his  lair 
and  were  creeping  stealthily  towards  it,  a  bird 
suddenly  uttered  a  piercing  shrill  note  ;  and  one 
of  the  trackers,  learned  in  bush-lore,  remarked 
that  their  chance  of  catching  him  then  was  gone, 
for  that  bird  would  have  warned  him,  as  it  never 
uttered  its  cry  except  when  it  saw  a  stranger 
suddenly.  I  may  mention  here  that  I  never  rested 
until  I  heard  that  bird's  note  myself,  and  I  spent 
the  next  summer  in  organising  bush  picnics,  and 
then  wandering  away  as  far  as  I  dared  in  order  to 
alarm  the  bird  by  a  sudden  appearance.  At  last 
one  day,  when  I  had  very  nearly  succeeded  in 
losing  myself  in  the  bush,  a  sudden  shrill  note 
terrified  me  out  of  my  life.  If  the  bird  was 
frightened  so  was  I,  for  it  was  a  most  piercing  cry. 

At  last  the  end  came ;  at  earliest  dawn  one 
morning  Bill,  resting  on  a  log  in  the  bush  without 
even  a  fire  to  betray  him,  opened  his  eyes  to  the 
sound  of  a  command  to  "  put  up  his  hands,"  and 
saw  half-a-dozen  carbines  levelled  straight  at  him 


136  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

a  few  yards  off.  He  showe'd  fight  to  the  last,  and 
managed  before  holding  up  his  hands  to  fire  a  shot 
at  the  approaching  constables,  wounding  one  of 
them  in  the  leg.  The  men  rushed  in,  however, 
and  he  was  soon  overcome  and  handcuffed  and 
brought  into  Perth.  But  the  most  curious  part 
of  the  story  lies  in  the  universal  sympathy  and, 
indeed,  admiration  immediately  shown  by  the 
whole  of  our  very  peaceable  and  orderly  little 
community  for  this  youth.  Of  course,  the  officials 
did  not  share  this  strange  sentimentality,  for  they 
regarded  Master  Bill  and  his  exploits  from  a  very 
different  point  of  view,  and  I  used  really  to  feel 
quite  angry,  especially  with  my  female  friends, 
who  often  asked  me  if  I  was  not  "  very  sorry  "  for 
the  culprit  ?  My  sympathies,  I  confessed,  were 
more  with  the  families  of  his  victims,  especially 
the  poor  policeman  with  his  mangled  throat,  whom 
I  had  often  seen  in  my  weekly  visits  to  the  hospital. 
When  I  expressed  surprise  at  the  interest  all  the 
girls  in  the  place  took  in  the  young  ruffian,  the 
answer  always  was  :  "Oh,  but  he  is  so  brave." 
It  appeared  to  me  the  bravery  lay  with  his 
captors  ! 

He  was  duly  tried,  but  the  jury  did  not  convict 
him  of  premeditated  murder,  and  in  face  of  the 
verdict  he'  could  only  be  sentenced  to  imprisonment 
for  some  years.  Master  Bill's  captivity  did  not 
last  very  long  on  that  occasion,  for  he  watched  his 


WESTERN   AUSTRALIA  137 

opportunity,  sprang  upon  the  warder  one  day 
knocking  him  senseless,  scrambled  over  the  wall 
of  the  exercise  ground,  near  which  chanced  to  be 
a  pile  of  stones  for  breaking,  and  so  got  away.  Then 
the  pendulum  of  Public  Opinion — that  strange  and 
unreliable  factor  in  human  affairs — swung  to  the 
other  side,  and  a  violent  outcry  arose,  and  Bill's 
immediate  death  was  the  least  of  its  demands. 
He  was  caught  without  much  difficulty  that  time, 
however,  and  it  was  curious  to  find  no  one  taking 
the  least  interest  in  his  second  trial,  which  resulted 
in  a  lengthy  and  rigorous  imprisonment.  Poor 
wretch  !  I  believe  even  I  ended  by  being  "  sorry  " 
for  him  and  his  wasted  life,  with  all  its  splendid 
possibilities. 

Another  tragedy  was  enacted  in  the  North-west 
not  long  after  Bill's  adventures  had  ended  ;  and 
yet,  terrible  as  this  incident  was,  one  could  hardly 
help  an  ill-regulated  smile. 

I  wonder  how  many  people  realise  that  Western 
Australia  holds  a  million  square  miles  within  its 
borders.  True,  most  of  it  is,  as  Anthony  Trollope 
said,  only  fit  to  run  through  an  hour-glass,  being 
of  the  sandiest  sort  of  sand.  But  then,  again,  all 
that  that  sand  requires  to  make  it  "  blossom  like 
a  rose  "  is  water.  Given  an  abundant  supply  of 
water,  and  all  those  miles  of  desert  will  grow  any- 
thing. You  have  only  got  to  see  the  sand-plains 
as  they  are  called,  before  the  winter  rains  and  after 


138  COLONIAL  MEMORIES 

them.  These  sand-plains  are  just  a  sort  of  tongue 
or  strip  of  the  great  Sahara  in  the  middle  of  the 
Island  Continent  which  runs  down — some  seventy 
miles  wide — towards  the  sea-shore  three  or  four 
hundred  miles  to  the  north-west  of  Perth. 

The  rumours  of  gold  which  had  begun  to  fill  the 
air  during  our  day,  necessitated  first,  telegraph 
stations,  and  then  the  establishment  of  outlying 
posts  of  civilisation ;  the  nucleus  of  what  are 
already  turned  or  turning  into  flourishing  towns. 
I  have  always  declared  that  when  there  were'  three 
white  men  in  any  of  these  distant  spots,  the  first 
thing  they  started  was  a  race-meeting,  with  a 
Governor's  Cup  or  Purse  (value  about  £5),  and 
then  next  would  come  a  Rifle  Association,  with  a 
Literary  Institute  to  follow,  to  all  of  which  H.E. 
would  be  invited  to  subscribe.  However,  the  out- 
lying settlement  I  speak  of  had  not  attained  to 
these  luxuries,  for  it  consisted  of  only  one  white 
man.  He  combined  the  offices  of  Warden  and 
Magistrate  and  Doctor,  and  several  other  duties 
as  well ;  but  he  must  have  led  a  truly  Robinson 
Crusoe  sort  of  life,  poor  man.  I  should  mention 
that  these  settlements  had  always  to  be  close  to 
the  sea-shore  in  order  to  keep  in  touch,  by  means 
of  the  little  coasting  steamers,  with  a  base  of  supply. 
This  gentleman — for  he  was  a  man  of  unblemished 
character  as  well  as  of  education  and  refinement — 
had  not  a  creature  to  speak  to  beyond  a  few  half- 


WESTERN   AUSTRALIA  139 

tamed  natives,  except  when  the  steamer  touched — 
once  a  month,  I  believe — at  his  little  port.  He  was 
a  splendid  shot  and  a  keen  sportsman,  but  there  was 
not  much  scope  for  his  "  gunning  "  talents,  and  sea- 
gull shooting  formed  one  of  his  few  amusements. 

One  fine  evening  he  was  lazily  floating  in  a  light 
canoe  about  the  bay,  with  a  native  to  paddle, 
whilst  he  looked  out  for  a  difficult  shot,  when  the 
man  suddenly  pointed  to  an  object  on  a  rock  some 
fifty  yards  from  the  shore  which  he  announced 
was  a  "  big-fellow  "  gull.  It  did  look  rather  large 
for  a  gull,  but  the  sportsman  thought  it  might  be 
some  other  sort  of  strange  sea-bird,  and,  after  care- 
fully adjusting  the  sight  of  the  rifle  and  taking 
most  accurate  aim,  he  fired.  To  his  horror  the 
crouching  object  gave  a  sort  of  upward  leap  and 

then  fell  flat.  Poor  Mr.  seized  the  oar  and 

paddled  with  all  speed  to  the  spot,  to  find  a  white 
man  lying  dead  with  his  bullet  through  his  heart. 

One  can  hardly  realise  the  dismay  of  the  in- 
voluntary murderer,  for  anything  so  unexpected  as 
the  presence  of  any  human  being  in  that  lonely 
spot  with  darkness  coming  on,  and  a  difficult 
path,  from  rock  to  rock,  to  be  retraced  to  the 
shore,  cannot  be  imagined.  There  was  nothing 
for  it  but  to  take  the  body  into  the  boat  and  return 
home.  The  most  careful  inquiries  carried  on  for 
months  failed  to  elicit  the  slightest  information 
as  to  that  lonely  victim's  identity.  He  had  not  a 


140  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 


mark  of  any  sort  on  his  clothing,  nor  a  scrap  of 
paper  about  him,  which  could  throw  the  least 
light  on  his  name  or  history.  No  one  knew  that 
another  white  man  was  in  the  district  at  all.  If 
he  had  dropped  from  the  sky  on  to  that  rock  he 
could  not  have  been  more  un traceable.  It  was 
all  tragic  enough,  but  what  made  me  smile  in  the 
midst  of  my  horror  at  the  details  of  the  story — 
of  which  I  first  saw  the  outline  in  a  local  news- 
paper— was  to  hear  that  Mr.  had  sat  as 

coroner  on  the  body,  also  fulfilled  the  duties  of 
the  jury,  then  became  police  magistrate,  and 
finally  brought  himself  down  to  Perth  as  the  author 
of  the  "  misadventure."  Of  course,  there  was  no 
question  of  a  trial,  for  it  was  the  purest  and  most 

unlucky  accident,  regretted  by  Mr. more  than 

by  any  one  else.  No  advertisements  or  amount 
of  publicity  given  to  the  story  ever  threw  the  least 
light  on  the  poor  man's  name  or  antecedents.  Of 
course,  here  and  there  letters  came  from  individuals 
who  thought  they  saw  their  way  to  exploiter  the 
Government  and  extract  some  sort  of  money 
compensation  for  the  death  of  their  hastily  adopted 
relative,  but  as  their  story  invariably  broke  down 
at  the  very  outset — in  which  case  they  generally 
lowered  their  demands  by  next  post  from  £1000 
to  zos. — no  ray  of  light  was  ever  thrown  on  the 
mystery  of  how  that  white  man  came  to  be  sitting 
quietly  on  those  rocks  at  sunset  that  evening. 


WESTERN    AUSTRALIA  141 

I  fear  these  two  stories  have  been  rather  of 
what  an  Irish  servant  of  mine  once  called  "  a 
blood-curling "  nature,  so  I  must  end  with  a 
less  tragic  note. 

During  one  of  the  many  war  scares  in  which  we 
have  indulged  any  time  these  twenty  years,  a 
couple  of  her  Majesty's  gunboats  were  watching  the 
Australian  coast,  or  rather  watching  any  suspicious 
craft  in  those  waters.  As  is  often  the  case  along 
that  coast,  they  had  met  with  dreadful  weather, 
and  had  been  buffeted  about  and  their  progress 
greatly  delayed,  so  by  the  date  the  harbour  I  speak 
of  was  reached  ample  time  had  elapsed  for  war 
to  be  declared,  and  it  had  seemed  imminent  enough 
a  week  before,  when  the  ships  had  left  their  last 
port  of  call.  Now  this  great  bay  held  a  sort  of  inner 
harbour  which  would  have  been  very  convenient 
to  an  enemy  for  coaling,  and  where  in  fact  large 
stores  of  coal  were  kept  on  board  hulks.  So  it 
was  quite  on  the  cards  that  if  war  had  broken  out 
during  those  few  blank  days,  the  enemy  might  have 
made  a  pounce  for  the  coal,  more  especially  as  in 
those  days  the  harbour  was  absolutely  undefended. 
Now,  I  am  told,  it  bristles  with  big  guns  ! 

It  was  late  of  a  full-moon  night  when  these 
vessels  crept  quietly  into  the  outer  harbour.  All 
looked  peaceful  enough,  and  the  lamp  in  the 
lighthouse  shone  out  as  usual.  It  did  not  take 
long  to  decide  that  a  small  armed  party  had  better 


142  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

pay  a  surprise  visit  to  that  lighthouse  and  learn 
what  had  taken  place  during  the  last  week  or  so 
in  its  neighbourhood.  The  young  officer  who  told 
me  the  story  described  most  amusingly  the  pre- 
cautions taken  to  avoid  any  noise,  and  to  surround 
the  lighthouse  whilst  he  and  some  others  went  in 
to  see  what  was  to  be  found  inside.  Only  one 
solitary  man  met  them,  however,  who  stood  up 
and  saluted  stolidly,  but  offered  no  shadow  of  re- 
sistance, and  all  seemed  en  regie.  The  next  thing, 
naturally,  was  to  question  this  lighthouse-keeper, 
but  to  every  demand  he  only  shook  his  head.  The 
stock  of  foreign  languages  which  had  accompanied 
that  expedition  was  but  small,  however,  and  a 
shake  of  the  head  was  the  only  answer  to  the  same 
questions  repeated  in  French  and  German.  It  was 
therefore  decided  to  take  the  silent  man  back  to 
the  gunboat  (leaving  a  couple  of  men  in  charge  of 
the  light),  and  see  whether,  as  my  informant  said, 
they  could  "  raise  any  other  lingo "  on  board. 
But  by  the  time  the  ship  was  reached  the  doctor 
and  not  the  schoolmaster  was  required,  for  the 
poor  man  was  found  to  be  in  an  epileptic  fit.  Day- 
light brought  a  little  shore-boat  alongside  with  his 
wife  in  it,  who  gave  them  all  a  very  disagreeable 
quarter  of  an  hour,  for  the  lighthouse-keeper  was 
deaf  and  dumb,  and  could  not  imagine  what  crime 
he  had  committed  to  be  taken  prisoner  in  that 
summary  fashion.  He  knew  nothing  of  wars  or 


WESTERN   AUSTRALIA  143 

rumours  of  wars,  but  tended  his  lamps  carefully, 
and  his  wife  had  been  allowed,  under  the  circum- 
stances, to  share  his  solitude.  She  had  only  left 
him  for  a  few  hours,  and  when  she  returned  at 
earliest  dawn,  and  found  her  husband  gone  and  a 
couple  of  sailors  in  charge  of  the  lighthouse,  it  did 
not  take  her  long  to  rush  down  the  hill,  get  into 

her  boat,  and  so  on  board  H.M.S. .     I  believe 

she  expected  to  find  her  spouse  loaded  with  irons, 
and  on  the  eve  of  execution,  instead  of  being  com- 
fortably asleep  in  a  bunk,  with  a  good  breakfast 
awaiting  him. 

When  the  story  was  finished  I  remarked  to  the 
teller  :  "  Quite  an  illustration  of  Talleyrand's  '  Sur- 
tout,  point  de  zele,'  isn't  it  ?  "  And  the  young 
officer  shook  his  head  sadly,  as  much  as  to  say  that 
it  was  indeed  a  wicked  world.  I  fancy  that 
"  wiggings  "  had  followed. 


X 

THE  ENROLLED   GUARD 

THE  wheel  of  Time  brought  round  many  changes 
during  our  eight  years  stay  in  Western  Australia, 
all  making  for  progress  and  improvement.  Under 
the  latter  head  the  disbandment  of  the  old  Enrolled 
Guard  must  be  classed  ;  but  it  was  really  a  sad  day 
for  the  poor  old  veterans,  and  the  Governor  deter- 
mined to  try  and  make  the  parting  as  little  painful 
as  possible.  So,  on  the  thirty-first  anniversary  of  the 
battle  of  Alma,  he  invited  all  the  non-commissioned 
officers  and  men  to  a  mid-day  dinner  at  Government 
House  in  Perth.  Our  best  efforts  could  only  collect 
fifty- three,  and  many  of  these  were  very  decrepit, 
poor  old  dears.  They  were  nearly  all  that  were 
left  of  the  soldiers  who  had  been  brought  out  to 
guard  the  convicts  fifty  years  before,  and  who, 
when  convicts  were  no  longer  sent  out  to  Western 
Australia,  were  induced  to  remain,  in  what  was  then 
a  very  distant  and  unknown  colony,  by  gifts  of  land 
and  a  small  pension.  Some  were  enrolled  as  a  Guard 
for  Government  House  and  other  public  buildings, 
and  it  was  the  remains  of  this  little  force,  gradually 
grown  too  infirm  and  decrepit  for  even  their  light 
duties,  who  had,  on  that  bright  spring  morning,  to 
give  way  to  the  smart  up-to-date  young  policemen. 


144 


WESTERN    AUSTRALIA  145 

The  step  had  been  contemplated  for  some  little 
time,  and  we  had  just  returned  in  1885  from  a  short 
visit  to  England,  during  which  there  had  been  an 
opportunity  for  my  husband  to  mention  the  subject 
to  his  Royal  Highness  the  late  Duke  of  Cambridge, 
then  Commander-in-Chief.  It  will  not  surprise 
those  who  remember  the  deep  interest  in  the  British 
soldier  always  shown  by  H.R.H.  to  hear  that  the 
Duke  listened  with  great  attention  to  all  that  was 
told  him,  asked  many  questions,  and  ended  by 
saying,  "  Well,  give  them  all  my  best  wishes,  and 
tell  them  how  glad  I  was  to  hear  about  them."  It 
is  needless  to  say  that  these  kind  and  gracious 
words  formed  the  text  as  it  were  of  the  little  parting 
address  made  by  the  Governor  after  the  parade 
which  preceded  the  dinner,  and  it  was  touching 
to  see  how  gratified  the  veterans  were.  In  spite  of 
the  old  habits  of  discipline  which  they  were  all 
dping  their  very  best  to  remember  and  act  upon, 
there  was  a  movement  and  a  murmur  all  down 
the  ranks,  and  I  strongly  suspect  there  was  some- 
thing very  like  a  tear. 

It  was,  indeed,  a  pathetic  sight,  as  all  last  things 
must  always  be,  to  see  these  old  men  in  their  quaint, 
antiquated  uniforms,  shouldering  their  obsolete 
rifles,  and  to  realise  this  was  the  very  last  time  they 
would  ever  stand  in  rank  as  soldie'rs.  On  every 
breast  gleamed  medals,  and  there  were  two  Victoria 
Crosses.  Men  stood  there  who  had  fought  both 
in  the  Crimea  and  the  Indian  Mutiny,  as  well  as 

K 


146  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

in  China,  Burmah  and  New  Zealand,  and  now  it 
was  all  over  and  done  with,  and  they  would  never 
step  out  to  the  dear  old  familiar  tunes  any  more. 

Still  we  did  our  best  to  keep  up  their  spirits, 
and  not  to  allow  the  occasion  to  become  at  all  a 
mournful  one.  Both  the  Governor  and  their  own 
Commandant  said  kind  and  cheering  words  to 
them,  and  they  were  soon  marching  off  to  the  big 
ball-room  which  had  been  given  as  military  a  char- 
acter as  possible. 

If  I  had  at  all  realised  what  the  united  ages  of 
my  guests  would  have  amounted  to,  I  think  I 
should  have  had  all  the  roast  beef  and  turkey 
passed  through  a  mincing-machine,  for  I  soon 
foresaw  difficulties  in  that  way.  We,  i.e.  my  large 
band  of  girl-friends  and  I,  waited  on  them,  and  the 
gentlemen  carved.  It  was  difficult  to  get  the  men 
to  choose  what  they  wanted  to  eat,  for  the  general 
answer  to  their  young  waitresses  was,  "  Bless  your 
pretty  heart,  I'll  have  just  whatever  you  likes,  and 
thinks  I  can  bite  !  " 

Of  course,  the  repast  ended  with  the  one  toast 
of  the  "  Health  of  her  Majesty  the  Queen,"  with 
musical  honours  and  equally,  of  course,  it  was  cheered 
and  shouted  at  to  the  echo,  and  one  felt  it  was  by 
no  means  a  perfunctory  and  empty  ceremony,  for 
every  man  there  had  fought  and  bled  for  her. 
Then  we  gave  them  each  a  pipe  (they  called  it 
either  a  "  straw  "  or  a  "  dhudeen  "  according  to 
their  nationality)  and  a  stick  of  tobacco,  and  left 


WESTERN   AUSTRALIA  147 

them  in  charge  of  our  house  steward,  who  gave  a 
most  amusing  account  afterwards  of  how  they  had 
at  once  begun  to  fight  their  battles  over  again,  for 
many  of  them  had  been  brought  from  other  parts 
of  the  Colony  for  this  occasion  and  had  not  met 
for  a  long  time.  Their  reminiscences  were  some- 
what grisly  it  seems,  for  Pat  would  relate  how  he 
had  "  bayoneted  a  nagar  "  in  Africa  or  New  Zealand, 
capped  by  Mike's  announcement  that  he  "  took 
the  shilling  fifty  years  ago,  served  in  six  general 
engagements,  was  twice  wounded,  and  three  times 
nearly  kilt."  Whereas  Dick  would  only  regret 
that  he  had  served  twenty  years,  eleven  months 
and  thirty  days,  and  claimed  sympathy  on  the 
ground  that  if  he  had  served  "  tin  days  more,  bad 
luck  to  me  if  I  wouldn't  have1  had  another  pinny 
a  day  on  me  pintion."  But  why  he  did  not  put  in 
that  ten  days  extra  service  never  seems  to  have 
come  into  the  story. 

I  do  not  know  whether,  unlike  his  comrades, 
Mickey's  teeth  were  still  serviceable,  but  he  boasted 
that,  although  he  was  sixty-six  years  old,  he  "  hadn't 
a  grey  hair  in  me  head,  and  I  can  run,  jump  or 
leap  with  'ere  a  man  in  barracks  !  There  boys, 
hurroo !  "  Paddy  was  only  a  soldier  for  two 
years,  but  he  had  been  badly  wounded  at  Sebastopol 
and  spent  a  long  time  in  hospital ;  an  experience 
which  he  would  not  have  missed  for  the  world 
however,  for  the  Queen  visited  him  there  and  gave 
him  a  silk  handkerchief  hemmed  by  herself.  "  D'ye 


148  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

hear  what  I  say,  boys  ?  The  Queen  hemmed  it 
with  her  own  fingers  and  I've  got  it  still,  and  it's 
to  be  buried  with  me,  so  it  is." 

Then  there  were  reminiscences  of  the  dinner  on 
the  Alma  day.  "  We  had  raw  pork  served  out 
with  biscuit,  and  divil  a  stick  of  wood  to  cook  the 
meat  with."  The  V.C.  man  who  had  ridden  in 
the  Charge  of  the  Light  Brigade  could  only  re- 
member a  raw  onion  as  having  formed  his  rations 
on  that  day,  but  he  spoke  fondly  of  it. 

If  I  had  felt  any  doubts  as  to  whether  the  enter- 
tainment had  been  a  success  they  would  have  been 
dissipated  by  the  question  put  to  me  whenever 
I  came  across  an  old  Enrolled  Guardsman  after- 
wards. No  matter  what  I  spoke  of  he  invariably 
brought  the  subject  round  to  that  dinner  and 
ended  it  with,  "  I  suppose  you'd  hardly  be  thinking 
of  giving  us  another  party  like  that,  would  you 
now,  mum  ?  "  It  rather  went  to  my  heart  to  say 
I  was  afraid  not,  but  I  really  believe  it  was  the 
meeting  each  other  and  talking  over  old  times 
which  they  had  so  enjoyed.  That  is  all  nearly 
twenty  years  ago,  and  I  sadly  fear  there  are  but 
few  of  our  guests  of  that  day  still  alive,  and  when 
I  think  of  how  many  dear  ones  who  stood  by  my 
side  that  day,  not  old  and  decrepit  like  the  soldiers, 
but  in  the  full  flush  of  youth  and  health  and 
strength,  have,  like  them,  gone  into  the  Silent  Land, 
I  wonder  at  my  own  courage  in  writing  at  all  of 
those  happy  days. 


XI 
TRINIDAD 

TRINIDAD  had  nearly  completed  its  first  century  of 
British  rule  when  we  went  there  in  1891,  for  it  was 
in  February  1797  that  the  British  Fleet,  eighteen 
vessels  in  all,  under  Admiral  Harvey  came  through 
the  Bocas,  carrying  a  land  force  of  nearly  8000 
men  under  General  Sir  Ralph  Abetcromby.  The 
Spanish  Governor,  Chacon,  felt  that  no  defence 
was  possible,  for  he  only  had  at  his  command  a 
small,  passing  squadron  of  five  ships  and  about 
700  soldiers.  So,  with  an  amount  of  practical 
common-sense  and  humanity  which  might  be 
borne  in  mind  with  advantage  at  the  Hague  Con- 
ference, he  surrendered  to  the  tremendous  odds 
brought  against  him.  Not  a  single  life  was  lost  in 
this  change  of  flags  ;  but  the  Spanish  Admiral, 
Apodoca,  burned  his  ships  sooner  than  give  them 
up.  Chacon  seems  to  have  been  an  excellent 
Governor,  and  to  have  done  much  for  his  colony 
before  he  had  to  yield  to  force  majeure.  Indeed, 
it  always  struck  me  in  looking  over  the  history  of 
Trinidad  that  it  had  been  exceptionally  fortunate 


149 


150  COLONIAL  MEMORIES 

in  its  Governors.  Colonel  Thomas  Picton  was 
its  first  English  proconsul,  and  though,  as  might 
be  expected,  somewhat  high-handed  and  hasty  in 
his  dealings,  especially  with  the  natives,  the  colony 
made  great  progress  under  his  rule  ;  but  it  only 
lasted  six  years,  which  was  considered  a  short  time 
to  manage  the  affairs  of  a  colony  in  those  days. 
It  is  a  fact,  however,  that  when  Sir  Thomas  Picton 
fell  at  Waterloo,  he  was  practically  under  trial  for 
the  alleged  murder  of  two  slaves  in  Trinidad.  The 
case  was  only  standing  over  for  further  evidence. 
Certainly,  things — justice  among  other  things — 
seem  to  have  been  done  in  a  loose  and  free-and- 
easy  way  in  the  early  days  of  the  last  century  ! 

The  Governor  par  excellence  of  Trinidad,  how- 
ever, is,  and  always  will  be,  Sir  Ralph  Woodford, 
although  Lord  Harris  and  Sir  Arthur  Gordon  run 
him  very  close  in  enduring  popularity  of  the  best 
sort.  But  Sir  Ralph  was  truly  a  born  empire- 
maker.  He  was  so  young,  too — only  twenty-nine 
— when  he  began  (in  1813)  his  fifteen  years  of 
hard  work  in  a  tropical  climate.  It  must  have 
been  extremely  difficult  to  change  the  whole  state 
of  affairs,  even  the  language — for  it  was  not  until 
his  day  that  English  was  used  in  the  Law  Courts 
and  that  the  minutes  of  the  "  Cabildo "— the 
precursor  of  our  Legislative  Council — were  kept 
in  the  new  tongue.  Poor  Sir  Ralph  died  at  sea 
on  his  way  to  England  in  1828,  and  it  is  sad  to 


TRINIDAD  151 

think  how  completely  his  valuable  life  seems  to 
have  been  thus  early  sacrificed  to  the  ignorance 
of  the  commonest  rules  of  health.  But  he  would 
not  leave  his  work  in  time,  and  so  died  in  harness 
very  shortly  after  he  had  been  persuaded  to  leave 
his  beautiful  and  beloved  colony. 

Lord  Harris  did  not  take  up  the  reins  of  govern- 
ment until  1846,  only  eight  years  after  slavery  had 
been  abolished,  so  he  had  to  deal  with  as  complex 
a  state  of  affairs  as  Picton  or  Woodford.  But  he 
ruled  splendidly  and  successfully  until  1854,  and 
it  was  delightful  to  hear,  nearly  half  a  century 
afterwards,  how  well  the  numerous  reforms  and 
systems  he  had  started  still  worked. 

All  this  time  the  various  Governors  had  dwelt 
in  many  and  different  Government  Houses,  all 
more  or  less  near  the  site  of  the  present  one.  Don 
Jose"  Maria  Chacon,  captain  in  the  Spanish  Navy, 
and  his  predecessors  seem  to  have  lived  on  the 
side  of  a  neighbouring  hill,  but  it  is  difficult  to  trace 
even  the  foundations  of  that  house,  for  when  once 
"  the  jungle  is  let  in  "  it  soon  covers  up  and  does 
away  with  bricks  and  mortar.  Then  came  a 
strange  and  ugly  little  dwelling  where  the  pastures 
of  the  Government  farm  now  spread,  and  that  was 
succeeded  by  a  house  of  sorts  (of  which  I  could 
find  no  pictured  record)  in  the  Botanical  Gardens. 
That  must  have  been  near  where  the  present  beauti- 
ful dwelling  stands,  for  whenever  I  said  what  a  pity 


152  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

it  was  that  the  stables  should  be  so  near  the  house, 
I  was  always  told  that  they  were  a  survival  of  a 
former  Government  House  in  the  same  spot.  But 
the  jungle  also  seemed  to  have  been  let  in  on  the 
minds  of  my  informants,  for  I  never  could  elicit  any 
accurate  information  about  that  house.  Sir  Ralph 
Woodford  lived  in  a  large  Government  House  in 
Port  of  Spain,  used  as  Government  Offices  and 
burned  in  the  late  riots,  but  the  really  historical 
Government  House  in  Trinidad  will  always  be  the 
Government  Cottage  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
away,  still  in  the  Botanical  Gardens,  where  Sir 
Arthur  Gordon  lived  and  Kingsley  wrote  his  "  At 
Last."  Nothing  now  remains  of  what  must  have 
been  a  picturesque  and  romantically  pretty  little 
dwelling  but  the  swimming-bath  and  an  outbuilding 
used  as  a  cottage  for  the  house  carpenter.  But  I 
often  used  to  go  and  look  up  the  valley  with  "  At 
Last "  in  my  hand,  and  try  to  identify  the  trees 
described.  The  ravine  or  dell  immortalised  by 
Kingsley  has,  however,  suffered  many  changes 
from  the  woodman's  axe  and  forest  fires,  for  the 
only  tree  I  could  ever  recognise  is  the  big  Saman 
outside  the  ballroom  windows. 

A  propos  of  the  existing  building,  "  I  call  this  a 
tropical  palace,"  was  the  remark  made  to  me 
several  times  a  day  by  one  of  our  numerous — shall 
I  say  globe-trotting  ? — guests,  who  certainly  ought 
to  have  been  a  judge  of  palaces.  And  there  was 


TRINIDAD  153 

some  truth  in  the  criticism  as  applied  to  the  present 
Government  House  at  Trinidad.  Because  the 
popular  idea  of  a  palace  is  that  it  is  not  a  very 
comfortable  dwelling,  and  chiefly  constructed  with 
a  view  to  first  impressions.  This  "  palace,"  how- 
ever, is  really  a  beautiful  house,  and  stands  in  the 
large  Botanical  Gardens  of  Port  of  Spain.  It  has 
a  charming  view  over  the  wide  savannah  in  front, 
and  is  sheltered  from  the  cold  north  winds  by  the 
low,  beautifully  wooded  hills  behind.  The  natives 
say  of  this  same  wind,  which  is  so  alluringly  fresh 
and  cool,  "  vent  de  nord,  vent  de  mort,"  and  the 
chill  it  brings  to  the  unwary,  especially  at  night, 
is  doubtless  accountable  for  many  of  the  local  colds 
and  fevers.  Nothing  can  be  much  more  beautiful 
than  the  first  effect  of  the  entrance  hall  to  this 
Government  House,  and  the  long  vista  through 
the  large  saloon  and  ballroom  beyond  ends  with  a 
glimpse  of  that  magnificent  Saman  tree  on  whose 
wide-spreading  branches  grows  what  Kingsley  so 
aptly  calls — speaking  of  this  same  tree — "  an  air- 
garden." 

To  my  mind  that  tree  was  quite  one  of  the  sights 
of  those  beautiful  gardens.  Beneath  it  flourishes 
a  small  grove  of  nutmeg-trees,  and  tall,  spreading 
palms,  all  of  which  seem  mere  shrubs  and  bushes 
compared  to  its  lofty  splendour.  When  it  is  loaded 
with  its  pink  feathery  blossoms,  it  attracts  every 
bird  and  insect  in  the  island,  but  our  winter  visitors 


154  COLONIAL  MEMORIES 

never  really  saw  that  tree  in  its  full  beauty,  for  the 
wondrous  air-garden  growth  did  not  develop  until 
after  the  first  heavy  rains.  Then  it  is  indeed 
wonderful  to  see  the  sudden  spikes  of  brilliant 
blossom,  the  fantastic  orchid  growth,  and  the  mar- 
vellous wealth  of  ferns  clustering  and  drooping  all 
along  the  massive  branches.  I  endured  great 
anxiety  lest  the  weight  of  the  wet  verdure  should 
break  down  these  giant  limbs,  for  the  wood  is 
rather  soft  and  unsubstantial.  However,  no  such 
calamity  has  yet  occurred. 

But  to  come  back  to  the  tropical  palace.  It  was 
certainly  an  ideal  house  for  entertaining.  I  always 
declared  that  the  balls  gave  themselves,  and  there 
never  was  the  slightest  trouble  in  arranging  any 
sort  of  party  in  the  large  rooms,  which  were  always 
as  cool  as  possible  after  sunset.  The  ballroom  was 
lofty,  open  "  to  all  the  airts  that  blow,"  and  pos- 
sessed a  perfect  floor.  Then  when  you  have  Kew 
Gardens  for  decorative  purposes  growing  outside 
your  windows,  there  is  not  much  difficulty  in  pro- 
ducing a  pretty  effect.  Indeed,  the  entire  house  was 
arranged  for  coolness,  from  the  great  hall  which 
went  up  the  whole  height  of  the  building,  to  the 
wide  verandahs  which  surrounded  it  on  three  sides. 
But  in  the  bedroom  accommodation  there  is  a  woeful 
falling-off,  and  I  was  often  at  my  wits'  end  to 
know  how  to  house  the  numerous  guests  who  flock 
to  these  "  Summer  Isles  of  Eden "  every  winter. 


TRINIDAD  155 

There  is  no  place  in  the  house  for  English  servants, 
and  your  own  and  your  visitors'  servants  can  only 
be  put  up  in  some  of  the  guest-rooms.  There  is  one 
magnificent  bedroom  which  is  called  "  the  Prince's 
Room,"  as  H.R.H.  the  present  Prince  of  Wales 
inhabited  it  during  his  last  visit,  in  1891.  But  it 
is  a  very  hot  room,  and  if  you  are  to  coax  any  cool 
air  into  it  you  must  resign  yourself  to  keeping 
your  doors  wide  open.  The  suite  of  rooms  generally 
used  by  the  Governor  are  at  the  end  of  another  long 
corridor,  and,  though  good,  comfortable,  and  cer- 
tainly the  coolest  in  the  house,  are  so  close  to  the 
stables  that  one  hears  the  horses  stamping  and 
fidget  ting  all  night,  especially  when  the  vampire 
bats  are  tormenting  them.  The  only  back  stair- 
case in  the  house  also  passes  close  to  these  rooms, 
so  they  can  hardly  be  described  as  quiet  or  private. 
Still,  it  was  a  very  pretty  house,  and  I  took  great 
pride  and  delight  in  hearing  it  admired. 

It  is  not  until  one  lives  in  a  place  oneself  that 
one  realises  in  what  degree  it  is  accessible.  Cer- 
tainly I  never  thought  I  should  welcome  many 
English  friends  coming  out  to  Trinidad  just  for  a 
little  change  after  influenza !  But  that  constantly 
happened,  and  beautiful  yachts  often  looked  in 
there  for  a  few  days,  to  say  nothing  of  training 
ships  of  all  nationalities.  The  attraction  to  them 
was  the  placid  nature  of  the  Gulf  of  Paria,  which 
made  it  an  ideal  playground,  or  rather  school- 


156  COLONIAL  MEMORIES 

room,  for  them,  and  many  intricate  evolutions  on 
its  smooth  surface  have  I  been  invited  to  witness. 
There  I  beheld  with  interest  as  well  as  amuse- 
ment the  young  idea  being  taught  how  to  shoot 
torpedoes  as  well  as  to  lay  or  find  mines  and  other 
fiendish  contrivances. 

It  always  amused  me,  especially  with  the  foreign 
vessels,  to  watch  the  degree  of  ardour  with  which 
the  naval  cadets  pursued  their  deep-sea  studies. 
But  the  most  ardent  and  promising  pupil  who  ever 
visited  our  shores  was  a  young  Japanese  prince, 
who,  if  his  proficiency  of  those  ten-year-old  days  is 
any  guide,  ought  certainly  to  have  played  a  very 
distinguished  part  in  the  present  struggle  with 
Russia.  Anything  like  that  boy's  thirst  for  know- 
ledge and  anxiety  to  do  every  other  cadet's  work 
I  never  beheld.  He  was  studying  at  that  time  on 
board  a  German  training  ship,  but  he  told  me  he 
hoped  to  go  for  a  second  course  of  instruction  to 
an  English  one.  His  captain  said  he  had  never 
seen  any  cadet  work  so  hard  or  so  conscientiously, 
and  his  one  waking  thought  was  to  make  himself 
acquainted  with  every  detail  of  his  profession. 

The  naval  cadets  of  every  nation  were  always 
free  to  spend  their  shore  leave  at  Government 
House,  and  play  tennis  or  amuse  themselves  in 
the  beautiful  gardens  in  any  way  they  liked,  for 
the  thought  of  my  own  boys  made  me  anxious  to 
provide  a  safe  and  pleasant  play-place  for  them, 


TRINIDAD  157 

and  it  delighted  me  to  see  how  much  they  liked 
coming  up  to  us.  The  huge  fresh-water  swimming- 
bath  in  the  grounds  counted  for  a  great  deal  in  their 
simple  amusements,  as  did  the  iced  "  lime-squash  " 
afterwards.  The  little  prince  came  but  seldom,  and 
if  I  asked'  after  him,  I  was  always  told,  "Oh,  he  is 
doing  so  and  so's  work." 

One  beautiful  evening  we  were  going  to  take  tea 
on  board  this  same  German  man-of-war,  and  I 
noticed  in  the  launch  which  was  sent  to  tow  our 
own  barge  a  grimy  little  figure  working  away  at 
the  miniature  stoke-hole.  "  Who  is  that  ?  "  I 
asked.  "  That  ?  oh,  that's  the  Prince,  of  course. 
He  begged  to  be  allowed'  to  come  and  stoke  for  you. 
He  wanted  to  learn  just  how  that  furnace  went." 

Prince  K.  did  not  seem  to  know  how  to  play 
tennis,  nor  could  he  dance,  and  I  do  not  believe 
his  idea  of  amusement  extended  beyond  his  ship's 
side.  At  his  Captain's  request  we  gave  him  a 
formal  dinner-party,  receiving  and  treating  him 
just  as  we  would  our  own  royalty.  Poor  boy,  he 
went  through  it  all  courageously,  but  it  must  have 
been  a  terrible  infliction,  for  he  could  not  speak 
one  word  of  English,  and  even  his  knowledge  of 
German  was  scanty.  He  brought  two  gentlemen 
of  his  suite  with  him,  and  depended  on  them  for 
translation.  They  both  spoke  French  as  well  as 
English  tolerably  well,  but  as  far  as  appearance 
went  the  little  Prince  had  decidedly  the  advantage, 


158  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

and  looked  very  high-bred  in  his  plain  and  correct 
evening  dress,  but  it  was  the  only  time  I  ever  saw 
him  out  of  uniform.  He'  maintained  a  true  Oriental 
gravity  all  through  dinner,  and  it  was  quite  a 
revelation  of  his  real  expression  of  face  when  the 
Governor,  after  the  usual  toast  of  the  Queen's 
health,  proposed  that  of  the  Emperor  of  Japan, 
and  one  of  his  gentlemen,  whom  I  had  taken  the 
precaution  of  putting  near  him,  told  him  of  the 
terms  of  the  toast.  The  lad  sprang  to  his  feet  at 
once,  and  with  really  a  beaming  countenance  bowed 
low,  first  to  the  Governor  and  then  to  the  rest  of 
the  company.  He  looked  absolutely  delighted,  and 
it  did  not  need  his  Secretary's  whispered  comment 
of  "  His  Highness  ver  much  please  "  to  tell  me 
how  gratified  he  was. 

But  after  dinner  things  became  terribly  dull  for 
him,  poor  boy.  He  did  not  dance,  nor  seem  to  care 
about  music  or  anything  else  which  was  going  on, 
so  it  fell  to  my  share  to  walk  him  about  the  large 
salon,  and  show  him  whatever  I  thought  might 
possibly  interest  him.  Of  course,  his  two  gentle- 
men were  in  close  attendance,  or  we  should  indeed 
have  suffered  conversational  shipwreck.  When  I 
arrived  at  an  enormous  elephant's  foot,  I  thought 
we  had  now  certainly  reached  a  turning-point  in 
the  tide  of  boredom  which  had  evidently  set  in 
for  the  poor  youth.  But  in  spite  of  my  explana- 
tion of  how  the  big  beast  had  fallen  to  my  eldest 


TRINIDAD  159 

son's  rifle  and  various  exciting  details  of  the  said 
fall,  all  duly  passed  on  by  the  other  gentlemen, 
I  could  not  see  the  faintest  trace  of  interest  or 
even  of  comprehension  in  that  irnrnovable  ivory 
countenance.  At  last  the  Secretary  murmured: 
"  Highness  not  know  elephant  ver  well."  This 
was  indeed  despairing,  but  my  eye  was  caught  by 
a  clumsy  little  ebony  model  of  an  elephant,  which 
I  seized  as  an  object-lesson,  handing  it  to  the  Secre- 
tary, and  saying,  "  Please  explain  to  his  Highness 
that  this  is  an  elephant."  The  Prince  murmured 
some  words  in  reply  which  were  translated  to  me 
as  :  "  Ah,  I  see  !  a  large  sort  of  pig." 

After  this  I  felt  I  must  let  things  take  their  course, 
and  I  have  no  doubt  the  polite  adieux  which  soon 
followed  were  as  great  a  relief  to  the  guest  as  they 
were  to  me. 

The  greatest  daytime  treat  I  could  ever  give 
my  guests  was  to  send  them  round  the  Botanical 
Gardens  under  the  escort  of  the  gifted  superin- 
tendent. They  always  returned  hot  and  thirsty, 
but  with  their  hands  full  of  treasures.  I  think  a 
freshly-gathered  nutmeg,  with  its  camellia-green 
leaves  and  its  apricot-like  fruit,  enlaced  with  the 
crimson  network  we  know  later  as  mace,  procured 
them  the  greatest  joy  of  all.  Then  came  breathless 
accounts  of  the  soap-nut  with  which  they  had 
washed  their  hands,  of  the  ink  galls  with  which  they 
had  written  their  names,  of  orchids  growing  beneath 


160  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

long  arcades — "Out  of  doors  you  know!" — of  palms 
of  every  size  and  sort  and  description,  each  more 
lovely  than  its  neighbour,  of  strange  lianes  which, 
dropping  down  from  lofty  trees  and  swinging  in 
the  breeze,  are  caught  and  twisted  by  Nature's 
charming  caprice  into  the  most  fantastic  shapes 
imaginable. 

There  are  many  advantages  connected  with  the 
Government  House  standing  in  these  beautiful 
gardens,  but  it  cannot  be  said  to  conduce  to  its 
privacy.  I  always  pined  for  "  three  acres  and  a 
cow  "  to  myself,  but  I  never  got  it !  A  tiny  iron 
fence,  six  inches  from  the  ground,  marked  out  the 
tennis-courts,  and  certain  narrow  limits  beyond, 
which  were  supposed  to  be  private,  and  little  iron 
notice-plates  repeated  the  idea.  But  if  any  enter- 
prising tourist  wished  to  enlarge  his  sphere  of 
observation,  none  of  these  trifles  stood  in  his  or  her 
way,  and  I  have  sometimes  been  awakened  at  day- 
light by  vociferous  demands,  just  outside  my  bed- 
room window,  to  know  "  where  the  electric  eel 
lived."  Poor  thing,  it  djd  not  live  anywhere  latterly, 
for  it  had  died  ;  but  there  was  no  persuading  the 
energetic  visitor,  who  only  had  a  couple  of  hours 
in  which  to  "  do  "  the  Botanical  Gardens,  that  I 
had  not  secreted  it  in  my  bathroom. 

I  must  hasten  to  add,  however,  that  it  was  only 
the  tourist  who  sometimes  harried  us,  for  it  seemed 
well  understood  by  the  people  of  the  island  that  a 


TRINIDAD  161 

certain  small  space  round  Government  House  was 
private  ground,  and  we  never  had  the  least  diffi- 
culty with  even  the4  numerous  nurses  and  babies 
who  flocked,  for  whatever  fresh  air  was  going,  to 
these  charming  gardens  where  the  capital  police 
band  plays  twice  a  week.  We  often  strolled  about 
this  public  part  of  the  gardens  on  Sunday  after- 
noons, when  many  people  were  about,  and  I  enjoyed 
it  thoroughly,  until  it  came  to  the  final  "  God  save 
the  Queen,"  and  then  I  confess  I  always  felt  sur- 
prised and  indignant  to  see  how  few  hats  were 
taken  off.  Every  white  man,  from  the  Governor 
downwards,  stood  bare-headed  of  course,  from  the 
first  note  to  the  last,  so  did  the  ever-courteous 
foreign  visitor ;  but  hardly  a  well-clad,  well-fed 
young  coloured  man  followed  their  example.  I  was 
always  deeply  ashamed  at  visitors  seeing  this  lack 
of  loyalty  or  manners  (I  don't  know  which).  I  ob- 
served the  elder  black  men  nearly  always  uncovered, 
but  the  dark,  gilded  youth  of  Port  of  Spain  cer- 
tainly did  not. 

One  does  not  realise  how  close  Trinidad  is  to 
Venezuela  until  one  goes  there.  My  very  first 
drive  showed  me  a  fine  mountain  range  blend- 
ing beautifully  with  the  fair  and  extensive  land- 
scape. 

"  I  thought  there  were  no  really  high  mountains 
in  Trinidad  !  "  I  exclaimed  in  surprise. 

"  But  those  are  not  in  Trinidad,"  was  the  crush- 

L 


162  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

ing  answer  ;  "  they  are  on  the  mainland,  which  is 
only  twenty  miles  off,  just  there." 

I  little  thought,  that  day,  how  anxiously  I  should 
watch  the  political  horizon  of  Venezuela  !  But  as 
the  supply  of  beef  depended  on  the  numerous  re- 
volutions or  threatenings  of  revolutions,  I  grew  to 
take  the  liveliest  interest  in  those  social  convul- 
sions, and  I  became  an  ardent  advocate  of  peace 
at  almost  any  price — of  beef. 

I  always  longed  yet  never  made  time,  I  am  sorry 
to  say,  to  go  up  one  of  the  numerous  mouths  of  the 
Orinoco  which  run  into  our  Gulf,  the  Gulf  of  Paria ; 
many  of  our  guests  made  the  excursion,  getting  up 
as  far  as  Bolivar  in  one  of  the  comfortable,  almost 
flat-bottomed  river  steamers  which  provide  an  ex- 
cellent service.  The  accounts  brought  back  were 
always  so  glowing  that  I  longed  to  go,  but  home 
duties  and  home  ties  pinned  me  firmly  down. 

Venezuela  seems  to  be  a  perfect  land  of  Goshen 
compared  to  even  our  tropical  luxuriance,  and  the 
cocoa-pods,  bananas,  and  plantains  brought  back 
from  the  mainland  were,  without  the  least  exaggera- 
tion, quite  twice  as  large  as  those  grown  on  the 
island.  "  But,  then,  what  would  you  have  ?  "  I 
was  asked.  "  Trinidad  is  only  a  little  bit  of  South 
America  which  the  Orinoco  has  washed  off  from  the 
mainland."  If  this  be  so,  then  the  mighty  stream 
dropped  several  of  the  pieces  on  the  way,  for  there 
are  many  islets,  some  five  miles  or  more  away  from 


TRINIDAD  163 

Trinidad,  and  towards  the  Bocas  or  mouths  of  the 
great  river.  These  little  islands  are  a  great  feature 
of  Trinidad,  and  splendid  places  for  change  of  air 
or  excursions.  They  all  have  houses  on  them,  and 
one  tiny  islet  may,  I  think,  claim  to  be  the  smallest 
spot  of  earth  which  holds  a  dwelling.  It  is  just  a 
rock,  on  the  top  of  which  is  perched  a  small  but 
comfortable  and  compact  house.  Beyond  its  outer 
wall  is,  on  one  side,  a  minute  plateau  about  ten  or 
twelve  feet  in  length,  and  that  is  all  the  exercise- 
ground  on  the  island.  I  was  assured  it  was  the 
favourite  honeymoon  resort,  which  certainly  seemed 
putting  the  capabilities  of  companionship  of  the 
newly -married  couple  to  a  rather  severe  test ! 
Fishing,  boating,  and  bathing  are  the  resources  at 
the  command  of  the  islet  visitors,  and  the  air  is 
wonderfully  fresh  and  cool  on  these  little  fragments 
of  the  earth's  surface.  Whenever  I  could  make 
time  it  was  my  great  delight  to  take  the  Govern- 
ment launch  with  tea  and  a  party  of  young  friends 
to  one  of  these  islets,  and  it  was  certainly  a  de- 
lightful way  of  spending  a  hot  afternoon. 

Trinidad  is  a  great  place  for  cricket,  and  boasts 
a  beautiful  ground  belonging  to  a  private  club. 
First-class  teams  often  go  out  there  to  play  matches, 
and  I  used  to  see  incessant  cricket  practice  going 
on  on  the  savannah  in  front  of  Government  House. 
Certainly  that  savannah  is  a  splendid  "  lung " 
to  the  low-lying  town,  and  the  people  of  Trinidad 


164  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

may  well  be  proud  of  it.  On  its  south-western  side 
is  a  small  walled  enclosure  ;  it  is  the  graveyard  of 
the  original  Spanish  owners  of  the  soil,  and  a  large 
sugar  estate  once  stood  where  races  are  run  and 
cricket  played  nowadays.  The  living  owners  have 
all,  long  ago,  disappeared  ;  only  the  dead  remain 
in  their  peaceful  little  resting-place  under  the  shade 
of  the  spreading  trees  which  grow  inside  the  low 
wall. 

To  return  for  a  moment  to  the  Botanical  Gardens. 
Within  the  limits  of  the  so-called  private  part  is 
a  small  plot  of  ground  planted  with  vegetables  for 
the  Governor's  use.  In  my  eyes  it  was  chiefly 
remarkable  for  the  three  large,  coarse  sort  of  bean- 
vines  which  grew  at  its  entrance,  and  which  were 
further  decorated  at  the  top  of  the  stick  round 
which  they  clung  (in  very  tipsy  fashion)  by  an 
empty  bottle  and  some  tufts  of  shabby  feathers. 
These  aicjs  to  horticulture  being  quite  new  to  me, 
I  inquired  their  use,  and  was  assured  they  con- 
stituted the  Obeah  police  of  the  garden,  and  that 
so  long  as  those  vines  grew  there,  no  young  lettuce 
or  tomato  or  yam  would  be  stolen  from  that  garden  ; 
and  certainly  theft  was  never  assigned  as  the  reason 
for  the  scanty  contents  of  the  gardener's  daily 
basket.  It  was  always  the  time  of  year  or  the 
weather. 

I  used  to  feel  very  envious  when  some  of  the  older 
residents  would  speak  of  these  gardens  as  having 


TRINIDAD  165 

been  the  home  of  the  humming-bird.  Alas  !  the 
lovely  little  creatures  are  seldom  to  be  seen  there 
now,  in  spite  of  the  protective  legislation  of  many 
years  past.  But  the  ruthless  tourist  will  always 
buy  a  humming-bird's  nest,  especially  with  its  two 
sugar-plum-like  eggs  in  it,  so  the  enterprising  black 
boy  keeps  a  sharp  look-out  for  these  articles  of 
commerce.  Soon  after  we  first  went  there,  I  found 
a  wee  nest  on  a  low  branch  of  a  tree  close  to  Govern- 
ment House,  with  a  darling  little  bird  sitting  in  it. 
I  peeped  cautiously  very  often  during  the  next  few 
days,  and  the  young  mother  grew  so  accustomed  to 
my  visits  that  she  would  let  me  stand  within  a 
yard  of  the  bough.  At  last  some  microscopic  frag- 
ments of  eggshell  appeared  on  the  moss  beneath, 
and  on  my  next  visit,  when  the  little  hen  was  away 
getting  food,  I  beheld  a  thing  very  like  a  bee  with 
a  beak.  This  object  seemed  to  grow  amazingly 
every  few  hours,  so  that  in  a  week  it  looked  quite 
like  a  respectable  bird.  Imagine  my  rage  and 
despair  when  I  found  one  morning  the  branch 
broken  off  and  the  baby  bird  dead  on  the  ground. 
My  sweet  little  nest  had  been  taken  for  the  sake 
of  the  sixpence  it  would  fetch  next  time  a  tourist- 
laden  yacht  came  in  ! 

A  much  happier  fate  attended  a  humming-bird 
which  built  its  nest  in  a  small  palm  growing  in  a 
friend's  drawing-room.  I  paid  many  visits  to  that 
drawing-room  during  the  bird's  occupancy,  and  any- 


{)  1 1  f  Ai  f  I  H 


1 66  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

thing  so  interesting  as  its  manners  and  customs 
cannot  be  imagined.  Instead  of  bringing  material 
from  outside  for  the  nest,  the  tiny  builder  requi- 
sitioned the  floss  silk  from  an  embroidered  cushion 
and  the  wool  from  a  ball-fringe.  The  nest,  un- 
usually gay  in  colour,  hung  down  a  couple  of  inches 
from  one  of  the  serrated  points  of  the  palm  leaf ; 
but  when  I  was  first  invited  to  come  and  look  on, 
it  was  not  quite  completed  to  the  feathered  lady's 
satisfaction,  for  she  still  darted  in  and  out  of  the 
open  windows  and  about  the  room. 

The  master  of  the  house,  at  my  request,  seated 
himself  in  his  usual  arm-chair  and  opened  his  news- 
paper, and  I  made  myself  as  small  as  I  could  in 
a  distant  corner.  Our  patience  was  soon  rewarded, 
for  there  was  the  little  bird  balancing  itself  with 
its  vibrating  wings  just  above  the  newspaper.  How- 
ever, as  no  building  material  was  forthcoming  from 
that  source,  she  flashed  over  to  my  corner,  and, 
quicker  than  the  eye  could  follow,  had  snatched 
a  thread  of  silk  from  a  work-table  and  was  off  to 
her  work  again.  The  little  creature  got  quite  tame, 
and  her  confidence  was  well  placed,  for  nothing 
could  exceed  the  charming  kindness  of  her  host  and 
hostess.  The  eggs  were  laid  and  hatched  in  due 
time,  and  the  master  of  the  house  told  me  he  used 
to  get  up  at  the  day-dawn  and  open  his  drawing- 
room  window  to  let  the  little  mother  out  to  get 
food  for  her  babies.  This  necessitated  his  remaining 


TRINIDAD  167 

the  rest  of  the  morning  in  the  drawing-room,  as  he 
said  it  would  not  have  been  safe  to  have  left  it.  I 
naturally  thought  he  feared  for  the  safety  of  his 
wife's  pretty  things,  but  oh,  no — what  he  guarded 
was  the  nest,  lest  it  should  meet  the  fate  of  mine 
and  be  stolen. 

It  was  on  this  occasion  I  found  out  what  humming- 
birds feed  on.  The  popular  idea  is  that  they  live  on 
honey,  and  attempts  have  often  been  made  to  keep 
them  in  captivity  on  honey,  or  sugar  and  water, 
with  the  result  that  the  poor  little  birds  died  of 
starvation  in  a  day  or  two.  The  honey  theory  has 
sprung  from  seeing  the  birds  darting  their  long  bills 
and  still  longer  tongues  into  the  cups  of  honey- 
bearing  flowers.  What  they  are  getting,  however, 
is  not  honey,  but  the  minute  insect  which  is 
attracted  and  caught  by  the  honey. 

I  never  saw  any  but  the  commonest  sort  of 
humming-bird  during  my  stay  in  Trinidad,  and 
very  few  of  those,  and  I  was  told  that  even  in  the 
high  woods  it  was  rare  now  to  behold  them.  In 
spite  of  the  stringent  ordinance  against  killing 
colibris,  I  fear  many  skins  are  taken  away  every 
year  by  the  tourist,  especially  by  the  scientific 
tourist.  Never  can  I  forget  my  feelings  when,  on 
bidding  adieu  to  a  delightful  foreign  savant,  he  in- 
formed me  that  he  had  enjoyed  his  trips  into  the 
interior  of  the  island  immensely,  and  had  collected 
many  interesting  specimens  of  flora  and  fauna,  in- 


i68  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

eluding  a  hundred  humming-bird  skins  !  I  nearly 
fainted  with  horror,  but  my  one  effort  then  was  to 
prevent  this  dreadful  boast  reaching  the  Governor's 
ears,  for  I  felt  sure  that  international  complications 
of  a  very  grave  character  would  have  followed. 

Pages  might  be  written  on  the  scientific  value  of 
the  beautiful  gardens  which  surround  this  tropical 
palace,  as  well  as  of  the  opportunity  they  afford  of 
studying  insect  life.  At  first  it  is  disappointing  to 
see  so  few  flowers  in  them,  but  in  the  summer  the 
large  trees  are  covered  with  blossom,  and,  in  fact, 
the  flowers  may  be  said  to  have  taken  refuge  up 
the  trees  from  the  all-devouring  ants.  But  the 
serious  business  of  the  gardens  is  really  to  make 
experiments  in  the  growth  and  cultivation  of  the 
various  economic  products  of  the  island — raising 
seedling  canes,  coffee,  and  cocoa,  and  determining 
which  variety  would  most  successfully  repay  culture. 
It  is  a  mistake  to  regard  them  only  from  the  orna- 
mental point  of  view,  though  their  beauty  is  very 
striking,  for  they  are  chiefly  valuable  for  their 
practical  results. 


XII 
TRINIDAD— Continued 

BESIDES  the  humming-birds  there  were  many  less 
welcome  denizens  of  the  Gardens.  There  were 
ants  of  every  species  known  to  even  Sir  John 
Lubbock.  Parasol  ants,  who  occasionally  took  a 
fancy  to  my  dinner-table  decorations,  especially 
if  the  beautiful  and  brilliant  Amherstia  were 
used.  I  have  often  been  requested  to  say  what 
was  to  be  done  with  long  lines  of  myriad  ants 
ascending  by  one  leg  of  the  dinner-table  and  de- 
scending by  another,  each  carrying  a  good-sized 
bit  of  scarlet  petal  tossed  airily  over  his  shoulder ! 
Anything  so  quaint  as  these  processions  of  gay 
colour  marching  across  the  white  cloth  cannot  be 
imagined.  It  was  a  case  of  "  Tiger  in  station, 
please  arrange,"  and  there  was  just  as  little  to  be 
done  except  to  give  up  the  Amherstia.  These  ants 
occasionally  took  a  fancy  to  the  flowers  on  my 
writing-table  also,  but  we  never  seriously  inter- 
fered with  each  other.  I  naturally  thought  that 
the  ants  ate  these  leaves  and  petals,  but  they  only 

chew  them  up  and  spread  them  out  like  manure 

169 


170  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

on  the  feeding-grounds  near  the  nests.  From  this 
sort  of  cultivation  a  minute  fungus-like  growth 
springs,  and  on  that  they  feed.  So  destructive  are 
their  operations  that  a  functionary  is  specially 
retained  in  the  Botanical  Gardens  to  follow  them 
up  and  discover  and  destroy  the  nests,  which  are 
generally  at  a  very  great  distance  from  the  scene 
of  their  labours,  and  I  often  watched  with  interest 
a  lantern  apparently  creeping  along  the  ground  of 
a  dark  night. 

What  I  really  wanted  to  see  was  a  raid  of  Hunter 
ants.  I  had  read  a  fascinating  description  in  a 
book  of  early  days  in  Trinidad,  of  a  domiciliary 
visit  paid  to  the  author's  house  in  the  country, 
which  she  and  her  children  h'ad  hastily  to  vacate 
at  earliest  dawn,  taking  with  them  their  pet  birds 
and  a  kitten,  which  the  slave-women,  who  warned 
them  to  "  turn  out  sharp,"  declared  would  be 
devoured  if  left  behind.  The  Hunter  ants  spent 
the  whole  of  that  day  inside  the  house,  clearing 
it  of  every  lizard,  mouse,  cockroach,  beetle,  and 
such  small  deer.  The  writer  describes  the  ants  as 
having  wings  when  they  first  appeared  ;  but  when 
their  day  of  gorging  was  over  they  emerged  wingless, 
and  rested  in  vast  dark  masses  in  her  garden.  They 
had  not  touched  anything  except  the  small  reptile 
and  insect  colonies,  which,  we  must  remember, 
were  likely  to  flourish  under  the  deep  thatched 
roof  of  those  days,  long  before  galvanised  iron 


TRINIDAD  171 

or  shingles  from  America  were  known.  The  writer 
goes  on  to  say  that  at  dawn  next  day  she  heard 
strange  and  weird  screams  from  numerous  small 
sea-gulls,  who,  in  their  turn,  were  making  an  ex- 
cellent breakfast  off  the  fat  Hunter  ants.  Such 
scenes  as  this  are  hardly  ever  to  be  met  with  in 
these  days,  for  the1  houses  are  so  different,  and 
more  of  the  high  woods  are  cleared  every  year. 

On  these  hillsides  cocoa  is  grown  very  successfully 
by  the  small  cultivator.  I  have  often,  during  our 
excursions  up  the  lovely  lonely  valleys  within  an 
easy  drive  of  Port  of  Spain,  watched  the  process, 
which  seemed  very  primitive.  The  clearing  ap- 
peared to  entail  far  the  most  labour,  in  spite  of  as 
much  burning  as  was  compatible  with  the  lush- 
green  foliage.  Banana-suckers  were  the  first  things 
planted  round  the  hole  which  held  the  young  cocoa 
plant,  to  shade  it ;  next  came  small  trees  of  the 
madre  di  cocoa,  or  bois  immortel,  which  are 
indispensable  to  a  cocoa  plantation.  This  tree 
is  at  all  stages  of  its  growth  a  very  straggling  one, 
and  can  give  but  little  shade.  I  suspect  it  is  chiefly 
valuable  from  its  draining  properties,  for  the  fact 
remains  that  cocoa  steadily  declines  to  flourish  any- 
where without  its  madre. 

Anything  so  beautiful  as  the  hills  towards  San 
Fernando  in  the  very  earliest  spring  when  the 
dense  woods  of  bois  immortel  are  in  full  blossom 
cannot  be  imagined.  At  sunset  the  whole  country- 


172  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

side  glows  with  a  radiance  which  looks  like  enchant- 
ment, and  the  green  effect  of  this  beautiful  tropic 
island  then  merges  over  those  low  hills  into  a  vivid 
scarlet,  melting  away  into  the  indigo  shadows  of 
the  quick-falling  dusk.  Cocoa  is  a  most  beautiful 
crop,  for  the  broad  glossy  leaves  do  not  at  all  conceal 
the  large  brilliant  pod,  which  grows  in  an  inde- 
pendent manner,  in  twos  and  threes,  right  out  of 
the  stem  or  the  thickest  branches.  At  no  time  of 
year  are  the  trees  quite  bare  of  pods,  which  are  of 
various  colours.  I  have  often  seen  a  pale  green 
pod,  a  scarlet  one,  and  a  rich  dark  crimson  or 
brilliant  yellow  pod  growing  quite  happily  side  by 
side  ;  of  course  they  were  all  in  different  stages 
of  ripeness,  but  that  did  not  seem  to  matter  at 
all,  and  cocoa-picking  appeared  always  going  on. 

Those  drives  up  the  valleys  were  always  delightful, 
and  we  found  that  different  patois  seemed  to  be 
spoken  in  places  half  a  mile  apart  and  with  only  a 
low  ridge  between.  Up  one  valley  a  sort  of  spurious 
Spanish  would  be  heard,  up  another  Creole  French, 
whilst  a  hybrid  Hindustani  was  the  language  of  a 
third  cleft  in  the  hills.  We  made  great  friends, 
however,  with  the  different  races,  and  the  children 
always  rushed  out  to  greet  us. 

An  especial  beauty  of  those  valleys  were  the 
fire-flies  and  what  are  locally  called  the  fire-beetles 
— large  hard-backed  creatures  with  eyes  like  gig 
lamps  and  a  third  light  beneath,  which  only  shows 


TRINIDAD  173 

when  they  fly.  My  ardent  desire  all  the  time  I 
was  in  Trinidad  was  to  get  a  specimen  of  a  rare 
fire-beetle,  which  is  said  to  have  a  luminous  pro- 
boscis. I  did  want  that  beetle  dreadfully,  and 
offered  frantic  rewards  all  up  the  valleys  for  a 
specimen.  Needless  to  say  I  was  regarded  more 
or  less  as  a  lunatic,  and  the  carriage  was  often 
stopped  either  by  children  waving  an  ordinary 
beetle  snapping  violently  in  its  efforts  to  escape,  or 
by  a  grinning  policeman  who  saluted  and  tendered 
me  a  common  fire-beetle  tied  up  in  a  corner  of 
his  blue  pocket-handkerchief.  I  once  tracked  with 
infinite  pains  and  trouble  a  specimen  to  its  owner, 
but,  alas  !  it  was  dead  and  half-eaten  by  ants. 

By  the  first  week  in  January  the  fire-flies  dis- 
appear, and  are  not  to  be  seen  again  before  the 
heavy  May  rains  have  fallen.  Then  they  come 
forth  in  full  beauty,  and  it  certainly  is  a  wonderful 
sight  as  one  drives  home  in  the  short  gloaming, 
for  every  blade  of  grass  holds  many  tiny  sparkles, 
winking  in  and  out  with  a  bewildering  effect.  The 
fire-beetles  chiefly  haunt  the  lower  branches  of 
the  cocoa  groves,  where  they  look  like  small  lamps 
swinging  among  the  trees.  Indeed  the  magnifying 
effect  of  the  damp  atmosphere  beneath  these 
bushes  is  so  powerful  that  I  often  found  it  difficult 
to  believe  that  some  one  carrying  a  lantern  was 
not  stepping  down  the  bank  towards  us.  I  once 
kept  some  of  these  beetles,  fed  them  with  sugar- 


174  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

cane,  and  sprinkled  them  with  water  every  day  ; 
but  they  soon  lost  their  brilliancy,  and  I  felt  it 
so  cruel  to  retain  them  in  a  dark  prison,  that  I 
emptied  them  on  the  Thunbergia  outside  the 
verandah  railing.  One  of  my  prettiest  girl-guests 
used  often  to  wear  a  dagger  in  her  hair  made  of 
these  fire-beetles,  ingeniously  harnessed  together  with 
black  thread,  and  they  showed  brilliantly  amid  her 
dark  braids,  even  beneath  the  ballroom  chandeliers, 

Nor  did  any  winter  visitor  ever  see  the  wonderful 
mass  and  succession  of  flowering  trees,  for  they 
do  not  cover  themselves  with  sheets  of  brilliant 
blossom  until  after  the  rainy  season  begins.  I  was 
disappointed  in  the  actual  flowers  to  be  found  in 
the  Gardens.  Even  the  imported  ones  do  not 
manage  much  of  a  blossom,  and  bulbs,  &c.,  have 
to  wage  an  incessant  warfare  against  the  all-devour- 
ing ant.  It  is  for  this  reason  I  suspect  that  the 
flowers  confine  themselves  to  high  trees,  where  they 
are  safe  from  the  ants,  for  they  certainly  make 
but  a  languid  attempt  to  grow  in  the  ground.  In 
vain  I  steeped  the  seeds  of  my  particular  favourites 
in  a  strong  solution  of  quassia.  That  was  all  very 
well  for  the  actual  seed,  but  the  ants  only  deferred 
their  meal  until  my  poor  little  plants  were  a  couple 
of  inches  high. 

I  will  not  dwell  here  on  my  private  sentiments 
regarding  the  cockroaches,  for  I  feel  that  I  should 
pass  the  grounds  of  permissible  invective  if  I 


TRINIDAD  175 

attempted  to  describe  my  feelings  towards  the 
creatures  who  devoured  or  defaced  the  bindings 
of  all  my  favourite  books.  Nothing  daunts  them 
or  keeps  them  away ;  they  seem  to  thrive  and 
fatten  on  all  the  destructive  powders  of  which  I 
used  to  lay  in  large  stores  for  their  undoing.  They 
would  take  the  poison  and  the  cover  of  my  book 
as  well,  and  ask  for  more !  How  can  you  deal 
with  creatures  who  fly  in  at  the  window  and  run, 
literally,  like  "  greased  lightning  "  ?  Their  fiendish 
cleverness  must  be  seen  to  be  believed  ;  how  they 
will  dart  to  a  knot  of  exactly  their  own  colour 
in  the  polished  wooden  floor,  and  lie  still  as  death 
under  your  eyes  ! 

Next  to  the  cockroaches  might  be  ranked  as 
irrepressible  torments  the  mole-crickets,  who  would 
not  allow  of  a  lawn  anywhere.  There  were  some 
beautiful  grass  tennis  courts  in  these  Botanical 
Gardens,  costing  an  appalling  sum  to  keep  in 
tolerable  order — thanks  to  the  crickets  which 
burrow  like  moles  and  devour  like  locusts  and 
hatch  out  in  myriads.  I  used  often  to  see  a  small 
army-corps  of  little  black  boys  on  the  tennis  grounds 
headed  by  tall  coolies  with  watering-pots  of  strong 
soapsuds  which  they  poured  on  the  ground.  This 
douche  brought  the  mole-cricket  out  of  his  hall 
door  in  a  great  hurry,  to  be  snapped  up  and  flung 
into  a  bucket  of  water  by  the  attendant  imp.  But 
it  was  very  difficult  to  keep  them  down,  even  by 


176  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

these  means,  and  the  lawns  had  to  be  dug  up  and 
replanted  constantly.  It  is  impossible  to  keep 
the  rapacious  insect-world  in  order  in  a  climate 
which,  for  certainly  half  the  year,  resembles  an 
orchid-house  watered  and  shut  up  for  the  night. 

The  Harlequin  beetle  is,  no  doubt,  quite  as 
destructive  as  his  less  gaudy  brethren,  but  one 
forgives  him  a  good  deal,  partly  because  of  his 
brilliant  beauty,  and  partly  because  his  depreda- 
tions are  carried  on  chiefly  underground.  Then 
the  shady  places  are  always  made  glorious  by 
large  slow-moving  butterflies  of  gorgeous  colouring 
and  quaint  conceit,  such  as  transparent  round 
windows  let  in,  as  it  were,  amid  their  brilliant 
markings. 

Any  one  who  fears  bats  should  not  visit  "  le're, 
or  the  home  of  the  humming-bird  "  (as  the  Indians 
told  Sir  Walter  Raleigh  Trinidad  was  called),  for 
all  sorts  and  conditions  of  bats  abound.  The 
fruit-eating  variety  is  greatly  attracted  to  the 
Botanical  Gardens  by  the  star-apple  trees  growing 
there.  I  always  feared  lest  sentence  should  be 
passed  against  these  beautiful  trees  with  their 
copper-beech-like  foliage,  on  account  of  the  bats, 
who,  by  the  way,  don't  seem  ever  to  eat  the  fruit 
where  it  grows,  but  always  carry  it  off  and  devour 
it  in  another  tree.  The  Vampire  bat  is  a  great  deal 
bigger  than  the  ordinary  bat,  but  mosquito  netting 
is  quite  sufficient  protection  in  a  house,  and  the 


TRINIDAD  177 

stables  are  generally  guarded  by  galvanised  wire 
netting,  and  if  ordinary  care  is  taken  about  not 
leaving  stable-doors  open  after  sundown,  the  horses 
do  not  suffer  ;  but  when  did  a  negro  groom  ever 
think  of  a  detail  of  that  sort  ? 

It  was  very  amusing  to  watch  the  native  bees 
going  back  to  their  hive  at  dusk.  I  don't  know 
how  they  had  been  persuaded  to  take  up  their 
abode  in  a  box  fastened  against  the  wall  of  the 
Superintendent's  office  in  the  Botanical  Gardens  ; 
but  the  colony  was  in  a  very  flourishing  condition 
when  I  was  taken  to  view  it  at  sundown,  and  it  had 
evidently  established  Responsible  Government.  The 
bees  themselves  were  small  and  shabby,  regarded 
as  bees,  and  did  not  trouble  to  make  more  honey 
than  enough  for  their  daily  needs  ;  they  scouted 
the  idea  of  storing  it,  for  there  were  lots  of  flowers 
all  the  year  round,  and  no  wintry  weather  to  provide 
against.  Their  chief  anxiety  seemed  to  be  to  keep 
their  hall-door  shut,  and  they  were  very  particular 
on  that  point.  When  I  was  watching  them,  the 
great  mass  of  the  bees  had  already  gone  into  the 
hive,  and  only  an  occasional  loiterer  was  to  be  seen 
creeping  in  at  a  very  small  hole. 

"  Now  here  comes  the  last  bee,"  said  my  com- 
panion. "  Look  carefully  at  him."  So  I  did, 
and  saw  that  the  little  creature  was  carrying  a 
pellet  of  mud  nearly  as  big  as  himself.  It  was 
too  big  to  go  in  at  the  hole,  so  he  had  to  break  bits 

M 


178  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

off ;  but  he  twice  picked  up  some  of  the  fragments 
which  had  fallen  down,  and  stuffed  them  also  into 
the  hole.  Then  he  went  in  himself,  and  the  Super- 
intendent opened  a  sliding  panel  commanding  a 
view  of  this  hall-door,  at  which  three  or  four  bees 
were  busily  working,  blocking  it  up  with  the  mud 
pellets. 

"  They  do  that  eVery  night,"  I  was  told,  "  and 
open  it  the'  first  thing  in  the  morning."  I  wanted 
very  much  to  know  what  would  happen  if  any 
belated  bee  turned  up  afterwards,  but  the  story 
did  not  say. 

English  bees  were  introduced  into  the  island 
many  years  ago,  but  they  have  lost  most  of  their 
thrifty  ways,  and  become  demoralised  by  the 
flower  wealth  all  the  year  round.  They  also  decline 
to  be  confined  in  hives,  which  I  dare  say  they  find 
too  hot,  and  so  they  build  wherever  they  like. 
An  enormous  colony  had  settled  years  and  years 
before,  evidently,  under  the  flooring  of  one  of  the 
cool  north  verandahs  of  Government  House.  As 
long  as  they  went  in  and  out  from  outside  it  did 
not  matter,  but  latterly  they  took  to  pervading 
the  verandah  inside  and  violently  assaulting  the 
passers-by.  This  was  too  much  to  bear  often,  so 
the  house-carpenter  and  his  assistants  were  set 
to  work  to  prise  up  the  boards  of  the  verandah. 
They  chose  a  cloudy  day  when  the  bees  would  be 
out,  taking  advantage  of  the  comparative  coolness, 


TRINIDAD  179 

but  they  soon  found  that  many  boards  had  to 
come  up,  for  the  comb  was  thickly  formed  every- 
where. At  last  all  the  verandah  floor  was  up,  and 
I  certainly  never  saw  such  a  sight.  Yards  and 
yards  of  comb !  Most  of  it  black  and  useless, 
nearly  all  quite  empty  of  honey  (that  was  for  fear 
of  the  ants),  and  hardly  any  bee-bread  even.  When 
the  men  went  away  to  their  breakfast  the  orioles, 
who  must  have  been  watching  the  proceedings 
with  deep  interest,  came  down  from  the  Flamboyant 
outside  the  window,  and  had  a  sumptuous  break- 
fast oft  the  immature  bees.  There  was  a  terrible 
revenge,  however,  when  the  bees  returned  later, 
and  the  workmen  had  to  retreat  hastily.  I  found 
upon  that  occasion  that  silver  quarter-dollars  made 
the  best  salve  for  bee-stings. 

When  we  first  we'nt  to  Trinidad  our  evening 
drives  often  led  us  past  fields  of  sugar-cane,  which 
seemed  even  then  fast  falling  out  of  cultivation, 
and  long  before  we  left — in  1896 — they  had  been 
replaced  by  plantations  of  Guinea  grass,  which 
appeared  to  thrive  extremely  well,  and  for  which 
there  was  an  excellent  market  in  and  near  Port 
of  Spain.  The  land  was  evidently  worn  out  for 
sugar-cane,  but  answered  capitally  for  this  tall  grass, 
on  which  all  four-footed  beasts  seem  to  thrive. 

Much  has  been  written  and  preached  about  the 
terrible  fondness  of  the  West  Indian  negro  for 
smart  clothes  ;  but  if  he  had  not  that  passion — 


i8o  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

with  which  surely  the  modern  fine  lady  can  well 
sympathise — it  would  be  extremely  difficult  to  get 
him  or  her  to  work.  Why  should  he,  in  a  climate 
where  bodily  exertion  is  very  undesirable,  and 
where  food  and  shelter  grow,  so  to  speak,  by  the 
roadside  ? 

They  expend  vast  sums  on  their  wedding  fes- 
tivities, at  which  the  guests  are  expected  to  appear 
in  perfectly  new  garments.  I  once  offered  a  comely 
young  black  housemaid  leave  of  absence  to  go 
to  her  brother's  marriage,  but  she  declined  on  the 
score  of  expense.  Now  I  had  seen  this  girl,  a  week 
or  two  before,  very  smartly  dressed  for  a  friend's 
wedding,  so  1  said  : — 

"  But  surely  you  have  still  got  that  beautiful 
hat  and  frock  you  wore  at  Florinda's  marriage  the 
other  day  ?  " 

Aurelia  gave  me  a  shocked  glance  as  she 
answered  : — 

"  Oh,  lady,  me  can't  wear  that  !  " 

"  Why  not  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  All  peoples  very  much  offended  if  I  wear  same 
dress  to  their  wedding  ;  must  be  quite  new  every 
things." 

And  nothing  I  could  urge  had  the  least  effect 
in  shaking  her  resolution  not  to  disgrace  her  family 
by  appearing  in  garments  which  had  done  duty 
before  on  a  similar  occasion.  I  always  noticed  at 
the  cathedral  that  every  female  member  of  the 


TRINIDAD  181 

very  large  and  devout  coloured  congregation  had 
on  her  head  a  hat  which  must  have  cost  a  good 
deal  more  than  my  own  bonnet.  From  a  picturesque 
point  of  view  the  effect  of  the  coloured  women's 
spotlessly  clean  white  dresses  and  brilliantly  flowered 
and  ribboned  hats  was  excellent,  though  doubtless 
the  political  economist  would  have  sighed.  I  once 
asked  a  friend  where  and'  how  these  smart  damsels 
obtained  their  patterns,  for  nothing  could  be  more 
correct  or  up-to-date  than  their  skirts  and  their 
sleeves. 

"  Oh,  the  washerwomen  set  the  fashions  here, 
especially  yours.  It  is  very  simple  :  when  you 
send  a  blouse  or  a  muslin  or  cotton  dress  to  the 
wash — and  these  women  wash  beautifully — the 
laundress  calls  in  her  friends  and  neighbours,  and 
they  carefully  study  and  copy  that  garment  before 
you  see  it  again  ;  and  the  same  thing  happens  with 
the  gentlemen's  tennis  flannels,  and  other  garments." 

But  the  most  amusing,  and  absolutely  true,  story 
I  heard  was  this  one  : — 

Our  house  steward  told  me  that,  when  he  was 
superintending  tKe  moving  of  our  numerous  boxes 
and  packages  on  the  return  from  our  short  annual 
visit  to  England,  he  noticed  on  the  wharf  one  of 
the  young  black  men  employed  who  was  unusually 
active  in  dealing  with  the  luggage.  Nothing  could 
be  a  greater  contrast  to  the  ordinary  sleepy  loafer, 
who  used  to  smoke  and  talk  a  good  deal  more  than 


182  COLONIAL  MEMORIES 

he  worked.  This  youth  was  strong  and  smiling, 
and  made  nothing  of  handling  any  big  boxes  which 
came  in  his  way,  so  most  travellers  rewarded  his 
good-humoured  exertions  by  an  extra  sixpence  for 
himself. 

A  couple  of  years  later  Mark  was  missing  from 
the  landing  jetty.  No  one  knew  what  had  become 
of  him,  nor  could  the  most  anxious  inquiries  elicit 
any  information.  At  last  one  day,  when  my  in- 
formant was  in  one  of  the  principal  "  Stores,"  as 
the  excellent  and  comprehensive  shops  of  Port  of 
Spain  are  called,  there  suddenly  entered  his  friend 
Mark,  smiling  as  ever,  and  still  dressed  in  his 
primitive  working  garments  of  three  old  sacks — 
two  for  his  "  divided  skirts,"  and  one  with  a  hole 
cut  in  it  for  his  head  to  go  through,  and  worn  as  a 
sleeveless  smock-frock.  Before  any  questions  could 
be  asked,  Mark  took  one  of  the  assistants  aside, 
and  began  to  choose,  very  carefully  and  deliberately, 
an  entire  outfit  of  black  cloth  clothes.  He  evi- 
dently knew  exactly  what  he  wanted,  and  paid  for 
each  article,  as  he  selected  it,  from  a  roll  of  five- 
dollar  notes,  which,  for  want  of  a  pocket,  he  carried 
in  his  hand.  The  broad-cloth  suit  was  followed 
by  other  indispensable  garments,  and  finally  a  pair 
of  lavender  gloves,  shining  boots,  a  tall  hat,  a 
slender  umbrella,  and  even  a  showy  gilt  watch- 
chain  were  purchased,  and  the  happy  possessor 
of  a  complete  rig-out  of  "  Europe  clothes  "  left  the 


TRINIDAD  183 

store  with  only  a  few  cents  to  put  in  his  new  and 
numerous  pockets.  He  was  often  seen  afterwards 
in  this  fine  suit  of  clothes  walking  about  the  Gardens 
when  the  band  was  playing,  but,  so  far  as  any  one 
knows,  he  has  never  done  a  stroke  of  work  since  ! 


XIII 
RODRIGUES 

"  THE  deaf,  cold  official  Ear  "  used  to  be  a  favourite 
phrase  in  the  Crown  Colonies  in  my  day,  and  re- 
ferred, of  course,  to  the  Ear  of  Downing  Street ; 
but  even  then  it  seemed  to  me  a  very  undeserved 
reproach,  for,  so  far  as  my  own  experience  went, 
or  rather  the  experience  of  my  dear  husband,  it 
was  only  necessary  to  bring  a  grievance — small  or 
large — before  that  much-abused  department  for 
at  least  an  attempt  to  be  made  to  remedy  it 
directly. 

Take  the  case  of  Rodrigues  as  an  example.  It 
had  been  for  many  years  a  "  most  distressful " 
dependance  of  Mauritius.  Once  upon  a  time — 
early  in  the  nineteenth  cetitury — it  was  a  favourite 
sanatorium  of  the  East  Indian  squadron,  and 
ships  were  constantly  calling  there  to  leave  sick  or 
wounded  sailors  and  take  away  the  convalescents. 
For,  until  1814  brought  peace  and  the  Treaty  of 
Paris,  a  good  deal  of  fighting  went  on  in  that  part 
of  the  Indian  Ocean,  Bourbon  and  L'lle  de  France 
being  the  prizes  of  the  victor. 


RODRIGUES  185 

Apropos  of  those  same  prizes,  I  have  always 
heard  that  L'lle  de  France,  as  Mauritius  used  to 
be  called  in  those  days,  was  only  captured  by 
stratagem,  and  that  its  protecting  circle  of  reefs, 
quite  as  effectual  as  a  chain  of  torpedoes,  had  kept 
the  British  frigates  cruising  outside  for  many  a 
weary  day.  There  was  no  reliable  chart,  and, 
naturally,  no  pilot  was  forthcoming.  At  last, 
very  early  one  morning,  a  pirogue  was  sighted,  and 
a  smart  man-of-war's  boat  intercepted  it  before 
the  shelter  of  the  coral  girdle  could  be  gained. 
Its  solitary  occupant  was  a  young  fisherman,  who 
was  directly  taken  to  the  admiral's  ship,  and,  with 
great  difficulty  and  with  the  aid  of  what  was  to 
him  an  enormous  bribe,  persuaded  to  guide  the 
landing-party's  boats  through  difficult  passages 
to  a  suitable  and  unexpected  landing-place.  The 
choice  lay  between  that  and  death,  and  the  lad 
chose  life  and  wealth.  But  I  was  assured  that  from 
that  day  to  this  the  poor  man  and  his  descendants 
had  been  regarded  as  outcasts,  with  whom  no  one 
in  the  conquered  island  would  have  any  dealings. 

Then,  as  to  Bourbon,  the  story  goes  that  it  was 
given  back  to  the  French  by  that  same  Treaty 
of  Paris  owing  to  a  mistaken  idea  at  our  own 
Colonial  Office  thiat  it  was  a  West  Indian  island, 
instead  of  lying  only  a  hundred  miles  south  of 
Mauritius.  So  ever  since  1814  poor  little  Rodrigues 
has  been  deserted  by  her  naval  visitors,  and  Port 


1 86  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

Mathurin  had  welcomed  only  two  men-of-war  in  the 
sixty-five  years  which  had  passed  before  our  visit. 

The  real  bad  times,  however,  set  in  with  the 
abolition  of  slavery,  for  it  is  the  sort  of  climate 
where  one  need  not  work,  or  only  work  very  little, 
to  live.  The  sugar  and  coffee  estates  soon  fell 
out  of  cultivation,  as  did  the  cotton  and  even  the 
vanilla  bean,  which  grows  so  easily,  and  the  island 
seems  to  have  come  in  for  more  than  its  fair  share 
of  hurricanes.  Then  the  want  of  communication 
and  a  market  for  exports  completed  the  tale  of  its 
trouble ;  and  when  an  unusually  dry  season  killed 
the  rice  crops,  something  very  like  a  famine  set  in. 
This  had  happened  several  times  before  our  day, 
and  relief  for  the  moment  had,  of  course,  been  sent. 

But  when,  one  day  in  the  middle  of  the  hur- 
ricane season  of  1881,  a  wretched  little  open  boat 
struggled  across  the  350  miles  of  Indian  Ocean, 
bringing  the  island  pilot  and  another  sailor  with 
a  piteous  tale  sent  by  the  magistrate  in  charge, 
of  the  hunger  and  distress  which  prevailed  in 
Rodrigues,  the  Lieutenant-Governor  of  Mauritius 
felt  that  nothing  but  a  personal  visit  and  inquiry 
into  the  cause  of  the  constantly  recurring  evil 
would  satisfy  his  Government.  So  an  application 
was  made  at  once  through  the  Colonial  Office  for 
the  loan  of  a  man-of-war  to  visit  the  afflicted  little 
island.  There  was  no  telegraph  nearer  than  Aden 
twenty-three  years  ago,  so,  although  the  matter 


RODRIGUES  187 

was  taken  in  hand  at  once  in  Downing  Street,  it 
was  early  in  June  of  the  same  year  before  it  could 
be  finally  arranged.  A  small  gunboat  was  all  that 
had  been  asked  for,  and  lo  !  the  flagship  herself — 
the  stately  Euryalus — was  put  at  the  Lieutenant- 
Governor's  disposal  through  the  courtesy  of  the 
admiral  of  the  East  Indian  station,  who  made 
an  official  visit  of  his  own  to  Madagascar  fit  in 
with  the  date  of  the  proposed  trip  to  Rodrigues. 

I  have  felt  this  little  explanation  to  be  necessary 
of  how  we  came  to  be  standing  on  the  poop  of 
H.M.S.  Euryalus  that  lovely  afternoon  of  June — the 
best  mid-winter  month.  Our  party  had  been  kept 
as  small  as  possible,  for  there  was  only  the  accom- 
modation reserved  for  the  admiral  and  his  flag- 
lieutenant  vacant,  and  our  good  bishop  had  begged 
to  come  to  look  after  the  spiritual  needs  of  his 
small  flock  in  that  distant  part  of  his  diocese. 

The  scene  is  still  vividly  before  me  ;  the  pro- 
found calm  of  everything  after  the  noise  and  bustle 
of  our  reception  on  board  were  over,  of  which  the 
only  trace  was  the  smoke  of  the  saluting  cannon 
still  curling  over  the  calm  water.  We  seemed  to 
be  stationary,  and  the  lovely  hills,  with  their  deep 
purple  shadows,  their  glistening  waterfalls,  and 
the  vivid  green  of  the  fields  of  sugar-cane  in  the 
valleys,  appeared  to  be  slowly  gliding  away  under 
the  most  exquisite  sunset  sky.  But  all  too  soon 
the  Euryalus  had  made  her  way  through  the 


i88  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

crowded  harbour  of  Port  Louis  to  what  seemed 
a  gate  in  the  wall  of  coral  reef,  and  headed,  a  few 
moments  later,  out  to  sea.  A  sea  beautiful  to 
behold,  indeed,  but  of  so  rough-and-tumble  a  nature 
that  the  dinner-party  that  evening  was  but  small. 
In  fact  few  of  our  party  showed  up  much  during 
the  three  days  of  alternate  rolling  and  pitching 
across  that  rough  bit  of  water,  with  a  strong  head- 
wind from  south-east.  We  had  really  been  making 
the  best  of  our  way  all  the  time  because  the  captain 
was  very  anxious  to  get  in  early  on  the  28th  to 
celebrate  her  Majesty's  coronation.  No  sooner, 
therefore,  had  we  dropped  anchor  in  the  open 
roadstead  opposite  Port  Mathurin  than  the  royal 
standard  flew  out  from  our  main,  and  the  gallant 
old  ship  was,  in  a  moment,  dressed  from  stern  to 
bow  in  gay  flags.  At  noon  a  royal  salute  pealed 
out  over  the  water — but  this  is  anticipating  a 
little,  for  long  before  noon  every  available  boat 
was  crowding  round  the  Euryalus.  The  magistrate 
had  come  on  board  directly ;  so  had  two  very 
agreeable  Roman  Catholic  priests.  Every  one  con- 
cerned in  the  matter  was  soon  deep  in  the  arrange- 
ment of  details  connected  with  our  official  landing. 

As  I  had  nothing  to  do  except  to  put  on  my  best 
bonnet  at  the  proper  time,  I  had  plenty  of  leisure 
to  admire  the  tiny  island,  which,  with  no  other 
land  to  dwarf  it,  looked  quite  imposing  from  the 
deck  of  the  Euryalus.  It  was  difficult  to  believe 


RODRIGUES  189 

that  the  highest  hill  I  could  see  was  only  1800  feet 
above  the  sea-level,  for  the  beautiful  clear  atmos- 
phere seemed  to  magnify  everything,  as  if  one  were 
looking  at  it  through  water.  And  there  were 
ravines  plainly  marked,  each  with  its  little  tumbling 
cascade,  and  a  great  deal  of  bright  green  foreground, 
which  we  afterwards  found  was  not  the  inevitable 
sugar-cane,  but  a  coarse,  rather  rank  grass,  afford- 
ing excellent  grazing  for  cattle.  Indeed,  Rodrigues 
could  supply  Mauritius  entirely  with  beef  if  only 
there  were  proper  communication,  but  as  matters 
then  stood  our  supply  used  to  come  chiefly  from 
Madagascar  by  weekly  steamer. 

It  was  really  like  an  English  April  day,  even  to 
the  bite  in  the  air  whenever  the  sun  was  absent 
during  the  constant  scudding  squalls — squalls  which 
kept  the  poor  reception  committee  in  a  state  of 
anguish  and  anxiety  not  to  be  described.  Most  of 
them  had  come  on  board  to  arrange  details,  and 
were  condemned  to  watch  their  beautiful  arches 
and  masts  and  flags  being  most  roughly  handled 
by  the  sou'-wester.  I  did  my  best  to  comfort  any 
one  who  came  my  way  by  predictions  of  a  fine 
afternoon,  and  to  assure  them  that  business — stern, 
serious  business — was  the  real  object  of  the  visit. 
The  heart-breaking  part  of  it  all,  however,  was  to 
find  that  the  entire  population  of  Rodrigues  in- 
sisted on  regarding  the  gaily-dressed  ship,  the 
royal  salute,  even  the  royal  standard,  as  all  being 


190  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

part  and  parcel  of  the  show,  and  in  the  Lieutenant- 
Governor's  honour.  I  never  can  forget  the  horrified 
faces  both  of  poor  dear  F.  and  the  flag-captain  of 
the  Euryalus  when  this  fact  dawned  on  them. 
They  were  quite  tragic  over  it,  and  thought  me 
most  heartless  for  laughing  at  the  mistake. 

The  alternations  of  sun  and  shower  showed  up 
with  curious  clearness  the  water-path  which  a  boat 
would  need  to  follow  between  the  ship  and  the 
shore.  It  was  traced  quite  distinctly,  as  if  in  a 
very  devious  track  of  indigo,  through  the  bright 
blue  water  and  the  white  tips  breaking  on  the 
coral  reefs,  whilst  every  here  and  there  a  wee  islet, 
on  which  earth  and  grass-seed  were  quickly  finding 
their  way,  had  pushed  its  head  up.  It  seerned 
an  object-lesson  on  the  very  beginning  of  things. 
The  worst  of  all  this  was  that  the  big  ship  could  not 
come  at  all  near  the  shore,  and,  as  we  were  always 
to  sleep  on  board,  the  little  voyage  twice  a  day 
entailed  a  good  deal  of  forethought  on  account  of 
the  tide. 

However,  both  weather  and  tide  were  highly 
favourable  by  three  o'clock  that  same  afternoon, 
when  the  official  landing  took  place  with  perfect 
success.  I  could  not  help  glancing  triumphantly 
at  the  now  radiant  reception  committee"  as,  with 
hardly  a  breath  of  air  stirring  and  not  a  cloud  in 
the  sky,  we  stepped  out  of  the  admiral's  barge. 
Needless  to  say,  the  entire  population  of  Rodrigues 


RODRIGUES  191 

were  crowded  on  the  little  wharf,  which  was  gaily 
carpeted  with  red  and  roofed  with  palm  branches. 
Even   the   two   condamne's,   representing   the   evil- 
doers of  the  community,  stood  in  the  background 
in  friendly  converse  with  their  gaoler,  who  would 
not  on  any  account  miss  the  show.     Our  friend 
the  pilot  was  there  also  in  great  form,  and  it  seemed 
he  had  been  taking  to  himself  the  credit  of  having 
arranged  the  visit.     He  was  not  in  carpet  slippers 
this  time,  however,  which  was  a  pity  ;    for,  if  he 
had  only  known  it,  the  carpet  slippers  in  which  he 
had    been    forced    to    present   himself   before    the 
Lieutenant-Governor,  after  his  terrible  voyage  in 
February,  had,  as  he  called  it,  dbimed,  his  feet,  and, 
adding  a  certain  dramatic  touch  of  reality  to  the 
tale  of  suffering — counted  for  something  in  the  end. 
A  resplendent  guard  of  honour  of  Marines  had 
preceded  us,  and  so  had  the  ship's  band.      "  Ces 
Messieurs  avec  les  trompettes  "  became  at  once  first 
favourites,  and  remained  so  to  the  end.     Primitive 
and  friendly  as  it  all  was,  there  yet  was  no  escaping 
the  inevitable  addresses,  which  had  to  be  in  French, 
as  that  is  really  the  language  of  the  little  island, 
though  I  fear  it  was  not  of  the  purest  Parisian  type. 
Happily,  I  could  perceive  no  traces  of  famine  or 
even  of  hard  times  in  the  crowds  which  surrounded 
us.     All  seemed  fat,  and  buxom,  and  beaming.     I 
looked  anxiously  at  the  children,  for  I  remember 
the  heart-breaking  sight  the  poor  little  ones  had 


192  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

presented  when  I  had  passed  through  an  Indian 
famine  district  long  years  before  the  Rodrigues 
visit.  These  babies  were  as  plump  as  ortolans, 
and  as  merry  as  crickets. 

Friendly  and  almost  universal  handshaking 
brought  the  affair  to  an  end — "  une  vraie  fete  de 
famille,"  as  I  heard  it  called — and  we  were  free 
to  adjourn  to  the  magistrate's  pretty  house  for  a 
welcome  cup  of  tea.  The  moment  it  had  been 
hastily  swallowed  and  F.  had  got  out  of  his  gold- 
laced  coat,  he  and  the  magistrate  adjourned  to 
the  little  court-house  close  by  and  plunged  at  once 
into  business,  being  with  difficulty  hailed  forth  in 
time  to  return  on  board  for  a  very  late  dinner. 
Nothing  had  any  effect  on  their  movements  except 
threats  of  the  falling  tide.  In  fact,  the  state  of  the 
tide  governed — not  to  say  tyrannised  over — our 
arrangements  that  whole  week.  "  Pray  be  punctual 
to-morrow  morning,  on  account  of  the  tide,"  was 
the  last  thing  I  heard  at  night,  and  no  engagement 
on  shore  could  be  made  until  the  state  of  the  water 
at  a  given  hour  was  ascertained.  In  spite,  how- 
ever, of  punctuality  and  care,  we  had  to  make  some 
ridiculous  trajets,  beginning  in  great  pomp  in  the 
admiral's  barge,  changing  half-way  into  smaller 
boats,  then  into  canoes,  and  finally  being  piloted 
through  the  shallows  standing  on  a  tiny  plank  laid 
across  a  stout  leaf  and  propelled  by  a  swimmer ;  yet 
one  always  arrived  dry-shod  though  much  agitated. 


RODRIGUES  193 

We  had  only  a  very  few  days  to  stay  in  Rodrigues, 
for  the  Euryalm  had  to  return  to  Madagascar  to 
pick  up  her  admiral ;  but  there  were  two  things 
which  must  absolutely  be  accomplished  during  our 
visit.  One  was  an  expedition  to  "  The  Mountain  " 
to  visit  the  good  priests  and  make  a  closer  ac- 
quaintance with  the  needs  of  that  particular  district, 
and  the  other  was  to  have  a  day's  sport.  This,  I 
must  add,  was  chiefly  in  the  interests  of  our  kind 
naval  hosts,  for  I  honestly  believe  that  both  F. 
and  the  magistrate  would  have  greatly  preferred 
a  long  and  happy  day  in  the  court-house,  hard 
at  work. 

The  mountain  excursion  entailed  our  leaving  the 
ship  at  eight  o'clock  of  a  lovely  morning.  In  fact, 
the  bad  weather  seemed  to  have  ceased  with  our 
landing,  and  it  proved  ideally  calm  and  beautiful 
all  that  week.  As  no  wheeled  vehicle,  or  horse 
to  draw  it,  exists  on  Rodrigues,  chaises  a  porteurs 
were  provided  for  the  two  ladies  of  the  party, 
and  all  the  gentlemen  walked.  For  the  first  five 
miles  the  road  was  excellent,  having,  indeed,  been 
a  "  relief  work  "  during  one  of  the  famines.  It 
zigzagged  up  the  steep  hill-sides  very  easily,  and 
wound  through  natural  groves  of  oranges  and 
lemons,  plantains  and  palms,  which  afforded  a 
welcome  shade.  The  small  houses — cases,  as  they 
are  called — looked  trim  and  pretty,  each  with  its 
"  provision  ground  "  of  yams  and  sweet  potatoes, 

N 


194  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

and  one  soon  got  high  enough  to  look  over  them 
on  to  the  little  town  nestling  among  trees,  with 
large  patches  of  bright  green  grass  between  it  and 
the  sea.  The  Euryalus  made  a  stately  object  in 
the  foreground,  and  dwarfed  the  little  fishing- 
boats  and  pirogues  which  swarmed  around  her 
to  the  size  of  toys.  I  noticed  that  the  sails  of 
these  tiny  craft  were  stained  with  much  the  same 
vivid  colours  one  sees  at  Chioggia,  and  the  colour- 
ing of  both  sky  and  sea  was  truly  Italian,  as  were 
the  "  soft  airs  of  Paradise,"  which  made  walking 
a  pleasure. 

Still,  many  halts  were  called,  ostensibly  to 
admire  the  charming  panorama,  but  also  to  pick 
wild  oranges  and  other  juicy  fruits.  Flowers,  more 
or  less  wild,  grew  in  profusion  all  round  us,  and 
I  was  soon  laden  with  beautiful  blossoms. 

We  were  already  a  large  party  when  we  started, 
and  our  enormous  "  tail "  increased  as  we  passed 
through  each  hamlet.  The  last  part  of  the  road 
proved  merely  a  mountain  track  over  rough 
boulders,  and  all  felt  glad  when  the  hill-top  was 
reached  and  we  were  once  more  on  a  tolerably 
level  track.  The  village  of  Gabrielle  appeared 
to  have  availed  itself  of  every  inch  of  cover  from 
the  summer  hurricanes,  and  each  ravine  or  dip 
in  the  ground  was  occupied  by  a  little  case  and 
garden.  A  fine  triumphal  arch  awaited  us  here, 
beneath  which  stood  the  two  abbes,  with  the 


RODRIGUES  195 

whole  population  of  the  district  as  a  background. 
Such  a  smiling  crowd,  and  such  a  cordial  welcome  ! 

After  the  inevitable  address,  an  attempt  was 
made  to  raise  "  le  God-save  "  (as  it  is  always  called 
in  Mauritius),  but  its  tones  were  wavering  and 
uncertain,  and  the  tune  showed  a  tendency  to 
turn  into  the  "  Old  Hundredth,"  so  it  was  some- 
what of  a  relief  when  it  was  succeeded  by  a 
local  hymn  of  welcome,  which  they  all  knew,  and 
which  was  given  with  great  heartiness  and  lung 
power.  The  refrain  "  Et  vivat !  et  vivat !  "  was 
most  spirited,  and  went  really  welL 

By  this  time,  however,  we  all  felt  very  hungry, 
and  were  glad  to  be  taken  to  the  presbytery,  close 
to  the  little  chapel,  where  dejeuner  awaited  us. 
Wild  kid,  poultry,  eggs,  and  fruit  made  up  an 
excellent  meal,  followed  by  perfect  coffee ;  and 
then  the  serious  business  of  the  day  began. 

I  betook  myself  to  the  sheltered  side  of  a  case, 
where  I  could  view  the  sort  of  open-air  meeting 
which  was  going  on  to  leeward  of  the  chapel,  and 
of  which  F.  and  the  priests  formed  the  central 
figures.  An  interpreter  had  to  be  found,  for  the 
island  has  a  patois  of  its  own,  different  even  from 
that  of  Mauritius.  This  interpreter  was  an  Irish- 
man, and  his  gestures  were  so  dramatic  that  I 
could  really  make  a  good  guess  at  the  story  which 
was  being  unfolded  ;  but  I  felt  somewhat  puzzled 
when,  towards  the  end,  he  flung  his  old  hat  on 


196  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

the  ground  and  danced  on  it.  I  wondered  if  he 
was  asking  for  Home  Rule  !  All  the  men  in  the 
settlement  had  crowded  round  F.  and  the  priests, 
so  I  found  myself  the  centre  of  a  large  gathering 
of  the  women  of  Gabrielle,  Children  were  there 
in  numbers,  but  had  no  chance  of  getting  near  me, 
and  there  was  always  the  difficulty  of  the  language. 
What  my  smiling  jet-black  friends  seemed  most 
curious  about  was  my  "  civil  status,"  and  that  of 
the  other  lady.  "  Madame  ou  Ma'amzelle  ?  "  was 
the  incessant  question  to  both  of  us.  I  singled 
out  one  extraordinarily  ugly  but  beaming  and 
big,  fat  girl  to  put  the  same  question  to,  and  I  can 
never  forget  the'  droll  air  of  coquetry  with  which 
she  laid  one  black  finger  against  an  equally  black 
cheek,  turned  her  head  aside,  and  murmured  bash- 
fully, "  Moi,  je  suis  Modeste." 

This  out-of-door  parliament  lasted  a  couple  of 
hours,  and  by  that  time  all  the  burning  questions 
and  even  the  grievances  had  been  laid  before  the 
Lieutenant-Governor,  and  it  was  necessary  to 
make  a  start  if  we  were  to  catch  the  tyrant  tide. 
So  the  procession  re-formed,  only  with  the  chaises 
a  porteurs  left  out,  for  we  ladies  preferred  to  walk 
down,  especially  at  first ;  and  off  we  set,  the  priests 
leading,  our  little  party  next,  and  a  dense  crowd 
everywhere.  They  all  sang  hymns,  winding  up 
with  the  first  we  had  heard,  and  lusty  shouts  of 
"  Et  vivat !  et  vivat !  "  pursued  us  almost  to  the 


RODRIGUES  197 

bottom  of  the  hill.  Never  was  a  more  affectionate 
leave-taking,  and  the  expressions  of  gratitude  to 
F.  for  the  trouble  he  had  taken  were  really  most 
touching.  We  carried  the  dear  abbes  back  to  dine 
on  board  with  us,  as  there  was  yet  much  to  be 
discussed. 

The  next  day  was  supposed  to  be  one  of  rest  as 
far  as  exercise  went,  and  whilst  F.  was  busy  indoors 
with  work,  I  was  taken  by  the  magistrate's  wife 
round  the  little  town  of  Port  Mathurin  to  visit 
the  school  and  the  tiny  hospital,  as  well  as  to  return 
the  calls  of  some  of  the  leading  ladies.  It  is  a 
very  healthy  island  apparently,  much  more  so  than 
Mauritius,  but  then  it  is  not  so  desperately  over- 
crowded as  its  big  sister.  The  chief  complaint  I 
heard  was  of  the  idleness  and  inertia  of  the  people 
themselves,  and  of  how  difficult  it  was  to  induce 
them  to  do  anything  except  dawdle  —  good- 
humouredly  enough — through  their  lives.  Of  course, 
this  partly  accounts  for  the  famine  and  distress. 
They  just  live  from  day  to  day,  and  make  no  sort 
of  provision  for  even  the  morrow,  still  less  the 
rainy  or  hurricane  day. 

There  certainly  was  no  inertia,  however,  on  the 
part  of  the  children  at  a  christening  service  the 
bishop  held  in  the  schoolroom  that  afternoon. 
Such  vigorous  protests  against  the  sacred  rite 
could  not  be  imagined,  and  it  was  difficult  to  get 
through  it  on  account  of  the  noise  of  the  children's 


198  COLONIAL  MEMORIES 

shrieks.  The  mothers  did  not  seem  in  the  least 
distressed  or  alarmed  at  the  outcries  of  their  off- 
spring ;  indeed,  one  black  lady  remarked  to  me 
— I  was  the  universal  godmother — "  C'est  peut- 
£tre  M.  le  Diable  qui  s'en  va  ?  "  I  can't  think 
why  the  children  were  so  terrified,  because  the 
bishop  christened  the  babies  first,  and  all  was  calm 
and  holy  peace  until  I  attempted  to  lead  up  a 
small  boy  of  about  four  years  old.  He  started 
a  wild  yell  and  frantic  struggles,  in  which  all 
the  others  joined,  till  at  last  I  felt  inclined  to 
take  part  in  the  chorus  of  sobs  myself.  The 
bishop's  tact  and  gentle  patience  were  marvel- 
lous, but  did  not  avail  to  allay  the  fears  of  the 
neophytes. 

Our  last  day  at  Rodrigues  held,  indeed,  hard 
work,  for  we  spent  it  from  an  early  hour  en  chasse, 
the  paraphernalia  of  which  might  have  served  for 
at  least  a  small  punitive  expedition.  Such  muni- 
tions of  war,  in  the  shape  of  guns  and  cartridges ! 
and  the  commissariat  was  on  an  equally  liberal 
scale.  This  excursion  took  us  quite  to  the  other 
side  of  the  island,  and  we  crossed  a  little  bay  to 
get  to  it,  so  a  small  fleet  of  fishing-boats  had  been 
commandeered  for  the  occasion.  This  brought  us 
in  touch  with  most  of  the  fisherfolk,  and  F.  seized 
the  opportunity  of  thoroughly  investigating  their 
needs  and  wants. 

There  is  really  a  good  deal  of  game  on  the  island  ; 


RODRIGUES  199 

deer,  partridges,  and  wild  guinea-fowl  were  pro- 
mised us  ;  but,  alas  !  we  had  reckoned  without 
the  first  lieutenant  of  the  Euryalus,  who  availed 
himself  of  our  absence  to  have  a  thoroughly  happy 
day  with  his  big  guns,  the  noise  of  which  drove 
every  beast  and  bird  as  far  away  as  possible.  How- 
ever, there  was  still  the  long  delightful  day  in  the 
open  air,  and  it  was  always  possible  to  get  shade 
beneath  the  vacoas,  a  sort  of  palm,  common  also 
in  Mauritius,  of  whose  fibre  sacks,  baskets,  and 
lots  of  useful  things  are  made.  But  the  Latanier 
is  the  maid-of-all-work  among  palms.  All  the 
little  cases  are  built  and  thatched  with  it,  its  fibre 
makes  excellent  rope,  and  doubtless  it  could  be 
turned  to  many  other  uses. 

In  spite  of  our  really  enormous  luncheon,  we 
were  bidden  to  a  banquet  on  our  return  to  Port 
Mathurin,  and  that  day  actually  ended  with  a 
ball !  We  had  made  ourselves  independent  of  the 
tyranny  of  the  tide  for  once,  and  had  brought  our 
evening  things  on  shore  with  us,  so  a  very  sunburnt 
and  sleepy  group  in  uniforms  and  ball  dresses 
made  the  best  of  their  way  on  foot  to  the  court- 
house somewhere  about  nine  o'clock,  and  absolutely 
danced  with  spirit  and  vigour  until  the  coxswain 
put  his  head  in  at  the  door  and  murmured,  "  Tide's 
falling,  sir."  It  was  just  about  midnight,  and  we 
all  fled  like  so  many  Cinderellas.  No  need  to 
wrap  up,  for  a  lace  scarf  was  sufficient  on  such 


200  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

a  balmy  night,  and  the  moonlight  felt  quite 
warm. 

We  certainly  would  not  have  been  allowed  to 
take  so  hurried  a  departure  had  it  not  been  settled 
that  we  were  to  breakfast  on  shore  next  morning 
and  make  our  real  farewells  then.  The  guard  of 
honour  and  the  trompettes  preceded  us  once  more, 
and  there  was  a  sort  of  attempt  at  an  official 
"  send-off."  But  the  islanders  took  the  matter 
into  their  own  hands  this  time,  and  I  really  believe 
every  human  being  in  Rodrigues  came  to  see  us 
off,  and  to  thank  and  bless  "  Excellence  "  for  having 
paid  them  so  long  a  visit.  The  condamnes 
were  there  too,  and  solemnly  promised  me  to  be 
models  of  good  behaviour  for  the  future.  My 
numerous  god-children  were  now  (scantily)  clothed, 
but  in  their  right  minds,  and  their  mothers  tried 
hard  to  get  them  to  express  their  regret  for  having 
been  si  mechant ;  but  that  part  of  the  perform- 
ance did  not  come  off.  However,  they  got  their 
bags  of  sugar  plums  all  the  same. 

The  inevitable  address  was  got  through  in  dumb 
show,  and  we  were  followed  not  only  to  the  water's 
edge  but  into  the  water  itself  by  the  affectionate 
farewells  of  all  the  poor  people.  It  was  so  touch- 
ing, the  way  they  brought  gifts.  Modes te  was  there 
with  oranges  and  eggs  in  each  hand.  Indeed,  I 
may  mention  here  that  eggs,  however  fresh,  are 
very  embarrassing  tokens  of  affection  when  given 


RODRIGUES  201 

in  dozens.  I  presented  all  mine  to  the  fo'castle, 
as  well  as  sundry  sacks  of  oranges  ;  and  as  for 
my  bouquets,  they  would  have  stocked  a  flower- 
shop.  It  was  quite  with  difficulty  we  pushed  off 
at  last.  Fortunately,  the  tide  allowed  the  admiral's 
barge  to  come  up  to  the  little  jetty,  for  I  am  sure 
if  we  had  started  on  a  palm  leaf,  as  we  sometimes 
did,  there  would  have  been  disasters  and  wet  feet, 
to  say  the  least  of  it. 

By  the  time  the  Euryalus  was  reached,  she  was 
found  to  be  ringed  round  by  boats  of  all  sorts  and 
sizes,  and  it  was  quite  difficult  to  get,  first  on  board 
and  then  off.  "  Et  vivat !  "  rang  out  in  great 
force  on  every  side,  and  even  a  tremulous  "  God- 
save  "  ;  but  the  hearty  thanks  and  benedictions 
were  the  pleasantest  sounds.  At  last  the  screw 
turned,  and  the  fine  old  ship  headed  once  more 
for  the  wide  ocean.  The  boats  and  waving  kerchiefs 
were  soon  dwarfed  into  so  many  dots  on  the  dancing 
waves,  and  in  an  hour  or  two  we  had  looked  our 
last  on  Rodrigues. 

The  wind  was  fair  for  going  back,  and  the  voyage 
proved  quite  smooth  as  well  as  very  pleasant. 
"  Ces  Messieurs  avec  les  trompettes  "  discoursed 
delightful  music  to  us  after  dinner,  and  the  soft 
moonlight  lasted  all  the  way  back.  The  dear  old 
Euryalus  has  gone  the  way  of  old  ships,  but  has 
happily  left  a  smart  successor  to  her  name  and 
fame.  Regular  communication  (that  is  to  say, 


202  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

as  regular  as  the  hurricanes  will  allow)  has  been 
established  with  Rodrigues,  and  it  must  be  more 
prosperous,  for  I  see  by  the  latest  returns  that 
the  population  has  doubled  itself  since  that  de- 
lightful visit. 


XIV 
COLONIAL   SERVANTS 

MY  very  first  experience  of  the  eccentricities  of 
colonial  servants  dates  a  good  deal  more  than  half  a 
century  ago,  and  the  scene  was  laid  in  Jamaica,  where 
my  father  then  held  the  office  of  "  Island  Secretary  " 
under  Sir  Charles — afterwards  Lord  Metcalfe — the 
Governor.  It  was  Christmas  day,  and  I  had  been 
promised  as  a  great  treat  that  my  little  sister  and 
I  should  sit  up  to  late  dinner.  But  the  morning 
began  with  an  alarm,  for  just  at  breakfast- time  an 
orderly  from  one  of  the  West  Indian  regiments, 
then  stationed  in  Spanish  Town,  had  brought  a 
letter  to  my  father  which  had  been  sent  upstairs 
to  him.  I  was  curled  up  in  a  deep  window-seat 
in  the  shady  breakfast- room,  enjoying  a  brand-new 
story-book  and  the  first  puffs  of  the  daily  sea-breeze, 
when  I  heard  a  guttural  voice  close  to  my  ear 
whispering,  "  Kiss,  missy,  kiss."  There  stood  what 
seemed  a  real  black  giant  compared  with  my  childish 
stature,  clad  in  gorgeous  Turkish-looking  uniform 

with   a  big  white  turban  and  a  most  benignant 

203 


204  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

expression  of  face,  holding  his  hand  out,  palm 
upwards. 

I  gazed  at  this  apparition — for  I  had  only  just 
returned  to  Jamaica — with  paralysed  terror,  while 
the  smiling  ogre  came  a  step  nearer  and  repeated 
his  formula  in  still  more  persuasive  tones.  At 
this  moment,  however,  my  father  appeared  and 
said,  "  Oh  yes,  all  right ;  he  wants  you  to  give  him 
a  Christmas-box.  Here  is  something  for  him."  It 
required  eve'n  then  a  certain  amount  of  faith  as  well 
as  courage  to  put  the  silver  dollar  into  the  out- 
stretched palm,  but  the  man's  joy  and  gratitude 
showed  the  interpretation  had  been  quite  right. 
I  did  not  dare  to  say  what  my  alarm  had  conjured 
up  as  the  meaning  of  his  request,  for  fear  of  being 
laughed  at. 

As  well  as  I  remember,  at  that  Christmas  dinner- 
party— and  it  was  a  large  one — the  food  was  dis- 
tinctly eccentric,  edibles  usually  boiled  appearing 
as  roasts  and  vice  versa.  The  service  also  was  of  a 
jerky  and  spasmodic  character,  and  the  authorities 
wore  an  air  of  anxiety,  which,  however,  only  added 
to  the  deep  interest  I  took  in  the  situation.  But 
things  came  to  a  climax  when  the  plum-pudding, 
which  was  to  have  been  the  great  feature  of  the 
entertainment,  did  not  appear  at  its  proper  time 
and  place,  and  a  tragic  whisper  from  the  butler 
suggested  complications  in  the  background.  My 
father  said  laughingly,  "I  am  sorry  to  say  the 


COLONIAL   SERVANTS  205 

cook  is  drunk  and  will  not  part  with  the  plum- 
pudding,"  so  we  went  on  with  the  dinner  without 
it.  But  just  as  the  dessert  was  being  put  on  the 
table  there  was  a  sound  as  of  ineffectual  scrimmaging 
outside,  and  the  cook — a  huge  black  man  clad  in  spot- 
less white — rushed  in  bearing  triumphantly  a  large 
dish,  which  he  banged  down  in  front  of  my  father, 
saying,  "  Dere,  my  good  massa,  dere  your  pudding," 
and  immediately  flung  himself  into  the  butler's  arms 
with  a  burst  of  weeping.  I  shall  always  see  that 
pudding  as  long  as  I  live.  It  was  about  the  size  of 
an  orange  and  as  black  as  coal.  Every  attempt  to 
cut  it  resulted  in  its  bounding  off  the  dish,  for  it 
was  as  hard  as  a  stone.  Though  not  exactly  an 
object  of  mirth  in  itself,  it  certainly  was  "  a  cause 
that  mirth  was  in  others,"  and  so  achieved  a  success 
denied  to  many  a  better  pudding. 

Several  years  passed  before  I  again  came  across 
black  servants,  and  the  next  time  was  in  India.  I 
was  not  there  long  enough,  nor  did  I  lead  a  suffi- 
ciently settled  life,  to  be  able  to  judge  of  the  Indian 
servant  of  that  day.  Half  my  stay  in  Bengal  was 
spent  under  canvas,  and  certainly  the  way  in  which 
the  servants  arranged  for  one's  comfort  under  those 
conditions  was  marvellous.  The  camp  was  a  very 
large  one,  for  we  were  making  a  sort  of  military 
promenade  from  Lucknow  up  to  Lahore — my 
husband  being  the  Commanding  Officer  of  Royal 
Artillery  in  Bengal — but  I  only  went  as  far  as  the 


206  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

foot  of  the  Hills  and  then  up  to  Simla.  It  was 
amazing  the  way  in  which  nothing  was  ever  for- 
gotten or  left  behind  during  four  months'  continuous 
camp-life.  All  my  possessions  had  to  be  divided, 
and,  where  necessary,  duplicated,  for  what  one  used 
on  Monday  would  not  be  get-at-able  until  Wednes- 
day, and  so  on  all  through  the  week.  No  matter 
how  interesting  my  book  was,  I  could  not  go  on 
with  it  for  thirty-six  hours — i.e.  from,  say  Monday 
night  till  breakfast- time  on  Wednesday  morning. 
I  could  have  a  new  volume  for  Tuesday,  but  the 
interest  of  that  had  also  to  remain  in  abeyance 
until  Thursday.  Still,  I  would  find  the  book  pre- 
cisely where  I  laid  it  down,  and  if  I  had  put  a  mark, 
even  a  flower,  it  would  be  found  exactly  in  the 
right  place. 

I  always  wondered  when  and  how  the  servants 
rested,  for  they  seemed  to  me  to  be  packing  and 
starting  all  night  long,  and  yet  when  the  new 
camping-ground  was  reached  the  head-servants 
would  always  be  there  in  snowy  garments,  as  fresh 
and  trim  as  if  they  came  out  of  a  box.  There  were 
two  sets  of  under-servants,  but  the  head  ones  never 
seemed  to  be  off  duty. 

We  started  with  the  first  streak  of  daylight,  and 
there  was  no  choice  about  the  matter,  for  if  you 
did  not  get  up  when  the  first  bugle  blew,  your  plight 
would  be  a  sorry  one  when  the  canvas  walls  of  the 
large  double  tent  fell  flat  at  the  sound  of  the  second 


COLONIAL   SERVANTS  207 

bugle,  half-an-hour  later.  The  roof  of  the  tent  was 
left  a  few  moments  longer,  so  one  had  time  for 
hot  fragrant  coffee  and  bread  and  butter  before 
starting  either  on  horse  or  elephant  back.  I  gene- 
rally rode  on  a  pad  on  the  hathi's  back  for  the  first 
few  miles  while  it  was  still  dark,  and  mounted  my 
little  Arab  some  six  or  eight  miles  further  on.  The 
marches  were  as  near  twenty-five  miles  daily,  as 
could  be  arranged  to  suit  the  Commander-in-Chief  s 
convenience  as  to  inspections,  &c. 

Everything  was  fresh  and  amusing,  but  I  think 
I  most  delighted  in  seeing  the  modes  of  progression 
adopted  by  the  various  cooks.  Our  head-cook 
generally  requisitioned  a  sort  of  gig,  in  which  he 
sat  in  state  and  dignity,  with  many  bundles  heaped 
around  him.  Part  of  his  cavalcade  consisted  of 
two  or  three  very  small  ponies  laden  with  paniers, 
on  top  of  which  invariably  stood  a  chicken  or  two, 
apparently  without  any  fastenings,  who  balanced 
themselves  in  a  precarious  manner  according  to  the 
pony's  gait.  No  one  seemed  to  walk  except  those 
who  led  the  animals,  and  as  the  camp  numbered 
some  5000  soldiers  and  quite  as  many  camp-fol- 
lowers the  supply- train  appeared  endless. 

Just  as  we  neared  the  foot  of  the  Himalayan 
range,  where  the  camp  was  to  divide,  some  of  us 
going  up  to  Simla,  leaving  a  greatly  lessened  force 
to  proceed  to  Lahore,  smallpox  appeared  among 
our  servants.  I  wonder  it  did  not  spread  much 


2o8  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

more,  but  it  was  vigorously  dealt  with  at  the  out- 
set. I  had  as  narrow  an  escape  as  anybody,  for  one 
morning,  while  I  was  drinking  my  early  coffee  and 
standing  quite  ready  to  start  on  our  daily  march, 
one  of  the  servants,  a  very  clever,  useful  Madras 
"  boy  "  whom  I  had  missed  from  his  duties  for 
several  days,  suddenly  appeared  and  cast  himself 
at  my  feet,  clutching  my  riding-habit  and  begging 
for  some  tea.  He  was  quite  unrecognisable,  so 
swollen  and  disfigured  was  his  poor  face,  and  I 
had  no  idea  what  was  the  matter  with  him.  He 
was  delirious  and  apparently  half -mad  with  thirst. 
The  doctor  had  to  be  fetched  to  induce  him  to  let 
me  go,  and  as  more  than  once  the  poor  lad  had 
seized  my  hands  and  kissed  them  in  gratitude  for 
the  tea  I  at  once  gave  him,  I  suppose  I  really  ran 
some  risks,  for  it  turned  out  to  be  a  very  bad  case 
of  confluent  smallpox.  However,  all  the  same,  he 
had  to  be  carried  along  with  us  in  a  dhooly  until 
we  reached  a  station  where  he  could  be  put  into 
a  hospital. 

But  certainly  the  strangest  phase  of  colonial 
domestics  within  my  experience  were  the  New 
Zealand  maid-servants  of  some  thirty-five  years 
ago.  Perhaps  by  this  time  they  are  "  home-made," 
and  consequently  less  eccentric  ;  but  in  my  day 
they  were  all  immigrants,  and  seemed  drawn  almost 
entirely  from  the  ranks  of  factory  girls.  They  were 
respectable  girls  apparently,  but  with  very  free  and 


COLONIAL   SERVANTS  209 

easy  manners.  However,  that  did  not  matter. 
What  seriously  inconvenienced  me  at  the  far  up- 
country  station  where  my  husband  and  I  had  made 
ourselves  a  very  pretty  and  comfortable  home  was  the 
absolute  and  profound  ignorance  of  these  damsels. 
They  took  any  sort  of  place  which  they  fancied, 
at  enormous  wages,  and  when  they  had  at  great 
cost  and  trouble  been  fetched  up  to  their  new  home 
I  invariably  discovered  that  the  cook,  who  demanded 
and  received  the  wages  of  a  chef,  knew  nothing 
whatever  of  any  sort  of  cooking  and  the  housemaid, 
had  never  seen  a  broom.  They  did  not  know  how 
to  thread  a  needle  or  wash  a  pocket-handkerchief, 
and,  as  I  thought,  must  have  been  waited  on  all 
their  lives.  Indeed,  one  of  my  great  difficulties  was 
to  get  them  away  from  the  rapt  admiration  with 
which  they  regarded  the  most  ordinary  helps  to 
labour.  One  day  I  heard  peals  of  laughter  from 
the  wash-house,  and  found  the  fun  consisted  in  the 
magical  way  in  which  the  little  cottage-mangle 
smoothed  the  aprons  of  the  last  couple  of  damsels. 
So  I — who  was  extremely  ignorant  myself,  and  had 
no  idea  how  the  very  beginnings  of  things  should 
be  taught — had  to  impart  my  slender  store  of 
knowledge  as  best  I  could.  The  little  establishment 
would  have  collapsed  entirely  had  it  not  been  for 
my  Scotch  shepherd's  wife,  a  dear  woman  with  the 
manners  of  a  lady  and  the  knowledge  of  a  thorough 
practical  housewife.  What  broke  our  hearts  was 

o 


210  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

that  we  had  to  begin  this  elementary  course  of  in- 
struction over  and  over  again,  as  my  damsels  could 
not  endure  the  monotony  of  their  country  life  longer 
than  three  or  four  months,  in  spite  of  the  many 
suitors  who  came  a-wooing  with  strictly  honourable 
intentions.  But  the  young  ladies  had  no  idea  of 
giving  up  their  liberty,  and  turned  a  deaf  ear  to 
all  matrimonial  suggestions,  even  when  one  athletic 
suitor  put  another  into  the  water-barrel  to  get  him 
out  of  the  way,  and  urged  that  this  step  must  be 
taken  as  a  proof  of  his  devotion. 

After  the  New  Zealand  experiences  came  a  period 
of  English  life,  and  I  felt  much  more  experienced 
in  domestic  matters  by  the  time  my  wandering  star 
led  me  forth  once  more  and  landed  me  in  Natal. 
In  spite,  however,  of  this  experience,  I  fell  into  the 
mistake  of  taking  out  three  English  servants,  whom 
I  had  to  get  rid  of  as  soon  as  possible  after  my 
arrival.  They  had  all  been  with  me  some  time  in 
England,  and  I  thought  I  knew  them  perfectly  ; 
but  the  voyage  evidently  "  wrought  a  sea  change  " 
on  them,  for  they  were  quite  different  people  by 
the  time  Durban  was  reached.  Two  developed 
tempers  for  which  the  little  Maritzburg  house  was 
much  too  small,  and  when  it  came  to  carving-knives 
hurtling  through  the  air  I  felt  it  was  more  than  my 
nerves  could  stand.  The  third  only  broke  out  in 
folly,  and  showed  an  amount  of  personal  vanity 
which  seemed  almost  to  border  on  insanity.  How- 


COLONIAL  SERVANTS  211 

ever,  I  gradually  replaced  them  with  Zulu  servants, 
in  whom  I  was  really  very  fortunate.  They  learned 
so  easily,  and  were  so  good-tempered  and'  docile, 
their  only  serious  fault  being  the  ineradicable 
tendency  to  return  for  a  while — after  a  very  few 
"  moons  "  of  service — to  their  kraals.  At  first  I 
thought  it  was  family  affection  which  impelled  this 
constant  homing,  but  it  was  really  the  desire  to 
get  back  to  the  savage  life,  with  its  gorges  of  half- 
raw  meat  and  native  beer,  and  its  freedom  from 
clothes.  It  is  true  I  had  an  occasional  very  bad 
quarter  of  an  hour  with  some  of  my  experiments, 
as,  for  instance,  when  I  found  an  embryo  valet 
blacking  his  master's  socks  as  well  as  his  boots,  or 
detected  the  nurse-boy  who  was  trusted  to  wheel 
the  perambulator  about  the  garden  stuffing  a  half- 
fledged  little  bird  into  the  baby's  mouth,  assuring 
me  it  was  a  diet  calculated  to  make  "  the  little 
chieftain  brave  and  strong." 

I  think,  however,  quite  the  most  curious  instance 
of  the  thinness  of  surface  civilisation  among  these 
people  came  to  me  in  the  case  of  a  young  Zulu  girl 
who  had  been  early  left  an  orphan  and  had  been 
carefully  trained  in  a  clergyman's  family.  She 
was  about  sixteen  years  old  when  she  came  as  my 
nursemaid,  and  was  very  plump  and  comely,  with 
a  beaming  countenance,  and  the  sweetest  voice  and 
prettiest  manners  possible.  She  had  a  great  love 
of  music,  and  performed  harmoniously  enough  on 


212  COLONIAL    MEMORIES 

an  accordion  as  well  as  on  several  queer  little  pipes 
and  reeds.  She  could  speak,  read,  and  write  Dutch 
perfectly,  as  well  as  Zulu,  and  was  nearly  as  pro- 
ficient in  English.  She  carried  a  little  Bible  always 
in  her  pocket,  and  often  tried  my  gravity  by  dropping 
on  one  knee  by  my  side  whenever  she  caught  me 
sitting  down  and  alone,  and  beginning  to  read  aloud 
from  it.  It  was  quite  a  new  possession,  and  she 
had  not  got  beyond  the  opening  chapters  of  Genesis 
and  delighted  in  the  story  of  "Dam  and  Eva,"  as 
she  called  our  first  parents.  She  proved  an  ex- 
cellent nurse  and  thoroughly  trustworthy ;  the 
children  were  devoted  to  her,  especially  the  baby, 
who  learned  to  speak  Zulu  before  English,  and  to 
throw  a  reed  assegai  as  soon  as  he  could  stand 
firmly  on  his  little  fat  legs.  I  brought  her  to 
England  after  she  had  been  about  a  year  with  me, 
and  she  adapted  herself  marvellously  and  un- 
hesitatingly to  the  conditions  of  a  civilisation  far 
beyond  what  she  had  ever  dreamed  of.  After  she 
had  got  over  her  surprise  at  the  ship  knowing  its 
way  across  the  ocean,  she  proved  a  capital  sailor. 
She  took  to  London  life  and  London  ways  as  if  she 
had  never  known  anything  else.  The  only  serious 
mistake  she  made  was  once  in  yielding  to  the 
blandishments  of  a  persuasive  Italian  image-man 
and  promising  to  buy  his  whole  tray  of  statues. 
I  found  the  hall  filled  with  these  works  of  art, 
and  "  Malia "  tendering,  with  sweetest  smiles,  a 


COLONIAL  SERVANTS  213 

few  pence  in  exchange  for  them.  It  was  a  dis- 
agreeable job  to  have  to  persuade  the  man  to 
depart  in  peace  with  all  his  images,  even  with  a 
little  money  to  console  him.  A  friend  of  mine 
chanced  to  be  returning  to  Natal,  and  proposed 
that  I  should  spare  my  Zulu  nurse  to  her.  Her 
husband's  magistracy  being  close  to  where  Maria's 
tribe  dwelt,  it  seemed  a  good  opportunity  for 
"  Malia  "  to  return  to  her  own  country  ;  so  of 
course  I  let  her  go,  begging  my  friend  to  tell  me 
how  the  girl  got  on.  The  parting  from  the  little 
boys  was  a  heart-breaking  scene,  nor  was  Malia 
at  all  comforted  by  the  fine  clothes  all  my  friends 
insisted  on  giving  her.  Not  even  a  huge  Gains- 
borough hat  garnished  with  giant  poppies  could 
console  her  for  leaving  her  "  little  chieftain " ; 
but  it  was  at  all  events  something  to  send  her  off 
so  comfortably  provided  for,  and  with  two  large 
boxes  of  good  clothes. 

In  the  course  of  a  few  months  I  received  a  letter 
from  my  friend,  who  was  then  settled  in  her  up- 
country  home,  but  her  story  of  Maria's  doings  seemed 
well-nigh  incredible,  though  perfectly  true. 

All  had  gone  well  on  the  voyage  and  so  long 
as  they  remained  at  Durban  and  Maritzburg ; 
but  as  soon  as  the  distant  settlement  was  reached, 
Maria's  kinsmen  came  around  her  and  began  to 
claim  some  share  in  her  prosperity.  Free  fights 
were  of  constant  occurrence,  and  in  one  of  them 


214  COLONIAL  MEMORIES 

Maria,  using  the  skull  of  an  ox  as  a  weapon,  broke 
her  sister's  leg.  Soon  after  that  she  returned  to 
the  savage  life  she  had  not  known  since  her  infancy, 
and  took  to  it  with  delight.  I  don't  know  what 
became  of  her  clothes,  but  she  had  presented  her- 
self before  my  friend  clad  in  an  old  sack  and  with 
necklaces  of  wild  animals'  teeth,  and  proudly  an- 
nounced she  had  just  been  married  "  with  cows  " 
— thus  showing  how  completely  her  Christianity 
had  fallen  away  from  her,  and  she  had  practically 
returned,  on  the  first  opportunity,  to  the  depth 
of  that  savagery  from  which  she  had  been  taken 
before  she  could  even  remember  it.  I  soon  lost 
all  trace  of  her,  but  Malia's  story  has  always  re- 
mained in  my  mind  as  an  amazing  instance  of 
the  strength  of  race-instinct. 

My  next  colonial  home  was  in  Mauritius,  and 
certainly  the  servants  of  that  day — twenty  years 
ago,  alas  ! — were  the  best  I  have  ever  come  across 
out  of  England.  I  am  told  that  this  is  no  longer 
the  case,  and  that  that  type  of  domestic  has  been 
improved  and  educated  into  half-starved  little 
clerks.  The  cooks  were  excellent,  so  were  the 
butlers.  Of  course,  they  had  all  preserved  the 
Indian  custom  of  "  dustoor  "  (I  am  not  at  all  sure 
of  the  spelling)  or  perquisite.  In  fact,  a  sort  of 
little  duty  was  levied  on  every  article  of  consump- 
tion in  a  household. 

I  never  shall  forget  the  agony  of  mind  of  one 


COLONIAL   SERVANTS  215 

of  my  butlers  at  having  handed  me  a  wrong  state- 
ment of  the  previous  day's  "  bazaar."  I  had 
really  not  yet  looked  at  it,  but  he  implored  me 
with  such  dreadful  agitation  to  let  him  have  it 
back  again  to  "  correct  "  that  I  read  it  aloud  before 
him,  to  his  utter  confusion  and  abasement.  The 
vendor  had  first  put  down  the  price  paid  him  for 
each  article,  and  then  the  "  dustoor  "  to  be  added  ; 
needless  to  say,  I  was  to  pay  the  difference,  and 
the  tax  had  been  amply  allowed  for  in  the  price 
charged.  As  "  Gyp  "  would  say,  Tableau  ! 

Curiously  enough,  it  was  the  dhoby  or  washer- 
man class  which  gave  the  most  or  rather  the  only 
trouble.  They — i.e.  the  washerman  and  his  numer- 
ous wives — fought  so  dreadfully.  Once  I  received 
a  petition  requesting  me  in  most  pompous  language 
to  give  the  youngest  or  "  last- joined  "  wife  a  good 
talking  to,  for  in  spite  of  all  corrections — that  is, 
beatings — she  declined  entirely  to  iron  her  share 
of  the  clothes,  and  had  the  effrontery  to  say  she 
had  not  married  an  ugly  old  man  to  have  to  work 
hard.  The  dhoby  on  his  side  declared  he  had 
only  incurred  the  extra  expense  and  bother  of  a 
fourth  and  much  younger  wife  in  order  that  the 
"  Grande  Madame' s  "  white  gowns  might  be  beauti- 
fully ironed,  fresh  every  day. 

I  handed  the  letter — almost  undecipherable  on 
account  of  its  ornate  penmanship  and  flourishes — 
to  the  A.D.C.  who  was  good  enough  to  help  me 


216  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

with  my  domestic  affairs,  and  he  must  have  arranged 
it  satisfactorily,  for  when  he  left  us  hurriedly  to 
rejoin  his  regiment,  which  had  been  ordered  on 
active  service,  he  received  a  joint  letter  of  adieu 
from  all  the  dhobies,  wishing  him  every  sort  of 
good  fortune  in  the  campaign,  and  expressing  a 
hope  that  he  might  soon  return  with  "  le 
croix  de  la  reine  Victoria  flottant  de  sa  casaque." 
Rather  a  confusion  of  ideas,  but  doubtless  well 
meant. 

In  spite,  however,  of  the  general  excellence  of 
Mauritius  servants,  my  very  dignified  butler  at 
Reduit  cost  me  the  most  trying  experience  of  my 
party-giving  career.  Once  upon  a  time  I  had  an 
archery  meeting  at  Reduit,  and  a  dance  after- 
wards for  the  young  people.  This  programme — 
combining,  as  it  did,  afternoon  and  evening  amuse- 
ments— required  a  certain  amount  of  organisation 
as  to  food.  The  shooting  was  to  go  on  as  long  as 
the  light  lasted,  and  it  was  thought  better  to  have 
the  usual  refreshments  in  the  tents  during  that 
time,  and  then  an  early  and  very  substantial  supper 
indoors  so  soon  after  the  dancing  began  as  the 
guests  liked  to  have  it. 

There  used  in  those  days  to  be  an  excellent 
restaurant  in  Port  Louis  which  furnished  all  the 
ball  suppers.  The  cost  was  high,  but  all  trouble 
was  saved,  and  the  food  provided  left  nothing  to 
be  desired.  The  manager  of  the  "  Flore  Mauri- 


COLONIAL   SERVANTS  217 

cienne  "  never  made  a  mistake,  and  only  needed 
to  be  told  how  many  guests  to  provide  for  ;  every- 
thing was  then  sure  to  be  beautifully  arranged. 
So  I  had  no  anxieties  on  the  score  of  ample  supplies 
of  every  obtainable  dainty  being  forthcoming. 
Great,  therefore,  was  my  surprise,  when,  after  the 
first  batch  of  guests  had  been  in  to  the  supper- 
room,  I  was  informed  in  a  tragic  whisper  that 
everything  looked  very  nice  in  there,  but  that 
there  was  no  second  supply  of  food  to  replenish  the 
tables.  This  seemed  impossible,  and  I  sent  for 
the  butler  and  demanded  to  know  what  had  become 
of  the  supper.  "  Monsieur  Jorge  "  smiled  blandly 
and,  waving  his  hands  in  despair,  ejaculated  "  Rien, 
rien,  Madame,"  repeatedly.  So,  although  I  had 
not  intended  to  go  in  to  supper  myself  just  then, 
I  fastened  to  the  scene.  There  were  the  lovely 
tables  as  usual,  a  mass  of  flowers  and  silver,  but 
with  empty  dishes.  I  felt  as  if  it  must  be  a  bad 
dream  from  which  I  should  presently  awake,  but 
that  did  not  make  it  less  terrible  at  the  moment. 
Of  course  the  A.D.C.s  were  active  and  energetic, 
but  they  could  not  perform  miracles  and  produce 
a  supper  which  they  had  themselves  ordered  and 
knew  had  arrived,  but  which  seemed  to  have 
vanished  into  thin  air.  Tins  of  biscuits  were  found 
and  sandwiches  were  hastily  cut,  and  every  one 
was  most  kind  and  good-natured  and  full  of  sym- 
pathy for  me. 


218  COLONIAL  MEMORIES 

If  "  Monsieur  Jorge  "  and  his  myrmidons  had 
appeared  in  the  least  tipsy,  the  situation  would 
have  been  less  perplexing,  but  except  a  profound 
and  impenetrable  gravity  of  demeanour  every 
servant  seemed  quite  right.  My  guests  danced 
merrily  away,  and  hunger  had  no  effect  on  their 
gay  humour,  but  the  staff  and  I  (who  had  had  no 
supper)  were  plunged  in  melancholy. 

The  moment  our  telegraph  clerk  came  on  duty 
next  morning  a  message  was  sent  to  Port  Louis 
(eight  miles  off)  asking  the  manager  of  the  "  Flore  " 
what  had  become  of  his  supper,  and  by  the  time 
I  came  down  to  breakfast  that  worthy  had  appeared 
on  the  scene,  and,  more  versed  in  the  ways  of 
Mauritian  servants  than  any  of  us  were,  had  elicited 
from  Monsieur  Jorge  that  he  remembered  putting 
the  numerous  boxes  of  supper  away  carefully, 
but  where,  he  could  not  imagine.  The  night  before 
he  had  insisted  that  he  had  placed  all  the  supper 
there  was,  on  the  tables.  So  a  search  was  instituted, 
and  very  soon  the  melancholy  remains  of  the  supper 
were  discovered  hidden  away  in  an  unused  room. 
All  the  packing  ice  had,  of  course,  melted,  and 
jellies,  &c.,  were  reduced  to  liquid.  There  was 
about  fifty  pounds'  worth  of  food  quite  spoiled 
and  useless,  most  of  it  only  fit  to  be  thrown  away. 
The  manager's  wrath  really  exceeded  mine,  and 
he  stipulated  that  not  one  of  the  crowd  of  servants 
should  have  a  crumb  of  the  remains  of  that  supper, 


COLONIAL  SERVANTS 

which  I  heard  afterwards  had  been  given  to  the 
garden  coolies.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  I  believe 
Monsieur  Jorge  was  somewhat  tipsy,  and  it  took 
the  form  of  complete  loss  of  memory.  But  it  was 
a  dreadful  experience. 

From  the  "belle  isle  de  Maurice"  we  went  to  Wes- 
tern Australia,  where  we  arrived  in  the  middle  of 
winter,  and  the  contrast  seemed  great  in  every  way, 
especially  in  the  domestic  arrangements,  for  ser- 
vants were  few  and  far  between  and  of  a  very  elemen- 
tary stamp  of  knowledge.  I  tried  to  remedy  that 
defect  by  importing  maid-servants,  but  succeeded 
only  in  acquiring  some  very  strange  specimens. 
In  those  days  Western  Australia  was  such  an  un- 
known and  distant  land  that  the  friends  at  home 
who  kindly  tried  to  help  me  found  great  difficulty 
in  inducing  any  good  servant  to  venture  so  far, 
and  although  the  wages  offered  must  have  seemed 
enormous,  the  good  class  I  wanted  could  not  at 
first  be  induced  to  leave  England.  Later,  things 
improved  considerably  and  we  got  very  good 
servants,  but  the  first  importations  were  very  dis- 
heartening. I  used  to  be  so  arrized  at  their  love 
of  finery.  To  see  one's  housemaid  at  church  abso- 
lutely covered  with  sham  diamonds,  large  rings 
outside  her  gloves,  huge  solitaire  earrings,  and  at 
least  a  dozen  brooches  stuck  about  her,  was,  to  say 
the  least  of  it,  startling ;  so  was  the  apparition  of 
my  head-cook,  whom  I  sent  for  hurriedly  once, 


COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

after  dinner,  and  who  appeared  in  an  evening 
dress  of  black  net  and  silver.  I  also  recognised 
the  kitchen-maid  at  a  concert  in  a  magnificent 
pale  green  satin  evening  dress,  which,  taken  in 
conjunction  with  her  scarlet  hair,  was  rather  con- 
spicuous. Of  one  gentle  and  timid  little  house- 
maid, who  did  not  dazzle  me  with  her  toilettes, 
I  inquired  what  she  found  most  strange  and  un- 
expected in  her  new  home — which,  by  the  way, 
she  professed  to  like  very  much. 

"  The  lemons,  my  lady,  if  you  please." 

"  Lemons  !  "  I  said ;  "  why  ?  " 

"  Well,  it's  their  growin'  on  trees  as  is  so  puzzlin' 
like,  if  you  please." 

"  Where  else  did  you  expect  them  to  grow  ?  " 
I  inquired. 

"  I  thought  they  belonged  to  the  nets.  I'd 
always  seen  them  in  nets  in  shops,  you  know ; 
and  lemons  looks  strange  without  nets." 

My  next  and  last  experience  of  colonial  servants 
was  in  Trinidad.  By  this  time  I  had  gained  so 
much  and  such  varied  experience  that  there  was 
no  excuse  for  things  not  working  smoothly,  and  as 
I  was  fortunate  in  possessing  an  excellent  head- 
servant  who  acted  as  house-steward  I  had  practi- 
cally no  trouble  at  all,  beyond  a  little  anxiety  at 
any  time  of  extra  pressure  about  the  head-cook, 
who  had  not  only  heart  disease,  but  when  drunk 
flew  into  violent  rages.  Our  doctor  had  warned 


COLONIAL   SERVANTS  221 

the  house-steward  that  this  man — who  was  a  half- 
caste  Portuguese  from  Goa — might  drop  dead  at 
any  moment  if  he  gave  way  to  temper  and  drink 
combined.  So  it  was  always  an  anxious  time  when 
balls  and  banquets  and  luncheons  followed  each 
other  in  quick  succession.  On  these  occasions, 
besides  his  two  permanent  assistants,  G.  was 
allowed  a  free  hand  as  to  engaging  outside  help. 
But  he  seemed,  to  take  that  opportunity  to  bring 
in  his  bitterest  foes,  to  judge  by  the  incessant 
quarrels,  all  of  long  standing,  which  poor  Mr.  V. 
(the  house-steward)  had  to  arrange.  I  only  did 
the  complimenting,  and  after  each  ball  supper  or 
big  dinner  sent  for  the  cook  and  paid  him  extrava- 
gant compliments  on  his  efforts.  That  was  the  only 
way  to  keep  him  going,  and  things  went  well  on 
the  surface  ;  but  there  were  tragic  moments  to  be 
lived  through  when  the  said  cook  had  refreshed 
himself  a  little  too  often,  and  about  midday  would 
declare  he  had  no  idea  what  all  these  people  were 
doing  in  his  kitchens,  and,  arming  himself  with  a 
rolling-pin,  would  drive  them  forth  with  much 
obloquy.  I  chanced  to  be  looking  out  of  my 
dressing-room  window  one  day  when  he  started 
a  raid  on  the  corps  cTarmee  of  black  girls  who 
were  busily  picking  turkeys  and  fowls  for  the 
next  night's  ball  supper.  I  never  saw  anything 
so  absurd  as  the  way  the  girls  fled  into  the 
neighbouring  nutmeg  -  grove,  each  clasping  her 


' 

)uiNiiQ 
Of  i" 


222  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

half -picked  fowls  and  scattering  the  feathers 
out  of  her  apron  as  she  ran  with  many  "  hi ! 
hi's ! " 

I  really  began  to  think  it  would  be  necessary 
to  summon  the  police  sentries  to  protect  them,  for 
G.  was  flinging  all  sorts  of  fruit  and  vegetables  at 
them,  and  had  quite  got  their  range.  However, 
as  Mr.  V.  emerged  from  his  office  and  began  to 
inquire  of  the  cook  if  he  was  anxious  to  die  on  the 
spot,  I  only  looked  on.  At  first  there  was  nothing 
but  rage  and  fury  on  the  cook's  part,  to  which 
Mr.  V.  opposed  an  imperturbable  calm  and  the 
emphatic  repetition  of  the  doctor's  warning.  Then 
came  a  burst  of  weeping,  caused,  G.  declared,  by 
his  sense  of  the  wickedness  of  the  human  race  in 
general  and  "  dem  girls  "  in  particular.  After  that 
a  deep  peace  seemed  to  suddenly  descend  on  the 
scene,  and  the  cook  returned  to  his  large  and  airy 
kitchens,  still  weeping  bitterly.  Mr.  V.  vanished, 
the  picking  girls  reappeared  one  by  one,  and,  cau- 
tiously looking  round  to  see  if  it  was  safe  to  do  so, 
took  up  their  former  positions  under  shady  trees. 
Presently  I  saw  other  forms  stealing  back  into  the 
kitchens,  from  which  they  too  had  been  forcibly 
ejected  ;  and  then  I  heard  the  cook's  voice  start 
one  of  Moody  and  Sankey's  hymns,  with  apparently 
fifty  verses  and  a  rousing  chorus.  After  that  I 
had  no  misgivings  as  to  the  success  of  the  supper. 

We  succeeded,  as  it  were,  to  most  of  our  servants, 


COLONIAL  SERVANTS  223 

for  they  had  nearly  all  been  at  Government  House 
for  some  years,  and  at  all  events  knew  their  duties. 
I  met  one  functionary,  whose  face  I  did  not  seem 
to  know,  on  the  staircase  one  day,  and  inquired 
who  he  was.  "  Me  second  butlare,  please,"  was  the 
answer.  The  first  "  butlare  "  was  an  intensely  re- 
spectable middle-age'd  man,  of  apparently  deeply 
religious  convictions,  and  I  always  saw  him  at 
church  every  Sunday,  and  he  was  a  regular  and 
most  devout  communicant.  Judge,  then,  of  my 
surprise  and  dismay,  when,  poor  Jacob  having  died 
rather  suddenly  of  heart  disease,  I  was  assured  that 
four  separate  and  distinct  Mrs.  Jacobs  had  appeared, 
each  clad  in  deepest  widow's  weeds,  and  each 
armed  with  orthodox  "  lines  "  to  claim  the  small 
arrears  of  his  monthly  pay.  But  I  am  afraid  that 
similar  inconsistencies  between  theory  and  practice 
are  by  no  means  uncommon  in  those  "  Summer 
Isles  of  Eden." 


XV 
•     INTERVIEWS 

MY  experience  of  being  interviewed  began  many 
years  before  the  invention  of  the  present  fashion 
of  demanding  from  perfect  strangers  answers  to 
questions  which  one's  most  intimate  friend  would 
hesitate  to  ask.  My  interviewers  had  not  the 
smallest  desire  to  be  informed  as  to  what  I  liked 
to  eat  or  drink,  or  at  what  hour  I  got  up  of  a  morning. 
The  conversation  on  these  occasions  used  to  be 
strictly  confined  to  my  visitor's  own  affairs.  Per- 
haps "  strictly  "  is  not  the  word  I  want,  for  I  well 
remember  that  my  greatest  difficulty  at  these  inter- 
views was  to  keep  the  information  showered  on 
me  at  all  to  the  subject  in  hand,  and  to  avoid 
incessant  parenthetical  reminiscences  of  bygone 
events. 

Both  in  Natal  and  Mauritius  we  lived  so  far 
away  from  the  town  that  it  was  too  much  trouble 
for  the  interviewer  to  seek  me  out,  nor  indeed  do 
I  remember  hearing  of  cases  which  needed  help  and 
advice  there  so  often  as  at  other  places. 

My  real  debut  in  being  interviewed  was  made  in 


INTERVIEWS  225 

Western  Australia  some  twenty  years  ago  in  the 
dear  old  primitive  days,  when  I  felt  that  I  was  the 
squire's  wife  and  the  rector's  wife  rolled  into  one, 
and  most  of  the  troubles  used  to  be  brought  straight 
to  me.  Indeed,  so  numerous  were  my  visitors  of 
this  class  that  a  special  room  had  to  be  set  aside 
in  which  to  receive  them  ;  and  certainly,  if  its  walls 
had  tongues  as  well  as  ears,  some  droll  confidences 
might  be  betrayed  by  them. 

But  I  must  confess  I  began  badly.  Almost  my 
first  visitor  in  that  room  was  a  "  pensioner's  " 
widow.  There  can  be  very  few  "  pensioners  "  left 
now,  for  fifteen  years  ago,  when  we  left  dear  Western 
Australia,  hardly  thirty  of  the  old  "  Enrolled 
Guard  "  survived.  The  colloquial  name  by  which 
they  were  known  in  those  latter  days  was  Pensioner, 
though  it  does  not  really  express  their  status. 

Fifty  years  ago  a  large  military  force  had  been 
sent  out  to  the  Swan  River  Settlement — all  that 
was  then  known  of  a  colony  now  a  million  square 
miles  in  extent — to  guard  the  convicts  asked  for 
by  the  first  settlers  to  help  them  to  make  roads 
and  bridges  and  public  buildings.  After  twenty 
years  the  deportation  of  convicts  to  Western 
Australia  ceased,  and  the  troops  "were  withdrawn. 

As,  however,  it  was  desirable  to  induce  respect- 
able settlers  to  make  the  colony  their  home,  special 
advantages  had  been  offered  to  soldiers  to  remain 
and  take  up  free  grants  of  land.  Many  of  those 

P 


226  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

who  had  wives  and  families  accepted  the  offer,  and, 
whenever  they  proved  to  be  sober  and  industrious 
men,  did  extremely  well.  In  addition  to  the  liberal 
grants  of  land,  each  man  was  given  a  small  pension, 
and  ever  since  the  convicts  left  his  military  functions 
had  been  confined  to  mounting  guard  at  Govern- 
ment House.  Even  that  slight  duty  came  to  an 
end,  however,  during  our  stay,  and  smart  young 
policemen  replaced  the  old  veterans  in  out-of-date 
uniforms,  their  breasts  covered  with  numerous 
medals  for  active  service  in  all  parts  of  the  globe. 

But  to  return  to  my  first  interviewer — an  old 
Irishwoman,  very  feeble  and  very  poor,  her  man 
long  since  dead,  and  the  children  apparently  scat- 
tered to  the  four  winds  of  heaven  ;  the  grant  of 
land  sold,  the  money  spent,  the  pension  always 
forestalled,  and  the  inevitable  objection  to  entering 
the  colonial  equivalent  for  "  the  House."  To  more 
practised  ears  it  would  no  doubt  have  sounded'  a 
suspicious  story,  but  it  went  to  my  heart,  and  I 
gave  the  poor  old  body  some  tea  and  sugar,  an 
order  for  a  little  meat,  and — fatal  mistake — a  few 
shillings.  Next  day  there  was  a  coroner's  inquest 
on  the  charred  remains  of  my  unfortunate  friend, 
who  had  got,  as  it  seems  she  usually  did,  very 
drunk,  and  had  tumbled  into  her  own  fireplace. 
Every  one  seemed  to  know  how  weak  and  foolish 
I  had  been  in  the  matter  of  even  that  small  gift 
of  money,  and  the  newspapers  hinted  that  I  must 


INTERVIEWS  227 

be  a  Political  Economist  of  the  lowest  type  !  So 
pensioners'  widows  tried  in  vain  to  "  put  the  com- 
mether  "  on  me  after  that  experience. 

"  If  you  please,  my  lady,  an  'Indoo  wants  to 
speak  to  you,"  ushered  in  a  little  later  my  next 
interviewer.  I  beheld  a  small,  trim,  and  cleanly 
clad  little  man  entering  at  the  door.  His  request 
was  for  a  pedlar's  licence.  I  timidly  pointed  out 
that  I  did  not  deal  in  such  things,  and  that  he  must 
have  been  wrongly  advised  to  apply  to  me  for  the 
document.  This  brought  on  a  rambling  story,  very 
difficult  to  comprehend  until  I  furbished  up  the 
scanty  remains  of  my  own  knowledge  of  Hindustani. 
I  then  gathered  that  my  friend  was  somewhat  of 
a  black  sheep  in  character  as  well  as  complexion, 
and  had  so  indifferent  a  record  in  the  police  sheets 
that  he  could  not  get  a  licence  to  start  a  hawker's 
cart  unless  some  one  would  become  security  for  his 
good  behaviour.  He  explained  very  carefully  how 
he  could  manage  to  raise  sufficient  money  to  stock 
his  cart,  but  no  one  would  go  security  for  him.  I 
knew  that  hawkers  made  quite  a  good  living  in  the 
thinly  populated  parts  of  the  colony,  and  he  seemed 
desperately  in  earnest  in  his  desire  to  make  a  fresh 
start  and  gain  his  bread  honestly.  I  told  him  that 
I  would  consult  the  Commissioner  of  Police  and  see 
him  again  ;  which  I  did,  with  the  result  that  I 
went  security  for  his  good  conduct  myself !  No 
doubt  it  was  a  rash  thing  to  do,  but  I  wanted  him 


228  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

to  have  another  chance,  and  I  impressed  on  him 
how  keenly  I  should  feel  the  disgrace  if  he  did  not 
run  straight.  "  Very  good,  lady  Sahib  ;  I  won't 
disgrace  you,"  were  his  last  words  in  his  own 
language ;  and  he  never  did.  It  all  turned  out  like 
a  story  in  a  book,  and  two  or  three  times  a  year 
my  "  Indoo  "  turned  up,  bringing  a  smiling  little 
wife  and  an  ever-increasing  series  of  babies,  to 
report  himself  as  being  on  the  high  road  to  fortune, 
if  not  actually  at  her  temple  gate.  It  was  one  of 
the  most  satisfactory  interviews  that  little  back 
room  witnessed. 

Sometimes  I  had  a  very  bad  quarter  of  an  hour 
trying  to  explain  to  the  relatives  of  prisoners  that 
I  did  not  habitually  carry  the  key  of  the  big  Jail 
in  my  pocket,  and  so  was  unable  to  go  up  that 
very  moment,  unlock  its  door,  and  let  out  their,  of 
course,  quite  wrongfully  tried  and  convicted  friends. 
I  have  often  been  asked,  "  Why  did  you  see  these 
weeping  women  at  all  ?  " .  but  at  the  time  it  was 
very  hard  to  refuse,  for,  in  so  small  a  community 
as  it  then  was,  one  knew  something  of  the  circum- 
stances, and  how  hardly  the  trouble  or  disgrace 
pressed  on  the  innocent  members  of  the  family. 
Sympathy  was  all  there  was  to  give,  and  it  was 
impossible  to  withhold  that. 

Looking  back  on  those  interviews  one  sees  how 
comedy  treads  all  through  life  on  the  heels  of 
tragedy,  and  I  am  sure  to  a  listener  the  comic 


INTERVIEWS  229 

element,  even  in  the  most  pathetic  tales,  would 
have  been  supplied  by  my  legal  axioms.  I  used  to 
invent  them  on  the  spot  in  the  wildest  manner, 
and  I  observed  they  always  brought  great  comfort, 
which  is  perhaps  more  than  can  be  claimed  for  the 
real  thing.  For  instance,  when  I  was  very  hard 
put  to  it  once  to  persuade  a  weeping  girl  who  had 
flung  herself  on  her  knees  at  my  feet,  and  was 
entreating  me  to  at  once  release  her  brother,  who 
was  in  prison  for  manslaughter,  that  I  had  no  power 
to  give  the  order  she  begged  for,  I  cried,  "  Why, 
my  poor  girl,  the  Queen  of  England  could  not  do 
such  a  thing,  how  much  less  the  wife  of  a  Governor  ? 
I  dare  not  even  speak  to  my  husband  on  the  sub- 
ject." I  have  often  wondered  since  if  the  first  part 
of  that  assertion  was  true.  The  second  certainly 
was. 

Although  I  could  not  promise  to  overthrow  the 
action  of  the  Supreme  Court  in  the  high-handed 
manner  demanded  of  me,  still  I  have  never  regretted 
my  habit  of  seeing  these  poor  women  and  listening 
to  their  sad  stories.  It  really  seemed  to  comfort 
them  a  little  to  know  how  truly  sorry  I  felt  for 
them,  and  I  always  tried  to  keep  up  their  own  self- 
respect,  and  so  help  them  over  the  dark  days.  I 
had  very  few  demands  on  me  for  money,  which  was 
seldom  needed  for  such  cases  ;  only  when  illness — 
rare  in  the  beautiful  climate — supervened,  was  that 
sort  of  aid  at  all  necessary. 


230  COLONIAL  MEMORIES 

But  my  interviewers  did  not  invariably  consist 
of  supplicants  against  the  course  of  justice.  When 
it  was  found  that  a  visit  to  me  did  not  affect  in 
any  way  the  carrying  out  of  the  just-passed  sentence, 
my  petitioners  fell  off  in  numbers,  for  which  I  was 
very  thankful.  Sometimes  I  received  visits  of  the 
gratitude  which  is  so  emphatically  a  sense  of  favours 
to  come,  but  I  very  soon  learned  the  futility  of 
attempting  to  deal  with  those  daughters  of  the 
horse-leech,  and  cut  their  visits  as  short  as  I  could. 

Once,  however,  after  a  brief  interview  with  a  fluent 
and  very  red-faced  lady,  leading  a  demure  little 
boy  by  the  hand,  a  great  and  bitter  cry  was  raised 
in  my  establishment,  and  I  was  implored  by  my 
housemaids  not  to  "  see  any  more  of  them  hussies." 
The  lady  in  question  said  she  came  to  thank  me 
for  letting  her  dear,  innocent,  good  little  boy  out 
of  the  reformatory.  In  vain  I  protested  that  I 
knew  nothing  whatever  about  the  matter.  The 
boy  had  been  one  of  six  or  seven  little  waifs  who 
had  been  sent  to  the  reformatory  on  Rottnest 
Island,  where  we  always  spent  our  summers.  These 
children  used  to  come  down  to  me  every  Sunday 
afternoon  for  a  sort  of  Bible  lesson,  which  I  tried 
to  make  as  interesting  as  I  could  ;  but  beyond 
their  names  I  knew  nothing  about  them.  I  found 
that  they  were  well  taught  and  cared  for,  and,  as 
they  could  not  possibly  escape  from  the  island  (I 
never  heard  that  they  had  ever  tried  to  do  so), 


INTERVIEWS  ,  231 

were  allowed  a  good  deal  of  liberty  after  the  hours 
spent  in  school  or  the  carpenter's  shop.  I  presume 
this  boy's  sentence  had  expired  in  due  course, 
and  that  he  had  returned  to  his  loving  mother ; 
hence  the  wail  from  my  distracted  handmaidens, 
who  found  empty  clothes-lines  in  the  back-yard, 
through  which  these  visitors  had  departed,  taking 
with  them  all  the  socks,  stockings,  and  pocket- 
handkerchiefs  of  the  whole  household.  As  a  feat 
of  legerdemain  it  certainly  deserves  credit  for  the 
rapidity  with  which  it  was  done,  as  well  as  the 
way  the  articles  had  been  hidden  so  as  to  escape 
the  sentries'  eyes.  I  don't  know  what  happened 
to  the  lady,  who  I  heard  was  quickly  caught,  but 
I  saw  the  little  boy,  looking  as  cherubic  as  ever, 
the  next  summer  when  we  went  over  to  Rottnest. 
The  subject  was,  however,  never  alluded  to  between 
us,  and  he  used  to  get  his  stick  of  barley  sugar  as 
did  the  others  after  the  Bible  lesson  was  ended. 

Once  I  had  a  visit  from  a  delightful  old  gentle- 
man who  certainly  possessed  the  nicest  "  derange- 
ment of  epitaphs  "  I  have  ever  met  with  in  real 
life.  And  he  was  so  proud  of  his  choice  language, 
and  repeated  his  distorted  expressions  so  con- 
stantly, that  I  don't  know  how  I  preserved  the 
smallest  show  of  gravity.  He  was  an  office-keeper 
of  some  sort,  and  was  threatened  with  the  loss 
of  his  post  for  neglect  of  duty.  "  You  know,  my 
lady,  it's  with  regard  to  that  there  orfice  fire.  I 


232  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

never  did  know  fires  was  my  special  providence, 
never.  No  one  could  be  more  partikler  than  me 
about  my  dooty.  Why,  when  we  was  over  at 
Rottnest  last  year,  I  was  always  a  prevaricating 
with  the  shore  for  orders.  There  was  never  no 
inadvartences  about  me,  never ;  "  and  so  on.  I 
wish  I  could  remember  half  his  flowers  of  rhetoric. 

There  was,  however,  one  class  of  interviewer  of 
whom  I  saw  far  too  many  specimens  during  the  last 
year  or  two  of  my  stay  in  Western  Australia.  The 
colony  had  been  making  great  progress  in  every 
direction.  The  first  indications  of  its  splendid 
gold-fields  were  passing  from  vague  rumours  to 
hopeful  facts.  Railways  were  being  rapidly  pushed 
on  to  every  point  of  the  compass,  work  at  high 
wages  was  plentiful,  and  every  week  brought  ship- 
loads of  men  for  the  railways  and  all  other  public 
works.  As  a  rule,  I  believe,  the  immigrants  were 
fairly  satisfactory,  and  I  heard  of  the  various  con- 
tractors glad,ly  absorbing  large  numbers  of  work- 
men. In  many  instances  these  men  brought  their 
wives  and  families  with  them,  and  it  was  with  the 
modern  colonist's  wife  that  my  troubles  began. 

I  had  heard  wonderful  stories  of  the  struggles 
and  hardships  of  the  early  settlers,  and  admired 
the  splendid  spirit  in  which  the  older  sons  and 
daughters  started  empire-building.  One  dear  old 
lady  showed  me  the  packing-case  of  a  grand  piano, 
which  she  declared  she  should  always  treasure, 


INTERVIEWS  233 

as  she  had  brought  up  a  large  and  healthy  family 
in  it. 

"  You  see,  my  dear,  my  piano  was  not  much  use 
to  me  in  those  days,  and  I  don't  know  what  became 
of  it,  but  the  case  made  a  splendid  creche  for  the 
babies."  And  on  every  side  I  saw  instances  of 
difficulties  overcome  and  hardships  borne  with  the 
same  indomitable  pluck  and  cheerfulness.  But 
the  modern  colonist's  wife  is  a  very  different 
lady.  We  seem  to  have  educated  the  original 
woman  off  the  face  of  the  earth,  and  we  have  got 
instead  a  discontented,  helpless  sort  of  person, 
who  is  wretched  without  all  the  latest  forms  of 
civilisation,  who  wants  "  a  little  'ome  "  where  she 
can  put  her  fans  and  yellow  vases  on  the  walls, 
and  sit  indoors  and  do  crewel  work. 

One  woman  wept  scalding  tears  over  the  cruel 
fate  which  brought  her  to  a  country  as  yet  innocent 
of  Kindergartens.  She  had  two  sweet  little  girl- 
babies,  certainly  under  three  years  old,  who  looked 
the  picture  of  rosy  health.  I  tried  to  comfort  her 
by  saying  that  surely  there  was  -no  hurry  about 
their  education. 

"  Oh  no,  it's  not  the  schooling  I  mind,  ma'am," 
she  sobbed  ;  "  it's  the  getting  'em  out  of  the  way. 
They  do  mess  about  so,  and  I  want  'em  kept  safe 
and  quiet  out  of  the  house."  This  elegant  lady's 
hardships  consisted  in  being  required  to  go  a 
hundred  miles  or  so  up  the  railway  line  to  live  in 


234  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

a  little  township,  where  her  husband  had  highly 
paid  work.  She  wished  me  to  tell  him  that  she 
could  not  possibly  go  away  from  Perth,  though 
she  despised  our  little  capital  very  heartily.  I 
declined  to  interfere,  and  told  her  she  ought  to 
be  ashamed  of  herself,  so  she  ended  the  interview 
by  sobbing  out  that  "  she  did  think  a  lady  as  was 
a  lady  might  feel  for  her." 

"  And  what  can  I  do  for  you  ?  "  was  my  question 
to  a  neat,  rather  nervous  young  woman,  who  said 
she  was  Mrs.  Jakes. 

"  Well,  mum,  would  you  be  so  good  as  to  ask  his 

Excellency  to  order  Mr. "  (the  great  contractor 

of  that  day)  "  to  send  my  'usband  back  to  me." 

"  Why  ?  "  I  inquired. 

"  Well,  mum,  Jakes,  he  wants  me  to  go  up  the 
line  ever  so  far  and  live  in  a  bush,  leastways  in  a 
tent,  and  I  never  can  do  it." 

"  Dear  me,  why  not  ?  "  I  inquired.  "  Many  of 
my  friends  camp  out  in  the  bush,  and  like  it  very 
much.  Why  don't  you  go  ?  " 

With  a  deeply  disgusted  glance  at  my  cheerful 
aspect  Mrs.  Jakes  answered  with  dignity,  "  I  don't 
'old  with  living  among  wild  beasts,  mum,  and  Jakes 
ought  to  be  ashamed  of  'isself  asking  a  decent 
woman  to  go  and  live  in  bushes  with  lions  and 
tigers." 

As  soon  as  I  could  speak  for  laughing,  I  assured 
Mrs.  Jakes  that  the  forests  of  Western  Australia 


INTERVIEWS  235 

were  absolutely  innocent  of  such  denizens,  but  she 
did  not  seem  to  willingly  believe  my  assertions, 
and  left  me  much  disappointed  at  my  advice  to 
go  up  and  join  her  husband,  who  was  perfectly 
well  and  happy,  and  working  for  excellent  wages. 

I  stopped  at  that  very  same  road-side  station 
later,  in  one  of  my  spring  excursions  after  wild 
flowers,  and  I  inquired  if  Jakes  was  still  working 
there.  "  Yes ;  he  is  a  capital  man,  and  is  now 
foreman,  getting  over  two  pounds  a  week."  So 
then  I  asked  to  be  conducted  to  his  tent,  which  I 
found  pitched  in  a  lovely  sylvan  glade,  and  there, 
to  my  great  satisfaction,  I  saw  Mrs.  Jakes  pre- 
paring his  tea.  She  was  fain  to  confess  that  bush- 
life  was  very  different  from  her  alarming  anticipa- 
tions of  it.  She  looked  ever  so  much  better  her- 
self, and  the  children,  whom  I  carried  off  to  tea 
with  me — only  on  account  of  the  buns — were  as 
rosy  as  the  dawn. 

Some  of  my  interviews  were  too  sad  to  be  spoken 
of  here  :  interviews  in  which  I  had  often  to  help- 
lessly witness  the  awful  creeping  back  to  the 
capacity  for  suffering  which  is  the  worst  stage  in 
that  long  via  dolor osa. 

One  terrible  night,  spent  in  walking  up  and  down 
the  shore  at  Rottnest  with  a  distracted  lighthouse- 
keeper,  who  had  just  heard  that  his  young  wife 
had  been  wrecked  and  lost  on  her  way  out  to  him, 
can  never  be  forgotten.  The  poor  man  was  literally 


236  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

beside  himself.     His  mates  brought  him  down  to 

me,   declaring  that   they   could   not  manage  him, 

and  felt  sure  he  meant  to  jump  into  the  sea.     There 

was  not  much  to  be  said,  so  we  paced  the  shore 

in  the  moonlight  outside  my  house  in  silence.     I 

did  not  dare  to  leave  him  for  a  moment,  and  it  was 

not  until  I  saw  the  smoke  of  the  kitchen  fire  very 

early  in  the  morning  that  I  took  him  indoors,  gave 

him  some  hot  tea,  and  made  him  go  and  lie  down. 

He  promised  me,  like  a  child,  "  to  be  good,"  and 

kept  his  word  bravely — poor,  heart-broken  mourner. 

And  then  there  was  my  "  loving  boy  Corny,"  a 

red-headed  imp  of  mischief,  whose  mother  used, 

when  he  "  drove  her  past  her  patience,"  to  bring 

him  to  me  to  scold.     Poor  Corny 's  mischief  was 

only  animal  spirits  unemployed,   and  we  became 

great  friends.     The  difficulty  was  to  induce  Corny 

to  go  to  school  or  to  learn  anything,  but  it  chanced 

that    I  was  going  to  England  for  a  few  months, 

and  Corny  declared  himself  grieved,  so  I  promised 

to  write  to  him  regularly,  if  he  would  learn  to  write 

to  me,  which  he  did  with  ease,  clever  little  monkey 

that  he  was,  and  signed  himself  as  above.     From 

what  I  knew  of  Corny  I  strongly  suspect  he  would 

be  one  of  the  very  first  to  volunteer  for  service 

in  South  Africa.     Our  troublesome  boys  generally 

make  splendid  "  soldiers  of  the  Queen,"  and  bestow 

their  troublesomeness  on  her  enemies. 

Instead    of   interviews,    which   were   seldom    or 


INTERVIEWS  237 

never  asked  for  in  the  next  colonies  we  went  to, 
I  was  assailed  by  letters,  which,  however,  were 
chiefly  directed  to  the  Governor,  who  passed  on 
some  to  me  in  inquire  into,  though  the  Inspector- 
General  of  Police  made  short  work  of  those  sub- 
mitted to  him.  A  visit  from  a  constable  to  the 
suppliant's  address  would  generally  discover  the 
existence  of  a  very  different  state  of  affairs  from 
what  was  represented  in  the  piteous  application. 
A  youthful  and  starving  family,  afflicted  by 
divers  strange  maladies,  would  resolve  itself  into 
a  comfortable  old  couple,  who  could  not  even  be 
made  the  least  ashamed  of  their  barefaced  im- 
posture. 

The  language  employed  in  these  begging  letters 
was  of  the  finest,  if  not  always  the  most  intelligible. 
I  sometimes  wondered  in  what  dictionary  they 
found  the  words  they  used.  For  instance,  here  is 
a  literal  copy  of  what  I  imagine  was  meant  for  a 
sort  of  appeal  from  a  decision  on  a  very  barefaced 
case  of  imposture.  "  We  rectitudely  beg  to  recog- 
nise our  hesitation  of  his  Excy8  dogma  thereon." 

Perhaps  the  most  wonderful  of  these  epistles 
purported  to  come  from  an  old  woman  who  begged 
for  money,  and  detailed  her  ill-success  in  obtaining 
an  order  for  a  coffin  for  her  daughter,  who,  she 
declared,  was  "in  a  ridiculous  condition  on  the 
roof  of  her  cottage."  This  statement  seemed  to 
open  up  such  a  vista  of  horrors  that  a  mounted 


238  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

policeman  was  at  once  despatched  to  inquire  into 
the  case.  It  was  then  found  that  the  young  lady 
was  in  rude  health  and  wanted  the  money  for 
toilette  purposes. 

One  of  the  most  unsatisfactory  interviews  I  ever 
had  was  in  one  of  those  languid  sunny  isles.  My 
interviewer  was  a  nice,  pretty  young  widow,  slightly 
coloured,  who  had  lost  her  excellent  husband  under 
very  sad  and  sudden  circumstances.  Of  course, 
help  was  forthcoming  for  the  moment,  but  it  was 
suggested  that  I  should  try  to  find  out  from  her 
how  she  could  be  helped  to  earn  her  own  living. 
She  appeared  at  the  stated  hour,  most  beautifully 
and  expensively  dressed,  and  had  charming,  gentle 
manners.  But  any  one  so  helpless  I  never  came 
across.  She  seemed  to  have  received  a  fairly  good 
education,  but  to  be  quite  incapable  of  using  it. 
I  asked  if  she  would  undertake  the  care  of  little 
children.  "  Oh,  no  !  "  she  "  did  not  like  children." 
Could  she  set  up  as  a  dressmaker  ?  "  Oh,  no  !  " 
she  "  did  not  like  dressmaking,"  and  so  on  through 
every  sort  of  occupation.  There  were  plenty  of 
openings  for  any  talent  of  any  sort  which  she  might 
possess.  At  last,  in  despair,  I  asked  if  she  had 
a  plan  of  her  own,  and  it  seems  she  had,  but  the 
plan  consisted  in  my  making  her  a  handsome 
weekly  allowance  out  of  a  large  fund  which  she 
had  been  told  I  had  at  my  disposal.  This  I  ener- 
getically denied,  so  at  last  she  wound  up  by  asking 


INTERVIEWS  239 

if  I  would  order  a  certain  insurance  office  to  pay 
her  a  small  sum  for  which  her  husband's  life  had 
been  insured.  I  suggested  that  no  doubt  she  would 
receive  the  money  in  due  time  without  my  inter- 
ference. But  she  thought  not,  "  Because  the 
premiums  had  not  been  paid  lately,  as  she  always 
wanted  the  money  for  something  else."  Dress,  I 
should  think. 

I  often  wish  I  had  kept  any  of  the  wonderful 
letters  we  received  upon  every  sort  of  subject. 
One  was  addressed  to  "  Sa  Majest<§  le  Roi  de 
Trinidad,"  and  contained  a  request  for  a  decora- 
tion or  order  of  some  unknown  kind.  Another, 
with  a  similar  address,  only  asked  for  stamps. 
It  appeared  later  that  both  these  epistles  were 
intended  for  the  other  Trinidad,  which  at  present 
is  only  inhabited  by  hermit-crabs,  and  certainly 
could  not  be  expected  to  furnish  either  commodity. 


XVI 
A  COOKING  MEMORY 

I  OFTEN  think,  as  I  pass  the  handsome  and  sub- 
stantial building  in  Buckingham  Palace  Road, 
known  as  the  National  School  of  Cookery,  how 
much  it  has  grown  and  developed  since  my  day, 
nearly  thirty  years  ago. 

That  was  indeed  the  "  day  of  small  things," 
for  we  started  work  in  a  series  of  sheds,  lent  by 
the  trustees  of  the  South  Kensington  Museum, 
in  Exhibition  Road,  near  what  used  to  be  the 
temporary  site  of  the  Royal  School  of  Art  Needle- 
work. The  idea  originated  with  the  late  Sir  Henry 
Cole,  and  was  one  of  the  many  excellent  plans 
he  conceived  and  started.  As  often  happens,  the 
first  outcome  of  Sir  Henry's  scheme  proved  widely 
different  from  his  original  intention  ;  but  on  the 
whole  there  is  no  doubt  that  the  teaching  of  the 
National  School  of  Cookery  has  worked  a  great 
improvement  in  our  culinary  ideas  and  knowledge. 

Sir  Henry  at  once  gathered  a  strong  working 
committee  together,  including  the  late  Duke  of 

Westminster,  the  late  Lord  Granville,   Mr.   Hans 

240 


A   COOKING   MEMORY  241 

Busk,  Sir  Daniel  Cooper,  Mr.  (Rob  Roy)  McGregor 
and  many  other  experts.  I  was  asked  to  be  the 
first  Lady  Superintendent,  to  my  deep  amaze- 
ment, for  I  have  never  cared  in  the  least  what  I 
ate,  provided  it  was  "  neat  and  clean."  I  was  a 
very  busy  woman  in  those  days,  and  it  seemed 
difficult  to  give  the  necessary  time  to  the  school, 
from  10  A.M.  to  4.30  P.M.  every  day  except  Saturday 
afternoon.  I  have,  however,  never  regretted  the 
extra  work  my  acceptance  entailed,  for  it  was  of 
incalculable  benefit  to  me  to  learn  Sir  Henry  Cole's 
method  of  dealing  with  subjects,  and  to  watch  his 
habits  of  patient  attention  and  care  of  even  the 
minutest  details. 

We  started  with  very  little  money  to  our  credit 
— as  well  as  I  remember,  less  than  two  hundred 
pounds  ;  but  Sir  Henry  had  thorough  confidence 
in  the  depth  of  the  purse  of  the  British  public. 
This  confidence  was  abundantly  justified,  for  want 
of  money  was  never  one  of  the  difficulties  be- 
setting our  earliest  efforts  towards  teaching  a 
better  kind  of  cooking.  We  at  once  set  to  work 
to  provide  ourselves  with  really  good  cooks,  and 
in  this  respect  we  were  exceptionally  fortunate, 
for  three  out  of  the  five  young  women  we  selected 
remained  with  us  many  years,  and  indeed  they 
were  all  very  satisfactory.  The  only  thing  I 
had  to  teach  them  was  how  to  impart  their  know- 
ledge, for  they  jibbed,  as  it  were,  at  the  idea  of 

Q 


242  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

having  to  speak  aloud,  especially  to  ladies.  There 
were  dreadful  moments  when  I  feared  I  should 
never  be  able  to  induce  them  to  accompany  their 
lessons  by  a  few  explanatory  words,  loud  enough 
to  be  heard,  at  every  stage  of  the  dish.  I  acted 
a  whole  benchful  of  pupils  of  every  grade  of  ignor- 
ance before  them,  without  eliciting  anything  beyond 
painfully  dee'p  blushes  or  an  occasional  laugh. 
So  long  as  I  was  the  only  imaginary  pupil  we  did 
not  make  much  progress  ;  but  at  last  I  left  them 
alone,  to  get  on  their  own  way,  with  just  two  or 
three  clever  girls  as  their  first  pupils,  whom  I 
had  previously  begged  to  ask  every  sort  of  question 
about  the  very  beginning  of  things. 

It  is  pleasant  to  think  that  my  successor — 
who  is  still  the  lady  superintendent  of  the  school 
— was  one  of  those  same  pupils,  and  so  took  an 
early  part  in  removing  one  of  the  greatest  diffi- 
culties. In  spite  of  much  impatience  on  the  part 
of  the  public,  who  were,  as  usual,  possessed  by 
an  erroneous  idea  of  what  the  work  of  the  school 
aimed  at,  we  had  to  devote  some  weeks  to  this 
same  teaching  of  the  teachers,  and  organisation 
of  what  was  to  be  taught. 

There  was  no  difficulty  about  providing  ranges 
and'  stoves  of  every  sort  and  kind,  for  the  makers 
of  such  wares  offered  us  numerous  samples.  It  was, 
however,  necessary  for  the  five  cooks  to  sit  in  judg- 
ment on  each  novelty,  and  decide  whether  it  was 


A   COOKING   MEMORY  243 

worth  accepting,  for  of  course  we  wanted  to  use 
the  best  sort  of  cooking  apparatus,  but  yet  not 
to  depart  too  much  from  familiar  paths.  We  felt 
sure  it  would  be  of  no  use  teaching  beginners  to 
cook  on  a  stove  or  range  which,  from  its  costliness 
or  some  other  reason,  would  be  rarely  met  with. 
Every  sort  of  cooking  utensil  was  also  offered  to 
us  free  of  expense,  besides  many  and  various 
kinds  of  patent  fuel ;  but  this  latter  gift  was  in- 
variably declined  with  thanks  by  the  cooks,  who 
would  have  none -of  it. 

Sir  Henry  Cole  had  foreseen  that  we  ought  to 
begin  at  the  very  beginning,  so  the  first  thing 
taught  was  how  to  clean  a  stove?  with  all  its  flues, 
puzzling  little  doors,  &c.  Then  it  was  ordained 
that  the  practical  pupil  was  to  be  shown  how 
to  clean,  quickly  and  thoroughly,  saucepans,  frying- 
pans,  and  in  short  all  kitchen  utensils.  This 
was  followed  by  a  course  of  scrubbing  tables  and 
hearths.  The  morning  lessons  were  devoted  gene- 
rally to  the  acquisition  of  this  useful  knowledge, 
supplemented  by  little  lectures  on  choosing  pro- 
visions, and  how  to  tell  good  from  bad,  fresh 
from  stale,  and  so  forth.  In  the  afternoons — 
for  the  poor  cooks  had  to  be  given  an  interval  of 
rest  and  refreshment — the  lessons  were  given  in 
two  ways  :  by  demonstration,  where  the  instructor 
prepared  the  dish  before  her  class  from  the  be- 
ginning, and  the  pupils  watched  the  process  and 


244  COLONIAL  MEMORIES 

took  notes  ;  or  else  by  practical  experience,  where 
they  prepared  and  cooked  the  dish  themselves 
under  the  cook's  superintendence. 

In  those  early  days  we  attempted  the  cooking 
only  of  simple  food;  such  as  soups  and  broths, 
plain  joints,  simple  entrees,  pastry,  puddings, 
jellies,  salads,  and  such  like.  One  day  was  set 
apart  entirely  for  learning  "sick-room  cookery," 
and  this  was  found  to  be  very  popular,  only  the 
pupils  invariably  began  by  asking  to  be  shown 
how  to  make  poultices !  I  soon  observed  that 
each  of  these  very  nice  cooks  of  ours  excelled  in 
just  one  thing,  and  so  they  had  to  fall  into  line, 
as  it  were,  and  the  soup-lesson  would  be  given 
by  the  expert  in  soups,  and  so  all  through.  Fortu- 
nately one  dear,  nice  little  woman  had  a  perfect 
genius  for  sick-room  cookery,  and  that  day's 
lessons  were  confided  entirely  to  her.  Not  one 
of  them,  however,  could  make  really  good  pastry, 
for  we  aimed  at  producing  the  very  best  of  every- 
thing we  attempted.  I  tried  in  vain  to  get  it  right, 
until  I  mentioned  my  difficulty  to  Lord  Granville, 
who  at  once  sent  his  chef  down  to  give  private 
lessons  to  the  cook  whose  ideas  on  pastry  were 
most  nearly  what  we  wanted.  This  was  a  great 
help  and  of  immense  benefit ;  but  I  was  much 
amused  when,  a  week  or  two  after,  as  I  was  sitting 
in  my  little  office — all  very  shabby  and  incon- 
venient, but  we  were  too  deeply  interested  to 


A  COOKING   MEMORY  245 

mind  trifles — a  most  elegant  young  gentleman 
appeared,  faultlessly  attired,  and  carrying  a  large 
envelope,  which,  with  a  beautiful  bow,  he  tendered 
to  me. 

"  What  is  this  ?  "  I  inquired. 

"  A  State  PapeY  on  Pastry,  Madam,"  was  the 
answer,  and  the  bearer  of  the  important  document 
proved  to  be  the  chef  himself,  who  had  taken  the 
trouble  to  commit  his  lesson  to  paper. 

At  last  everything  was  ready,  and  one  fine 
Monday  morning  the  school  opened  its  doors  to  a 
perfect  rush  of  pupils.  We  ought  to  have  been 
happy,  but  Sir  Henry  certainly  was  not,  for  these 
same  pupils  were  by  no  means  the  class  he  wanted 
to  get  at.  Fine  ladies  of  every  rank,  rich  women, 
gay  Americans  in  beautiful  clothes,  all  thronged 
our  kitchens,  and  the  waiting  carriages  looked  as 
if  a  smart  party  were  going  on  within  our  dingy 
sheds.  It  was  certainly  a  very  curious  craze,  and 
I  can  answer  for  its  lasting  the  two  years  I  was 
superintendent.  I  asked  many  of  the  ladies  why 
they  insisted  on  coming  to  learn  how  to  clean 
kitchen  ranges  and  scrub  wooden  tables,  as  nothing 
short  of  a  revolution  could  possibly  make  such 
knowledge  useful  to  them,  and  I  received  very 
curious  answers.  One  friend  said  it  was  because  of 
their  Scotch  shooting-box,  where  such  knowledge 
would  come  in  very  handy  ;  but  this  statement 
has  never  been  borne  out  by  any  subsequent  ex- 


246  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

perience  of  my  own.  Others  said  they  wanted  to 
set  an  example.  Some  stated  that  their  husbands 
wished  it ;  but  I  cannot  imagine  why,  as  they 
were  all  people  who  could  afford  excellent  cooks. 

For  a  long  time  we  could  not  get  one  of  the  class 
we  wanted,  nor  did  a  single  servant  come  to  learn, 
though  the  fees  were  purposely  made  as  low  as 
possible — in  fact,  almost  nominal  for  servants. 
We  also  wished  to  get  hold  of  the  class  of  young 
matron  who  is  represented  in  Punch  as  timidly 
imploring  her  cook  "  not  to  put  lumps  in  the 
melted  butter,"  but  even  they  were  very  shy  of 
coming.  Sometimes,  I  think,  they  were  really 
ashamed  of  their  stupendous  and  amazing  ignor- 
ance, for  it  was  in  that  rank  we  found,  when  we 
did  catch  one  or  two,  that  the  most  absolute  want 
of  knowledge  of  the  simplest  domestic  details 
existed.  Whether  or  no  it  is  due  to  the  many 
schools  of  cookery  which  now  happily  exist  all 
over  Great  Britain,  I  will  not  venture  to  say  ;  but 
surely  it  would  be  impossible  nowadays  for  any 
young  woman  to  give  me  the  answer  one  of  our 
earliest  pupils  gave.  She  was  very  young  and 
very  pretty,  and  we  all  consequently  took  the 
greatest  interest  in  her  progress  ;  but  alas  !  she 
was  privately  reported  to  me  as  being  a  most  un- 
promising subject.  One  day,  when  her  lesson 
was  just  over,  I  chanced  to  meet  her  and  inquired 
how  she  was  getting  on.  She  took  the  most  hopeful 


A   COOKING   MEMORY  247 

view,  and  declared  she  "  knew  a  lot."  I  next 
asked  her  to  tell  me  what  she  had  learned  that  day. 

"  Oh,  let  me  see  ;  we've  been  doing  breakfast 
dishes,  I  think." 

"  And  what  did  you  learn  about  them  ?  " 

"  I  learned  " — this  with  an  air  of  triumph — 
"  that  they  are  all  the  same  eggs  which  you  poach 
or  boil.  I  always  thought  they  were  a  different 
sort  of  egg,  a  different  shape,  you  know  !  " 

I  think  one  of  my  greatest  worries  was  the  way 
in  which  the  British  middle-class  matron  regarded 
the  National  School  of  Cookery  as  an  institution 
for  supplying  her  with  an  excellent  cook,  possessing 
all  the  virtues  as  well  as  all  the  talents,  at  very 
low  wages.  Every  post  brought  me  sheaves  and 
piles  of  letters  entering  into  the  minutest  details 
of  the  writers'  domestic  affairs,  and  requesting — 
I  might  almost  say  ordering — me  to  send  them 
down  next  day  one  of  the  treasures  I  was  supposed 
to  manufacture  and  turn  out  by  the  score.  In  vain 
I  published  notices  that  the  school  was  not  a 
registry  office,  and  that  no  cooks  could  be1  "  sent 
from  it."  Sometimes  I  tried  to  cope  with  any 
particularly  beseeching  matron  by  writing  to 
explain  the  nature  of  the  undertaking,  and  suggest- 
ing that  she  should  send  her  cook,  or  a  cook,  to 
learn  ;  but  this  always  made  her  very  indignant. 
At  last  I  found  the  only  way  to  get  rid  of  the 
intolerable  nuisance  of  such  correspondents  was  to 


248  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

answer  by  a  lithographed  post-card,  stating  that 
the  school  did  not  undertake  to  supply  cooks. 
This  missive  appeared  to  act  as  a  bombshell  in 
the  establishment ;  for  apparently  the  existing 
cook  immediately  gave  warning,  eliciting  one  more 
despairing  shriek  of  "  See  what  you  have  done," 
to  me,  from  the  persevering  mistress.  I  was  not, 
however,  so  inhuman  as  to  launch  this  missile  until 
I  had  many  times  said  the  same  thing,  either  by 
letter  or  by  enclosing  printed  notices  of  the  work 
and  plan  of  the  school. 

I  often  wonder  we  had  not  more  accidents,  con- 
sidering the  crass  ignorance  of  our  ladies.  Oddly 
enough,  the  only  alarming  episode  came  to  us 
from  a  girl  of  the  people,  one  of  four  who  had  begged 
to  be  allowed  to  act  as  kitchen-maids.  Their  idea 
was  a  good  one,  for  of  course  they  got  their  food 
all  day,  and  were  at  least  in  the  way  of  picking  up 
a  good  deal  of  useful  knowledge.  These  girls  also 
cleaned  up  after  the  class  was  over,  so  saving  the 
poor  weary  cooks,  who  early  in  the  undertaking 
remarked,  with  a  sigh,  "  The  young  ladies  do  make 
such  a  mess,  to  be  sure  !  "  Well,  this  girl,  who 
was  very  steady  and  hard-working,  but  abnormally 
stupid,  saw  fit  one  morning  to  turn  on  the  gas  in 
certain  stoves  some  little  time  beforehand.  The 
sheds  were  so  airy— to  say  the  least  of  it— that 
there  was  not  sufficient  smell  to  attract  any  one's 
attention,  and  the  gas  accumulated  comfortably 


A  COOKING   MEMORY  249 

in  the  stoves  until  the  class  started  work.  It 
chanced  to  be  a  lesson  in  cooking  vegetables,  and 
potatoes  were  the  "  object."  About  twenty-five 
small  saucepans  had  been  filled  with  water  and 
potatoes,  and  the  next  step  was  to  put  them  on  to 
boil.  I  was  not  in  that  kitchen  at  the  moment, 
or  I  hope  I  should  have  perceived  the  escape,  and 
have  had  the  common-sense  to  forbid  a  match 
being  struck  to  light  the  gas  in  certain  stoves. 
But  I  was  near  enough  to  hear  a  loud  "  pouf," 
followed  by  cries  of  alarm  and  dismay,  and  I  rushed 
in  while  the  potatoes  were  still  in  the  air,  for  they 
went  up  as  high  as  ever  they  could  get.  Happily 
no  one  was  hurt,  though  a  good  deal  of  damage 
was  done  to  some  of  the  stoves  ;  but  it  was  a  very 
narrow  escape,  owing  doubtless  to  the  space  and 
involuntary  ventilation  of  these  same  sheds.  In 
the  midst  of  my  alarm  I  well  remember  the  ridiculous 
effect  of  that  rain  of  potatoes.  Every  one  had 
forgotten  all  about  them,  and  their  re-appearance 
created  as  much  surprise  as  though  such  things 
had  never  existed. 

I  am  afraid  the  object  of  much  of  the  severity 
of  cleanliness  taught  in  the  morning  lessons  was 
to  discourage  the  numerous  fine  and  smart  ladies 
who  beset  our  doors,  though  Sir  Henry  had  always 
declared  it  was  only  to  test  their  intentions.  I 
always  made  a  round  of  the  kitchens  after  work 
had  been  started,  and  it  was  really  touching  to 


250  COLONIAL  MEMORIES 

see  beautiful  gowns  pinned  back  and  covered  by 
large  coarse  aprons,  and  jewelled  hands  wielding 
scrubbing  brushes.  Once,  as  I  came  round  the 
comer,  I  heard  one  of  the  cook  teachers  say  to 
a  fair  pupil  who  was  kneeling  amid  a  great  slop 
of  soapy  water,  and  calling  upon  her  to  admire  the 
scrubbing  of  a  kitchen  table,  "  No,  my  lady,  I'm 
afraid  that  won't  do  [at  all.  You  see  her  lady- 
ship "  (that  was  I,  bien  entendu)  "  is  a  tiger  about 
the  legs  !  "  I  certainly  had  no  idea  such  was  my 
character. 

I  wonder  what  has  become  of  all  the  certificates 
gained,  with  a  great  deal  of  trouble  and  fatigue, 
by  strict  and  lengthy  examinations,  which  used 
to  be  so  proudly  exhibited,  framed  and  glazed, 
in  stately  mansions  thirty  years  ago. 

Of  course  there  were  absurd  proposals  made  to 
us  of  all  sorts  and  kinds.  It  was  suggested  by 
some  wiseacres  that  we  should  instruct  both  the 
army  and  navy,  to  say  nothing  of  the  merchant 
service.  I  entreated  to  be  allowed  first  to  teach 
the  ordinary  middle-class  cook  of  the  British 
Empire,  before  I  soared  to  the  instruction  of  its 
gallant  defenders.  True,  that  same  cook  was  a 
very  shy  bird  to  catch,  and  I  really  never  caught 
her  in  the  two  short  years  of  my  management ; 
but  I  am  glad  to  know  that  my  successor  has 
since  managed  to  attract  and  teach  the  exact 
class  we  always  wanted  to  reach.  The  odd  thing  is, 


A   COOKING   MEMORY  251 

that  the  cooks  generally  did  not  want  to  be  taught, 
and  I  have  constantly  known  of  lessons  being 
declined,  even  when  they  were  offered  at  the  ex- 
pense of  the  mistress.  No  reason  whatever  against 
the  method  of  the  school  was  given,  and  the  refusal 
seemed  to  spring  merely  from  a  dislike  to  be  taught  : 
"  Thank  you,  ma'am  ;  I  had  rather  not,"  being 
the  general  formula.  I  know  of  one  or  two  in- 
stances where  an  excellent  teacher  had  been  sent 
down  from  the  school  by  special  request  to  a  small 
town  some  thirty  miles  from  London,  but  when 
the  various  mistresses  in  the  neighbourhood 
attempted  to  form  a  class  of  pupils  from  their  own 
servants  and  at  their  own  expense,  they  were 
met  on  all  sides  by  flat  refusals,  and  assurances 
that  the  cooks  would  rather  give  up  their  situa- 
tions than  join  a  cooking  class.  Those  were  among 
the  early  and  the  most  disheartening  difficulties 
of  the  school.  If  we  could  only  have  infused  the 
desire  for  culinary  knowledge,  which  seemed  sud- 
denly to  take  possession  of  the  ladies,  into  the 
minds  of  their  humbler  sisters,  how  glad  we  should 
have  been  ! 

I  cannot  conclude  this  paper  without  telling  of 
one  of  my  own  most  confusing  experiences,  the 
problem  of  which  has  never  been  solved.  One 
day  I  received  a  letter  stating  that  the  writer 
was  most  anxious  to  become  a  pupil  of  the  school. 
It  was  from  a  young  curate  in  a  distant  and  out- 


252  COLONIAL  MEMORIES 

of-the-way  part  of  the  north  (I  think)  of  England. 
I  never  read  a  more  clever  and  amusing  letter, 
describing  his  sufferings  in  the  food  line  at  the 
hands  of  the  good  woman  who  "  did  "  for  him  in 
his  modest  lodging.  He  was  evidently  desperate, 
and  professed  himself  determined  to  learn  how 
to  cook,  so  as  to  be  independent  of  this  dame. 
But  although  I  assured  him  of  my  profound 
sympathy  and  pity,  I  had  at  the  same  time  to 
decline  him  as  a  pupil,  alleging  that  we  did  not 
teach  men  at  all.  Letter  after  letter  followed 
this  pronouncement  of  mine,  each  one  droller 
than  the  last,  though  the  poor  man  was  evidently 
in  deadly  earnest  all  the  time.  He  pleaded  and 
besought  in  the  most  eloquent  words,  assuring 
me  of  his  harmless  nature  and  wishes,  offering 
to  send  testimonials  as  to  character,  &c.,  from 
his  bishop,  or  his  rector's  wife,  anything,  in  short, 
that  I  required  to  convince  me  of  his  worthiness. 
I  had  no  time,  however,  to  waste  on  so  fruitless, 
though  so  amusing,  a  correspondence,  and  I  had 
to  cut  it  short,  by  merely  repeating  the  rule,  and 
declining  peremptorily  to  go  on  with  the  subject. 
I  had  nearly  forgotten  all  about  it,  when,  one 
morning,  some  weeks  later,  my  deputy-superin- 
tendent came  into  my  office  and  said  :— 

4  There  is  such  a  queer  girl  among   the  new 
pupils  this  morning." 

"  Is  there  ?    What  is  she  like  ?  "  I  asked  rather 


A   COOKING   MEMORY  253 

indifferently,  for  a  "  queer  girl "  was  by  no  means 
unknown  in  the  crowded  classes. 

"  Well,  she  is  so  big  and  so  awkward,  as  if  she 
had  never  worn  petticoats  before,  and  has  such 
huge  hands  and  feet,  and  quite  short  hair  with  a 
cap,  and,  oh  !  such  a  deep  voice.  But  she  works 
very  hard,  and  is  rushing  through  her  lesson  at 
a  great  rate." 

"  What  is  her  name  ?  "  I  asked,  as  a  light  seemed 
suddenly  to  dawn  on  me. 

"  Miss — Miss — oh,  here  it  is,"  said  the  deputy- 
lady,  holding  out  the  counterfoil  of  her  book  of 
receipts  for  fees.  "  She  sent  me  up  a  post-office 
order  for  the  fees  some  little  time  ago,  but  there 
was  no  room  for  her  in  any  class  until  to-day." 

I  looked  at  the  name,  rather  a  remarkable  one, 
though  I  have  quite  forgotten  it,  turned  to  the 
letter-book,  and,  lo,  it  was  the  same  as  the  curate's  ! 
I  did  not  say  anything  to  my  second  in  command, 
but  made  an  opportunity  for  going  into  the  kitchen 
where  the  "  queer  girl "  would  be  at  work.  No 
need  to  ask  for  her  to  be  pointed  out,  for  a  more 
singular-looking  being  I  never  beheld,  working  away 
with  feverish  energy.  The  cook  who  was  giving 
the  lesson  told  me  afterwards  that  the  dismay  of 
that  pupil  was  great  at  being  first  set  to  clean 
stoves  and  scrub  tables,  and  that  "  she "  had 
piteously  entreated,  in  a  deep  bass  voice,  to  be 
shown  at  once  how  to  cook  a  mutton  chop.  The 


254  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

set  of  lessons  were  also  much  curtailed  in  that 
instance,  for  the  queer  girl  did  not  appear  after 
the  end  of  that  week,  instead  of  going  on  for 
another  fortnight. 

There  is  every  reason  to  believe  that  the  National 
School  of  Cookery — in  which  I  must  always  take 
a  deep  interest — is  much  nearer  now  to  fulfilling 
its  original  design  of  constant  and  careful  in- 
struction in  the  difficult  art  of  cooking  than  it  was 
in  those  early  but  amusing  days,  and  its  many 
constant  friends  and  supporters  must  rejoice  to 
see  how  it  has  emerged  from  that  chrysalis  stage 
and  become  a  self-supporting  concern,  doing  steady 
excellent  work  in  the  most  unobtrusive  manner. 


XVII 
BIRD  NOTES 

A  GREAT  reaction  of  feeling  in  favour  of  the  mon- 
goose has  set  in  since  Mr.  Rudyard  Kipling's  de- 
lightful story  of  "  Rikki-tikki,"  in  the  "First 
Jungle  Book,"  presenting  that  small  animal  in 
an  heroic  and  loveable  aspect.  But  to  the  true 
bird-lover  the  mongoose  still  appears  a  dreaded 
and  dangerous  foe.  It  is  well  known  that  its 
introduction  into  Jamaica  has  resulted  in  nearly 
the  extermination  of  bird  life  in  that  island,  and 
the  consequent  increase  of  insects,  notably  the 
diminutive  tick,  that  mere  speck  of  a  vicious  little 
torment. 

There  are,  I  believe,  only  a  very  few  mongooses 
in  Barbados,  and  strong  measures  will  doubtless 
be  adopted  to  still  further  reduce  their  number ; 
for  no  possible  advantage  in  destroying  the  large 
brown  rat  which  gnaws  the  sugar-cane  can  make 
up  for  the  havoc  the  mongoose  creates  in  the 
poultry  yard,  and,  indeed,  among  all  feathered 
creatures.  It  has  also  been  found  by  experience 
that  the  mongoose  prefers  eggs  to  rats,  and  will 

255 


256  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

neglect  his  proper  prey  for  any  sort  or  size  of  egg. 
He  was  brought  into  Jamaica  to  eat  up  the  large 
rat  introduced  a  century  ago  by  a  certain  Sir 
Charles  Price  (after  whom  those  same  brown  rats 
are  still  called),  instead  of  which  the  mongoose 
has  taken  to  egg  and  bird  eating,  and  has  thriven 
on  this  diet  beyond  all  calculation.  Sir  Charles 
Price  introduced  his  rat  to  eat  up  the  snakes  with 
which  Jamaica  was  then  infested,  and  now  that 
the  mongoose  has  failed  to  clear  out  the  rats, 
some  other  creature  will  have  to  be  introduced 
to  cope  with  the  swarming  and  ravenous  mongoose. 

It  was  therefore  with  the  greatest  satisfaction  I 
once  beheld  in  the  garden  at  Government  House, 
Barbados,  the  clever  manner  the  birds  circum- 
vented the  wiles  of  a  half-tame  mongoose  which 
haunted  the  grounds. 

Short  as  is  the  twilight  in  those  Lesser  Antilles, 
there  was  still,  at  midsummer,  light  enough  left 
in  the  western  sky  to  make  it  delightful  to  linger 
in  the  garden  after  our  evening  drive.  The  wonder 
and  beauty  of  the  hues  of  the  sunset  sky  seemed 
ever  fresh,  and  every  evening  one  gazed  with 
admiration,  which  was  almost  awe,  at  the  mar- 
vellous undreamed  of  colours  glowing  on  that 
gorgeous  palette.  Crimsons,  yellows,  mauves, 
palest  blues,  chrysoprase  greens,  pearly  greys,  all 
blent  together  as  if  by  enchantment,  but  changing 
as  you  looked  and  melting  into  that  deep,  inde- 


BIRD   NOTES  257 

scribable,  tropic  purple,  which  forms  the  glorious 
background  of  the  "  meaner  beauties  of  the 
night." 

In  this  same  garden  there  chanced  to  be  a  couple 
of  low  swinging  seats  just  opposite  a  large  tree, 
which  I  soon  observed  was  the  favourite  roosting 
place  of  countless  numbers  of  birds.  Indeed, 
all  the  fowls  of  the  air  seemed  to  assemble  in  its 
branches,  and  I  was  filled  with  curiosity  to  know 
why  the  other  trees  were  deserted.  At  roosting 
time  the  chattering  and  chirruping  were  deafening, 
and  quarrels  raged  fiercely  all  along  the  branches. 
I  noticed  that  the  centre  of  the  tree  was  left  empty, 
and  that  the  birds  edged  and  sidled  out  as  far 
as  ever  they  could  get  on  to  its  slenderest  branches. 
All  the  squabbles  arose  from  the  ardent  desire  with 
which  each  bird  was  apparently  filled  to  be  the 
very  last  on  the  branch  and  so  the  nearest  to  its 
extreme  tip.  It  can  easily  be  understood  that 
such  thin  twigs  could  not  stand  the  weight  of 
these  crowding  little  creatures,  and  would  therefore 
bend  until  they  could  no  longer  cling  to  it,  and  so 
had  to  fly  off  and  return  to  search  for  another 
foothold.  I  had  watched  this  unusual  mode  of 
roosting  for  several  evenings,  without  getting  any 
nearer  to  the  truth  than  a  guess  that  the  struggle 
was  perhaps  to  secure  a  cool  and  airy  bed-place. 

One  hot  evening,  however,  we  lingered  longer 
in  what  the  negro  gardener  called  the  "  swinggers," 

R 


258  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

tempted  by  the  cool  darkness,  and  putting  off 
as  long  as  possible  the  time  of  lights  and  added 
heat,  and  swarming  winged  ants,  and  moths,  and 
mosquitoes.  We  had  begun  to  think  how  de- 
lightful it  would  be  to  have  no  dinner  at  all,  but 
just  to  stay  there,  gently  swaying  to  and  fro  all 
night,  when  we  saw  a  shadow — for  at  first  it  seemed 
nothing  more — dart  from  among  the  shadows 
around  us,  and  move  swiftly  up  the  trunk  of  the 
tree.  At  first  I  thought  it  must  be  a  huge  rat, 
but  my  dear  companion  whispered,  "  Look  at 
the  mongoose ! "  So  we  sat  still,  watching  it 
with  closest  attention.  Soon  it  was  lost  in  the 
dense  central  foliage,  and  we  wondered  at  the 
profound  stillness  of  that  swarming  mass  of  birds, 
who  had  not  long  settled  into  quiet.  Our  poor 
human,  inadequate  eyes  had,  however,  become 
so  accustomed  to  the  gloom  by  its  gradual  growth, 
that  presently  we  could  plainly  observe  a  flattened- 
out  object  stealthily  creeping  along  an  out-lying 
bough.  It  was  quite  a  breathless  moment,  for 
no  shadow  could  have  moved  more  noiselessly 
than  that  crawling  creature.  Even  as  we  watched, 
the  bough  softly  and  gradually  bent  beneath  the 
added  weight,  but  still  the  mongoose  stole  on- 
wards. No  little  sleeping  ball  of  feathers  was 
quite  within  reach,  so  yet  another  step  must  needs 
be  taken  along  the  slender  branch.  To  my  joy 
that  step  was  fatal  to  the  hopes  of  the  brigand 


BIRD   NOTES  259 

beast,  for  the  bough  dipped  suddenly,  and  the 
mongoose  had  to  cling  to  it  for  dear  life,  whilst 
every  bird  flew  off  with  sharp  cries  of  alarm  which 
effectually  roused  the  whole  population  of  the 
aerial  city,  and  the  air  was  quite  darkened  round 
the  tree  by  fluttering,  half-awakened  birds. 

It  was  plain  now  to  see  the  reason  of  the  pro- 
ceedings which  had  so  puzzled  me,  and  once  more 
I  felt  inclined  to— as  the  Psalmist  phrases  it— 
"lay  my  hand  on  my  mouth  and  be  still,"  in 
wonder  and  admiration  of  the  adaptable  instincts 
of  birds.  How  long  had  it  taken  these  little  help- 
less creatures  to  discover  that  their  only  safety 
lay  in  just  such  tactics,  and  what  sense  guided 
them  in  choosing  exactly  the  one  tree  which  pos- 
sessed slender  and  yielding  branch-tips  which 
were  yet  strong  enough  to  support  their  weight  ? 
They  were  just  settling  down  again  when  horrid 
clamorous  bells  insisted  on  our  going  back  into 
a  hot,  lighted-up  house,  and  facing  the  additional 
miseries  of  dressing  and  dinner.  Though  we 
carefully  watched  that  same  tree  and  its  roosting 
crowds  for  many  weeks,  we  never  again  saw  the 
mongoose  attempt  to  get  his  supper  there,  so  I 
suppose  he  must  also  be  credited  with  sufficient 
cleverness  to  know  when  he  was  beaten. 

A  Toucan  does  not  often  figure  in  a  list  of  tame 
birds,  and  I  cannot  conscientiously  recommend 
it  as  a  pet.  Mine  came  from  Venezuela  and  was 


260  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

given  to  me  soon  after  our  arrival  in  Trinidad.  It 
must  have  been  caught  very  young,  for  it  was 
perfectly  tame,  and,  if  you  did  not  object  to  its 
sharp  claws,  would  sit  contentedly  on  your  hand. 
The  body  was  about  as  big  as  that  of  a  crow,  but 
it  may  be  described  as  a  short,  stout  bird,  with  a 
beak  as  large  as  its  body.  Upon  the  shining  surface 
of  this  proboscis  was  crowded  all  the  colours 
certainly  of  the  rainbow,  blended  in  a  prismatic 
scale.  The  toucan's  plumage  would  be  dingy  if 
it  were  not  so  glossy,  and  it  was  of  a  blue-black 
hue  with  white  feathers  in  the  wings  and  just  a 
little  orange  under  the  throat  to  shade  off  the 
bill,  as  it  were.  Some  toucans  have  large  fleshy 
excrescences  at  the  root  of  the  bill,  but  this  one  and 
those  I  saw  in  Trinidad  had  not. 

The  toucan  was,  however,  an  amiable  and,  at 
first,  a  silent  bird.  He  lived  in  a  very  large  cage, 
chiefly  on  fruit,  and  tubbed  constantly.  But  the 
curious  and  amusing  thing  was  to  see  him  pre- 
paring to  roost,  and  he  began  quite  early,  whilst 
other  birds  were  still  wide  awake.  The  first  thing 
was  to  carefully  cock  up — for  it  was  a  slow  and 
cautious  proceeding — his  absurd  little  scut  of  a 
tail  which  was  only  about  three  or  four  inches 
long.  This  must  in  some  way  have  affected  his 
balance,  for  he  never  moved  on  the  perch  after 
the  tail  had  been  laid  carefully  back.  Then,  later 
in  the  evening,  he  gently  turned  the  huge  unwieldy 


BIRD   NOTES  261 

bill  round  by  degrees,  until  it  too  was  laid  along 
his  back  and  buried  in  feathers  in  the  usual  bird 
fashion.  By  the  way,  I  have  always  wondered 
how  and  why  the  myth  arose  that  birds  sleep 
with  their  heads  under  their  wings  ?  A  moment's 
thought  or  observation  would  show  that  it  is  quite 
as  impossible  a  feat  for  a  bird  as  for  a  human  being. 
However,  the  toucan's  sleeping  arrangements  re- 
sulted in  producing  an  oval  mass  of  feathers  sup- 
ported on  one  leg,  looking  as  unlike  a  bird  as  it 
is  possible  to  imagine.  When  he  was  ruthlessly 
awakened  by  a  sudden  poke  or  noise,  which  I 
grieve  to  state  was  often  done — in  my  absence, 
needless  to  say — I  heard  that  he  invariably  tumbled 
down  in  a  sprawling  heap,  being  unable  to  adjust 
the  balance  required  by  that  ponderous  bill  all 
in  a  moment. 

For  many  months  after  his  arrival  the  toucan 
was  at  least  an  unobjectionable  pet  and  very 
affectionate.  He  used  to  gently  take  my  fingers 
in  his  large  gaudy  bill  and  nibble  them  softly 
without  hurting  me,  but  I  never  could  help  thinking 
what  a  pinch  he  might  give  if  he  liked.  His  in- 
offensive ways,  however,  only  lasted  while  he  was 
very  young,  for  in  due  course  of  time  he  began  to 
utter  discordant  yells  and  shrieks,  especially  during 
the  luncheon  hour.  This  could  not  be  borne,  and 
the  house-steward — a  most  dignified  functionary — 
used  to  advance  towards  the  cage  in  a  stately  manner 


262  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

with  a  tumbler  of  water  concealed  behind  his 
back  which  he  would  suddenly  fling  over  the 
screaming  bird.  The  toucan  soon  learned  what 
Mr.  V.'s  appearance  before  his  cage  meant,  and 
always  ceased  his  screaming  at  the  mere  sight  of 
an  empty  tumbler.  These  sudden  douches,  or  else 
his  adolescence,  must  have  had  a  bad  effect  on 
his  temper,  for  he  could  no  longer  be  petted  and 
played  with,  and  any  finger  put  within  reach  of 
his  bill  suffered  severely.  Then  he  got  ill,  poor 
bird,  and  the  Portuguese  cook  was  called  in  to 
doctor  him.  But  the  remedies  seemed  so  heroic 
that  I  determined  to  send  the  toucan  away.  I 
could  not  turn  him  loose  in  the  garden  on  account 
of  his  piercing  screams,  so  he  was  caught  when 
asleep,  packed  in  a  basket,  and  conveyed  to  the 
nearest  high  woods,  where  he  was  set  at  liberty, 
and  I  can  only  hope  he  lived  happy  ever  after, 
as  a  less  gaudy  and  beauteous  variety  of  toucan 
is  to  be  found  in  those  virgin  forests. 

As  might  naturally  be  expected,  there  are  many 
beautiful  birds  in  the  large  botanical  gardens  of 
Trinidad  in  the  midst  of  which  Government  House 
stands.  It  used  to  be  a  great  delight  to  me  to 
watch  the  darting  orioles  flash  past  in  all  their 
golden  beauty,  and  some  lovely,  brilliantly  blue, 
birds  were  also  occasionally  to  be  seen  among 
the  trees.  I  was  given  some  of  these,  but  alas! 
they  never  lived  in  captivity,  and  after  one  or 


BIRD   NOTES  263 

two  unsuccessful  efforts  I  always  let  them  out  of 
the  cage.  The  ubiquitous  sparrow  was  there  of 
course,  and  so  was  a  rather  larger  black  and  yellow 
bird  called  the  "  qu'est-ce  que  dit  ?  "  from  its 
incessant  cry. 

In  these  gardens  the  orioles  built  their  large 
clumsy  nests  of  dried  grass  without  any  precaution 
against  surprises  ;  but  I  was  told  that  in  the  interior 
of  the  island,  where  snakes  abound,  the  "  corn- 
bird  " — as  he  is  called  up-country — has  found  it 
expedient  to  hang  his  nest  at  the  end  of  a  sort 
of  grass  rope  some  six  feet  long.  This  forms  a 
complete  protection  against  snakes,  as  the  rope 
is  so  slightly  put  together  that  no  wise  serpent 
would  trust  himself  on  it.  Sometimes  the  oriole 
finds  he  has  woven  too  large  a  nest,  so  he  half  fills 
it  with  leaves,  but  after  heavy  rains  these  make 
the  structure  so  heavy  that  it  often  falls  to  the 
ground,  and  from  this  cause  I  became  possessed 
of  one  or  two  of  these  nests  with  their  six  or  eight 
feet  of  dangling  rope.  Anything  so  quaint  as 
these  numerous  nests  swinging  from  the  topmost 
branches  of  lofty  trees  cannot  well  be  imagined. 
It  is  impossible  to  reach  them  by  climbing  or 
in  any  other  way  except  shooting  away  the  slender 
straw  rope,  which  rifle-feat  might  surely  rank 
with  winning  the  Queen's  Prize  at  Bisley  ! 

It  has  always  interested  me  to  examine  birds' 
nests  in  the  different  colonies  to  which  the  wander- 


264  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

ing  star  of  my  fate  has  led  me,  and  I  have  observed 
a  curious  similarity  between  the  houses  made 
with  and  without  hands.  For  instance,  take  a 
bird's  nest  in  England,  where  human  habitations 
are  solid  and  carefully  finished,  and  you  will  see 
an  equal  finish  and  solidity  in  the  neatly  constructed 
nest  with  its  warm  lining  and  lichen-decorated 
exterior.  Then  look  at  a  bird's  nest  in  a  colony 
with  its  hastily  constructed  houses  made  of  any 
slight  and  portable  material.  You  will  find  the 
majority  of  birds'  nests  equally  makeshift  in  char- 
acter and  style,  just  loosely  put  together  anyhow 
with  dried  grass,  and  evidently  only  meant  for 
temporary  use.  I  saw  one  such  nest  of  which  the 
back  must  have  tumbled  out,  for  a  fresh  leaf  had 
been  neatly  sewn  over  the  large  hole  with  fibre. 
In  strong  contrast,  however,  to  such  hastily  con- 
structed bird-dwellings  was  a  nest  of  the  "  schnee- 
vogel "  which  came  to  me  from  the  foot  of  the 
Drakenberg  Mountains  in  Natal.  Beautifully  made 
of  sheep's  wool,  it  had  all  the  consistency  of  fine  felt. 
It  was  a  small  hanging  nest,  but  what  I  delighted 
in  was  the  little  outside  pocket  in  which  the  father 
of  the  family  must  have  been  wont  to  sit.  The 
mouth  of  that  nest  was  so  exceedingly  small  that 
at  first  I  thought  that  no  bird  bigger  than  a  bee 
could  possibly  have  fitted  into  it,  but  I  found  that 
it  expanded  quite  easily,  so  elastic  was  the  material. 
One  could  quite  picture  the  domestic  comfort, 


BIRD   NOTES  265 

especially  in  so    cold    and    inhospitable    a  region, 
of  that  tiny  menage. 

I  always  longed  to  make  a  journey  to  the  north- 
west of  Western  Australia  expressly  to  see  the 
so-called  "  bower-bird  "  at  play.  This  would  have 
necessitated  very  early  rising  on  my  part,  how- 
ever, for  only  at  dawn  does  this  bird — not  the 
true  bower-bird,  by  any  means — come  out  of  his 
nest  proper,  and  lie  on  his  back  near  the  heap 
of  snail  shells,  &c.  which  he  has  collected  in  front 
of  his  hastily  thrown-up  wind-shelter,  to  play  with 
his  toys.  It  is  marvellous  the  distance  those 
birds  will  carry  anything  of  a  bright  colour  to 
add  to  their  heap,  and  active  quarrels  over  a 
brilliant  leaf  or  berry  have  been  observed.  A 
shred  of  red  flannel  from  some  explorer's  shirt 
or  blanket  is  a  priceless  treasure  to  the  bower- 
bird  and  eagerly  annexed.  But  the  wind-shelter  of 
coarse  grass  always  seemed  to  me  quite  as  curious 
as  the  heap  of  playthings.  The  photographs 
show  me  these  shelters  as  being  somewhat  pointed 
in  shape,  very  large  in  proportion  to  the  bird,  and 
with  an  opening  something  like  the  side-door  in 
a  little  old-fashioned  English  country  church. 
This  habit  of  hastily  throwing  up  wind-shelters 
is  not  confined  to  this  bird  only.  I  was  given 
some  smaller  birds  from  the  interior  of  Western 
Australia,  and  at  the  season  of  the  strong  north- 
west gales — such  a  horrible,  hot  wind  as  that 


266  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

was — I  found  my  little  birds  loved  to  have  a  lot 
of  hay  thrown  into  their  big  cage  with  which  in 
a  single  morning  they  would  build  a  large  con- 
struction resembling  a  huge  nest,  out  of  all  pro- 
portion to  their  size.  At  first  I  thought  it  was 
an  effort  at  nest-building,  but  as  they  constantly 
pulled  it  to  pieces,  and  never  used  it  except  in  a 
high  wind,  it  was  plain  to  see  that  their  object 
was  only  to  obtain  a  temporary  shelter. 

Next  to  the  brilliant  Gouldian  finches,  which, 
by  the  way,  were  called  "  painted  finches  "  locally, 
I  loved  the  small  blue-eyed  doves  from  the  north- 
west of  Australia  better  than  any  other  of  my 
feathered  pets.  These  little  darlings  lived  by 
themselves,  and  from  the  original  pair  given  to 
me  I  reared  a  large  and  numerous  family.  They 
were  igentle  and  sweet  as  doves  should  be,  of  a 
lovely  pearl-grey  plumage,  with  not  only  blue 
eyes,  but  large  turquoise-blue  wattles  round  them, 
so  that  the  effect  they  made  was  indeed  blue-eyed. 
They  met  with  a  tragic  fate,  for  I  turned  some 
eight  or  ten  pair  loose  in  the  large  garden  grounds 
of  the  Perth  Government  House.  Alas !  within 
a  week  of  their  being  set  at  liberty  not  one  was 
left.  They  were  much  too  confidingly  tame  to 
fend  for  themselves  in  this  cold  and  cruel  world. 
Half-wild  cats  ate  some,  hawks  pounced  on  others, 
but  the  saddest  of  all  the  sudden  deaths  arose 
from  their  love  of  me.  Whenever  I  was  to  be 


BIRD   NOTES  267 

seen,  even  inside  the  house,  a  dove  would  fly  to 
me  and  dash  itself  against  the  plate-glass  windows, 
falling  dead  in  the  verandah.  They  did  not  seem 
able  to  judge  distance  at  all,  and  it  was  grievous 
to  know  they  met  their  death  through  their  de- 
votion to  their  mistress  and  friend. 

A  dozen  miles  to  windward,  opposite  the  flourish- 
ing port  of  Freemantle,  Western  Australia,  lies 
a  little  island  with  a  lighthouse  on  it,  known  on 
charts  and  *maps  as  Rottnest.  It  is  astonishing 
what  a  difference  of  temperature  those  few  miles 
out  to  sea  make,  and  on  this  tiny  islet  was  our 
delightful  summer  home,  for  one  of  the  earliest 
governors  had  built,  years  before,  a  little  stone 
house  on  a  charming  site  looking  across  the 
bay* 

I  was  comparatively  petless  over  there,  for  I 
could  not  well  drag  large  cages  of  birds  about 
after  me,  when  it  was  difficult  enough  to  convey 
chickens  and  ducks  across  the  somewhat  stormy 
channel,  so  I  hailed  with  delight  the  offer,  made 
by  a  little  island  boy,  of  a  half-fledged  hawk,  as 
tame  as  it  is  in  a  hawk's  nature  to  be.  There 
was  no  question  of  a  cage,  and  I  am  sure  "  Alonzo  " 
would  not  have  submitted  to  such  an  indignity 
for  a  moment,  so  he  was  established  on  a  perch 
in  a  sheltered  corner  of  the  upstair  verandah  out- 
side my  bedroom  door.  I  fed  him  at  short  inter- 
vals— for  he  was  very  voracious — with  raw  meat, 


268  COLONIAL  MEMORIES 

and  he  took  rapid  gulps  from  a  saucer  of  water ; 
but  he  sat  motionless  on  his  perch  all  day,  only 
coming  on  my  hand  for  his  meals.  This  went  on 
for  two  or  three  weeks,  when  one  morning  at 
earliest  daylight  I  heard  an  unusual  noise  in  the 
verandah,  and  just  got  out  in  time  to  see  my  little 
hawk  spreading  his  wings  and  sailing  off  into 
space.  He  had,  however,  been  wise  enough  to 
devour  all  the  meat  left  in  readiness  for  his  break- 
fast. Of  course  I  gave  him  up  for  lost  and  went 
back  to  bed  thinking  sadly  of  the  ingratitude 
and  heartlessness  of  hawk  nature.  I  certainly 
never  expected  to  see  my  bird  again,  but  a  few 
hours  later,  as  I  was  standing  in  the  verandah, 
I  stretched  out  my  hand  as  far  as  I  could  reach, 
when  lo  !  the  little  hawk  dropped  like  a  stone 
from  the  cloudless  blue  and  sat  on  my  arm  as 
composedly  as  if  he  had  never  left  the  shelter  of 
his  home.  It  is  needless  to  say  that  the  return 
of  the  prodigal  called  forth  the  same  rapturous 
greeting  and  good  dinner  as  of  yore.  After  that 
it  became  an  established  custom  that  I  should  every 
evening  put  a  saucer  of  chopped-up  raw  meat 
on  a  table  in  the  verandah  just  outside  my  window, 
and  a  pannikin  of  water  to  serve  for  the  hawk's 
early  breakfast,  but  he  foraged  for  himself  all 
day,  coming  back  at  dusk  to  roost  in  the  verandah. 
It  was  curious  to  watch  his  return,  for  he  generally 
made  many  attempts  before  he  could  hit  off  the 


BIRD   NOTES  269 

exact  slope  of  the  roof  so  as  to  get  beneath  it. 
After  each  failure  he  would  soar  away  out  of  sight, 
but  only  to  return  and  circle  round  the  house 
until  he  had  determined  how  low  to  stoop,  and 
then  like  a  flash  he  darted  beneath  the  projecting 
eaves.  Apparently  it  was  necessary  to  make  but 
the  one  effort,  for  there  was  no  popping  in  and 
out  or  uncertainty,  just  one  majestic  swoop,  and 
he  would  be  on  his  perch,  as  rigid  and  unruffled 
as  though  he  had  never  left  it. 

When  our  delicious  summer  holiday  was  over, 
and  the  day  of  return  to  the  mainland  fixed,  it 
became  an  anxious  question  what  to  do  with  the 
hawk.  To  take  him  with  us  was  of  course  out  of 
the  question,  but  to  leave  him  behind  was  heart- 
rending. Not  only  should  I  miss  the  accustomed 
clatter  of  saucer  and  pannikin  at  earliest  streak 
of  dawn,  but  not  once  did  I  ever  hold  my  hand 
out  during  the  day  that  he  did  not  drop  on  it  at 
once.  He  never  could  have  been  far  off,  although 
no  eye  could  follow  him  into  the  deep  blue  dome 
where  he  seemed  to  live,  poised  in  the  dazzling 
sunshiny  air.  But  "  Alonzo  "  settled  the  question 
for  himself  a  couple  of  days  before  we  left,  by 
suddenly  deserting  his  old  home  and  leaving  his 
breakfast  untouched.  We  watched  in  vain  for 
his  return  on  two  successive  evenings,  nor  did  he 
drop  on  my  hand  for  the  last  two  days  of  our 
stay.  I  then  remembered  that  on  the  last  evening 


270  COLONIAL  MEMORIES 

he  had  come  home  to  roost  I  had  noticed  another 
hawk  with  him,  and  rather  wondered  if  he  intended 
to  set  up  an  establishment  in  the  verandah.  But 
I  suppose  the  bride-elect  found  fault  with  the 
situation,  and  probably  said  that,  though  well 
enough  for  a  bachelor,  it  was  not  suitable  for 
the  upbringing  of  a  family,  and  so  the  new 
home  had  to  be  started  in  a  more  secluded 
spot,  and  the  sheltering  roof  knew  its  wild  guest 
no  more. 

I  am  afflicted  with  a  cockatoo  !  I  can't  "  curse 
him  and  cast  him  out,"  for  in  the  first  place  I 
love  him  dearly,  and  in  the  next  he  is  a  sort  of 
orphan  grandchild  towards  whom  I  have  serious 
duties  and  responsibilities.  And  then  he  arrived 
at  such  a  moment,  when  every  heart  was  softened 
by  the  thought  of  the  Soudan  Campaign  with 
its  frightful  risks  and  dangers.  How  could  one 
turn  away  a  suppliant  cockatoo  who  suddenly 
and  unexpectedly  presented  himself  on  the  eve 
of  the  Battle  of  Omdurman,  with  a  ticket  to  say 
his  owner  had  gone  up  to  the  front  and  he  was 
left  homeless  in  Cairo  ?  It  would  have  been 
positively  brutal,  and  then  he  was  the  friendliest 
of  birds  !  No  shyness  or  false  pride  about  him. 
He  had  already  invited  my  pretty  little  cook  to 
"  kiss  him  and  love  him,"  and  was  paying  the 
housemaid  extravagant  compliments  when  I  ap- 
peared on  the  scene.  To  say  he  flew  into  his 


BIRD   NOTES  271 

grandmother's  arms  is  but  feebly  to  express  the 
dutiful  warmth  of  his  greeting.  In  less  than  ten 
minutes  that  artful  bird  had  taken  complete  pos- 
session of  the  small  household,  and  assumed  his 
place  as  its  head  and  master.  Ever  since  that 
moment  he  has  reigned  supreme,  and  I  foresee  that 
he  will  always  so  reign. 

But  he  certainly  is  the  most  mischievous  and 
destructive  of  his  mischievous  species.  Nothing 
is  safe  from  his  sudden  and  unexpected  fits  of 
energy.  I  first  put  him  in  a  little  conservatory 
where  he  had  light  and  air,  and  the  cheerful  society 
of  other  birds.  This  plan,  however,  only  worked 
for  two  or  three  days.  One  Sunday  morning  I 
was  awakened  by  ear-piercing  shrieks  and  yells 
from  Master  Cockie,  only  slightly  softened  by 
distance.  These  went  on  for  some  time  until  I 
perceived  a  gradual  increase  of  their  jubilant  note, 
which  I  felt  sure  betokened  mischief,  so  I  hastily 
got  myself  into  a  dressing-gown  and  slippers  and 
started  off  to  investigate  what  trouble  was  "  toward." 
It  was  so  early  that  the  glass  doors  were  still  shut, 
and  I  was  able  to  contemplate  Master  Cockie's 
manoeuvres  unseen.  The  floor  of  the  little  green- 
house was  strewn  with  fern-leaves,  for  gardening, 
or  rather  pruning,  had  evidently  been  his  first 
idea.  The  door  of  his  travelling  cage — which  I 
had  left  overnight  securely  fastened — lay  flat  on 
the  pavement,  and  Cockie  with  extended  wings 


272  COLONIAL  MEMORIES 

was  solemnly  executing  a  sort  of  pas  seul  in  front 
of  another  cage  divided  by  partitions,  in  which 
dwelt  a  goldfinch  and  a  bullfinch  side  by  side.  Both 
doors  were  wide  open  and  the  bullfinch's  com- 
partment was  empty,  but  the  goldfinch  was  crouched, 
paralysed  with  terror,  on  the  floor  of  his  abode. 
He  evidently  wanted  to  get  out  very  badly,  but 
did  not  dare  to  pass  the  yelling  doorkeeper,  who 
apparently  was  inviting  the  trembling  little  bird 
to  come  forth.  The  instant  the  artful  villain 
perceived  me,  he  affected  perfect  innocence  and 
harmlessness,  returning  instantly  to  his  cage, 
and  commencing  his  best  performance  of  a  flock 
of  sheep  passing,  doubtless  in  order  to  distract 
my  attention.  How  could  one  scold  with  deserved 
severity  a  mimic  who  took  off  not  only  the  barking 
dogs  and  bleating  sheep,  but  the  very  shuffle  of 
their  feet,  and  the  despairing  cry  of  a  lost  lamb. 
And  he  pretended  great  joy  when  the  bullfinch — 
more  dead  than  alive — at  last  emerged  from  the 
shelter  of  a  thick  creeper  where  he  had  found 
sanctuary,  asking  repeatedly  after  his  health  in 
persuasive  tones. 

I  gave  up  the  cage  after  that  and  established 
him  on  a  smart  stand  in  the  dining-room  window  ; 
for  I  found  that  the  birds  in  the  conservatory 
literally  could  not  bear  the  sight  of  him.  A  light 
chain  securely  fastened  on  his  leg  promised  safety, 
but  he  contrived  to  get  within  reach  of  my  new 


BIRD   NOTES  273 

curtains  and  rapidly  devoured  some  half-yard  or 
so  of  a  hand-painted  border  which  was  the  pride 
of  my  heart.  Then  came  an  interval  of  calm  and 
exemplary  behaviour  which  lulled  me  into  a  false 
security.  Cockie  seemed  to  have  but  one  object 
in  life,  which  was  to  pull  out  all  his  own  feathers, 
and  by  evening  the  dining-room  often  looked  as 
though  a  white  fowl  had  been  plucked  in  it.  I 
consulted  a  bird  doctor,  but  as  Cockie's  health 
was  perfectly  good,  and  his  diet  all  that  could  be 
recommended,  it  was  supposed  he  only  plucked 
himself  for  want  of  occupation,  and  firewood  was 
recommended  as  a  substitute.  This  answered  very 
well,  and  he  spent  his  leisure  in  gnawing  sticks  of 
deal ;  only  when  no  one  chanced  to  be  in  the  room 
he  used  to  unfasten  the  swivel  of  his  chain,  leave 
it  dangling  on  the  stand,  and  descend  in  search 
of  his  playthings.  When  the  fire  had  not  been 
lighted  I  often  found  half  the  coals  pulled  out  of 
the  grate,  and  the  firewood  in  splinters.  At  last, 
with  warmer  weather,  both  coals  and  wood  were 
removed,  so  the  next  time  Master  Cockie  found 
himself  short  of  a  job  he  set  to  work  on  the  dining- 
room  chairs,  first  pulled  out  all  their  bright  nails, 
and  next  tore  holes  in  the  leather,  through  which 
he  triumphantly  dragged  the  stuffing  ! 

At  one  time  he  went  on  a  visit  for  some  weeks 
and  ate  up  everything  within  his  reach  in  that 
friendly  establishment,  His  "  bag  "  for  one  after- 

s 


274 


COLONIAL   MEMORIES 


noon  consisted  of  a  venerable  fern  and  a  large 
palm,  some  library  books,  newspapers,  a  pack 
of  cards,  and  an  armchair.  And  yet  every  one 
adores  him,  and  he  is  the  spoiled  child  of  more 
than  one  family. 


XVIII 
HUMOURS  OF  BIRD  LIFE 

"  Birds  in  their  little  nests  agree." 

DR.  WATTS,  though  doubtless  an  excellent  and 
estimable  divine,  must  have  had  but  little  experi- 
ence of  the  ways  and  manners  of  birds  when  he 
wrote  this  oft-quoted  line.  Birds  are  really  the 
most  quarrelsome  and  pugnacious  creatures  amongst 
themselves,  though  they  are  capable  of  great  affec- 
tion and  amiability  towards  the  human  beings 
who  befriend  them. 

I  have  always  been  a  passionate  bird-lover, 
and  have  had  opportunities  of  keeping,  in  what  I 
hope  and  believe  has  been  a  comfortable  captivity, 
many  and  various  kinds  of  birds  in  different  lands. 
My  first  experience  of  an  aviary  on  a  large  and 
luxurious  scale  was  in  Mauritius,  many  years  ago, 
and  was  brought  about  by  the  gift  of  a  magnificent 
and  enormous  cage,  elaborately  carved  by  Arab 
workmen.  It  was  more  like  a  small  temple  than 
anything  else.  But  the  first  steps  to  be  taken 
were  to  make  it,  so  to  speak,  bird-proof,  for  the 
ambitious  architect  had  left  many  openings  in 


275 


276  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

his  various  minarets  and  turrets,  through  which 
birds  could  easily  have  escaped. 

Regarded  as  a  cage  it  was  not  a  success,  for 
it  was  really  difficult  to  see  the  birds  through  the 
profuse  ornamentation  of  the  panelled  sides.  How- 
ever, I  stood  it  in  a  wide  and  sunny  verandah, 
and  proceeded  to  instal  the  birds  I  already  pos- 
sessed in  this  splendid  dwelling.  I  had  brought 
some  beautiful  little  blue  and  fawn-coloured  finches 
from  Madeira,  and  I  had  a  few  canaries.  Gifts 
of  other  birds  soon  arrived  from  all  quarters  ;  a 
sort  of  half-bred  canary  from  Aden — there  were  a 
dozen  of  those — and  many  pretty  little  local  birds. 
I  made  them  as  happy  as  I  could  with  endless 
baths,  and  gave  them,  besides  the  ordinary  bird 
seed,  bunches  of  native  grasses,  and  even  weeds 
in  blossom,  which  they  greedily  ate.  The  little 
Aden  birds  would  not  look  at  water  for  bathing 
purposes.  They  came  from  a  "  dry  and  thirsty 
land,  where  no  water  is,"  and  evidently  regarded 
it  as  a  precious  beverage  to  be  kept  for  drinking. 
They  had  to  be  accommodated  with  little  heaps 
of  finely  powdered  earth,  in  which  they  disported 
themselves  bath-fashion,  to  the  deep  amazement 
of  the  other  birds. 

But  how  those  birds  quarrelled  !  At  roosting- 
time  they  all  seemed  to  want  one  particular  spot 
on  one  particular  perch,  and  nothing  else  would 
do.  All  day  long  they  quarrelled  over  their  baths 


HUMOURS  OF  BIRD   LIFE  277 

and  their  food,  and  the  only  advantage  of  the 
ample  space  they  enjoyed  was  to  give  them  more 
room  to  chase  each  other  about.  They  all  insisted 
on  using  one  especial  bath  at  the  same  moment, 
and  would  not  look  at  any  other,  though  all  the 
baths  were  exactly  alike.  One  fine  day  a  batch 
of  tiny  parrakeets  from  a  neighbouring  island 
arrived,  and  I  congratulated  myself  on  having  at 
last  acquired  some  amiable  members  of  my  bird 
community.  Such  gentle  creatures  were  never  seen. 
With  their  pale-green  plumage  and  the  little  grey- 
hooded  heads  which  easily  explained  their  name 
of  "  capuchin,"  they  made  themselves  quite  happy 
in  one  of  the  many  domes  or  cupolas  of  the  Arab 
cage.  In  a  few  days,  however,  a  mysterious  ail- 
ment broke  out  among  all  the  other  birds.  Nearly 
every  bird  seemed  suddenly  to  prefer  going  about 
on  one  leg.  This  did  not  surprise  me  very  much 
at  first,  as  the  mosquitoes  used  to  bite  their  little 
legs  cruelly,  and  I  was  always  contriving  net 
curtains,  &c.,  to  keep  these  pests  out.  At  last 
it  dawned  on  me  that  many  of  the  canaries  had 
actually  only  one  leg.  An  hour's  careful  watching 
showed  me  a  parrakeet  sidling  up  to  a  canary, 
and  after  feigning  to  be  deeply  absorbed  in  its 
own  toilet,  preening  each  gay  wing-feather  most 
carefully,  the  little  wretch  would  give  a  sudden 
swift  nip  at  the  slender  leg  of  its  neighbour,  and 
absolutely  bite  it  off  then  and  there.  Of  course 


278  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

I  immediately  turned  the  capuchins  out  of  the 
cage  with  much  obloquy,  but  too  late  to  save 
several  of  my  poor  little  pets  from  a  one-legged 
existence. 

I  had  also  several  parrots  and  cockatoos,  but 
they  had  to  be  kept  as  much  as  possible  out  of 
earshot,  for  their  eldritch  yells  and  shrieks  were 
too  great  an  addition  to  the  burden  of  daily  life 
in  a  tropic  land. 

There  was  one  small  grey  and  red  parrot,  however, 
from  the  West  Coast  of  Africa,  which  was  different 
from  the  ordinary  screaming  green  and  yellow 
bird.  This  was  certainly  the  cleverest  little 
creature  of  its  kind  I  have  ever  seen.  Dingy  and 
shabby  as  to  plumage,  and  with  a  twisted  leg, 
its  powers  of  mimicry  were  unsurpassed.  It  picked 
up  everything  it  heard  directly,  and  my  only 
regret  was  that  it  appeared  to  forget  its  phrases 
very  quickly.  Before  it  had  been  two  days  in 
the  house  it  took  me  in  half-a-dozen  times  by 
imitating  exactly  the  impatient  peck  at  a  glass 
door  of  some  tame  peacocks,  who  always  invited 
themselves  to  "  five  o'clock-er."  I  used  to  go 
to  the  door  and  open  it ;  of  course  to  find  no 
peacocks  there,  for  they  were  punctuality  itself, 
and  never  came  near  the  house  at  any  other  time. 
After  the  pecks — exactly  reproduced  as  if  on 
glass — came  an  impatient  note,  followed  by  the 
exact  cry  of  an  indignant  peacock.  I  believe 


HUMOURS   OF   BIRD   LIFE  279 

that  grey  parrot  had  the  utmost  contempt  for 
my  mental  powers,  and  delighted  in  victimising  me. 
I  was  a  constant  sufferer  in  those  days  from 
malarial  fever,  and  when  convalescent  and  com- 
fortably settled  on  my  sofa  in  the  drawing-room, 
the  parrot  would  first  gently  cough  once  or  twice, 
then  sigh,  and  finally,  in  a  weak  voice,  call  "  Garde, 
Garde."  This  was  to  a  functionary  who  lived  in 
the  deep  verandahs,  and  whose  mission  in  life 
seemed  to  be  the  regulating  of  the  heavy  outside 
blinds  made  of  split  bamboo.  The  next  sound 
would  be  the  awkward  shuffling  of  heavy  boots 
(for  the  "  Garde  "  usually  went  barefoot,  except 
when  in  uniform  and  on  duty),  followed  by 
"  Madame."  Then  my  voice  again,  "  Levez  le 
rideau."  "  Bien,  Grande  Madame."  Then  you 
heard  the  creak  of  the  pulleys  as  the  curtain  was 
raised,  followed  by  the  Garde's  tramping  away 
again,  all  exactly  imitated. 

The  A.D.C.'s  way  of  calling  his  "  boy  "  (gene- 
rally a  middle-aged  man)  was  also  faithfully  rendered, 
beginning  in  a  very  mild  and  amiable  voice,  rising 
louder  as  no  "  boy  "  answered,  and  finally  a  sten- 
torian "  boy "  produced  a  very  frightened  and 
hurried  "  'Ci,  Monsieur  le  Capitaine,  'ci."  I  grieve 
to  say  this  performance  generally  ended  with  a 
confused  and  shuffling  sound  as  of  a  scrimmage. 

There  used  also  to  be  an  orderly  on  duty  out- 
side the  Governor's  office,  who,  once  upon  a  time, 


28o  COLONIAL  MEMORIES 

was  afflicted  with  a  violent  cold  in  his  head.  This 
malady,  and  his  primitive  methods  of  dealing  with 
it,  made  him  a  very  unpleasant  neighbour,  so 
his  Excellency  requested  the  Private  Secretary 
to  ask  for  another  orderly  without  a  cold  in  his 
head.  Of  course  this  was  immediately  done,  and 
the  desired  change  made,  but  not  before  Miss 
Polly  had  taken  notes.  Next  day  I  was  startled 
by  the  most  violent  outburst  of  sneezing  and 
coughing  in  the  verandah,  followed  by  other  trying 
sounds.  I  next  heard  a  plaintive  and  deeply 
injured  voice  from  the  Governor's  office — it  must 
be  remembered  that  every  door  and  window  is 
always  wide  open  in  a  tropic  house. 

"  I  thought  I  asked  for  that  man  to  be  changed." 

This  brought  the  Private  Secretary  hurriedly 
out  of  his  room,  to  be  confronted  by  a  small  grey 
parrot,  who  wound  up  the  performance  by  a  sort 
of  sob  of  exhaustion,  and  "  Ah  !  mon  Dieu  !  "  the 
real  orderly  standing  by,  looking  as  if  he  was 
considering  whether  or  no  he  ought  to  arrest  the 
culprit. 

One  likes  to  have  parrots  walking  about  quite 
tame,  free  and  unfettered,  but  it  is  an  impossibility 
if  a  garden  or  any  plants  are  within  reach,  for  the 
temptation  to  go  round  and  nip  off  every  leaf 
and  blossom,  and  even  stem,  seems  irresistible  to 
a  parrot  or  a  cockatoo. 

Soon  after  I  went  to  Western  Australia,  in  1883, 


HUMOURS   OF   BIRD   LIFE  281 

I  was  given  a  pair  of  beautiful  cockatoos  called 
by  the  natives  "  Jokolokals."  They  did  not  talk 
at  all,  but  were  lovely  to  look  at,  and  as  they  had 
never  been  kept  in  a  cage  and  were  reared  from 
the  nest,  they  were  perfectly  tame  and  their 
plumage  most  beautiful,  of  a  soft  creamy  white, 
with  crest  and  wing-lining  of  an  indescribable 
flame  tint.  I  never  saw  such  exquisite  colouring, 
and  they  looked  charming  on  the  grass  terraces 
during  the  day,  and  for  a  while  roosted  peaceably 
in  a  low  tree  at  night. 

But  one  morning,  early,  I  was  told  the  head- 
gardener  wished  to  speak  to  me,  and  he  was  with 
difficulty  induced  to  postpone  the  interview  until 
after  breakfast.  I  tremble  to  think  what  the 
expression  of  that  grim  Scotch  countenance  would 
have  been  at  first !  It  was  quite  severe  enough 
when  I  had  to  confront  him  a  couple  of  hours 
later.  The  Jokolokals  had  employed  a  long  bright 
moonlight  night  in  gardening  among  the  plants 
with  which  the  many  angles  and  corners  of  the 
wide  verandahs  were  filled,  and  such  utter  ruin  as 
they  had  wrought,  especially  among  the  camellias  ! 
Not  only  had  every  blossom  been  nipped  off,  but 
they  had  actually  gnawed  the  stems  through, 
and  few  pots  presented  more  than  an  inch  or  two 
of  stalk  to  my  horrified  eyes.  After  that — on 
the  principle  of  the  steed  and  the  stable-door — 
the  beautiful  villains  were  put  in  a  large  aviary 


282  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

out  of  doors,  and  revenged  themselves  by  awaking 
me  every  morning  at  daylight  by  fiendish  yells. 
The  gardener's  cottage  was  out  of  earshot. 

I  had  also  a  very  large  cage  of  canaries,  in  which 
they  lived  and  multiplied  exceedingly.  In  a  country 
where  there  are  no  song-birds  a  canary  is  much 
prized,  and  every  year  I  gave  away  a  great  many 
young  birds.  There  was  also  another  large  cage 
with  small  (and  very  quarrelsome)  finches,  in- 
cluding many  brilliant  Gouldian  finches  from  the 
North-west  (they  call  them  Painted  finches  there), 
a  tiny  zebra-marked  finch,  and  many  different 
little  birds  kindly  brought  to  me  from  Singapore 
and  other  places. 

However,  to  return  for  a  moment  to  the  cockatoos. 
The  large  white  Albany  cockatoo,  which  has  a  very 
curved  beak  and  wide  pale-blue  wattles  round  the 
eye,  talks  admirably,  and  is  easily  tamed  if  taken 
young.  In  spite  of  its  ferocious  beak  it  is  really 
quite  gentle,  and  mine — for  I  had  several — were 
only  too  affectionate,  insisting  on  more  petting 
and  notice  than  I  always  had  time  to  bestow. 

There  were  often  garden-parties  in  the  lovely 
grounds  of  the  Government  House  at  Perth,  and 
at  one  of  the  later  ones  some  of  my  guests  came  to 
me  complaining,  as  it  were,  of  the  weird  utterances 
of  the  Albany  cockatoo,  who  lived  with  other 
parrots  in  a  kind  of  wire  pagoda  among  the  vines. 
"  What  does  he  say  ?  "  I  asked  laughingly.  "  He 


HUMOURS  OF   BIRD   LIFE  283 

wants  to  know  if  we  like  birds,"  was  the  answer. 
So  I  immediately  went  down  to  the  cage,  and 
was  at  once  asked  by  the  cockatoo  in  a  very  earnest 
voice,  "  Do  you  like  birds  ?  "  Alas  for  the  want 
of  originality  in  the  human  race  !  He  had  heard 
exactly  that  remark  made  by  every  couple  who 
came  up  to  the  cage,  and  had  adopted  it.  My 
little  son  taught  that  bird  to  call  me  "  Mother," 
and  it  never  used  the  word  to  any  one  else.  If 
I  ever  passed  the  cage  without  stopping  to  play 
with  or  pet  the  cockatoos,  I  was  greeted  with 
indignant  cries  of  "  Mother,"  which  generally 
brought  me  back,  and  the  moment  I  opened  the 
door  the  big  cockatoo  would  throw  himself  on  his 
back  on  the  gravel  floor,  that  I  might  put  the 
point  of  my  shoe  on  his  breast  and  rub  his  back 
up  and  down  the  gravel.  -I  never  could  under- 
stand why  they  all  loved  that  mode  of  petting. 

But  the  Australian  magpie  is  one  of  the  most 
delightful  pets,  and  can  be  trusted  to  walk  about 
loose,  as  he  does  not  garden.  "  Break-of-d ay- 
boys  "  is  their  local  name,  and  it  fits  them  admir- 
ably. At  earliest  dawn  only  do  you  hear  the 
sweet  clear  whistle  which  is  their  native  note. 
They  learn  to  whistle  tunes  easily  and  correctly, 
but  nothing  can  be  compared  to  their  own  note. 
They  are  exactly  like  the  English  magpie  in  ap- 
pearance, only  a  little  larger.  I  had  a  very  tame 
one,  which  had1  been  taught  to  lie  on  its  back  on 


284  COLONIAL  MEMORIES 

a  plate  with  its  legs  held  stiffly  up  as  if  it  were 
dead.  I  have  a  photograph  of  it  in  that  attitude, 
and  no  one  will  belie've  me  when  I  assure  them 
the  bird  was  alive  ;  not  even  its  open  and  roguish 
eye  will  convince  them.  I  only  wish  the  sceptics 
had  been  by  when  I  clapped  my  hands  to  signify 
that  the  performance  was  over,  and  Mag  jumped 
up  like  a  flash  of  lightning  and  made  for  the  nearest 
human  foot,  into  the  instep  of  which  she  would 
dig  her  bill  viciously.  It  must  have  been  her  idea 
of  revenge,  for  she  never  did  so  at  any  other  time  ; 
and  she  scattered  the  spectators  pretty  swiftly,  I 
assure  you. 

Dear,  clever  Mag  was  lost  or  stolen  just  before 
we  left  Perth.  I  intended  to  have  brought  her  to 
England,  but  one  morning  I  was  informed  by  the 
sentry  that  he  could  not  see  her  anywhere,  and 
she  always  kept  near  him.  Further  and  anxious 
inquiries  elicited  that  she  had  been  observed  follow- 
ing a  newspaper  boy  near  the  back-gate.  The 
police  were  communicated  with,  and  the  result 
was  my  being  confronted  at  all  hours  of  the  day 
and  night  by  an  indignant  and  rumpled  mapgie 
tied  up  in  a  pocket-handkerchief,  who  loudly  pro- 
tested Itfiat  we  were  absolute  strangers  to  each 
other.  And  so  we  were,  for  among  the  numerous 
arrests  made  of  suspicious  characters  among  mag- 
pies, not  one  turned  out  to  be  my  poor  Maggie. 

But  I  must  not  loiter  too  long  over  my  West 


HUMOURS   OF   BIRD   LIFE  285 

Australian  aviary,  in  spite  of  the  great  temptation 
to  dwell  on  those  dear  distant  days.  I  brought 
a  small  travelling- cage  of  Gouldian  and  other  lovely 
finches  from  the  neighbourhood  of  Cambridge  Gulf 
home  with  me.  What  I  suffered  with  that  cage 
during  a  storm  in  the  Bay  of  Biscay  no  tongue  can 
tell.  However,  they  all  reached  London  in  safety, 
and  in  due  time  were  taken  out — also  with  great 
personal  trouble  and  difficulty — to  Trinidad.  Here 
they  were  luxuriously  established  in  four  large 
wired  compartments  over  the  great  porch  of 
Government  House.  No  birds  could  have  been 
happier.  The  finches  had  one  compartment  all 
to  themselves,  so  had  thq  canaries ;  whilst  the 
laughing  jackass,  another  Australian  magpie,  and 
a  beautiful  Indian  hill  mynah  occupied  a  third 
compartment,  the  fourth  being  brilliantly  filled 
by  troupials,  moriches,  and  sewing  crows  from 
Venezuela,  besides  many  lovely  local  birds  of 
exquisite  plumage. 

In  each  compartment  stood  large  boxes  and 
tubs  filled  with  growing  shrubs,  whilst  creepers, 
brought  up  from  the  luxuriant  growth  at  the 
pillars  below,  were  twined  in  the  fine  meshes  of 
the  netting.  Of  course  there  were  perches  and 
nests,  all  sizes  and  at  differing  heights.  It  was 
really  one  man's  business  to  attend  to  them,  but 
they  were  beautifully  kept.  Every  morning  the 
grasscutter  brought  in  a  large  bunch  of  the  waving 


286  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

plume-like  seed  of  the  tall  guinea  grass  ;  and  they 
had  plenty  of  fresh  fruit,  in  which  they  greatly 
delighted.  Of  course  they  quarrelled  over  it  all, 
and  a  fierce  battle  would  rage  over  half  an  orange, 
of  which  the  other  half  was  utterly  neglected. 

The  canaries  led  a  commonplace  existence  and 
had  only  one  adventure.  I  had  noticed  that  for 
some  few  weeks  past  the  numbers  of  these  little 
birds  seemed  rather  to  diminish  than  increase  at 
their  usual  rapid  rate.  But  I  saw  so  many  hens 
sitting  on  nests  very  high  up  that  I  accounted 
for  the  small  number  in  that  way.  However,  one 
day  a  perch  fell  dpwn,  and  the  black  attendant 
went  into  the  cage  with  a  tall  ladder  to  replace  it. 
Presently  I  heard  a  great  scrimmage  and  many 
"  Hi !  my  king !  "  and  other  agitated  ejaculations, 
which  soon  brought  me  to  the  spot.  It  was  indeed 
no  wonder  that  my  poor  little  birds  had  been 
disappearing  mysteriously,  for  there  was  a  large, 
well-fed,  but  harmless  snake.  It  must  have  got 
in  through  the  mesh  when  quite  young  and  small, 
but  had  now  grown  to  such  stout  proportions 
that  escape  through  the  wire  netting — which  would 
only  admit  the  very  tip  of  my  fourth  finger — was 
impossible,  and  it  was  easily  slain.  The  snake 
was  found  coiled  on  a  ledge  too  high  up  to  be 
easily  perceived  from  below. 

Soon  after  that  episode  the  little  finches  under- 
went a  sad  and  startling  experience.  One  morning 


HUMOURS   OF    BIRD    LIFE  287 

the  coachman  brought  me  in  a  beautiful  little  bird 
of  brilliant  plumage  which  I  had  never  seen  before. 
It  had  been  caught  in  the  saddle-room,  and  was 
certainly  a  lovely  creature,  though  unusually 
wild  and  terrified.  However,  I  was  so  accustomed 
to  new  arrivals  soon  making  themselves  perfectly 
at  home  and  becoming  quite  tame,  that  I  turned 
the  splendid  stranger  into  the  finches'  compart- 
ment with  no  misgivings,  and  went  away,  leaving 
them  to  make  friends,  as  I  hoped.  About  half- 
an-hour  later  I  passed  the  tall  French  window, 
carefully  netted  in,  which  opened  on  the  corridor, 
and  through  which  I  could  always  watch  my  little 
pets  unperceived.  My  attention  was  attracted 
by  two  or  three  curious  little  feathered  lumps  on 
the  gravelled  floor.  On  closer  examination  these 
proved  to  be  the  heads  of  some  of  my  especial 
favourites,  which  the  new  arrival  (a  member  of 
the  Shrike  family,  as  I  discovered  too  late)  had 
hastily  twisted  off.  Besides  these  murders  he  had 
found  time  to  go  round  the  nests  and  turn  out  all 
the  eggs  and  young  birds.  My  dismay  and  horror 
may  be  imagined,  but  I  could  not  stop,  for  luncheon 
and  guests  were  waiting.  I  hastily  begged  a  tall 
Irish  orderly  who  was  on  duty  in  the  hall  to  catch 
the  new-comer  and  let  him  go.  Now  this  man  loved 
my  birds  quite  as  much  as  I  did,  and  seemed  to 
spend  all  his  leisure-time  in  foraging  for  them. 
They  owed  him  many  tit-bits  in  the  shape  of 


288  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

wasps'  larvae  or  the  nursery  of  an  ants'  nest  nicely 
stocked,  or  some  delicacy  of  that  sort.  There  was 
only  time  for  a  hurried  order,  received  in  grim 
silence,  but  when  I  was  once  more  free  and  able 
to  inquire  how  matters  had  been  settled,  all  I 
could  get  out  of  O'Callaghan  was  :  "  I've  larned 
him  to  wring  little  birds'  necks." 

"  Did  you  catch  him  easily  ?  "  I  inquired. 

"  Quite  easily,  my  lady,  and  /  larned  him." 
This  in  a  voice  trembling  with  rage. 

"  What  have  you  done  to  him  ?  "  No  answer 
at  first,  only  a  murmur. 

"  But  I  want  to  know  what  has  happened  to 
that  bird,"  I  persisted'. 

"  Well,  my  lady,  I've  lamed  him ;  " — a  pause  ; 
"  I've  wrunged  his  neck." 

So  in  this  way  rough  and  ready  justice  had  been 
meted  out  to  the  wrong-doer  very  speedily. 

Perhaps  of  all  my  birds  the  one  I  called  the 
Sewing  Crow  was  the  most  amusing.  It  was  a 
glossy  black  bird  about  the  size  of  a  thrush,  with 
pale  yellow  tail  and  wing-feathers,  and  curious 
light  blue  eyes  with  very  blue  rims.  It  was  brought 
from  Venezuela,  and  its  local  Spanish  name  means 
"  The  Rice-bird,"  but  it  never  specially  affected 
rice  as  food,  preferring  fruit  and  mealworms.  I 
had  several  of  these  crows,  but  one  was  particularly 
tame,  and  rambled  about  the  house  seeking  for 
sewing  materials.  I  found  it  once  or  twice  inside 


HUMOURS  OF   BIRD   LIFE  289 

a  large  workbag  full  of  crewels,  where  it  had  gone 
in  search  of  gay  threads,  with  which  it  used  to 
decorate  the  wire  walls  of  an  empty  cage  kept 
in  the  verandah  outside  my  own  sitting-room. 
The  extraordinary  patience  and  ingenuity  of  that 
bird  in  passing  the  wool  through  the  meshes  of 
the  wire  can  hardly  be  described.  I  suppose  it 
was  a  reminiscence  of  nest-building,  because  it 
always  worked  harder  in  the  springtime.  It  had 
a  great  friend  in  a  little  "  moriche,"  black  and 
yellow  also,  but  of  a  more  slender  build,  and  with 
a  very  sweet  whistle.  The  "  moriche,"  too,  was 
perfectly  tame  and  flew  all  about  the  house,  and 
it  was  very  comic  to  watch  its  efforts  at  learning 
embroidery  from  its  friend.  It  arrived  at  last  at 
some  sort  of  cage  decoration,  but  quite  different 
from  that  of  the  crow,  who  evidently  disapproved 
of  it,  and  often  ruthlessly  pulled  the  work  of  a 
laborious  morning  on  the  "  moriche's "  part  to 
pieces.  Now  the  "  moriche "  knew  better  than 
to  touch  the  crow's  work,  though  he  often  appeared 
to  carefully  examine  it. 

One  day  the  crow  must  have  persuaded  the 
moriche  to  help  him  to  roll  and  drag  a  reel  of 
coarse  white  cotton  from  the  corridor  of  the  work- 
room, across  the  floor  of  my  sitting-room,  into  the 
verandah.  I  saw  them  doing  this  more  than 
once,  and  had  unintentionally  interfered  with  the 
crow's  plans  by  picking  up  the  reel  and  returning 

T 


2QQ  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

it  to  the  maids'  work-basket.  However,  one  after- 
noon the  crow  got  rid  of  me  entirely,  and  on  my 
return  from  a  long  expedition  I  found  both  the  crow 
and  moriche  just  going  to  roost  in  the  empty  cage, 
which  was  really  only  kept  there  for  them  to  play 
in.  I  then  perceived  what  the  reel  of  cotton, 
which  was  again  lying  on  the  verandah  floor,  had 
been  wanted  for.  The  crow  had  sewn  a  straw 
armchair  with  an  open-patterned  seat  securely 
to  the  cage  by  nine  very  long  strands,  and  was 
sleepily  contemplating  the  work  with  great  satis- 
faction. It  was  quite  easy  to  see  how  it  had  been 
managed  once  a  start  was  made  with  the  cotton  ; 
but  it  must  have  entailed  a  great  deal  of  flying 
in  and  out  with  the  end  of  the  cotton,  for  it  had 
not  been  broken  off.  Of  course  I  left  the  chair 
in  its  place,  and  it  remained  untouched  for  some 
months  ;  but  I  always  had  to  use  it  myself,  lest 
any  one  should  move  it  too  roughly,  and  so  break 
the  connecting  strands  which  had  cost  my  little 
bird  so  much  labour  and  trouble. 

The  most  popular  of  my  birds,  however,  was 
certainly  the  laughing  jackass,  who  dwelt  in  com- 
pany with  the  magpie  and  the  mynah.  Unhappily 
a  misunderstanding  arose,  when  I  was  away  in 
England,  between  these  two  birds,  once  such  great 
friends.  If  I  had  only  been  there  to  adjust  the 
quarrel,  all  might  have  gone  well ;  but  the  magpie, 
after  many  days  of  incessant  battle,  I  was  told. 


HUMOURS   OF   BIRD   LIFE  291 

fell  upon  the  mynah  and  killed  it.  It  was  curious 
that  they  should  have  lived  together  for  a  couple 
of  years  without  more  than  the  ordinary  share  of 
bird-quarrels.  I  do  not  know  what  active  share 
the  jackass  took  in  this  affair.  I  always  doubted 
his  intentions  towards  that  mynah,  and  he'  always 
regarded  it  with  a  bad  expression  of  eye,  but  as  he 
was  very  slow  and  cumbrous  of  movement  I  thought 
the  mynah  could  well  take  care  of  himself.  The 
only  time  the  laughing  jackass  ever  showed  agility 
was  when  a  mouse-trap  with  a  live  mouse  in  it 
was  taken  into  his  cage.  With  every  feather 
bristling  he  would  watch  for  the  door  of  the  trap 
to  be  opened,  when  he  pounced  on  the  darting 
mouse  quicker  than  the  eye  could  follow,  and 
killed  and  swallowed  it  with  the  greatest  rapidity. 
Once  a  mouse  escaped  him,  and  the  magpie  caught 
it  instead,  and  a  more  absurd  sight  could  not  be 
imagined  than  the  magpie  flitting  from  perch  to 
perch,  holding  the  mouse  securely  in  his  beak, 
through  which  he  was  at  the  same  time  trying 
hard  to  whistle ;  whilst  the  jackass  lumbered 
heavily  after  him,  remonstrating  loudly,  for  the 
magpie  did  not  want  to  eat  the  mouse,  and  he  did. 

It  always  amused  me  to  see  the  jackass  take  his 
bath,  though  it  was  rather  a  rare  performance, 
whereas  all  the  other  birds  tubbed  incessantly.  I 
had  a  large  tin  basin  full  of  water  placed  just 
beneath  one  of  the  lowest  perches,  and  when  the 


292  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

jackass  intended  to  bathe  he  descended  cautiously 
to  this  perch  and  eyed  the  water  for  some  time, 
uttering — with  head  well  thrown  back — his  melan- 
choly laugh.  As  soon  as  his  courage  was  equal 
to  it  he  suddenly  flopped  into  the  water,  as  if  by 
accident,  and  then  scrambled  hastily  out  again. 
After  repeating  these  dips  many  times  he  seemed 
to  think  he  had  done  all  that  was  necessary  in 
the  washing  line,  and  scrambled  up  to  a  sunny 
corner  where  he  could  dry  and  preen  his  beautiful 
plumage. 

Yes,  my  birds  were  the  greatest  delight  and 
amusement  to  me  for  many  years,  and  I  had  nearly 
a  hundred  of  them  when  my  happy  life  in  that 
beautiful  tropical  home  came  to  a  sad  and  abrupt 
end.  Many  of  my  friends  have  often  asked  me 
if  I  did  not  regret  leaving  my  birds  ;  but  as  I  left 
everything  that  the  world  could  hold  for  me  in 
the  way  of  happiness  and  interest  and  work  behind 
me  at  the  same  time,  the  loss  of  the  birds  did  not 
make  itself  felt  just  then.  I  miss  them  more  now 
than  I  did  at  first,  but  I  believe  they  have  nearly 
all  found  kind  and  happy  homes,  where  they 
are  cherished  a  little  for  my  sake  as  well  as  for 
their  own,  the  dear  things  ! 


I      XIX 

GIRLS— OLD    AND   NEW 

"  COMPARISONS  are  odious "  we  know,  but  yet 
when  one  gets  past  middle  age  one  is  constantly 
invited  to  make  them. 

My  life  is  brightened  and  cheered  by  many  girl 
friends,  and  there  is  nothing  about  which  they 
show  a  more  insatiable  curiosity  than  my  own 
girlhood. 

I  think  it  is  the  going  back  so  constantly  to 
that  distant  time,  and  being  forced  by  my  imperious 
pets  to  drag  every  detail  out  of  the  pigeon-holes 
of  memory,  which  has  impressed  so  forcibly  on 
me  the  superiority  of  the  modern  girl. 

I  began  to  answer  their  questions  with  the  full 
intention  of  proving  to  the  contrary,  but  alas,  in 
the  course  of  the  talks,  I  often  felt  how  heavily 
handicapped  we  had  been.  I  am  afraid  the  first 
point  upon  which  I  had  to  dilate  was  our  clothes, 
the  description  of  which  always  provoked  peals  of 
laughter.  It  is  to  be  presumed  that  pretty  women 
set  the  fashions  and  that  they  suited  them,  but 

the  rigour  of  the  fashion  laws  prescribed  that  every 

293 


294  COLONIAL   MEMORIES 

one  should  wear  exactly  ^and  precisely  the  same 
gown  or  bonnet,  with,  of  course,  disastrous  results 
as  to  appearance.  Then  we  all  had  to  dress  our 
hair  in  precisely  the  same  way.  The  ears  especially 
were  treated  as  though  they  were  monstrous  de- 
formities, and  had  to  be  carefully  concealed.  What 
the  modern  girls  find  most  difficult  to  believe  is 
that  these  same  fashions  lasted  for  three  or  four 
years  without  the  slightest  change,  so  there  was 
no  escape  from  an  unbecoming  garment.  Of 
course  I  impressed  upon  my  laughing  audience, 
with  all  the  dignity  at  my  command,  that  we 
looked  extremely  nice,  and  at  all  events  were  quite 
contented  with  our  appearance. 

If  I  could  not  defend  the  colours  and  cut  of  the 
material  provided  for  our  bodies,  still  less  could  I 
champion  the  diet  prescribed  for  our  minds.  Look- 
ing back  on  it  all  I  see  there  was  the  same  cardinal 
error ;  the  want  of  recognition  of  any  individu- 
ality. As  in  our  frocks  so  in  our  studies,  no  allow- 
ance whatever  used  to  be  made  for  our  different 
natures.  In  fact,  the  great  aim  of  every  mother 
and  teacher  was  to  make  her  girl  exactly  and  pre- 
cisely like  every  other  girl.  No  matter  in  what 
direction  your  tastes  and  talents  lay,  you  had  to 
plod  through  the  same  list  of  what  was  called 
"  accomplishments."  The  very  word  was  a  mis- 
nomer, for  nothing  was  really  accomplished.  A 
girl's  education  was  supposed  to  be  quite  "  finished  " 


GIRLS— OLD  AND   NEW  295 

(Heaven  save  the  mark  !)  at  about  sixteen  or  seven- 
teen, but  if  she  were  studiously  inclined,  or  even 
dimly  suspected  that  she  had  not  exhausted  all 
the  treasures  of  knowledge,  she  would  have  found 
it  difficult  to  pursue  any  course  of  study.  And 
the  idleness  of  that  stage  of  girlhood  was  one  of 
its  greatest  dangers.  A  reaction  from  the  practical 
days  of  our  own  grandmothers  had  set  in,  and 
there  was  no  still-room,  or  work-room,  or  any 
branch  of  domestic  education  to  which  we  could 
turn  to  find  an  outlet  for  our  energies. 

A  girl  with  any  musical  talent  could  of  course 
go  on  practising,  and  had  a  chance  of  achieving 
something,  but  art  education  must  have  been  at 
its  lowest  ebb  half  a  century  ago.  It  is  difficult 
to  believe  that  a  "  drawing  class  "  of  that  day 
generally  consisted  of  a  dozen  girls  or  so  meeting 
at  the  house  of  some  rising  or  even  well-known 
artist.  The  great  point  seemed  to  be  his  name. 
Drawing  materials  and  every  other  facility,  except 
instruction,  used  to  be  provided  by  our  "  master." 
Perhaps  the  poor  man  recognised  the  hopelessness 
of  his  task,  but  he  certainly  let  us  severely  alone 
even  in  our  choice  of  subjects.  We  were  only 
asked  to  copy  other  drawings,  and  I  well  remember 
selecting,  as  my  first  attempt  at  painting,  a  most 
ambitious  sketch  of  a  pretty  Irish  colleen  with  a 
pitcher  on  her  head  emerging  from  a  ruined  arch- 
way. I  dashed  in  her  red  petticoat  and  blue 


296  COLONIAL  MEMORIES 

cloak  with  great  vigour,  but  took  little  pains  with 
her  uplifted  arm  or  bare  legs.  They  must  indeed 
have  been  curious  anatomical  studies,  for  I  recol- 
lect the  master  heaving  a  deep  sigh,  if  not  a  groan, 
as  I  presented  my  drawing  for  his  criticism.  But 
he  made  no  attempt  whatever  to  teach  me  how  to 
do  better,  only  took  possession  of  my  picture,  kept 
it  a  few  days  and  returned  it — what  was  called  "  cor- 
rected," though  we  never  knew  where  our  faults  lay. 

Our  "  fancy  work  "  was  truly  hideous  also,  and 
as  useless  as  it  was  ugly.  It  makes  one's  heart 
ache  to  think  of  the  terrible  waste  of  time  and 
eyesight  which  our  awful  performances  in  wool 
work  and  crotchet  entailed.  Hardly  any  girl  was 
taught  to  do  plain  sewing,  and  I  really  think  one 
of  my  keenest  pangs  of  regret  for  my  misspent 
youth  in  the  way  of  needlework  was  caused  the 
other  day,  by  my  youngest  girl  friend  telling  me 
that  at  her  school  she  was  taught  to  cut  out  and 
make  a  whole  set  of  baby  clothes,  as  well  as 
garments  for  older  children. 

Our  amusements  were  few  and  far  between,  but 
we  took  to  them  a  freshness  and  keenness  of  en- 
joyment which  I  suspect  is  often  lacking  in  the 
much  amused  damsel  of  the  present  day.  But 
then,  on  the  other  hand,  "  vapours "  had  gone 
out  of  fashion,  and  "  nerves  "  had  not  yet  been 
invented,  so  one  never  heard  of  rest  cures  being 
prescribed  for  young  matrons  ! 


GIRLS— OLD  AND  NEW  297 

I  am  thankful  to  say  that  the  day  of  tight  lacing 
and  small  appetites  was  over  before  I  became 
aware  of  the  dangers  I  had  escaped,  but  I  remem- 
ber the  pity  with  which  I  listened  to  my  poor 
young  mother's  stories  of  how  she  was  required 
to  hold  on  to  the  bedpost  while  her  maid  laced 
her  stays,  and  how  she  often  fainted  after  she  was 
dressed. 

I  am  often  asked  what  exercise  we  were  allowed 
to  take.  We  rode  a  great  deal,  though  girls  were 
hardly  ever  seen  in  the  hunting  field,  and  I  won- 
der we  survived  a  ride  on  a  country  road, 
considering  that  our  habits  almost  swept  the 
ground'.  We  had  no  out-door  game  except  croquet, 
which  was  just  coming  into  fashion,  and  was  pur- 
sued with  a  frenzy  quite  equal  to  that  evoked  by 
ping-pong  or  any  other  modern  craze.  Of  course, 
there  was  always  walking  and  dancing,  though 
over  the  latter  there'  still  hung  a  faint  trace  of  the 
stately  movements  of  the  generation  before  us. 
We  all  did  elaborate  steps  in  the  quadrille,  and 
although  the  waltz  was  firmly  established  in  the 
ball-rooms  of  my  youth,  it  was  a  slow  measure 
compared  to  the  modern  rush  across  the  room. 
The  polka  woke  us  all  up,  and  we  hailed  its  pretty 
and  picturesque  figures  with  enthusiasm. 

I  often  hear  of  the  iniquities  of  girls  of  the 
present  day,  but  I  don't  come  across  those  specimens, 
and  I  confess  that  I  honestly  believe  the  modern 


298  COLONIAL  MEMORIES 

girl,  as  I  know  her,  to  be  a  very  great  improve- 
ment on  the  early  Victorian  maiden.  To  begin 
with,  she  is  much  nicer  and  prettier  to  look  at, 
because  she  can  suit  her  dress  and  her  coiffure  to 
her  individuality.  Then  she  is  not  so  dreadfully 
shy — not  to  say  gauche,  as  we  were,  because  she  is 
not  kept  in  the  school-room  until  the  hour  before 
she  is  launched  into  society,  as  ignorant  of  its  ways 
as  if  she  had  dropped  from  the  moon.  •• 

I  distinctly  remember  being  reproached  for  my 
want  of  "knowledge  of  the  world,"  when  I  had 
not  even  the  faintest  idea  what  the  phrase  meant. 
When  I  came  to  understand  it,  it  seemed  a  rather 
unreasonable  criticism,  for  I  certainly  should  have 
been  regarded  with  horror  had  I  made  any 
attempt  to  acquire  such  knowledge  on  my  own 
account. 

Now — so  far  as  my  experience  goes — the  up-to- 
date  girl  has  pretty  and  pleasant  manners,  and  is  not 
secretly  terrified  if  a  new  acquaintance  speaks  to 
her.  She  is  more  sure  of  herself,  and  has  the 
confidence  of  custom,  for  she  has  probably  been 
her  mother's  companion  out  of  school  hours.  I 
fear  girls  are  not  quite  as  respectful  and  obedient 
to  their  elders  as  we  used  to  be,  although  the  days 
of  "  Honoured  Madam  "  and  "  Sir  "  had  passed 
away  with  the  generation  before  mine.  Still  the 
modern  mother  seems  quite  content  with  her 
pretty  girl,  and  it  is  often  difficult  to  distinguish 


GIRLS— OLD  AND   NEW  299 

between  them,  but  I  always  observe  the  daughter 
is  the  most  proud  and  delighted  if  "  Mummie " 
is  taken  for  her  elder  sister. 

Then  the  New  Girl  is  so  companionable.  Her 
education  has  been  conducted  on  very  different 
lines  to  ours,  and  she  does  not  dream  of  giving  up 
her  studies  because  she  is  no  longer  obliged  to 
pursue  them.  Her  individual  tastes  have  been 
given  a  chance  of  asserting  themselves,  and  I  am 
often  told  of  "  work  "  gone  on  with  at  home.  In 
fact  her  education  has  really  taught  her  how  to 
go  on  educating  herself.  Of  course  I  am  speaking 
of  intelligent  girls,  and  I  am  happy  to  think  they 
are  far  more  numerous  than  they  were  even  one 
generation  ago.  There  will  always  be  frivolous, 
empty-headed  girls,  but  with  even  them  I  confess 
I  find  it  very  difficult  to  be  properly  angry,  as 
they  are  generally  so  pretty  and  coaxing. 

The  delightful  classes  and  lectures  on  all  subjects 
and  in  all  languages  now  so  common  were  unknown 
in  my  day,  to  say  nothing  of  the  numerous  aids 
to  difficult  branches  of  knowledge.  Even  history 
was  offered  to  us  in  so  unattractive  a  form  that 
although  we  swallowed,  so  to  speak,  a  good  deal 
of  it,  we  digested  little  or  none.  Poetry  was 
generally  regarded  as  dangerous  mental  food,  and, 
perhaps  to  our  starved  natures,  it  may  have  been. 
Our  reading  was  most  circumscribed,  and  every- 
thing was  Bowdlerised  as  much  as  possible.  I  am 


300  COLONIAL  MEMORIES 

not  sure,  however,  that  miscellaneous  reading 
does  not  begin  too  soon  now,  and  certainly  I 
am  often  astonished  at  the  books  very,  very 
young  girls  are  allowed  to  read.  In  this  respect 
I  confess  I  think  the  old  way  safer,  to  say  the 
least  of  it. 

In  considering  the  subject  of  the  new  ways  of 
girls,  however,  one  must  bear  in  mind  how  many 
more  girls  there  now  are,  and  that  marriage  is  not 
the  invariable  destiny  of  every  pretty  or  charm- 
ing girl  one  meets.  The  consequence  is  girls  cer- 
tainly do  not  talk  and  think  of  future  or  possible 
husbands  as  much  as  they  used  to  a  couple  of 
generations  ago.  Such  talk  was  quite  natural  and 
harmless  under  the  old  conditions,  but  I  must  say 
it  seems  healthier  and  nicer  that  now  it  should 
be  the  merits  of  the  favourite  "  bike,"  or  the  last 
"  ripping "  run,  or  the  varying  fortunes  of  golf 
or  hockey,  or  even  croquet,  which  claims  their 
attention  when  they  get  together.  I  often  wonder 
how  a  man  could  have  encumbered  himself  with 
any  of  us  as  his  life's  companion  !  It  is  true  that 
he  had  not  any  option,  but  still  we  must  have  been 
rather  trying.  I  know  of  one  girl  who  amazed 
her  husband  by  appearing  before  him  the  first 
Sunday  morning  after  their  marriage,  with  her 
Prayer  Book,  which  she  handed  to  him  with  the 
utmost  gravity,  and  standing  up  with  her  hands 
clasped  behind  her  back,  in  true  school-girl  fashion, 


GIRLS— OLD  AND   NEW  301 

proceeded  to  rattle  off  the  collect,  epistle,  and 
gospel  for  the  day,  having  no  idea  she  was  doing 
anything  the  least  unusual ! 

The  only  comfort  I  have  in  looking  back  on  our 
crudeness  and  ignorance  is  that  we  were  really 
good  girls.  That  is  to  say  we  were  trained  to  be 
unselfish,  and  certainly  we  were  obedient  and 
docile,  though  in  many  ways  what  would  now  be 
called  silly.  Still,  we  were  as  pure  minded  and 
innocent  as  babes,  and  quite  as  unworldly.  No 
doubt  this  white-souled  state  sprang  from  crass 
ignorance,  but  who  shall  say  that  it  was  not  good 
to  keep  us  from  tasting  the  fruit  of  that  terrible 
Tree  of  Knowledge  as  long  as  possible  ? 

"  You  must  have  been  dears,"  is  the  verdict 
with  which  a  talk  of  these  distant  days  is  often 
ended  by  my  laughing  critics.  And  I  feel  in- 
clined to  say,  "  Well,  and  you  are  dears,  too,"  so 
I  suppose  that  is  the  real  solution  of  the  question. 


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THE  BIOGRAPHICAL  EDITION 

W.  M.  THACKERAY'S'  COMPLETE  WORKS. 

THIS  NEW  AND  REVISED  EDITION 

COMPRISES 

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LETTERS,  SKETCHES,  and  DRAWINGS 
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AND  1ACH  VOLUME  INCLUDES   A   MEMOIB,    IN   THE  FORM  OF 
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THE   SIEGE   OF  THE   PEKING  LEGATIONS.    By  the 

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THE    HAWORTH    EDITION 

OFTHB 

LIFE    AND    WORKS 

OF 

CHARLOTTE   BRONTE 

(CURRER  BELL) 

AND  HER  SISTERS 

EMILY    AND    ANNE    BRONTE 
(ELLIS  AND  ACTON  BELL) 

WITH  PORTRAITS  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

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Medallists  of  the  Royal  Photographic  Society. 

Introductions  to  the  Works  are  supplied  by  Mrs.  HUMPHRY  WARD, 

AND 

An  Introduction  and  Notes  to  Mrs.  Gaskell's  "Life  of  Charlotte 
Bronte"  by  Mr.  CLEMENT  K.  SHORTER,  the  eminent  Bronte 
authority.  

CONTENTS  OF  THE  VOLUMES: 

I.  JANE  EYRE.  By  CHARLOTTE  BRONTE.  With  a  Photogravure  Portrait  of 
Charlotte  Bronte,  from  a  Drawing  by  G.  RICHMOND,  a  Photogravure  of  Rochester 
and  Jane  Eyre,  from  a  Water-colour  Drawing  by  FREDERICK  WALKER,  A.R.A. ;  a 
Facsimile  of  the  Title-page  of  the  first  edition,  and  8  Full-page  Illustrations. 

a.  SHIRLEY.  By  CHARLOTTE  BRONTE.  With  a  Facsimile  of  the  Title-page  of 
the  first  edition,  and  10  Full-page  Illustrations. 

3.  VILLETTE.     By  CHARLOTTE   BRONTE.     With    a   Photogravure  Portrait  of 

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original  MS. ,  and  8  Full-page  Illustrations. 

4.  THE  PROFESSOR,  by  CHARLOTTE  BRONTE,  and  POEMS,  by  CHARLOTTE, 

EMILY,  and  ANNE  BRONTE,  and  the  Rev.  PATRICK  BRONTE,  &c.  With  Facsimiles 
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5.  WUTHERING   HEIGHTS.     By  EMILY  BRONTE.     AGNES  GREY.     By 

ANNE  BRONTE.  With  a  Preface  and  Biographical  Notice  of  both  Authors  by 
CHARLOTTE  BRONTE.  With  a  Portrait  of  Emily  Bronte,  Facsimiles  of  the  Title- 
pages  of  the  first  editions,  and  8  Full-page  Illustrations. 

6.  THE   TENANT    OF  WILDFELL    HALL.     By  ANNE  BRONTE.     With  a 

Portrait  of  Anne  Bronte,  a  Facsimile  of  the  Title-page  of  the  first  edition,  and  6 
Full-page  Illustrations. 

7.  LIFE  OF  CHARLOTTE  BRONT&     By  Mrs.  GASKELL.     With  an  Introduc- 

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