LIBRARY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 University of California. 
 
 Class 
 
COLONIAL MEMORIES 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2008 with funding from 
 
 Microsoft Corporation 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/colonialmemoriesOObarkrich 
 
COLONIAL 
 MEMORIES 
 
 BY 
 
 LADY BROOME 
 
 LONDON 
 
 SMITH, ELDER, at CO. 
 
 15 WATERLOO PLACE 
 1904 
 
 [All rights reserved] 
 

 Printed by Bali.antvnk, Hankon <5r* Co. 
 At the liallantvne 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. 
 
 222707 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PAGB 
 
 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 . . .110 
 
 IX. Western Australia — Continued . .127 
 
 X. The Enrolled Guard . . .144 
 
 XI. Trinidad ..... 149 
 
 XII. Trinidad — Continued . . .169 
 
 XIII. Rodrigues . . . . .184 
 vii 
 
viii CONTENTS 
 
 XIV. Colonial Servants 
 XV. Interviews . 
 XVI. A Cooking Memory 
 XVII. Bird Notes 
 XVIII. Humours of Bird Life 
 XIX. Girls — Old and New 
 
 PAGE 
 203 
 
 224 
 
 240 
 
 255 
 
 275 
 
 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 i860. 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," 
 
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 Macmillan'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. 
 
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 h 4 ad 
 
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. 
 a 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-Governor, 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 great 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- 
 
 1 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 Christchurch, 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 : — 
 
 u 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 
 
18 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 He 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 r. 
 
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 pc r 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 regular 1 / 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 
 amihilators 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 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 Commandant 1 
 told me, although the sad news spoiled in a way 
 the gaiety and klat 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., 21st 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 best. 
 
 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, 
 1 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 
 I 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 veight 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 soldie/. 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 ever 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 the 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 mules, 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 plan* 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 assured 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 ! 
 
 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 every-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 
 
 80 
 
"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 deboisement 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-Governor 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 great 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 £1 apiece for purchase 
 and carriage, but could be allowed only a month's 
 run in the beautiful park of five hundred acres 
 which surrounded R6duit. 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 I " 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 JNDICI" 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 Pegou 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 Reduit 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 defined 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 rilled 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 exposed 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 few 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 bah prives there was a difficulty in getting 
 them 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 Recluit 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 Wesley an 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 CLAVISQUE 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 
 
io 4 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 
 
106 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 
 
108 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- 
 men 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 m 
 
 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 rages sont refugies sur les lies Crozets, 
 ce " — then followed a date of about twelve days 
 before. " An secours, pour P 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 
 
ii 4 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 Croze ts. 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. 
 
 Another 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. 
 
 11 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- 
 
i2 4 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 
 
 ?a 7 
 
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 
 
 1 
 
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 cartndges, 
 
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 Freemantle, 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 be* 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 quite 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 nervousness 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 showed 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 untraceable. 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 10s. — 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. 
 
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 
 doing 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 soldiers. 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 have 1 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 far 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 bora 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, an d 
 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 firopos 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 
 fidgetting 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. Hd 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 immovable 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 the 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 aicls 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- 
 
166 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- 
 
168 COLONIAL MEMORIES 
 
 eluding a hundred humming-bird skins I 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 had 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 the' 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 sedn 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 " Iere, 
 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 off 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 — 
 
180 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 the 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 century — 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 LTle de France 
 
 being the prizes of the victor. 
 
 184 
 
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 that 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 
 
186 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 
 
188 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 seemed 
 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 condamnes, 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, abime'd 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 Euryalus 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- 
 etre 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 even 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 
 
208 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 4ay — 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 hastened to the scene. The - re 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 219 
 
 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 amazed 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, 
 
220 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. Pd 
 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 (Varmee 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 
 
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-aged 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 W T estern 
 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. 
 
2 3 o 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 glacUy 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 delar 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 dolorosa. 
 
 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 recti tudely beg to recog- 
 nise our hesitation of his Excy 8 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 Majeste 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 
 
 »4Q 
 
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 deep 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 1 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 Paper 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 Heniy 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 be' " 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 
 corner, 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 : — 
 
 " 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 charging 
 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," 
 
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- 
 
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 
 
 »75 
 
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, 
 
2 8o 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-day- 
 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 had 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 believe 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 that 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 the 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 larned 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 01^ 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 
 
290 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 ! 
 
, 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 iriuch 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. 
 
 THE END 
 
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 LIFE AND WORKS 
 
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