IMAGE EVALUATION
TEST TARGET (MT-3)

•^ ^d/..

lil.O

I.I

"^m

IL25 11 1.4

1^1^ 12.5

\ik 1^ |2.2

^ ii

1.6

>> .^^^

Photographic

Sciences
Corporation

23 WEST MAIN STREET

WEBSTER, NY. 14530

(716) 872-4503

CIHM/ICMH

Microfiche

Series.

CIHM/ICMH
Collection de
microfiches.

Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions / Institut canadion de microreproductions historiques

Technical and Bibliographic Notes/Note* techniques et bibliographiques

The Institute has attempted to obtain the best
original copy available for filming. Features of this
copy which may be bibliographically unique,
which may alter any of the images in the
reproduction, or which may significantly change
the usual method of filming, are checked below.

□

Coloured covers/
Couverture de couleur

I I Covers damaged/

Couverture endommagie

Covers restored and/or laminated/
Couverture restaurie et/ou pellicul6e

Cover title missing/

Le titre de couverture manque

Coloured maps/

Cartes giographiques en couleur

□ Coloured ink (i.e. other than blue or black)/
Encre de couleur (i.e. autre que bleue ou noire)

I I Coloured plates and/or illustrations/

Planches et/ou illustrations en couleur

Bound with other material/
Rellii avec d'autres documents

Tight binding may cause shadows or distortion
along interior margin/

La reliure serr^e psut causer de I'ombre ou de la
distortion le long de la marge int^rieure

Blank leaves added during restoration may
appear within the text. Whenever possible, these
have been omitted from filming/
II se peut que certaines pages blanches ajout6es
lors d'une restauration apparaissent dans ie texte.
mais. lorsque cela 6tait possible, ces pages n'ont
pas 6t6 film6es.

Additional comments:/
Commentaires suppl6mentaires;

Tl
tc

L'Institut a microfilm* le -neilleur exemplaire
qu'il lui a 6t6 possible de &s procurer. Les details
de cet exemplaire qui sont peut-Atre uniques du
point de vue bibliographique. qui peuvent modifier
une image reproduite. ou qui peuvent exiger une
modification dans la methods normale de filmage
sont indiquto ci-dessous.

pn Coloured pages/

This item is filmed at the reduction ratio checked below/

Ce document est film* au taux de reduction indiqui ci-dessous.

Pages de couleur

Pages damaged/
Pages endommagAes

Pages restored and/or laminated/
Page& restauries et/ou pelliculAes

Pages discoloured, stained or foxed/
Pages dicolortes, tachetAes ou piquies

Pages detached/
Pages ditachies

P
o
fi

b
tl
si
o
fi
si
o

^1 Showthrough/
' Transparence

I I Quality of print varies/

Quality inAgale de I'impression

Includes supplementary material/
Comprend du materiel suppKmentaire

Only edition available/
Seule Edition disponible

Pages wholly or partially obscured by errata
slips, tissues, etc.. have been refiimed to
ensure the best possible image/
Les pages totalement ou partieUement
obscurcies par un feuiilet d'errata. une pelure,
etc., ont 6t^ filmies A nouveau de fa9on A
obtenir la meilleure image possible.

10X

14X

18X

22X

26X

12X

16X

20X

24X

28X

32X

T
si

N
di

ei
bi
ri
r«
nr

tail*
du

)difier
une
nage

The copy filmed here has been reproduced thanks
to the generosity of:

Dana Porter Arts Library
University of Waterloo

The images appearing here are the best quality
possible considering the condition and legibility
of the original copy and in keeping with the
filming contract specifications.

Original copies in printed paper covers are filmed
beginning with the front cover and ending o\y
the last page with a printed or illustrated impres
sion, or the back cover when appropriate. All
other original copies are filmed beginning on the
first page with a printed or illustrated impres-
sion, and ending on the last page with a printed
or illustrated impression.

L'exemplaire filmi fut reproJuit grAce A la
ginArositA de:

Dana Porter Arts Library
University of Waterloo

Les images suivantes ont 6tA reproduites avec le
pitis grand soin. compte tenu de la condition et
do la nettetd de rexemplaire film6, et en
conformity avec les conditions du contrat de
filmage.

Les exemplaires originaux dont la couverture en
papier est imprimis sont fiimis en commengant
par le premier plat et en terminant soit par la
derniire page qui comporte une empreinte
d'impression ou d'illustration, soit par le second
plat, selon le cas. Tous les autres exemplaires
originaux sont film6s en commenpant par la
premiere page qui comporte une empreinte
d'impression ou d'illustration et en terminant par
la derniire page qui comporte une telle
empreinte.

Tata
o

>elure.

32X

The last recorded frame on each microfiche
shall contain the symbol •^^ (meaning "CON-
TINUED "), or the symbol y (meaning "END"},
whichever applies.

Maps, plates, charts, etc., may be filmed at
different reduction ratios. Those too large to be
entirely included in one exposure are filmed
beginning in the upper left hand corner, left to
right and top to bottom, as many frames as
required. The following diagrams illustrate the
method:

Un des symboles suivants apparaitra sur la
dernidre image de cheque microfiche, selon le
cas: le symbols — ► signifie "A SUIVRE", le
symbols V signifie "FIN".

Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc.. peuvent dtre
filmis d des taux de reduction diffirents.
Lorsque le document est trop grand pour 6tre
reproduit en un seul cliche, il est film6 d partir
de i'angle supirieur gauche, de gauche d droite,
et de haut en bas, en prenant \a nombre
d'images ndcessaire. Les diagrammes suivants
illustre^it la methods.

THIIOIXJH
THE jmiTISH KMI'JIJK

VOL. I.

I'lUNTII) nv

SrOTTI.MVrH.DK AXD Co., NKW-.^lKKKl .>S!L-Alii;

LONUoX

THEOUGH

THE

BKITISH EMPIEE

BARON VON IIUBNER

KnIlMKin.v KI'SKIIAN \M1IA>S ' I)'>|{ IN I'AKIS ANH K"M1-

IN TWO VOLUMES
VOL. I.

WITH A MAP

LONDON
JOHN MUKRAY, ALBEMARLE

STREET

A II / J (,' A /.< I I ."■ r I ft

80381

PROPERTY OF TUF I IfiRARY
UNIVERSITY Of WAffcRLOO

(!ONTEATS

Til K VI KST VOLCMH

INTlKJDUCTOllV .

I'AKT 1.
sorrii A Fit I (A.

CllAPTKl! r.

I'lIK VOVAdK.

,luNK 2S> TO July 20.

The ]iiiss{'iij^ers— Miuk'irii - ToMerifle — Capo Vcrdtj — Tiic I )eail
points ..........

(JH APT Hit J I.

CATE TOWN.

.Ifi.Y 20 TO Jtly ;51.-- AidisT 'li) to Si;ptk.mhi;|{ 1.">.

Ai)peariuice of the tt)\vii- Sociiil life and politics — \V\ nhii'^r —
("diK'^tiuitiii -- Bishop's Court- Simon's I5ay — Sisters ot
Charity — The Public Lihrarv — The ()bser\atory — Laiij,'alc-
iialele — The Drakcnstciii — Piiarl - Fraiish-Hock - Stellcii-
hoscli .........

co\ti:nt.s of

C'lIAI'TKK Iir.

'••■\STI;kn- I'KOVINCKS - KAFFRAUIA.
'Tl'ly .'U to Ai;(;nsT l,",.

^Tuu. ana Kullirs. -The const of I'on.lol ',' "'" ..

CHAPTER TV.

NATAL.

August l.j to Au(}lst 2(J.

'^•n-i.an~CuUivationoftlK.sn.ar.cano-ThoIal,ourors - A..„

PAKT II.

y^'lV /KALANI,.

CHAPTER r.

THE PASSAGE.

I-'HOM Calk Town to MKLnounxE, Skptembku 1.

TO OC'TOBKK 5.

I<UOM ^lKX.n0URNK TO THK Bl.-KKS (Xkw ZkaI.vNI>,

OCTOIJEU 10 TO lo.

I>t'lif,'lit.s and (Irawhacks of

tiulls- Passen-ors - Distanoos

01 a voyage in the Southern Seas-

Tin: FIRST VOLUME

Vll

I'AIIK

. l(i'.l

CHAPTER II.

SOUTH ISr,AND.
OcTOliKU 15 TO OCTOIIKR '21, IHR.I.

Invprcarpill T.iiko Wakatiim— Duneilin Cliristolmrch — .
stiition in tlie interior .......

CHAPTER III.

NOUTH ISLAND.
OCTOHKK 25 TO NoVKMHKi; 12, IHHf}.

Wollinr;ton — Picton Nelson Now I'lyniouth — Kawliia -
Aucklaiul— The Hot Lakes -Political Surveys . . . I«»;{

PART III.

CHAPTER I.

PASSAGE FROM COLOMBO TO ALBANY, GLKNELG, AND

MKLIiOUKNE.

April 9 to 27, 1884.

Eruptions of submarine volcanoes -The Coco Islancls Albany
—A cyclone— Glenelg- Arrival at Melbourne , . . 24'.)

CHAPTER II.

VICTORIA.

From Octorer r-> to 15, 1883.
From April 27 to May 5, 1884.
Historical notice-Eflfects of the discovery of the ^ohl mines -
Ai)i)earance of Melbourne-The intercolonial railway. . 257

VIU

CONTKNTS 01

CIIAPTKK III.

Ni:W KOirH WALKS.

FitoM N'ovKMni'.u 17 TO Novkmhki! '2'.K 1hh;{.
Tkom May (» to May '20, IHHI.

I ■ W i K

Ilistorioal notioo Appciiniiicc of Sydney iJoliiiiy \'»\y 'I'ln'
I'nivcrsil^' Excursidiis to dric liliio MdUiituiiis iiiid on tlif
Hawkesbury Kivor Tlio uni3ln[)loy('(l uicii . . . . "Jmi

CIIAPTKH IV.

QI'KENSLANn.

I'uoM NovKMUKK *27 TO Dkckmhkk i;?, IMH;}.

Iliisliano- Parliiif,' Downs Jlookhampton — Town.svillo
Tliursilav Island — I'olitical aarvev ....

:iiil

TAUT IV.
I y 1)1 A.

CUAPTEll I.

.TAVA, SINGArOlU:, CKYLON.

DECKMnKU 14, 188;}, TO .Tanuauy Id, 1884.

In the Dutch seas P>atavia--Mussuhnan fanaticism — liuiten-
zor^' — Monopoly and forced labour - l{of,'(Mits and Uesidcnls
— Tjandjur liandong The volcano Tankulian-rrahu
Visit to the Rej^ent — New Year's eve — From liatavia to
Sin<,'apore — The Chinese element — Voyage to Colombo —
Kandy — Excursion amonp: the mountains — The Cinf,Mlese- -
Kaliirs in the island of Ceylon— Departiu'c for Madras . :).').")

THK FIRST vol. r NIK

CIIAITKn II.

I'UIK

. ;;iij

MADHAS.

From Januaky ir, to Fkhhua

ItY 7,

Arrival at Ma(lruH--ViKit t,, (Juiii.ly I'mk St. Tlicnms'H
Mniijit 'i'lio Mvsoro State Tij,'(>r.s at iv railway station
TIkj Maiiarajah of Mysori' Kcvicw at naii','al,.iv_Tho
Indian army The Maliarajahs l.all iJritish n'sid.ius--
M^T. C(.a(li)ii .\Ksault of arms at tlit- cami. Ttniplfs of
Coiijcvcram Arrival of the Viceroy at Madras .Juurncv
to llydi^n-l.ad lioluram The Niziim's State Sir Salar
•Tun^' The feudatory princes Tlie Ni/am's army Tlie
Viceroy's durbar Tlio Nizam's duri.ar - Fetes at liyder
al.ad A villa of Salar ,Jum^' A mornin;:,' walk -City of
Hyderabad ...

V\i,'.

n\iH

ITINERARIES AND DISTANCES.

St. steamer, r. railway, r. carriai?e.

Volume I.

St.

.v^

r.
c,

('.
r.
xt.
r.
c.
r.
.It.

St.
St.

r.
r.
r, uikI
/'.

St.
.St.
St.
St.
St.
St.

St.

From Southampton to Cape 'I'own .

„ Cape Town to Port Klizabcth .

„ Port P:iizab(!th to Grahuni'.s Town

„ Graham's Town to King William's

Town

Excursion to Peri Bu.sh . . . .
From Kinp: William's Town to East London

„ East London to Durban .

„ Durban to Pietormaritzhurg .
E.xcursion to .Swartkoj) Valley .
From J'iotermaritzburg to Durban .

„ Durban to Cape Town .

„ Cape Town to Melbourne

„ Melbourne to Mluffs (Nt'w Zealand)

„ Bluffs to Invercar<jrill and Kingstown

„ Kingstown to Queenstown "(Lake
Wakatipu)and Kinloch

„ Kinloch to Kingstown

„ Kingstown to Dunedin .

„ Dunedin to Chri.stchurch
Exeursum into the interior
From Christ church to Lyttehon '

„ Lyttelton to Wellington .

„ Wellington to Picton

„ I'icton t(i Nelson

„ Nelson to New Plyinnuth

„ New Plymouth toKawhia Harbour

„ Kawhia Harbour to Manukau .

„ Maiuikau to Auckland

„ Auckland to Tauranga .

Ca-riod forward

O.W be

! |£*^

6,014
•117

~ ^ it i'agi

804
1,200

los

7(1
L'(»
70

lOG

171

2;jo

114

178
54
81

i4i;
fi.; -^

80 -

' - I (

14.V -

15,477, 1,0:.';

5.-)

r.2
r.7

m;
lo't
ii:;

11!)
11!»
I."

in 7

109
172

17;'
I7n

170
187

]HH
I! I.".

I'.m;

1!»7
lll't
Jol
2<)f>
•JOt)

21 'J

Xll

FTINKRARIKS AND DI STANCES

.If

I 111'! home-
hack

St.

Kt.
.'II xl

r.
and

lit.

■AW\

St.

r. c

and
horsi'hach

Ht.

at.
r.
^t.
at.
r.

r.
r.

.^•^ ;ind c.

.1^

3 ••-' Ci

s^*5 Jf

« c fc

.a- ti

frsj

.« «" s.

8=5

?f« '

C "

' Page '

liioiiu'lit forward .
From Tanranf;ii to Oliiiicmulu, the (icy-
scrs, Wairoa, Liikc Koto Maliaiiii,
Camhridiro, and llaiiiilton
„ Hamilton to Auckland
Exciu'sion to Kawau Island
From Auckland to Sydney
J^xcursion to Kiclnnond . , . .

Kxcursioii to tiic liluo Mountains
Kx('nrsif)n tf) Hawkt'sbury Kivcr
From Sydney to lirisbanc.
To Darlinjj: i)o\vns, Wc'stbrook, Harlcxton
and back ......

( From Brisbane to Batavia .'?,(tS(; ,

I E.xcur.sions .... US <

From JJatavia to JJuitcnzorg, Tiandur,
IJamlon.Lr, volcano of Tankuban I'raliu
and back ......

From Batavia to Sin<rapore

„ Singai)or(! to Colombo (Ceylon)
To Kandy and the interior
From Colombo to Poiidicliorry
,, Pondiclierry to Madras .
„ Guindy I'ark (]\Iadras)to Bangalore
( Mysore). Excursion to the camp
and back to Guindy Bark
Excursion to Conjeverara ....

From Madras to Hyderabad
Between Bolarum and Hyderabad

Volume II.

From Hj'derabad to Poonali

., Boonah to Bombay .
( ,, Bombay to Goa
- Excursion to Goa Vellia .
I Return to Bombay .

From Bombay to Alimedabad .

15,477 1,027

230)

i<;

230 )

1,334

iOO

]7'J 217

.S7 23(1

52 21

230 I

7(i 2!»2 :

]!t2 2!t4 j

117 2!H;|

— 1 .'{((4 i

! I
27.'. 307 :

3,774 — 315

325

•MY.]

:).-)0

— ^ ;{so

,570

— . :!88

—

221

3!t0

5(52

—

3it8

—

398

470

405

—

115

4 lit

—

522

432

12; 435

515

—

Hit

(22

476

—

2(1
(31

—

310

Carried forward

24,323 4,(;4;!

ITrXF.RARIES AND DISTANCES

Xlll

iPagc

LM7
L'.'iO
'J\{)

2!>} i
2!h; ;
[ .'{()■!

' I

307 :

1
r.

(22

r ami r.

JXtf Illiquid

Imrnrhiirh
ih'jthant

.'. ;iiii] horse-

I nick

and (hindtj
.If.

■It.

?'.

]03;

(14
171
101.

! Hriin^riit forward .

iM-om Aliiuodabad to Ahoo-rd. Station l]r>]
„ Aboo-road Station to Mount
i Aboo and back

.. Aboo-road Station to Jodbporc

Junrtioii
.. .lodlipon- Junction to Tali

J'ali to Jodliporc
„ -'"dbpon! to, Jodbporc. Timet ion
., -''Jdbporc! Junction to, Jovporc.
' „ Jcyporc to Ddlii

Dolbi to Tesliawur .

[ Kxcnrsion to tlie Kliybcr Pass .
I J From IVsbawnr to Lalioro. Amritsar,
' A<,Ta, AUababad. I'.onarcs, Calcutta
prom Calcutta to Darjcolinj; . nCA)

j Excursion to Sikkini . . . 22 [

,( Return to Calcutta . . ' SGij

I From Calcutta to Colombo (Ceylon)' '
:| „ ColomlH) to Albany (Kin'^'aeoref'V\
I J Sound), . . ;?,':{71»

j I „ Albany to Glonclg (Adelaide) l,'s]8
I „ Oleiielif to Melbourne
„ Melbourne to Sydney
„ Sydney to San Francisco, viz. :
r ,. Sydney to Newcastl(!
j „ Newcastle to Norfolk Island '.
I „ Norfolk Island to Suva (Fijis) .
j Excursion to Uau, tbere and back ,

From Suva to Levuka
I „ Levuka to Man^^o Island '.

I „ Man>ro to Lonia-Eoma
I „ Lonia-Loinato Nina-Tobutava
■tf. and sai/ !n' (Keppel Island) .

j „ >iiiii-'l"ol)utava to Apia, Upf)lu
, I (Samoa)

, Apiat(j i'ango-Pango(Tutuila
Island)

r: 52

o2 !

— 1,600

55 T
000
001>

60 j
115

36 I

285 1

)80

Carried forward . . , 38,554 f
See vol. i. p. 219, ami 'ol. „, ,,. ^ic.

318

I .

XIV

ITINERARIES AND DISTANCES

Brouirlit forward .
From Pango-Pango to West Cape

(Tutuila) .... 18
(2,757 in F[.M.S. ' Espiegle ')
„ Tutuila to Honolulu 2,280

„ Honolulu to San Fnincisco 2,100j
„ San Francisco to Portland
„ I'ortland to St. Paul (North I'acific

Kivor)

„ St. Paul to C'liicafro .

„ Chicago to Niagara, Falls by Detroit

„ Niagara Falls to Lcwston, Toronto

Kingston and Prescott to Mont

real

„ Montreal to Quebec
,, Quebec to 15oston .
„ Uoston to New York
„ New York to Newport and back
„ New Yf)rk to Quci'nstown (Cuuard
Southern track) .

Total ,
13,084 English miles .

<u = —

,38,551

680

114

300
2,9G0

C * a>

2'°

8,976

Page

1,911
410
512

353
172
420
230

424

43.-.
440
45t!

465 '

466 '

4(;(;

466
467
4t;!i
47(1

471 j

482

,12,608 12,984
11,351

Total geographical miles, 60 to the degree 53,959

424

r.\:>

440

—

45ti

[)11

40.-)

410

4«;(;

512

4(;(>

?53

nu\

172

4r.7

J20

4tl!l

230

470

471

482

)84

THROUGH THE BRITISH EMPIRE.

INTRODUCTORY.

Barherini Palace, Rome, April 25, 1883.

Since my childhood I have dreamed of India.
More than once, wlien I was on the point of
starting, unforeseen obstacles thwarted my plans.
In my 'Promenade ail tour du Monde,' publisJied ten
years ago,i I stated my intention of visiting this land
of wonders. It was an engagement made with
myself, it is true, but before witnesses. My fulfil-
ling it or not was a matter very likely of indif-
ference to the readers of that book, but the thought
of proving faithless to my self-made promise has
often haunted me, and during my periodical visits
to Rome I felt a kind of remorse whenever I
passed by a certain bookshelf in my library con-
taining some neatly bound volumes — my 'Pro-
menade,' with the translations with which it has
been honoured. Sweet satisfaction of an author's

' Translated into English under the title of • A Kamble round
the World.'

VOL. I.

INTRODUCTION

vanity, but not without a mixture of secret un-
easiness. To put an end to this, I banislied these
books to 2 corner of tlie room wliere they miglit
no longer intrude upon my sight. Tliis morning
cliance led me thither, and on seeing them again,
tlie same unpleasant feelings recurred. I made up
mv mind then and there to set ofl* at once for
India.

Every prudent traveller, before beginning his
travels, takes care to overhaul his trunks and, if
he thinks of facing the tropics, himself. The
trunks are sound enough ; as for my state of
health, yEsculapius has seen and examined it, and
^Esculapius iinds that, under given conditions,
length of days admits of long journeys.

We are off, then, for India. But not by the
hackneyed route of the Suez Canal. Let us return,
rather, to the old ways, and double the Cape, or,
better still, stay there awhile. We will add to our
programme Australia and Canada, and we shall
then have well-nigh completed our journey through
the British Empire.

V{e?uia, May 30. — How pleasant to find oneself
in one's own nest, especially on the eve of quitting
it ! IIow delightful is che company of family and
friends ! But my plan of travel meets witii an icy

INTRODUCTION

;rct im-
(1 these
y miglit
iiorning
I again,
lade up
lice for

ing liis
and, if

■ The

tate of
it, and

ditions,

l)y tlie
return,
ipe, or,
to our
3 shall
lirough

oneself
uitting
ly and
an icy

welcome among them. Tlie ladies, above all, ex-
liort and rebuke me, and tell me tliat at my age it
is mere folly. And they really think so, to judge
by the looks tliey furtively interchange. When I
mention India and Australia to my son, he remains
respectfully silent. The silence of peoples is tlie
lesson of kings. Only this lesson is not always
taken to heart.

Travellers Club, Loudon, June 27. — My prepara-
tions are ended. Lord Derby and Lord Kimberlcy
o])en to me the official doors of the Colonies and of
Lulia ; the Admiralty introduces me to all the com-
manders at their naval stations ; Lord Granville
provides me with ])recious letters for his friends.
Sir Bartle Frere has given me a whole packet of
them, adding some excellent advice and useful
information for South Africa, as Sir Henry Eaw-
linson does for India. The agents of the Aus-
tralasian Colonies and Captain Mills, the Agent-
General of Cape Colony, assure a kind welcome
for me in those distant lands. My friends envy
me this ' trip.' They would hke to be with me,
and everyone congi-atulates me on m\ enerfn-. If
anything could shake it, it would be these com-
])liments which furnish food for reflection. At the
Travellers' I hear they say of me, 'What a plucky

B 2

INTRODUCTION

old follow lie is ! ' If any harm ])efalls me, they
will say, * What an old fool he was ! '

Southampton^ June 28. — This morninjx, at nine
o'clock — in other words, at an hour when in Pall
Mall the sun is not yet up — the traveller enters his
cab, and his old valet de chanibre mounts upon the
box. The weather is what it sometimes is in Lon-
don in the heart of summer — a fme rain, icy squalls,
a <rrey sky, with patches of mist floating about in
the damp and cold air. The whole aspect is fune-
real. Pall Mall is still a desert. At the corner
of the AtheuLuum stands a crossing-sweeper ; before
the steps of the Travellers' two policemen are busy
seizing a poor drunken creature who is shouting and
gesticulating ; while the housemaids, duster in hand,
stand at the hastily opened windows and enjoy
the spectacle. But the sight of my poor Checco
produces a diversion. This prudent man, anticipat-
ing the heat of the tropics, has taken care already,
as a measure of precaution, to don his pith
helmet, with a huge silk puggaree carefully ar-
ranged over the nape of his neck to protect him
from sunstroke. This want of geographical a
propos is noticed immediately by the servants, who
laugh open-mouthed ; by the crossing-sweeper, who
drops his broom with astonishment ; by the police-

lie, tliey

at nine
in Pall
iters his
pon the
in Lon-
squalls,
■bout in
is fune-
corner
; before
re busy
ing and
n hand,
I enjoy
Checco
ticipat-
Iready,
is pith
Uy ar-
!ct him
iical a
ts, who
r, who
police-

INTRODUCTION e

men, who, without losing hold of their j)roy,
eye us with scrutiny and suspicion. In the Strand,'
where all has been astir for several liours, the'
passers-by, busy as they are, stop to look, 'sonje
laughing, others staring at us in blank amazement
and then hurry on to m.ke up for lost time. At
the station the sensation is complete, and I hasten
to have the head-gear stowed away in its box.

At noon the express pulls up at Southampton
pier. The steamer lies at anchor close by. Five
minutes after leaving the railway carriage I am
comfortably installed in my cabin. At one o'clock
precisely, true to the appointed hour, the steamer
moves off for the Southern Hemisphere.

^Hm

PART I.

SOUTH AFRICA.

CHAPTER I.

THE VOYAGE.
June 29 to July 20.

The passengers— Madeira— Teneriffe— Cape Verde—
The Dead pomts.

Plymouth, June 29. — Our steamer has anchored
at the entrance of the harbour to take in the mails.
The weatlier is splendid. Not a breath of air.
Sunliglit and the Sabbath rest sleep upon the
town and its venerable spires, upon the hillsides
shaded with immemorial trees, upon the sheet of
water, azure-blue, like the sky which it reflects.
Save the sound of bells, mellowed by the distance,
a silence deep and undisturbed reigns above,
around, and below.

It is, indeed, Old England. And yet we seem
to be already in Africa. Nearly all the passengers
have their homes there, and are hastening to re-
turn to them ; others are equally anxious to get
there to make their fortunes. I hear nothinj?

SOUTH AFRICA

[part I.

talked of but dianioiuls, ffokl, sliccp, or ostriches.
Look at those two vounff oflicers who arc sinokiiij'
their cipirettes on tlie j^'an^'way : only yesterday
they were in the bosom of their families, and
already, in thought, the one has rejoined his ship
at kSimon's iky and the other his regiment at
rietermaritzburg. Xot a word, not a thought of
regret for ' home,' for the England which they are
about to quit for years, perhaps for ever. This is
just the way with man, when he is young and
active ; he lives in the future more than in the
present, and not at all in the past. It is only old
men who look behind them.

We have on board a gentleman who is travel-
ling for his health. He is an amusing fellow. He
tells me the story of his life. Mr. B. became en-
gaged, when quite young, to a charming young
girl who had only one fault — that of being poor.
Consequently the young man's father opposed the
match, and stopped his son's allowance. The
latter, to supply the requisite means and hasten
the marriage-day, joined a company of actors
then much in fashion in London. He became
a 'general utility' man; that is to say, he repre-
sented inferior parts. Once he was even Cardinal
Eichelieu. That evening he had only to walk

CHAP. I.]

THE VOYAGE

across the stajxe and scat liimsclf under a canopy,
iiiit it was a complete success, the grand and
also the final triumph of his short theatrical
career. A letter from his fuiiict'e put an end tt)
it. She announced to him lier marria}_'e with
another, and Mr. Ji., broken-hearted, made haste to
follow her example. He was now fairly launched
(►n married life. Jhit fate reserved him for more
stirring adventures. As an oflicer he has f(»u«rht
in all parts of the world. He has sailed on every
sea, and been shipwrecked on every coast. He
has hunted all kinds of savage animals. Twice he
has been buried alive. He sings, he plays the piano,
he twangs the guitar, and he excels on the fiddle.
His instrument never leaves him, and has gained
him, on board our vessel, the nickname of ' The
man with the fiddle.' Nobody rides the bicycle
as he does. He tells stories wonderfully well and
writes novels. At this moment he is be<rinninj;r
one called ' The Secret of Castle Arrogant.' To-
day he has just finished the first chapter, a little
masterpiece of art. What puzzles and absorbs
him, and poisons his days, is his failure, as yet,
to discover the ' secret ' of his Castle, but he
hopes to get to the bottom of it by trying
hard. Among his fellow-passengers Mr. B. is
highly popular, and deserves to be so. Above all,
he has become the prime favourite of the ladies.

' f

t ';

1 f

I' I

SOUTH AFRICA

[part 1.

When of an evening, with his nose somewhat in
air, a hght sarcastic smile upon his hps, and his
fiddle under his arm, he steps into the music-room,
wrinkles leave the brow, and the tedium of the
voyage is forgotten. He feels himself to be, and
is, the master of the situation.

The Bay of Biscay is behind us ; we begin to
enjoy the climate of these semi-tropical latitudes.
The sea is calm, the atmosphere warm, but not
yet hot.

A few hours are passed at Madeira. This island
would be charming if it had not the appearance
of being what it is, a huge infirmary ; and it takes
this character more and more.^ The little town of
Funchal, its indigenous inhabitants, the houses,
the streets which run uphill and downhill like
those at Lisbon, the villas and gardens — and some
of these are delightful — everything bears the
stamp of Portugal, with a strong coat of British
varnish. A few strangers, men and women, with
hectic cheeks and glittering eyes, too ill to be
able to escape the summer heats, are taking exer-
cise on horseback or in palanquins {rete), or little

' Before 1879 the number of invalids who wintered at Madeira
was about 120 ; last winter there were 400.

[part 1.

CHAP. I.]

THE VOYAGE

vhat in
and his
c-rooni,
of the
be, and

egin to
titiides.
)ut not

s island
}arance
it takes
;own of
houses,
ill Hke
1 some
LI'S tlie
Britisli
1, with
to be
y exer-
)r little

Madeira

sleighs (carro). The rete has retained the un-
couth shape of the seventeenth century; the carro,
drawn by oxen, ^^Hdes lightly over the big polished
flagstones of the pavement. Other invalids, too
feeble to go out, remain on their balconies.
Stretched on cane couches, they look Avith lan-
guid eyes upon the half-deserted streets, and the
houses and windows mostly closed during this dead
season. The sickly appearance of the strangers
contrasts painfully with tlie vigorous air and
vivacity of the natives, the exuberance of the
vegetation, and the bold outhne of the rock called
Madeira.

This morning, at nine o'clock, a grey speck,
scarcely perceptible, appears above the liorizon.
At noon this grey speck has become a huge blue
mountain. Towards eveninfj, when we are coastin<^
along its base, it is a chaotic mass of rocks piled
one above another, torn with fissures and cavities,
and bathed in tints of rose and purple. In a word,
the Peak of Tenerifi'e was in view at nine o'clock in
the morning : we reached its base at six o'clock in
the evening, and during all this time we were
going twelve and a half miles an hour. This giant,
thanks to the exceptional transparency of tlie
atmosphere, was visible therefore at the enormous

• (

SOUTH AFRICA

[part I.

distance of a hundred and twelve nautical miles,
reckoning GO to the degree.

Among the passengers, a lady of a certain age
attracts my notice. I must surely have met her
somewhere. Yes ; I liave seen her in the galleries
at Amsterdam, painted by Rembrandt or Franz
Hals, or some otlier great master of that school.
The cast of her mind corresponds with the energy
of her features and the muscular appearance of
her figure. She is the dau^rhter of one Dutch
Boer and the wife of another. I spend hours in
listening to her, as she talks of her childhood, of
her youth passed in the lonely plains of the Trans-
vaal and the Orange Free State, of the still mys-
terious banks of the Limpopo, of the patriarchal
and nomadic life of the Boers, of their love of in-
dependence and solitude, of the miseries they en-
dure, of the perils they confront, of the savage
tribes, of the drought, of the tsetse or cattle-fly,
that enemy of the mainstay of their lives, the ox
who feeds them, who draws their wagon — at once
their vehicle and their liouse, where they are born,
where they live, and where they die.

CHAP. I.]

TFI£ VOYAGE

One day the man with the fiddle, absorbed in
meditation, was pacing the deck alone. He was
liunting for his secret. But in the evenincr in
the music-room, lie had recovered all liis serenitv
of mind. He had never been more brilhant.
Fond of jabbering French, and ever galant, he is
lavisli of the feminine gender. He is asked ' What
IS sea-sickness ? ' He answers, ' La mal de mer est
la remords i{\me estomac mechante: This defini
tion is a grand success. Two young ladies, fresh
from school at Brighton, admire his ease hi
managing the French idiom.

We are in full view of Cape Verde. I can see
the lighthouse, and soon after the sandhills which
rise behind the town of Dakar. The little is^e of
Goree is also visible. I paid a visit to this accursed
shore last year on my way to Brazil. On our return
we found the yellow fever at Goree. Dakar was still
free, and the good Captain Grou of the ' Concro '
(Messageries Maritimes) had not the heart^to
refuse to take on board a sergeant and four sol-
diers who were fever-stricken. The doctor on
board said to me : ' One or two of these poor fel-
lows, if not all of them, will die when thev enter
the Gironde.' The Gironde is the ' dead-point ' of
the fever-patients of Senegal, the Canaries that of

'f^

SOUTH AFRICA

[part 1.

invalids sent home from Brazil and the Rio de la
Plata. Of the patients who come from China or
India, a certain number succumb at the entrance
of the Red Sea ; but those who survive their pas-
sage throujxh these remons are usuallv cured.
The Canaries, the Gironde, and Aden are the three
' dead-points.' Why this should be so he could
not tell me, but long experience, he assured me,
had established the fact. Happily our young
soldiers, and even the sergeant, the worst of the
number, seemed to be getting better.

We had passed the night close by the quarantine
station situated at the mouth of the Gironde. Xext
morning the passengers were put on board a small
steamer which was to take them on to Bordeaux.
It was during this short passage, in sight of tlie
very quays and city, and at the moment of setting
foot on land, that the poor sergeant died. He had
reached the ' dead-point ' !

Sunday brings, in regular course, boredom and
ill-humour in the smoking-room. No cards, no
whist, no bezique. Even cigars and pipes are not
considered quite orthodox. Young M. is cauglit
with a novel in liis hand by a lady who is j^articu-
larly strict in the matter of Sunday rest. Slie
looks at him fixedly, utters the word * Sunday/

CHAP. 1.]

THE VOYAGE

takes away the novel and slips into his hand a
liymn-book instead.

For ten days we have seen neither land nor
sail, nor living creature, except a large whale.
Nothing is so lonely as this part of the Atlantic.
While coasting along Africa the heat had been
overwhelming. The air was now cooler, and our
long voyage was approaching its end. We all
breathed again, and Ave were all in good spirits.
Suddenly, without any warning or apparent caused
our vessel encounters a furious sea. It is what
Enghsh sailors call tlie 'south-westerly ground-
swell,' a heavy swell caused by an under-'current
winch, startin.or from Cape Horn, ends by dashinrr
agamst the base of the Cape of Good Hope.

On the 19th of July, at sunset, we cau^dit
sight of Africa. At midnight exactly, in splendid
moonlight, the steamer anchored in the roadstead
before Cape Town. Our youtliful passengers utter
slirieks of delight, and some young ladies, throwincr
off their habitual reserve, are ready enouirJi to
johi in witli their melodious voices. For serious-
minded men m ' ' '

?leep is to be

rot. But what

T^n

SOUTH AFRICA

[part r.

does it matter ? I have reached my first halting-
place.

On the morning of the 20th the passengers
quickly exchange their good-byes. They seem
delighted to part. In the midst of this hurly-burly,
' The man with the fiddle ' alone prescx -^es his
dignity and his habitual aplomb. He has, how-
ever, a radiant air about him. Threading his way
through a chaos of boxes and luggage, he comes
up to me, grasps both my hands, looks at me with
an air of triumph, and tells me confidingly that he
has discovered the secret of his novel.

CHAPTER 11.

CAPE TOWN.
July 20 to July 31.-August 26 to September 15.

Appearance of the town-Social life and politics-Wynber^-Con-
stantia-Bishop's Court-Simon-s Bay-Sisters of Charitv-
The Public Library-The Observatory-Langalebalele-The
Drakenstein-Paarl-Fransh-Hoek-Stellenbosch.

Sln'ce the time, now upwards of two hundred and
thirty years ago, when tlie Dutch East India Com-
pany took possession of a little strip of land at the
southern extremity of Africa ; since the days of
the famous Van Eiebeeck, the first commandant
of the new settlement, countless travellers have
visited these parts, and many have attempted to
describe them. As if it were given to pen or pencil
to portray on paper or canvas the glorious pano-
rama which seizes, fascinates, and intoxicates one
oa arriving !— that enormous block witli level top
called Table Mountain,^ rising south of the town in
one mass, flanked by two gigantic rocks, the Lion's
Head on the one side and the Devil's Peak on the

VOL. I.

' 3,500 feet above the level of the sea.

// I

SOUTH AFRTCA

[PA»»T I.

other — that mighty barrier against which the
storms that lash unceasingly the southern seas
spend their fury in vain, the image and emblem of
immobility, notwithstanding the variety of its chang-
ing hues, blue as opal in the morning, dull gold in
the afternoon, rose-coloured when the sun is sinking
near tlie horizon, and violet-purple when it has set.
At the foot of this colossus extends a dark-green
fringe flecked with white — the gardens, plantations,
spires, and houses of Cape Town ; farther eastward,
a hght-green expanse flecked with yellow — the
meadows and the sandhills. And above the plain,
stretching away to the interior, loom the jagged
chains of the Blue Mountains. Who could fail to
be enthusiastic at such a glorious sight?

But, from the moment of landing, the traveller
experiences a reaction, prejudiced as he is by the
unfavourable descriptions he has read before
arriving. He finds, as his guide-book told him he
would find, the town itself small, and so indeed it is,
for it counts only 30,000 inhabitants ; damp, and
so it is when it rains ; destitute of monumental
edifices after the styles of the Eenaissance, of
Queen Elizabeth, or Queen Anne, and I congratu-
late it on the fact. What, above all, he misses
with regret are the spacious streets, the houses
built by contractors after some sumptuous uni-
form pattern, and consequently as like each other

[PABT I.

CHAP. II.]

CAPE TOWN

h the
1 seas
lem of
chanc-
roid ill
linking
las set.
:-green
-ations,
;tward,
w — the
I plain,

. fail to

aveller
by the
before
him he
ed it is,
ip, and
mental
ice, of
igratu-
misses
houses
is imi-
other

as drops of water. Tliis uniformity pleases liini,
but it is wantiuLf here. The man of tlie fiiiure,
tlie man of tlie twentieth century, sees his ideal
realised in the cities of America and Australia.
But he does not see it at Ca])e Town, and so lie
judges the town severely. England of old days had
no taste for strai<.,dit hues and streets wide enoiiali
for children, in crossing tliem, to drown themselves
in the pools of rain-water, as happens sometimes
at the Antipodes. But the young Englisliman, tlie
Englishman of the colonies, leans to the American.
Hence the small amount of favour which this good
old kind-hearted Cape Town meets with from its
visitors. Its discredit is so assured and recognised
that some moral courage is required to keep one
from joining in the chorus of its detractors. That
courage I have, but I fail to convert anyone, even
the old inhabitants themselves. Strongly attached
as they are to the spot, they are beginning \.o
doubt whether their affection is legitimate.

Personally, I have found Cape Town charming.
Its aspect reflects its history. And a history it has.
It has not sprung up like a mere mushroom ; its
growth spreads over more than two centuries.

We thread our way first through the motley
crowd that fills the shore and streets adjoining —
sailors, boatmen, fishermen offering their fish for
sale, workmen brought from the island of St.

c 2

I I

SOUTH AFRICA

[part I.

llclona, all of tlioni inon; or loss ])ronzo(l, more or
loss black, a straiiiro nuMlloy of laocs puro and
mixed ; Hottentot descendants of the ancient
masters of the soil ; Kadirs, and ne^^roos from
Naniaqua and Damaraland, and Malays, the free
children of slave parents, bronght from India a
century ago by the Dutch Company, and enfran-
chised under the new regime.

We t'ive into the business quarter. Here the
white element predominates, but the black is here
too. One never loses si'dit of him entirely. lie is
tiie master of the continent. I know not whether
he knows or feels this, but his presence proves the
fact. I would advise the whites to bear this in
mind ; ibr if not, so much the worse for them.
Three or four streets, running parallel, lead to the
centre of the town. Everywhere are warehouses
and tastefully furnished shops, there are one or two
banks of pretentious style, and, despite the general
depression which is weighing just now on the
markets of the world, everyone seems busy.
If it were not for the blacks, you would think
yourself in Europe. Towards evenhig the streets
begin to empty. Everybody, principals and
clerks, masters and subordinates, bankers, mer-
chants, and shopkeepers tolerably well-to-do, live,
HSU Bi itannico, in the country. At this hour
the trains are stuffed with passengers and the

CHAP. 11,]

CAPE TOWN

lii^'liway is covered witli carriaj.res. All fly to
Wynber^r, the ])aradi,se of the Cape. The hiirh
Encrlish authorities, civil and inilitarv, to^^ether
with their stafi; are kept behind by the call oflluty ;
some few Dutch families of the old school re-
main out of attachment to the old home of their
ancestors.

And certainly at Cape Town itself the Dutch
impress is not yet enhced. In former times a
jrrand canal, lined with oak-trees brou^rjit from
Holland, and stone houses with gables to the street,
gave Mynheer who stopped at the Cape on hi J
Avay to Batavia the sweet illusion of his dear
Amsterdam. It was the pi-incipal and the most
populous street. Now the canal and its trees have
disappeared, and the houses have been demolished
and replaced by English stores. J3ut Cape Town
still boasts of many structures which, dating two
centuries back, have retained their Dutch appear-
ance. They are massive stone buildings, sparingly
ornamented, of modest dimensions, but of seigniorial
aspect ; the worthy abodes of patricians. ^^I have
had the advantage of visiting one of them often.
The architecture, the arrangements, the interior,
the furniture, the attendance, the company which'
one meets there, and, above all, the charming lady
of the house, form a congenial little work?, and
give an idea of liigh life in the olden time.

TT^

SOUTH AFRICA

[part u

Cape Town grr. dually clian(,'e.s its appearance
as you go farther from the shore. First conies the
harbour, then the business quarter, then the oflicial
and political town, with Government House, and
the new Parliament buildings, still in course of
construction. A little faither, the town becomes
a garden ; there are the botanical gardens, the
Governor's garden, and the public garden. Farther
still, you find yourself suddenly on the tufted grass
of a large meadow surrounded with pines, in the
solitude and silence of the country. Looking
back, you see only a screen of trees surmounted
by the elegant spires of several churches be-
lonnfinjx to different confessions. South-west,

CO '

some groups of houses climb the first slopes of
the Lion's Head. These distant quarters are in-
habited by the lower classes and by the coloured
population. Go up nevertheless ; you will reach
the top somewhat out of breath, but you will
see at your feet tlie town and ocean, and across
the Bay the ]Uue Mountains and the mountains
of the Hottentots, and Table Mountain every-
where. You may try to escape the giant, but
you cannot. Your eyes always meet it ; they are
fascinated by this rampart of granite which seems
to say to you, ' Here I am, and here I remain.'
It would crush this unique landscape, it would
mar its delicious harmony, were it not for the

CFIA.P. ir.]

CAPE TOWN

immense horizon of tlie ocean which keeps tliat
harmony undisturbed.

I am lodging in an excellent little hotel—the
best in the town they tell nie — and in excellent
company, liut there is a want ; there are no fire-
places ; and so we have to pass our evenings and
the early hours of the morning in our arm-chairs
enveloped in plaids. At ten o'clock the hot air
is let in ; in other words, the windows are opened.
The street is the stove and the sun the furnace.
But when there is no sun, when Table Mountain is
wrapped in the black clouds which the south-west
wind of evil fame sweeps away from him one
moment to replace them by others the next ; when
the houses shake to their foundations, and the
window-panes seem to bend to the fury of the
squalls, whilst at broad noon the darkness of nif^ht
shrouds the city, leaving only pale glimmeu* of
ugly yellow to struggle through the fog, what are
you to do then? You must wait patiently, and
put on an extra plaid. More than once I have
seen an ideal sunset succeed a terrible day. The
weather changes at this season with wonderful
rapidity. But the squalls are often local : while the
vessels anchored in the Bay are in the utmost

1 i- '

,''

» f

SOUTH AFRICA

[fart I.

danger, outside, some five or six miles away, the
sky is serene and the sea Hke glass.

In the absence of the Governor, Sir Hercules
Robinson, Lieutenant-General the Honourable Sir
Leicester Smyth, Commander-in-Chief of the British
forces in South Africa, is fulfilling his duties. He
occupies the Castle on the eastern side of tlie
town, near the harbour, on the same spot where
Van Riebeeck built his block-house, and, for
important reasons, fenced it round ■with stout
palisades. The charming meadow which now
separates the Castle from the merchants' quarter
was then a swamp where the rhinoceros disported
himself, and elephants, tigers, and leopards made
tlieir rendezvous, to say nothing of the periodical
and inconvenient visits of the Hottentot tribes
who camped in the neighbourhood. In tlie
course of years this block-house became a fort,
built in the style of the sixteenth century ; a low
building with thick walls, much exposed to tlie
sea w^inds. It is an interesting memorial of old
times, but an indifferent dwelling-place, and a l)ad
fort, which in these days it would be impossible to
defend. Yet this building, unattractive as it is,
and not even picturesque, will always reawaken in
me delightful memories.

a ! I

CHAP. II.]

CAPE TOWN

Lady Smyth gives receptions once a week, not
at the Castle but at Government House. This is
a spacious edifice, with fine reception-rooms, verv
pleasantly situated in the heart of tlie town, wliich
here is like a garden and a bit of the country. A
verandah runs along the front. Here you can
enjoy air, shade, a lovely view, and the delicious
perfumes from the flower-beds in the park.

In the colonial life of English people tlie
garden-parties of the Governor's lady are a
serious and important business. Not that admis-
sion is diflicult ; one has only to write down one's
name before the first reception of tlie st^'son, and,
on arriving, to state it to the usher at tlie door.'
At the Cape, in Australia, and in all the Eritisli
colonies, there is perfectequahty among the whites.
The Governor, when making lis rounds in tlie
interior, shakes hands with all the Europeans or
Afrikanders'-^ whom he meets, whatever be their
social position. Every really white traveller can
reckon on the hospitality of the planters. But not
all the inhabitants of the privileged colour would
be present at the Thursday entertainments of Lady
Smyth. The retail traders, the clerks and shop-
men, and the common people stay away of their
own accord. They are content iWth the priaciple

' An Afrikander is the son or descendant of European parents
born m Africa. ^

SOUTH AFRICA

Lpari 1.

of equality. Above all, they are people of good
sense ; they feel and know themselves to be the
equals of anyone in the state, but they care very
little to be so in the drawing-room. But, for the
upper stratum of society, the garden-party is an
important affair. It gives a feeling of associating
with royalty ; people enjoy a slight whiff of court
air which elsewhere is unknown ; they like to see
the young aides-de-camp and secretaries approach
her ladyship respectfully to name the ladies in
turn as they arrive. These meetings reca!- home,
they stir the pulse of patriotism, and quicken those
sentiments of loyalty to the Queen which are so
deeply rooted in the hearts of Old England's chil-
dren abroad.

Here, these parties, though more solemn than
lively, present on a fine day a very pleasing
spectacle. The band of the Highlanders, posted
in a grove, plays symphonies and waltzes, to-
ofether with the never- failinf? Scotch reel, and
' God save the Queen,' which gives the signal to
depart. The guests walk about in groups, and, to
speak for a moment of the ladies, I challenge con-
tradiction in declarinop that fine fijrures and fine
dresses are the rule. Here are charming types of
fair Albion ; here also are ladies who seem to have
stepped out of the canvas of Rubens or Van Dyck.
Others, too, there are, and those singularly graceful.

CHAP. II.]

CAPE TOWN

whose pale complexions and dark silken hair call to
mind the revocation of the Edict of Nantes, which
determined their ancestors to found a branch of
the family at the farthest end of Africa. I see
here a fascinating AustraHan. But hush ! here
come the goddesses of the South African Olympus.

It is the height of the Parhamentary session,
and the little Pool's hotel is crowded with
notabihties ; ministers of to-day, yesterday, and to-
morrow ; pohticians of the town and country;
candidates for every sort of employment, for the
' empleomania,' as it is called in the South Ameri-
can Republics, is a disease well known in the
English colonies with a responsible government.
The little temporary hall where sits the House of
Assembly is a few paces from the hotel. The mem-
bers leave the sittings, often very stormy, to come
here and refreJi themselves, and then rush back
to plunge again into the fray. Happily, pohtical
diflerences do not disturb their personal and social
relations. In this they have the good sense to
follow the wise example of the mother-country.

Nevertheless, the Opposition dine by themselves.
They occupy a long table. Here may be seen their
leaders, Mr. Upington, the late Premier, one of

W-W

SOUTH AFR CA

[part I.

the ornaments of the bar ; Mr. Gordon Spricrcf, the
Prime Minister of Sir Bartle Frere ; some members
of the Butch party, and other pohticians of local
fame. I do not see licre Colonel Schermbruker,
whom I often meet in society. The colonel, a
Bavarian by birth, one of the last veterans of tlie
Anfjlo-German Le<:?ion, and now a member of the
Legislative Council, knows well how to speak out
when it comes to tightening the public purse-strings.
But who is the young man seated at the same
table, with an intelligent look, a grave deportment,
and a sympathetic air? Like so many others, he
left England and came here when quite young,
obscure, and poor. He bought a small farm, and
failed. He then did what others do in similar
cases ; he went to the diamond-fields. There
fortune smiled upon him, and by his energy,
activity, and perseverance he earned her favours.
He returned to the Cape a rich man. But then he
discovered something more rare and hard to find
than a diamond mine. He discovered that gold is
not everything in the world ; that learning and
education are wanted also. He returned post-haste
to England, took to studying hard, and, ransacking
the mines of science, came back here again, a
graduate of Oxford and a man of good manners.
From that day it was an easy matter to obtain
election to the House of Assembly, where he holds

CHAP. 11.]

CAPE TOWN

apcsition of some distinction and controls a certain
number of votes. He is looked upon as one of tlie
members of the first Ministry wliicli will be formed
from the ranks of the Opposition. But his ambition
does not stop there. He aims still lii^her He
hopes to enter the English Parliament;'and who
knows but that some day he will figure in the
Queens Cabmet ? H he succeeds in so doinc. he
wdl not be the first wlio has reached that ..oil bv
passmg through the colonies. The path which he
has taken, and means to take, marks him out to
me as one of those many links, almost invisible to
the naked eye, but wliich collectively form a
bond strong enough to bind the colonies firmlv
to the mother-country and the mother-country
to the colonies. -^

Not being one of the Opposition, I occupy a
small table with Mr. Merriman, one of the l.Lt
pronunent men>bers of the present Administration,
and Mr. Graham Bower, a naval officer and the
Governors private secretary, and their youn-r and
chanuing wives. At tin.es this table is joined by
the Prnne Mm.ster, Mr. Scanlen, and other poli^
ticuins of his party. '

In the colonies which are endowed witli a
responsible government, and which must be dis-
tmgmshed from the Crown colonies, where the
representative of the Queen exercises authoritative

r«

SOUTH AFRICA

[part I.

power, the Governor is a strictly constitutional
ruler. He appoints the Ministers, but he must
choose them from the majority of the legislative
body. He has the right to dissolve the Elective
Chamber, but he abstains as much os possible from
so grave a measure. His powers are therefore
strictly limited, the more so, as it is the local
ministry that appoints to all offices and recom-
mends to honours. Nevertheless, respect is paid
to his Excellency as the Queen's representative,
and in the colonies the Queen is an immense moral
power. The sentiment of loyalty, still extremely
active, behind which are grouped and sheltered
a host of private and public interests, constitutes
the strength of the Governor. If he has tact,
patience, andsavoirfah^e, notwithstanding the half-
republicr*" and wholly democratic character of the
constitution, he can sometimes, at critical moments,
make his influence prevail.

Furthermore, the autonomy enjoyed by the
colonies of this class, extensive as it is, has never-
theless its limits. If the Governor finds that the
conduct of the Ministers is calculated to injure
certain Imperial interests, he can, and he is bound
to interfere. He refuses his sanction to the Bill
which he considers prejudicial ; he exercises his
veto and refers the matter to the Queen's Ministers,
who decide in the last resort. The position of the

' I

) M

CHAP. II.]

CAPE TOWN

-^I

Governor of the Cape, who is also Hicrh Com-
missioner for South Africa, is complicated further
by questions, as grave as they are delicate, relatincr
to the natives. "

It is not here at Mr. Pool's dinner-table, at
dessert, that I shall try and fathom the complex
and manifold duties of these high functionaries. I
have said enough to show the importance of the
part played in English colonies by the Governor's
private secretary, just because he is his organ for
everything that cannot be dealt with officially.

If this personage is equal to his mission, he
enjoys and deserves the confidence of his cliief •
he is, above all, an Imperialist, and he is not a
party man ; he knows everything and everybody •
he is discretion personified, and receives the con-
fidence of men in office. To him they impart
their aspirations, their grievances, their fears, and
he listens to them in a kindly spirit. He neither
encourages nor discourages. He knows the oppor-
tune moment at which to hint an opinion, to point
to an open door, to suggest a compromise. But he
will beware of saying anything that might cool his
relations with those in power to-day or embroil
himself with those in power to-morrow. His eye
takes in the whole situation no less than the de-
tails which he knows to be important. Nothinrr is
too high to elude his careful vigilance, nothin^^'^so

SOUTH AFRICA

[pari I.

insignificant as to be neglected. He knows tliat
in politics nothing is insignificant. With his right
liand he pours, when needful, some drops of oil on
tlie Parliamentary machine ; with his left he puts in
motion the wheels of his office. Such is the ideal
of the private secretary to a colonial governor,
so well realised by Mr. Bower. This wonderful
man, in the midst of all these occupations, seems
never to be busy. He even finds time to pilot
about an old tourist. Good heavens ! what
should I do without Mr. Bower and Major Boyle,
the aide-de-camp of the Commander-in-Chief? I
should be a white atom on the black continent.

No one spends a month at Cape Town with-
out paying frequent visits to Wyuberg and its
environs. The hospitality of its inhabitants and
the beauty of the landscape invite you. Table
Mountain, as usual, dominates the scene ; only
from here you see its southern side. A dense
forest clothes its base, fills up the ravines, creeps
along the precipices, and ends with the perpen-
dicular sides of the wall of rock. At the foot of
this mountain a sloping terrace, undulating, un-
even, and thickly clothed with ancient oaks and
pines brought from Holland, begins to descend
gradually to the plain. It is a park, or rather a

) ni

CHAP, ri,]

CAPE TOWN

foi-cst fuiTowod l)j' loner avenues; it is not a town,
l)ut it is Wynberg ; that is to say, a collection of
houses dotted anionp-st the folia<xe, with their shinini^
windows, their well-whitewashed walls, and their
more or less Dutch asi)ect ; only they are furnished
in Enrrlish manner and with English comforts.
From the higher points you can see False Bay and
the sea-line ; but this sea is not the Atlantic which
you have left at Cape Town. It is the Indian
Ocean, or ' the Ocean,' as they call it here. The
rocks that extend in profde on our right form the
chain known by the generic name of the Cape of
Good Hope, still haunted by leopards.

Can you see a white spot half-way along the
range of hills which form the first terraces of the
high mountains ? This is Constantia, whi( h gives
its name to the celebrated wine so highly esteemed
in Europe. It is the old and hospitable abode of
the Cloete family. Their ancestors built it and
planted round the house those magnificent oaks
whose arched backs bear to-day the w^eight of two
centuries. Do not fail to visit this s])ot, which
puts one in mind of Cintra, and to inspect the vines
which produce the precious liquid, and the cellars,
not subterranean, which contain it. From the
terrace in front of the house we see on the horizon
a rocky peak. It is Cape Foint, the extremity of
the chain, and the real Cape of Good Hope, called

VOL. 1. jj

SOUTH AFRICA

[part I.

originally Cabo dos Tormcntos, or Cape of StDrins,
and meritin<^ both names, since storms and fine
weather quickly succeed eacli other there, and the
mariner who is doubling it has always reason to
hope and to fear.

It is in this paradise of Wj-nberg, then, that
the people of Cape Town live. They go tliitlier
in the morning, and return here in the evening.
TJie distance is only from six to ten miles.

I have had the advantage of making the ac-
quaintance of nearly all the public men of mark
in the colcmy. But it is at Wynberg es])ecially
and in its environs that I was able to enjoy
their society. At Cape Town everyone is busy.
In the country people unbend, and are at ease.
It is at Wynberg, at the houses of Sir David
Tennant, the President of the House of Assemblv,
and a noted lawyer ; of Mr. Alexander Vanderbyl,
the head of one of the old Dutch families ; of Sir
Henry de V'illiers, Chief Justice and President of
the Upper Chamber ; and in Cape Town at that
of Mrs. Koopmans, that I met the fashionable
and distinguished society of the Cape. At all
tliese houses are found intellectual culture, well-
bred manners, exquisite politeness, little luxury,
but all the comforts of a life at once simple and

CHAP, n.]

CAPE TOWN

refined. Society— as the term is known in Europe
—is composed mainly of the EnLdisli odicial
world, of the ofTicers of the Ih'itish army— -LTreatly

reduced in numbers just at present of thl>

heads of the Clinrch and State, of the leading
judges and merchants, together with the consuls
and the old Dutch families. As in India and
Australia and all the other English colonies, the
heads of the large English commercial honses are
in the habit of returning, as soon as ])()8sible, to
England, leaving the management of the business
to their junior partners, who will do the same
when the time comes. Those who remain,
and never dream of quitting Africa where thev
were born, where they live, and where they will
die, are the Dutch. I am told that, amon<r the
old ftimilies of this nation, some have been very
wealthy. Their fortune consisted, or consists,
mainly of landed property. The landownej- lives
by the produce of his lands, which suffices for his
wants, but he does little to increase it. The grow-
ing difficulty of getting hands is one of the clauses
of this stagnation. Thus wealth has become easy
circumstances. Nothing in this world is at a
standstill. We must either rise or sink.

D 2

SOUTH AFRICA

[part I.

T |)asst'(l ii (It'liLilitfiil (lay at nisli()j)'s Court
with tho Aiij/licaii hisliop, Dr. Jones. T1»l*
"vvcatlu'r was ideal, and I ask niyscll' soinctinu's

if what I saw was not a di'cai

I sat

Ml the

vcraiuhdi looki'iii' northward, towards tlic sun,
for it was noon, iielbre me is a luminous chaos :
it takes somi' moments to distinuruisli details.
First comes a bu.sh without leaves, but laden with
larue scarlet flowers. Behind it are sonu' shrubs
of ui'eyish ;ireen. In the farther back^rround
stands a forest of ])ines interlacinj.? their twisted
branches ; their colour just now is a brilliant irreen.
And in front of this curtain stands out a soft
jTiven tissue made of the half-opened ves of
numerous ^.iroups of aged oaks. In the extreme
distance, but apparently quite nera* us — so near that
I fancy I can touch them with my hand — stand
the fantastic rocks, veiled in transparent shadows,
of Table Mountain and the Devil's Peak.

In the afternoon the bishop and Mrs. Jones
took me to the forest of silver trees, which are
only found at the Cape of Good Hope. This time,
assuredly, it was a fairy scene. We walk on be-
tween trees of moderate height : trunks, branches,
foliage, all seem of pure silver ; the oblong leaves
somewhat stiff, as if of metal, but finely chiselled,
lift their slender points upward to the sky. The
sunbeams dance upon them. The light, direct

CHAP. II.]

CAPE TOWN

and reflected, enliMiKx-d l)y the contrast with
the baekjrround of pines, Ui\\v dark, would dazxle
you. To rest your eyes you turn to the moun-
tains. Ihit the sun is no lon<jer behind tlu-ni ;
Ills slantin*^ rays are strikin<r tiie saHent ])oints,'
caressing^ tlie angles, enguhing themselves and
ex])iring in the gorges.

These natural features of the Cape are unlike
anything seen elsewhere. Only its oaks and Dutch
pines serve to remind one of Europe. It is not
semi-tropical, as its latitude would entitle it to be.
It is mi (jerterls. The sky also is diflerent, seldom
blue, like the ultramarine blue of the Mediter-
ranean ; but towards sunset it breaks out into
supernatural brightness, into lights of extreme
intensity, coloured with saffron, pink, and violet,
until night comes to put an end to these fireworks.
Another peculiarity which has been shown me, and
which I had noticed already, is the absence of
sound when the weather is calm. Not a bird is
heard to sing in the air or in the grove ; there is
not a trace of living beings. A friend tells me that
every morning, on opening his window at sunrise,
he is struck by this silence, which gives him a
feeling of home-sickness.

Adm.iral Salmon, commanding the naval station
of the Cape, which includes the West Coast of

'■1

■•■

SOUTH AFRICA

[part 1.

Africa, the Cape, and Natal, lias liis headquarters
at Simon's Bay. Wlien not at sea, he occupies a
pretty estate near tlie si i ore, part of which he has
made into a charming garden. You see there
magnilicent conifers and some beautiful specimens
of the South African llora. His flagship is an-
chored in front of the house. It is one of the most
solitary and most poetical nooks in the world. Ex-
cept a few houses a mile away, dignified by the
name of Simon's Town, there is nothing but rocks,
shore, and sea. But the Admiralty and Admiral
Salmon like this place, where the crews are not
exposed to the allurements of the African Capua.
The ladies also are fond of it, and even the officers
are satisfied with this bucolic existence, which is
in their case, however, often broken by the toils,
cares, and excitements of the sea. Everyone seems
happy. You might fancy yourself in the bosom of
a numerous fVimily. I like these large households,
the comforts of the domestic hearth in distant lands,
and the brotherly intercourse of sailors ; this frank
intimacy between chiefs and officers, gently kept in
check by the usages of the world and the tradi-
tions of discipline.

Monsignor Leonard, the Roman Catholic bishop
of Cape Town, was kind enough to take me to see

cnAP. n.]

:ape town

tlie Sisters, whose schools are much frequented. It
is the same with the College of St. Joseph. The
Brothers w^ho direct it belong to different nations.
There are several Belgians among them. A large
number of pupils, boys and little girls, are Pro-
testants. This visit left an excellent impression
upon me. The rooms are large and well ventilated.
The children, especially the boarders, wdio live on
the premises, are extremely neat, and everyone,
both teachers and pupils, seems contented, happy,
and healthy. With the Sisters I saw a young
negress. They spoke highly of her intelligence
and apphcation. If she perseveres, she will be
baptised, but not till tw^o years are over. Mean-
while, she is a catechumen. It is a rule from
which the missionaries, both Protestant and Eoman
CathoHc, never depart. An extreme fickleness of
mind, coupled with a higlily impressionable nature,
peculiar to the black race, renders this precaution
necessary.

The diocese of Bishop Leonard embraces an
immense territory, from the Orange River in the
north to the sea-coast on the south and west.
The Eoman Catholics, labourers or farm-servants,
nearly all of them Irish, and scattered over this
enormous tract, often in places which might be
called inaccessible, are for the most part very poor.
Mgr. Leonard, though he spends much of the year

I 1

SOUTH AFRICA

[part I.

in travelling, can scarcely visit those in his diocese
once in two years. Their cliiklren receive no in-
struction except what the bishop can give them
during his visits. It is he who baptises them, who
marries them, and who prays before the tombs
which lie scattered alonjx his road.

Passing before the public library, I stop some-
times before a stone statue, not on account of its
artistic value, but because it represents a remark-
able man. It is one of tlie rare examples of a
monument erected in honour of a man during his
lifetime. In this case he is a statesman, whose
name has been, and is still, a name of note in tlie
Southern Hemisphere. It was Sir George Grey
who founded this library when he was Governor,
and, with the munificence that distinguishes him.
endowed it with a large number of rare and
precious books, and, among others, with a unique
collection of publications of every kind relating to
Cape Colony and South Africa in general. Some
of these treasures I was able to admire, but the
gentleman who did me the honours called away
my attention. He is one of the librarians, still a
young man, but already known in the scientific
world as a philologist, and the explorer of an
almost unknown portion of tliis continent. Dr.

CHAP, ir.]

CAPE TOWN

Theophilus Hahn, tlie son of a German missionary,
has passed eight years in Namaqiialand, and, in
addition to vahiable works since acquired by tlie
Government, has brought back a knowledge whicli,
I am told, is wonderful, of the manners and, above
all, the languages of these tribes. When the spirit
of European enterprise shall penetrate these
hitherto mysterious regions, it will find itself in the
prese.xCe of a world as new as it is now enigmatical
while the doors are closed. It would be worth
while then to ask Dr. Hahn for the key, for he
possesses it.

At some distance east, rd from Cape Town
you enter a stretch of flat marshy ground, sloping
gradually to the sea. At far intervals you see a
small house, here and there a clump of trees, and
since last year a group of cottages, tlie dwellings
of German immigrants ; and three miles fartlicr,
upon an isolated mound, a tower, which is the
observatory where Sir John Herschel immortalised
himself Thanks to him, the Cape of Good Hope
retains its scientific fame. This is the charac-
teristic of great men. They are like the sun,
which, after having disappeared below the horizon,
still bathes the sky in luminous tints. It is only
savants of the first rank whom Enaland deems
worthy to succeed this hero of science — Maclure,

SOUTH AFRICA

[part I.

Stone, and now Dr. Gill, the present Astronomer
Royal at the Cape. His house, surrounded by a
garden, a few steps from the observatory, is one
of tlie centres of intellectual life at Cape To^vn.
You are sure of enjoying there lively, intelligent,
and cheerful conversation, serious and scientific if
you wish ; and you find there also Mrs. Gill, who
has made herself known by a charming monograph
on the Isle of Ascension, where her husband made
important observations.^ This is a bare rock half-
way between Africa and America. I know not
whether it gains by being seen, but it certainly
gains by being "known through Mrs. Gill's book.
There are artists who, without being faithless to
truth, can put charm and intelligence into the
description of features which have none in them-
selves. It would seem to be chiefly women who
possess the secret of working these little miracles.

In another and more lonely part of the plain,
which here has become a steppe covered with
brushwood, and not far from the farmhouse which
served as the residence of Cetewayo while prisoner
of State, is seen among fine trees, in the midst
of an enclosure, an old hut, the abode of a man
whose name for some time has stirred the political

'•^ Six Months in Ascension,

CHAP. 11.]

CAPE TOWN

world and given tronble to the governors of two
colonies.

In 1875, Langalebalele, one of the principal
chiefs of the Zulus, and a refugee in Natal, refused
to obey a certain law, took to fliglit with his tribe,
was overtaken and made prisoner. In an encounter
his warriors liad killed some Euirlish soldiers.

Tliese acts, of dangerous example in a land
where the very existence of tlie white residents
depends mainly on their prestige, gave occasion
for severe measures. Lanfralebalele was brouirht
before a tribunal composed ad hoc, declared guilty
of rebellion, and condemned to deportation for life„
Accordingly, he was shut up with his son in an
islet in the bay of Ca]:)e Town. Ilis tribe was
broken up and his cattle confiscated. Lord Car-
narvon, on becoming Secretary of State for the
Colonies, had the case again enquired into, and it
was found that the proceedings had been irregular,
and that the exiled chiei was not a rebel, but only
guilty of disturbing the public peace. Thereupon
he was removed to the house which he has occu-
pied for the last eight years.

I was curious to see liim, and Major Boyle ac-
companied me. We were received by two gaolers
or warders, known b}^ tlie euphonious name of
' care-takers.' They conducted us to a small room
furnished with a table and some chairs ; and in a

'I !

Lt^-

SOUTH AFRICA

[part I.

few minutes the prisoner of State appeared, ac-
companied by a young man, one of his sons,
who performed, indifferently enough, the duties of
interpreter, and by two of his numerous Avives, one
old and the other young, who are allowed to remain
with him. Tlie young woman held a baby in her
arms, the prisoner's youngest child. They were
all dressed like Europeans, and lo'^-.od like com-
mon poor people careless about their dress.

Langalebalele seems about fifty or sixty years
of age. He is extrenely taciturn, and scarcely
answered even in monosyllables the questions ad-
dressed to him, but suddenly his features lit up
with an expression of violent wrath. ' How much
longer,' cried he, ' do they mean to keep me here ? '
His son added, turning to us, ' Angry, very angry.'

I hastened to put an end to this visit, which I
reproach myself with having made. We can un-
derstand the reasons of State which stand in the
way of sending back this powerful chief to his
country. We have not forgotten the sad experi-
ence of the restoration of Cetewayo. But, however
necessary, this captivity is none the less hard. The
civilised man who finds himself in a similar situation
has a thousand resources which the savage has not.
Certainly he is treated with gentleness and wants
for nothing. From the purely material point of
view he has probably never been better off. But

cnAP, II. J

CAPE lOWN

one tliinpr ]ie has not, and tliat is ]i])erty. Tie is
like a caged lion, who gnaws tlie l)arH and tries in
vain to Inirst tlieni. Tlie old cliief is heginninir
also to betray signs of craziness. It is the only
painful recollection that I carry with me from
the Cape.

September 8.— The rain lias fallen in torrents
all tlie night, but at eiglit o'clock the sky cleared
and I went to the railway station, wliere Mr. John
Noble and Dr. Atherstone were waiting for me ;
they are to accompany me on an excursion to the
mountains of tlie Drakenstein.

Mr. John Xoble, the clerk and librarian of the
Legislative Ass«-mbly, is an author of merit. I
think it is he, and in another walk Mr. E. W.
Murray, the proprietor of the ' Cape Times,' the
principal organ of the SoLtli African press, who
have done most in our days to make the country
of their adoption known beyond Africa itself.^

Lr. Gayborn Atherstone, one of the first
medical authorities in the colony, has spent a lar<re
portion of his long life in Kaffraria, on the banks

^ I recommend to those who take an interest in this part of the
world, South Africa, Past and Present, by John Noble 1877 It
is partly from this book that I borrow the r v historical notices
which have seemed to me indispensable in order to make mv
journal intelligible. ^

SOUTH AFRICA

[part I.

of the Orange River, and in tlie nortli-western and
otlier parts of Soutli Africa. It was he wlio ex-
amined and recognised as a diamond the first pre-
cious stone found in the veldts, since made famous
as tlie ' diamond-fields.'

We passed tlirough Paarl witliout stopping,
and arrived, after a two hours' journey, at Wel-
lington, distant fifty-five miles from Cape Town.
Here we leave the railway, to climb one of tlie
mountains which form the first terrace of the
lofty plateaus of tlie interior. A good carriage-
road leads across this chain to Worcester. We
shall follow it only as far as the famous defile of
Baines-Kloof. After crossinjf an undulatincr tract
covered with plantations, farms, and kitchen-
gardens, our car, drawn by four spanking little
horses, ^rets amon<? the rocks. Ere lonsr we
have reached a considerable heiixht. The road,
carried on an extremely steep incline in some places,
follows the windings of the Drakenstein, and tlie
points of view vary at each curve that it describes.
At length we gam the summit. In the chaos of
rocks, either bare or covered with fern, wliich sur
round us, nature has contrived two vistas. West-
ward, the eye dives down into the valley w^e have
just left. The white specks are the houses of Wel-
lington, lessened by the distance. The rock ending
in two half-domes, which the Boers compare to

CHAP. II.]

CAPE TOWN

pearls, commancls the important Dutch centre tlie
town of Paarl. Beyond it lies an immense vehlt of
]xale yellow with spots of green ; so many oases in
he nndst of t]ie desert. To tlie north-west, between
the side-scenes formed by the al^rnpt rocks, is seen
another stony plain, streaked witli dark lines tlie
bush, studded with cultivated fields of soft ^r^een
which excite tlie enthusiasm of riy companions.'
IJiey know what sweat and perseverance it costs
to clear this soil. To our left, the chain whose
crest we have surmounted trends northward • tlie
enormous rock of dark blue, which stands' out
prominently in the veldt, bears the name of the
first governor of the Cape. On the extreme
horizon, a high mountain, bright in colour and
with a bold and fine outline, rising perpendicularly
on the side focing the plain, thrusts itself forth in
the form of a promontory. It is Piquetbercr Its
name, like that of Eiebeeckberg, recalls thelieroic
age of the Dutch colony.

The petty surgeon who began his career on
board the vessels of the Dutch Company, and be-
came later on the first commander of the new
settlement, which he in reahty founded, at the ex-
tremity of Africa, ever lives in the memory of tl'ie
Cape colonists. This intelligent man, brave when
occasion required, always prudent, nearly alway.
just m his deahngs with the savages, was the faithful

SOUTH AFRICA

[PVRT r.

hut wily servant of mercliants wlio looked only
to j/ain and had few scruples as to the choice of
means, but withal were exactinji to a dej^ree and
sticklers for authority, awkward masters and hard
to satisfy. In every way Jan Antonius Van Rie-
beeck is and will remain a fifrure in history."'*

Baines-Kloof, a narrow defile hemmed in by
steep rocks, enjoys a high reputation at Cape Town,
from its picturesque beauty. In truth, the innu-
merable little cascades, fed during part of the year
with abundant rains, and the small blocks of stcjne
which encumber the principal stream, recall the
glens of Scotland. But to my mind the great charm
of these spots consists in the vast sky-lines and in
the contrast between the naked rocks and the vege-
tation of the waste lands. Spring, with its magic
w^and, has carpeted the veldts, but yesterday still dry
and colourless, with huge white and yellow flowers ;
the shrubs display their pink and scarlet blossoms ;
and buds of tender violet appear on the greyish-green
masses of fern. The air is redolent with perfumes.
While the neighbouring gorges are wrapped in dark-
ness, and a grey haze obscures the valley of Paarl,
here on the height we are w\alking in a halo of light.
A shinting sunbeam, lightly veiled, caresses the

* See the very curious book, Chronicles of Cajte Commanders ;
or, An Abstract of Original Mamiscrijits in the Cape Colony,
1G51-1691, published by Theal, Cape Town, 1882.

criAP. 11.]

CAPE TOWN

I ■

foHa^uo ; fawn-coloured rays are creeping into the
crevices of a flinty <rr()un(l, wanderiiiir anionir the
stenis of tlie ilowers, dyino- gently at the appmach
of night.

At eiglit o'clock, slightly, hut not over tired, we
are at Paarl, comfortably installed in an hotel kept
by a Dutclunan. Xothing can be more ])leasant,
after a day well spent, tlian to dine in good com-
pany, to sit down to table hungry, to be well
served, to feel still the enjoyment of the air-bath
taken on the mountains, and to learn from and to
listen to agreeable companions who know what
you ignore.

From Wellington to the entrance to Baines-
Kloof is a distance oi' ten miles, and from Eaines-
Kloof to Paarl eighteen.

September 9.— For the second time I find
myself at Faarl, that large village, two miles in
length, which is only the high-road bordered with
gardens and houses, inhabited mainly by the Dutch.
During my first visit I made the acquaintance of a
rich proprietor, a good specimen of a Boer. He
owns two houses ; one dates from the seventeenth
century ; the other, where he received us, was built
at the beginning of the nineteenth. It is, in truth,
old Holland, such as we know it from the pictures
and prints of the epoch of that nation's greatness,
such as we see it still in Friesland and the buried

VOL.1. ^

SOUTH AFRICA

[part I.

rities of the Zuyder-Zoe. If tlic portrait of my
host's iiiotlier was not {)ainte(l by l{iil)ons or Van
Dyck, tlic original would have ))een worthy of that
honour. The inanter c)f the house has the hands of
a peasant and the bearing of a lord. He made uti
taste the wines of his vineyard, and seemed vexed
at not being able to ofler us any oranges ; a disease,
hitherto unknown, having lately destroyed nearly
all the oi'ange plantations, which constituted ere-
while the glory of Paarl.

It is Sunday : burghers and Boers, in carriages,
on horseback, and on foot, with their wives and
children, all duly dressed in Sunday garb, are going
solemnly to church. The coloured population, on
their part, are doing the same. Needless to say
they have a church to themselves. This distinc-
tion between blacks and whites, so strictly observed
at the present day, was unknown a little more than
a century ago. The man of colour who embraced
the Christian religion became the equal of the
white. The lands belonging to the pagans were
the natural heritage of the people of God, who
could seize them without committing any sin.
Pagans, but not Christians, whatever might be the
colour of the latter, could be reduced to a state
of slavery. The archives of Cape Town prove this.
Thus, as soon as Catherine, a young Hindoo, has
received baptism, Admiral Bogaers emancipates

THAP. II.]

CAIK TOWX

her. and slie is artually doscrihod in tlio nxristcr
in the same inaniicr as the Adiniral's nierc— </,>
i'rrhani'fi jn„i/,' .AW/A'/' «—t lie ' lioiiourahle yoim.r
dauo-litor.' The reason is that the considerations
of reli«rion which were paranionnt in the seven-
teenth eentury, at rJie Cape were jjrohmcrod far
into the ei<.diteenth.

Meanwhile we j^et into onr earriai^e and leave
tlie town, now ^dven n]) to sermons and hymns.
After passinor thron<,di a lon^ avenue of old i)ut('li
pines we <iain the open country, teemin«r with
plantations and Dutch farms. rA'avin<r this time
the splendid Drakenstein on our left, we rapidly
approach tlie mountains. The weather is super!)
beyond description ; it is a real sprincr niornino-,
and a South African sprinj^^ such as had been pro-
mised me. Eyes, nos-, and lungs all drink in enjoy-
ment. At noon we are at Fransh-IIoek, ten miles
from Paarl.

Fransh-IIoek is a place without an exit, a,
valley terminating abruptly in a wall of rock. To
surmount it the Dutch cut a carriage-road, now
abandoned, by wdiich colonists who were tired
of the Cape penetrated into the regions of the
interior, then altogether unknown." This spot,
hidden in the bends of the mountains, was the'
asylum chosen by the first Huguenot emigrants who

* Chronicles of Cape Commamhys.

E d

i-^ii'

SOUTH AFRICA

[part I.

came from France after tlie revocation of the Edict
of Xantes. Tlie almost circular valley, liemmed in
on tliree sides with rocks, is to the eye of the
Dutchman, as well as to that of a Frencliman Ije-
come Dutch, a classic soil to which clinir memories
dear to his lieart. Here are a few farms, and
some <ijood-sized houses surrounded with iiardens
and plantations.

We souLdit the ]ios])itality of tlie Hugo family,
wlio came hitlier in IG'Jo. Tlie title-deeds of their
estate, which they showed us, bear date 1094.
The h.ouse, spacious and comfortable, and essentially
Dutch, has been rebuilt on the original site. In the
garden we adinii-ed an aged and colossal oak. The
diameter of its branches is ninety-three feet.

The Hugos came with the first French emi-
grants ; here they settled, and here they have
remained to this day. The members of the family
rarely leave their farm to go to Stellenbosch, the
nearest town ; only once or twice a year in fact, and
only visit Cape Town when absolutely obliged.
They are still in mourning for the patriarch Hugo,
who died recently. It is the custom to wear it for
three years for the head of the family. His chil-
dren, gi'andchildren, and great-grandchildren can-
not understand his being dead. ' He was never ill,'
they told us ; ' he never kept his bed a single
day of his life, and his deaih was quite sudden.

CHAr. II.]

CAPE TOWN

It is astonishing.' ' xVnd how old was he?' I
asked. ' Xinety-three years,' was their reply. And
yet tliey think it astonishing that he shonld die !

Ilis son and his son's Avife are now the head of tlie

family. Neitlier of them knows a word of Enixlisli.

They only talk Dutch. We found there two of

their daughters, one of them with her husband and

children, quite simple, natural, and pleasant people ;

not a trjice of elegance, but nothinjr vult'ar or

coarse. The patriarch liimself counted two hundred

and ninety-two direct descendants, of whom two

liundred and eleven are still ahve. It is impossible

to convey in words an idea of the repose and rural

prosperity which mark this secluded nook of the

world. I was not surprised to find that not a

member of the family knew the languaire of his

ancestors. All the descendants of the Frencli

emigrants are in the same plight. Tlie old Dutch

government regarded it as essential to aboHsh the

use of French. And they succeeded completely,

for Le Vaillant, who visited the colony in 1780,

found only one old man who understood tliat

language.

The rov] to 8tellenbosch, which might be
better, takes us along tlie mountains, through a
fine Jdoof, or defih', into a tract of country on the
whole well cultivjited. Half way we halted at a
large farm, where we met with a cordial welcome.

■f

m \

SOUTH ArRICA

[part I.

The people here also are Dutch, but tlie furniture
and all the ways of the liouse remind one that
a town is near, though it is only the little town
of Stellenbosch. Even here few of tlie family can
talk Englisii.

Continuing our way we pass, among the ucks,
some splendid kitchen-gardens. Two German
families have in a few years changed tiie desert into
a little paradise. Before nightfall we reach Stellen-
boscli, fifteen miles from Paarl. Tliis small town is
a perfect gem. Exquisitely neat stone liouses, witli
L'ables lookiuLi' on the street, and sliininix window-
panes ; old oak-trees everywliere, in the streets,
along the canals, and round some o])en spaces
carpeted witli turf. A town of lluysdael or
Breughel at the farthest extremity of Africa, in
the secfmd half of the nineteenth century. What
a dehghtful anomaly, what a charming ana-
chronism !

Ill

CIIAPTEE III.

EASTERX PROVINCES — KABl'^RARIA.

July 31 to August 15.

Tlie Cape of Good Hope — Port Elizabeth — A railroad infested with
elephants — Graham's Town — Entering Kaffraria — Kinj^
"William's Town and the colony of Brunswick — Magistrates and
Kaffirs The coast of Pondoland.

July 31. — At one o'clock in tlie day tlie steamer
leaves tlie docks. The sea is rough. Huge waves
follow one upon another in rhythmical succes-
sion. It is a known fact that in no sea, not
even off Cape Horn, do the billows rise to such
a height. They are more than fifty feet high.
The wesi -nnd freshens into a gale. The view of
the coast is magnificent. The rocks, now shrouded,
now showing their outlines, here serrated, there
Hat like Table Mountain, appear and disappear at
each roll of the vessel. The ])reakers, dashin^
with fury against th-^m. lash the base of these
gigantic masses whc>!*e dark violet tints contrast
with tile bright green colour of the sea. Each
wave hurls afar its crest of foam. The fierce

■

SOUTH AFRICA

I'ART r.

squalls keep chasing at terrific speed the big clouds,
whicli try in vain to cling to the mountain sides.
On the land, there is not a trace of cultivation or
dwelhng ; and, in fact, there would not be space
enough to plant a cottage. The rock goes down
sheer into the sea. Flocks of larj^e jjulls flv around
and follow us. A huge whale, not far off, shoAvs
and hides in turn its enormous back. The litful
■ KMit^ which pierces the mist one moment to
vanish again the next, gives to this sublime spec-
tacle a weird and mournful character.

Night approaches, and to port we can see the
lights of Cape Point, the extremity of the Cape of
Good Hope. The steamer, forced to keep at a re-
spectful distajice from Cape Agulhas, the southern-
most promontory of Africa, holds on towards the
south. Not before eiiiht o'clock does she head
eastward and enter the Indian Ocean.

August 1. — The coast is flat. These long hori-
zontal lines are the veldts — grassy plains, now
changed, after eight months of drought, into tracts
oif dust — or the ' bush,' wide tracts of scrub. If
farms are there we cannot see them.

Tlie ship drops anchor before Mossel Bay, a
cluster of small houses with roofs of corrugated
iron. Beside and behind it are a low rock and

CHAP. III.] EASTERN PROVINCES — KAFFRARIA

sandhills, and in the hollows of the ground, scrub.
Sliore, sandhills, rocks, houses, all are yellow,
except the bush, which is grey, being powdered
with sand. Nothing can be more dismally ugly.
I scorn to go ashore.

But, to make up for this, a liuge shark treated
us to a strange and fantastic spectacle. The sailors,
wlio declared he was nearly twelve feet long, threw
him a big lump of meat fastened to a rope. The
monster at once set to work. As all this was
going on below the stern, we could watch tliis
formidable creature at our ease, and close by — an
incident not so pleasant under other circumstances.
His colour was hght brown, bordering on pink,
and he had the tiniest eyes. First he described a
circle round his prey, then darted at it suddenly,
but could not seize it, passing always to one side
After repeating these attacks sundry times, tired
of the battle, and seemingly ashamed of his
defeat, the monster plunged down below not to
reappear.

August 2 and 3. — We arrived this morning at
Port Ehzabetli. Setting foot in the town, you
would say it was England, but for the South
African scenery and tlie Kaffirs. In the western
part of the colony, at Cape Town, and especially

SOUTH AFRICA

[part I.

in the districts of Paarl and Stellenl)osch, it is tlie
Diitcli element that is most conspiciions. Port
Ehzabetli is the most important commercial centre
of the colony. Here you meet principally English-
men in quest of a fortune. They are mostly self-
made men. Xearly all the male inhabitants are
engaged in trade, and work nine hours a day. As
the mail is leaving to-night, everyone is particularly
busy. Nevertheless, several of these gentlemen,
in order to show me their town, of which they
have good cause to be proud, relieve each other
from hour to hour, thus sacrificing the most pre-
cious treasure they possess — their time. It is true
lios])itality indeed !

My several guides drive me about Main Street,
a thoroughfare two miles in length, which runs
parallel with the shore. It is the business quarter.
In spite of the depression, which prevails every-
where, and here in particular, where wild specula-
tions in diamond shares have caused more disasters
than elsewhere, I find this long avenue, which is
lined with warehouses and shops, filled with vehicles
of eveiy kind, and full of life. Wool and ostrich
feathers form the chief articles of export. We
visit the markets where these precious feathers are
sold by auction — usually at from 5/. to 10/. a pound.
The stocks accumulated in the building must
represent a fabulous sum.

CHAP. III.] EASTERN PROVINCES— KAFFRARIA 59

111 tlie liarboiir, wliore tlicre were but a few
vessels, we saw a crunvr of some hrtj Kaffirs load-
in*,^ a sliip witli ballast. They were fine, stroncr.
looking men, who handled with much graee
their baskets full of gi-avel, and though exposed
naked to the ni])ping Avind, and shivering with
cold, never ceased to talk and laugh. The la-
bourei-s here earn live shillings a day. They
only remain a few years, and hasten to ]-eturn to
their kraal ^ when they have saved enough to buy a
woman, who becomes their Avife and slave, and is
compelled to work while they lie and smoke upon
the sand.

My friends took me to an exhibition of the fine
arts : the first attempt of its kind. It is a success
inasmuch as it proves an attraction to the ladies
—that is to say, the white ones. Needless to
add, not a man is there. The men are better
occupied. They are slaving in their counting-
houses, or in their shops. To tell the truth, in the
figurative sense and so far as regards work,
these are the only negroes in Africa. But they
will not remain so more than a few yeai-s, and
when this exile is ended they look forward to
the happy goal of ' home,' of ease, perhaps of

' The kraal consists of a number of huts surrounded by an
enclosure. It is a corruption of the Spanish word corral, used
principally in the Spanish-Aiuerican colonies to signify a place where
cattle are penned.

W-

SOUTH AFRICA

[part I.

wealth, and certainly of leisure and indei)endence.
Will these liopes ever be realised ? In tlie first
place, everyone does not make money here. And,
then, is money a zvve pledge of liappiness? Ask
the nouveaux riches vdio live now in Old England,
at Kensington or Brighton, or elsewhere in fine
country-houses, enjoying the riches amassed at the
Antipodes. Most of them have a gnawing desire
to return. They sicken for tlieir late country —
for Africa, Australia, Cliina, or Japan. It is pro-
bably, therefore, an illusion ; but man cannot dis-
pense with illusions. Illusions are false brothers,
but pleasing companions.

In the uj)per part of the town, which is
readied by streets cut in the rock, reminding one
of certain quarters of Stin Francisco, stand the
residences of the well-to-do inhabitants. The
houses dotting the plateau are very pretty, tlie little
gardens admirably kept, and the fresh green lawns
form a delightful anomaly in this plain, all stony
and burnt by a pitiless sun. This marvel is due to
the abundant streams of water which spring from
the mountains some thirty miles away, and are
brought hither by a subterranean aqueduct recently
constructed. This explains also another wonder :
the botanical garden in the midst of the desert.

Farther off is seen the ' location,' the place
reserved for the huts of the natives. We visited

cn.vp. in.] EASTERN PKOVINCES — KAFFRARIA

some of these fomily dwellings, wliicli, save for the
attraction of novelty, did not seem to me agreeal)le.
It is advisable, after having crawled inside, not to
stay there long. Moreover, the stufTy atmosphere
does not invite a long visit. The men are com-
pletely naked; the women are clothed witli a
petticoat, the young girls Avith a cotton apron;
the children follow their fatliers' example. Out-
side the huts we saw some families who Avere
sitting in the sun, and avoiding the cold south
wind. Tlie men were wrapped in their karos, or
woollen blanket dyed with red ochre, which ^^ives
them the name of ' Eed Kaffirs,' a term used to
distinguish them from the civihsed Kaffirs; tliat
is to say, from those who have adopted the short
coat and trousers, or some rags to cover their
nakedness. Clothing of some kind is, however, a
necessity when they wish to go into the town.
The plain surrounding the black location, which
is only a mile from the upper town, was and is
often the scene of bloody quarrels between the
members of different tribes.

I stopped at the club, where the members kindly
offered me their hospitaHty. It is the first institution
of its kind in South Africa. Tlie arrangements are
perfect, and more than one of our fashionable clubs
in Europe would do well to take it as a model. In
the reading-room are found the leadinfy En^rlish

1
'I

SOUTH AFRICA

[part I.

iievvspapors and tlie ' Krdnisclio Zeituno-,' and in all
tlie rooms tliere are men who L'ive you a cordial
welcome, and prove to you by the expression of
their faces, even more tlian by words, that they
are glad to see you.

Augn.st n. — For some years a railway lias
united this town Avith Ciraiiam's Town. I was for-
tunate enouiili to nu'f't at the station the Anglican
bishop of Cai)e Town and his dean. We travelled
therefore together, aTi'"* a lively conversation made
us forget tlie monot<Miy of the country through
which we slowly passed. First comes an immense
veldt. There is not a trace of vegetation ; tlu* grass
is burnt up ; here and there are seen African
aloes, with their orange-red flowers. Undulating
tracts, with low rounded hills, alternate with the
plain. Farther off, bush, scrub, and thorny
thickets, covered with dust, creep along the hol-
lows of the ground. The name of the station,
Sandflat, is well chosen. I fancied mvself in the
Libyan desert.

Our train moves at a slow pace, which permits
a baboon strolling along the track to contem-
plate us at leisure. After satisfying his curiosity
he turns on his heels and retires into the brush-
wood. There are ostriches in plenty. They

cu.Vl'. HI.] KASTERN rUOVINCES — KAMKARIA

stretcli tlit'ir necks above tlie wire of tlieir eii-
elosures aiul look at us witli disdain. I'^xcept at
the stations, we had not seen anv other ;ininuds,
when, to the j/reat surprise of my companion^, wc
eau<«:ht si<ilit of a European on foot, with ]»is wallet
on his back. It is a si^ii of the times, they tell me.
A European never <r()es on foot. An innkcepei-
would hardly take him in. ^loi-eover, it would not
be prudent to follow this bold nnm's example.
There are leopards and elephants alxMit here, whom
it would not be at all ])leasant to meet. M^iv.
Eichard, the Iloman C'atliolic bishop of Grahams
Town, while driving aci'oss the country, was v/arned
of the approach of a ti"oo]) of elephants. The
danger was hnminent, and if the animals had not
taken another direction, neither the bishop nor any
of his companions would have escaped death. The
young elephants in particular are ugly customers
to deal with. They are fond of testing their
' ength by tearing up the rails on the railway.

Towards six o'clock we reached Graham's Town,
108 miles from Port Elizabeth, or seven hours by
train. These railways are of narrow gauge, and
their arrangements are primitive enoiigli. Never-
theless, they are already bringing about a revolu-
tion in the economical condition of the country.

Here I part from Dr. Jones, wdio is going to
visit his flock in Kafifraria, and alijzht at an hotel

SOUTH AI-RICA

[I'ART r.

l\0|)t by a Polo wlio calls liimsclf a Russian. Tlis
i'athor, he tolls mo in confidonco, has boon a bit of
a Nihilist, and so ho has (juickoncd his stops abroad.

'l\ni oi\'s aro noar relations of tho liomanoH's,

])ut on arriving at IJoi-lin, inid to ploaso tho kinjj of
Prussia, lio has gornianisod his name by changing
tho final syllable oj^ into oir. I trust that this noble
liotol-kee])er will succeed in raising the manage-
ment of his hotel to the high level of his birth
and social relations. The atmosphere of brandy,
which poisons the rooms, seemed to me to lack
refinement. In short, I spent tho evening in a
somewhat melancholy manner in the so-called
reading-room, adjoining the bar, which was filled
with a numerous and noisy company.

Graham's Town is inhabited by English and
Dutch and a small number of Germans. Half of
the population speaks tw(3 languages, Dutch and
English. As in all the large towns in the eastern
provinces, the natives occupy a separate quarter,
called the ' location.'

The town lies in a hollow surrounded by hills
destitute of trees, numbers of which, however, are
planted in the streets, in front of the houses, and
in the environs. This wealth of foliage charms the
traveller who has had to cross a desert to come here.

cn\P. III.] EASTERN I'UOVINCES — KAFFRARIA

Orahnnrs Town is like all the En<zliHli towns in the
colony, but it holds the first ])hi('e iinion;^' them in
respect of the number and beauty of its ])ublic
building's, and especially of its handsome churches,
belon^nn;/ to diU'erent denominations, which give an
ecclesiastical character to its appearaiu^e.

My hotel stands in a wide street leadin;^ down
to the valley. You meet here constantly with
bullock wa<rons, those traditional \VM<jons which
have served and still serve the Boers as vehicles, as
houses, and, in case of need, as forts, and which,
with their teams of a dozen, fourteen, or even
ei<j:hteen oxen, have enabled them to open U])
and ccmquer part of the black continent. They
constitute, wherever the railway has not come,
the principal if not the only means of com-
munication with the interior, the Oranj^e Free
State, the Transvaal, Griqualand West, the Dia-
mond-fields, and with tlie country lyin^ beyond
the Limpopo. Each of these vehicles, driven by
men of colour, will carry from five to eight thou-
sand pounds weight, and the loads are often of
very considerable value. Nevertheless, they are
entrusted to the blacks, and no instance is known
of this confidence having been abused. In the
streets there is little animation beyond the noise
caused by the wagons with their enormous
teams. All the morning the men are busy at their

VOL. I. F

SOUTH AFRICA

[PAHT I.

work ; the women stay indoors to avoid tlie sun.
It is only in tlie afternoon that ladies in carria<i;es,
and a few gentlemen on horsebaek, are seen wend-
ing tlieir way to the walks outside the town.

The view enjoyed from the heights command-
ing Graham's Town, a true oasis in the midst
of solitude, is very striking from its wild gran-
deur. All these veldts^ now burnt up and arid,
are carpeted, after the rains, with a bright green.
But at present I see nothing but yellow ochre
and black spots, the bush and the horizon melting
into infinite distance, and above, the vault of a
cloudless sky. Deep silence reigns all round. In
fact, South Africa, if we except the large centres of
population, is simply a desert, dotted, and that still
sparingly, with isolated farms, with very little land
in cultivation, with numerous kraals of savages,
and with some clusters of houses few and far be-
tween, inhabited by Europeans, and dignified with
the name of towns.

The judge. Sir Jacob Barriaby Barry, offered
kindly to devote his time to me during my stay in
his town. The son of an Englisli father and a
Dutch mother, herself born in Africa, he was
called to the bar in Eno^land, and since then has
passed his life in the country of his birth, with
which he is thoroughly fauiiliar. His name has been
connected with important transactions. I have had

CHAr. iir.] EASTERN rROVINCES — KAEFRARIA

tlie advaiita^re of making the acquaintance of
some notabilities of tlie Anglican ecclesiastical
world at Ins house. Tlie reverend gentlemen
and tJieir ladies seemed to have come fresli from
one of the venerable cathedral towns of England.
The illusion was complete. Am I reahv in
Afi-ica ? ^

^Awjiist o.^From Graham's Town to King
William's Town, the chief place of British Kaf-
fraria, is seventy-three miles. The distance is
traversed daily by a diligence, which leaves before
daybreak and readies its destination at nightfalh
But, considering the state of the road, or^atlier
the al)sence of any road at all, to trust oneself to
this vehicle requires not only a plentiful fund of
resignation, but an exceptionally strong constitu-
tion. I therefore hired a carriage, which was to
take me thither in a day and a half; and Mr
Sydney Stent, tlie commissioner of the local
colonial government, under whose special char.re
the roads and highways are phuxxl, oflered to ac-
company me on the way. If the presence of thi.
lunctionary, whose speciality lies in the matter of
roads, could not preserve iis from the abominable
joltings of the carriage, it was because the state of
communication generally is far from perfect. In

V 2

SOUTH AFRICA

[part t.

the colonies, everyone, excepting tlie govenmient
servants, is his own niastci', and no one more so
tlian tlie townsliips, wlio pay no lieed to remarks
f'roni tlie anthorities, especially when tlie reniark
]ueans a loosening of tlie pnrse-strings.

For the first eight miles not a tree is to be seen.
Farther on the horizon expands. Towards the
north and north-east appear the chains of the Cat-
berg and the Winterberg, from 7,000 to 8,000 feet
in height, which just now are Avrapped in shade.
With the transparent biack of the mountains, the
bright yellow of the veldts, and the opal blue of
the lieaven, nature has painted a landscape at once
grand, poetical, savage, and indescribable.

We can see no villages, no isolated houses or
cultivated land, and scarcely any farms, but there
must be some about, judging by the vast enclosures
separated from each other by iron wires along the
road. The meaning of this is, that the ostriches
require ample space to run about, which they
can only do with the assistance of their wings.
'Hierefore those who rear them on a small scale
make a poor business of it as a rule. The
birds break their wings ai^ainst the wires of
small paddocks, causing serious damage to their
feathers. Ostrich-rearing would be very ])ro-
litable if there were fewer risks about it. The
epidemics, which at times occasion great ravages

CHAP. III.] EASTERN PROVINCES — KAFFRARIA

among tlieni, cause enormous losses and often ruin
the farmer. Tlie ostrich is a capi'icious, bad-
tempered, and dangerous animal ; though at in-
tervals docile and ailectionate to those wlio have
care of him, suddenly, and without any reason, he
changes his mood. Hence the precautions taken
in ai)proaching him. I saw in the neighbour-
hood of Cape Town two men leading an enormous
osti-ich. Its head was covci'ed with a hood, and
it was being led by a rope fastened to a sort of
cross-belt. The men kept behind the animal,
whi(;li marched majestically a couple of ])aces
in front of tliem. What makes this bird so for-
midable is its treaclierou.?^ nature, its changeful
humour, and its strong ])ointed and sharp claws.
It always attacks unawares by striking- with its
feet. The other day, one of these animals, with a
single blow, disembowelled a wretched Kaffir.

At ten o'clock we came to Fish River, the eastern
frontier of the old Dutch colony of the Cape. A
recently built bridge affords a passage at all seasons
across this river, sometimes, as now, a simple rivulet,
sometimes a rushing torrent. At this place, called
' Committee's Drift,' we drew up before a solitary
inn, kept by a farmer and his wife. Except the
passengers by the diligence, few white travellers
gladden the eyes of this couple. Tlius most of
their income is derived from tlie drinking-bar.

SOUTH AFRICA

[part r.

besietjed at tliis iViOment by some ])oor KafTirs, who
liave come for a supply of brandy and to make
lliemselves tipsy before retiirning to tlieir kraal.
It is not tlie first time tliat I liave seen such siglits,
as sad as tliey are disgusting.

At ' Breakfast-fly,' another cottfige, standing
by itself in the midst of the desert, and called ' Half-
way House,' invites tlie wayf^xn* to lialt for a few
minutes. The mistress, an En -isliwoman, who has
passed her ninetietli year, i 'elves us witli the
<>rac.e and manners of tlie eighteenth century.
From tliis spot there is a magnificent view of the
mountains of Amatula.

In the afternoon we reach, by an extremely
steep descent, the valley of the Kais na, which
formed tlie frontier of the old colony of British
Kafli-aria, now annexed to Cape Colony. I^otli
banks are covered witli euphorbia, the tree which
gives so exotic a character to this part of Africa.
We crossed witli ease the dried-up channel, and
were now in KafTraria. The district has been
ceded by one of the Cape governors to a chief
of the Gaika tribe, and the present Government,
respecting rights acquired, has recognised the
validity of his title. The country retains the same
character, only there are nothing but kraals and
natives to be seen.

Towards five o'clock we reach our lodoinj^-

CHAP. ITI.] EASTERN PROVINCES — KAFFRARIA 7 1

place for the ni<rlit — a jiroiip of kraals crowniiifr
some liillocl'^ r\ the midst of pasture-lands turned
into dust by six montlis' drouglit. The cattle are
frightfully lean. This place is called Iquipika.
Here, in tJie midst of blacks, lives a white man with
his wife. He is a captain in the colonial army ; he
has smelt f]funpowder in the last Kaffir wars, and
has the manners of a ,irentleman. His wife, the
dauohter of an English soldier, and born in
Kafli-aria, is a tall, stately, handsome pei'son,
who tries to dress like a lady and is evidently
the leading spirit of the household. During the
last war she was forced to take refuge with her
children at King William's Town, then threat-
ened by the Kaffirs. On her return here she
found nothing standing but the walls of their
house. Now, everything is in excellent trim:
there are pieces of furniture from England, chairs
from Vienna, and, along the walls, photographs
prettily framed. And all this among the kraals,
a full day's journey from the town, and with the
prospect, happily very remote, of new wars with
the Kaffi.rs. Others besiu^-- the inhabitants of
Eesinu build their houses, and live and die on a
volcano.

The farmer went with us to one of the ki-aals.
On account of the cold, which is felt keenly after
sunset and the lieat of the day, the men were wrapped

I i

SOUTH AFRICA

[part I.

i\i

in their woollen blankets. The women, to judge
by their dress, seemed less chilly ; and the young
jlirls not at all so. Our host told them that I was
a great chief who owned a host of oxen, sheep, and
wives. It is the number of wives that gives the
measure of the husband's social position. Woman
among these people is not an objet de luxe, as in
the East, but a necessity of life. It is she who does
the work. The man works only when he is abso-
lutely obliged, and it is tliis alone that makes him
go to the towns and serve for some time in the
white men's farms.

Our host's wife launched out strongly against
the Kaffirs. ' They are bad labourers,' she said,
'bad servants,' and — Avhat innnorality! — 'great
consumers of brandy ' — which they buy at her
inn !

Awjust G-9. — The features of the country are
the same as yesterday, but imp/ove as we approach
the mountains of Peri and Amatula.

At three o'clock we are at King William's
Town. Throughout the journey, excepting the
passengers in the diligence and the white nuui on
foot, I have literally not seen a single living crea-
ture but ostriches, baboons, and antelopes.

I am here enjoying tlie hospitality of M. Ru-
dolph Walclier, an Austrian, the head of one (jf
the first houses in this great centre of commerce

CHAP. Iir.] EASTERN PROVINCES KAFFRARIA

til

lU-

'ce

with the Orange Free State, tlie Transvaal, mid tlie
interior of the continent. The a])])earance of King
William's Town has no feature of special interest :
it is a South African town like tlie otliers, in-
habited exclusively b}^ men of business, with
streets either empty or frequented only by blacks
during the day, called into momentary life about
six o'clock, when the counting-houses and slio})s
are closed, and again silent and deserted at night-
time. The town lies in a slight hollow, but the
heights, from which one gets a line view of the
mountains, are bejiinnini; to be embellished with
houses and gardens. There are some fine churches.
That of the Eoman Catholics, built by subscri])-
tions to which Protestants have largely contributed,
is a handsome specimen of Gothic architecture.

The most imposing and conspicuous ediiice in
the town is the hospital, another foundation of Sir
George Grey, of which Dr. Fitzgerald is director.
Some young Kaffirs are being trained there ; the
doctor hopes to employ them as nurses and
chemists. I hope, for the pati( .its' sake, tliat he
will stop at tliat point, and not attempt to make
tliem surgeons.

The warehouses of my host are full of pro-
duce and goods of every kind. Sometimes there
are as many as ten thousand bales of wool
from the Oran<xe Free State and the Transvaal.

SOUTH AFRICA

[part r.

Tills nrivcs ail idea of tlie iinportance of the trade
"vvitli the interior.

I liave liad tlie opportunity, tlianks to M.
Walclier, of making tiie arqnaintance of tlie
leadiii<^' men in this yonn<jf and vigorous town,
wliicli lias, I tliink, a future l)efore it. It seems to
ine tliat liere, more than elsewliei'e, tlie civilised
comes in contact with the savage world. Formerly
the neighbourhood of King William's Town was
the scene of battles fought between the whites
and Kaffirs. At a distance of a few miles around
you find at every step places to which sad or
glorious memories are attached. But they are,
in truth, memories of murders, of ambuscades, of
bloody combats. And these scenes of horror may
be renewed, for it seems that nothing is definitely
settled. re()j)le live in daily uncertainty. And it
is in the midst of, and exposed to all these dangers,
that Anglo-Saxon and German activity, energy,
and spirit of enterprise have created one of the
most important centres of commerce in South
Africa.

In the upper town the long, wide, straight
streets are deserted. Trees hide the houses, which
are built of brick, and surrounded w^ith small gar-
dens. Here and there is seen a black nurse with
babies ; here and there, through an open window^
is heard the sound of a pianoforte. Silence and

CHAP. III.] EASTERN PROVINCES — KAEFRARIA

solitude cvorywlicro. In tlio town proper there
are some ladies making ])urcliases, and some
Kaffirs doinix notliinir at all. We step into a slioj)
where Kaffirs are buvintr their stores. A tall,
handsome black woman attracts my attention.
Madame Walcher asks her if she is a Kinuo. \ou
should have heard her outburst of wrath : ' I''e, I"'e,
Ee ! ' (' No, no ! ') she exclaims, ' Pondo, Pondo.' The
Fin ifoes were once the slaves of the Pondos, till the
English Government set them free. Hence the
Kaffirs' contempt foi' their formei" menials.

Every one of these men of colour whom T meet
inspires me with interest. What is ])assing, I won-
der, in that brain and breast? These are enigmas,
and I fancy tluit those who sjxMid their lives
among tliem could not answer my (piestions. All
that is said on the matter is loose, doubtful, and
often contradictory. 'J'he ])ublic functionaries,
like the magistrates, judge them very favourably.
Most of the merchants and farmers see in the black
the incarnation of evil. I imagine that, putting
aside the missionaries, those who, like the Poman
Catholics, penetrate into the interior, no one has
l)etter means than tlie ma<nstrate of knowing the
coloured world, which to the student of psychology
is still a puzzle.

'J'he magistrates — officials app(^inted and paid
by the Colonial Governnient — form the link

SOUTH AFRICA

[part I.

II '

between tlie Adiniiiistralion and llie savn^'o. In llio
eastern provinees they are nearly all AiVikandei's,
tlie sons of farmers, merchants, and civd fnnc-
tionaries. They are paid from GOO/, to 800/. a

year,

and know the diil'erent Kidlir dialet'ts

wliicli tlieir nnrses have tau^dit them when they
were babies. They reside as much as possil)le
in the small European towns, or in the depths
oi" the bush, in the midst of savaL^es, and there-
fore separated from all contact with Europeans.
I am told that, as a rule, they are very able
men. J3roken in to hard work, inured to the
fatigue of long journeys on hoi'seback or on
foot through the forest or across the steppe,
accustomed to privations, not oidy intelle3tual
and social but often material, they like their
life none the less, and render good service. In
point of fact, they are the rulers of the black
world. I have met some of these remarkable
men, and I sum u]) here the little cross-examina-
tions I put them through. 'We are detectives,'
they tell me, ' and diplomatists. It is our duty
to know, and to report to our minister at Cape
Town, all that goes on among the coloured popu-
lation. In respect to them we exercise, within
certain limits, and according to circumstances, a
paternal authority.' A popular magistrate is fre-
quently asked to interpose as arbitrator in dis-

CHAP. III.] IvVSTERX PROVINCES — KAFFRARIA

putea. If tlie matter is our of more <fcnenil
interest, the nia<fistrate, with a vi.-w t(, ch'ar it up,
be^rins l)y lieariii^r the i)etty chiefs of the kraal, and!
after {luly infonniiiLr liimself, eiideavours to <rain
over to lii.s ojuiiiou the superior chief, thaf"^ is,
tlie cliief of several kraals. In KadVaria pro[)cr,'
thinrrs are otherwise. That is au iiidepcndeut
country,'^ hut yet not eutii'cly withdi-awn from the
influence of the Imperial Government, which, in
consc'iuence of a sort of va,<:ue and ill defined pro-
tectorate, exercises a supervisin<r authority there.
11ie principal chiefs, in concert with the En^dish
Government, have voluntarily adopted certain
laws, as, for exam])le, one i)rohil)itin,i: the sale of
alcoholic liquors, and other re<rulations re]atin<r
to morals. The magistrates scattered over thi's
free countr) have, over and above the duty of
protecting the few traffickers or white farmers,
that of seeing tliat the laws are observed. Their
powers are therefore more limited than ours, and
they cannot, as easily as we can, appeal to the
support of the colonial or Imperial authorities,
which, in f•^ct, do not exist in Kailraria ])roper.'
They are, above, all things, diplomatists. They ad-
dress themselves therefore, when occasion requires,
to the principal chief, and after having disposed'

^ Pondolaiid has since been placed under the British pro-
tectorate. ^

ro%.

IMAGE EVALUATION
TEST TARGET (MT-S)

{./

^.^.

v..

1.0

I.I

lii|2S |25

:!f 124

I
iffli

2.0

L^ i U 116

Photographic

Sciences
Corporation

23 WEST MAIN STREET

WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580

(716) 872-4503

') 1:

SOUTH AFRICA

[part I.

liim in their favour, » they endeavour, in concert
with liim, to act upon tlie petty chiefs. These trans-
actions are not always easy. Tlie Kaffir is a born
pohtician. To every question asked him, witli
a view of estabhshing or verifying a fact, he in-
variably begins by answering with a negative.
They call this " speaking behind a hedge."

I asked if there was no danger of conspiracies,
and I was told not. ' The Kaffirs,' said my friend,
' tliough better gifted than the Hottentot races, are
incapable of forming any combination. It occa-
sionally ha])pens that some chiefs form a plan among
themselves to kill the whites, but it never occurs
to them to combine in the attack. Talkative
by nature, incapable of kee])ing a secret, and even
scorning to keep it, they love to boast belbreliand
of the bad turn they mean to do us. All of us
have blacks in our service, and among them are
servants sincerely attached to their masters. Every
Kaffir knows what passes in his tribe ; we can hope
tlierefore to be warned in good time. Whenever
there is reason to fear tribal hostilities, and that
the magistrate's position might become critical,
one of his servants is sure to whisper in his ear,
" Master, not goody here."

'Among these savages there are laws of Draconic
severity. They have also a perfectly organised
police. Each head of a family feels his personal

i; r

CHAP. III.] EASTERN PROVINCES— -KAFFRARIA

responsibility. He is bound to report wliat lie
sees or hears to the chief of his kraal, the chief of
the kraal to the chief of several kraals, whose duty
it is to inform the head of the tribe. The latter, in
British KafTraria, has to pass the information on' to
the magistrate. If there are no troubles in the air,
he will probably fullil this duty. Not so, however,'
if he meditates an attack. Yet, for his part, he
knows all that passes in the tribe. A man who
in ordinary times failed to report would expose
himself to very heavy punishment, and in time of
war would undoubtedly be killed. During one of
the numerous campaigns, after a very hot action, a
wounded Kaffir, strapped on horseback, was taken
to the ambulance. He had a fractured thigh. Dr.
Atherstone, who happened to be there, took care
of him, treated him for months, and finally had
the satisfaction of seeing him go away cured and
full of gratitude. When the young savage took
leave, his benefactor asked liim, " What'' would
you do if you found me in your kraal, seekincr
refuge in your hut ? " The answer was, " If I were
sure that no one had seen you, I would hide you,
in order to save you ; but if anyone had seen you'
I would kill you. Oh ! I would not let you sufler : I
would strike you to the heart." " But how is that^ "
rejoined the doctor ; « I have done you all this good,
and yet you would kill me ? " " Ah yes," he replied,'

B. It

SOUTH AFRICA

[fart r.

*' because, otlierwise, it is I wlio would be killed, my
duty being to report all that I see to the chief of
the kraal."

' Tlie petty chiefs, to discuss public matters,
meet together in pitso, or assemblies with only a
consultative voice ; the chief's power is absolute.
He can put to death whom lie will, but he would
not venture to turn constantly a deaf ear to remon-
strances framed at the pitson. If he did, he would
certainly be put to death. It is a fundamental
principle of their constitution.'

* How are they disposed,' I asked, ' towards the
whites ? '

' Ask of th'3 wind what quarter it will blow
from to-moirow. They are children, and conse-
quently one cannot depend upon them. There are
some bad symptoms to Avhicli attention should be
called. Thus, for example, one of the chiefs had
killed a magistrate, an extremely rare crime. The
murderer was executed, but since that day the
Kaffirs designate by liis name the tree, so common
here, which we call euphorbia. However, too
much importance must not be attached to such
deeds.'

My curiosity was not wholly satisfied on the
subject of the rehgious notions and practices of the
Kaffirs. Like the Zulus, they seem to have vague
ideas of one or several Supreme Beings, and to

i: !

CHAP. III.] EASTERN PROVINCES — KAFFRARIA

the

igiie

believe in tlie transiniurration of souls. These are
always snakes, who come to visit the huts of their
descendants, Cetewayo is convinced of it ; he
pretends to recognise his uncles and c(Misins in
the venomous reptiles which frequent his palace,
and which he is careful not to kill.

I am assured that the missions in this part of
Afriv.a <xive very unsatisfactory results, and that
the worthy missionaries, in spite of all the per-
severance and enerjjy of their efforts, have often to
record sad backslidinus. It is no rare thing to see
pui)ils, who have scarcely left the excellent Protes-
tant institution at Lovedale, relapse into savagery,
forget, from want of ])ractice, all that they have
been taught, and scoff' at the missionaries. They
think themselves the equals of the whites, and
are distinguished for their insolence. Hence the
alas ! notorious fact that the Europeans are
unwilling to admit Christian Kaffirs into their
service. However, the example set in the towns
to natives by Europeans is not always edifying.
An intelliixent chief said once to a mafristratc:
' Whv should I turn Christian ? Your reli<don
teaches you to love one another. Very well : you
hate each other, and j'ou do each other as nnich
evil as possible. You ouglit not to get drunk, and
yet I see no lack of drunkards among you.' The
chief Kreli, one of the leading personages in
VOL. I. G

SOUTH AfRICA

i.PART I.

KafTraria, said to one of my acquaintances : ' Reli-
j^ion is a good thing for tlie whites, but not for us
blacks. The Christians have quarrelled with tlieir
God. Their God is good ; lie sent them His Son,
and they killed Ilim. Hence the reason why they
look sad, and walk with their heads down, while
we, who have never killed a God, carry our heads

high.'

The environs of King William's Town, and tlie
country between this town and the sea-coast by
East London, are strewn with the farms and plan-
tations of the German immigrants who came here
about thirty years ago at the instance of Sir
George Grey, then Governor of Cape Colony.
This territory was not altogeiher a virgin soil.
Dutch Boers had settled here before the Germans,
but Boers do not like new-comers. As is their
custom in such cases, they left the country. Now,
there is only one Dutch planter remaining between
this town and the sea. The German settlements
form various groups which have been named after
cities in the fatherland, such as Brunswick,
Beilin, &c.

We spent a day in visiting one of these
colonies, situated about ten miles north of the
town at the foot of the Peri hills. The country

1 1

I! f

CHAP. 111.] EASTERN PROVIXCI.S— KAri-RARIA

is of tlie same character as that wliicli I tra-
versed on my way from Graliam's Town. This
^n-aiid aiul savage landscape consists of a maze
of rounded liillocks, covered with shrubs, and
pasture-lands now parched and arid; tlie beautifid
<;reen of the rainy season is replaced by tints of
sepia and yellow ochre. In the recesses of the val-
leys are seen tlie euj)horbia and African aloe, and
above and beside the mountains, tlie niisty, bound-
less horizon of the black continent. Mystery and
solitude form the great charm of these pic'tures,
I)ainted with a few strokes of the brush, and in
only two or three colours, but with what a master
hand !

We passed several kraals and visited some
huts, the neatness of which gave me an agreeable
surprise. The narrowness of ihe door obhged us
to enter on all-fours. The smoke, which only
Kaffir eyes can bear, quickly drove us out aoain.
In one of these habitations we found a blind
Englishwoman, who has enjoyed for many years
the hospitality of her Kaffir friends. From time
to time they take her to King William's Town to
beg alms, the proceeds of which she shares with
her hosts. She is the only beggar I have met in
Africa.

The fiirms about here belong to German colo-
nists. A distance of half a mile, or at most a mile,

o 'J

SOUTH AFRICA

[pAiir I.

i II
1

s('i)arates one from tlie otlior. Collectively, tliey
<'o bv the name of linniswick.

We entered one of these houses, not -witliout
some clifTiculty. We had to knock a Ion<,' wliile at
the door before an old woman came to open it. A
native of Starjj^ard, dressed like a German j^easant,
slie spoke the purest Pomeranian. After having
droj)j)ed some tears to the memory of her husband,
wliom she had just lost, she told us the simple
story of her life, wliich is, more or less, the history
of every planter in Kafl'raria. They come here
Avitli a slender stock of money. They meet witli
the lioers, who, ever in quest of solitude, sell them
tlieir farm at a low price and <io away. Tlie new
German owner sets to work and prospers. A war
comes on with the KafTirs. The father of tlie
family and his i^rown-up sons take their guns and
join the colonial troops, the wife flies with the
youniier children. The Kaffirs come and kill or
steal their cattle, but, more scrupulous than the
local mihtia, respect the houses. That of our
Pomeranian was extremely neat and well furnished.
Although the widow is a Protestant — a fervent
Lutheran — she has embellished the walls of her
room with coloured prints representing saints,
male and female, which are hawked about in the
colony by Italian pedlars.

CHAP. III.] EASTERN PROVINCKS — KAFFRARIA

jand,
mplc
stiiry
liere
with
them
! new
L war
f the

and
tlie

1 or
tlie

our

hed.

vent
her

ints,

: tlie

The teU^jxra])li summons me to East Lonihm.
Tlic bar is lit for crossing, the steamer from Cape
Town to Natal is signalled. I am oft' then ; oil"
from my amiable hosts and this essentially Austrian
home.

A railway, forty-two miles in length, comiects
this town with East London, which would have a
great future if it were not for the very bad bar.
The country through which I am passing is more
or less a desert, and the town, although it calls
itself the London of the East, has few attrac-
tions. I am seeing it, it is true, under unfavourable
circumstances. The rain is pouring in torrents,
the wind blowing great guns, and, alas! not only
is the bar not practicable, but the packet, having
lost patience, has continued its course to Durban.
The southern coast of Africa is the one most feared
by sailors, its harbour-bars bear the worst reputa-
tion, and the most dangerous of them all is that of
East London. It is therefore peculiarly dear to
certain shipowners who, with the aid of skilful
captains, possess the art of wreckhig their vessels,
which are of small value, but heavily insured.

I am cooped up, then, in an inn which, for
charity's sake, I abstain from describing. I shai'e
it with a numerous and noisy company, composed
of miners, who, after the privations and labours of

SOUTH AFRICA

[part r.

II'

tlie ' placers,'*'' are aimisinfj tlKMiisclvos after tlicir
inaimcr. What indefatigal^le noisc-iiuikers ! Wliat
an al)oinii)a))lc uproar ! For three days I endured
this torment. ' Clieer up, old tourist, cheer up,'
I say to myself. At leu^^'tli the ' Nubia ' a])pears
in tiie roadstead, and, route que atnte^ I will risk
crossnig the bar. And I have crossed it. It was
a most unpleasant ten minutes, but, thank Heaven,
I am now on board the steamer. They have had
to hoist us up in a basket. Tliis kind of Io"omo-
tion has its charms ; it reminds one of the oscilla-
tions of a pendulum, and jiives one, at the same
time, the feeling of a balloon ascent.

Alas! another hitch. The 'Nubia' has to
shi]) a cargo of merchandise, and the ligliters
cannot cross the bar. One of them, seeking to
make the attempt after we had passed it, lias only
just missed foundering, and has lost a man over-
board. Three more daj's of lying to ! ]3ut,atany
rate, instead of my reeking public-house, I am
on board a fme large steamer, with scarcely any
passengers, and with an excellent captain, who
has been u]) the Zambesi liiver as far as the
Victoria Falls, and, the hardest feat of all, has
returned alive, while all his companions have left
their bones there.

^ The name given to gold-workings, i.e. the aUuvial deposits
as distinguished from the ' veins.'

. 1

CHAP. III.] EASTERN PROVINCES — KAFFRARIA 87

At last the *Xu])iu' lias loaded, and is on her
way. She coasts alonj; Kafl'raria, past Finj^oland
lirst, and then rondoiand. We see rocks, often
flat-topped like an interminable series of Table
Mountains, bare veldts alternating with dense forests
— the whole lit up with splendid sunshine ! We
pass close to the mouth of St. John's Kiver. Here,
in the midst of the Tondos, is an En«rlish settle-
ment. One of the members of this factory tells
me ' there are about sixty of us Europeans, and
we believe we are perfectly secure amidst the
blacks. The day jroes l)y quickly enou<jh in our
countinfj-houses. In the evening, after our work is
over, we enjoy ourselves, aiid have theatricals. A
steamer brings us the post from Durban now and
then, together with su])plies and the goods which
we sell to the natives.' This small territory was
bought from the chief of the Pondos by Sir Jkrtle
Frere for 4,0()()/. They tell me it bids fair to
become the headquarters of trade with the interior
of Kafl'raria.

Among the five or six passengers, who are lost
in the steamer's immense saloon, are a couple who
attract my notice. The gentleman may be between
forty and fifty years of age ; his expression is grave,
his complexion pale : his look vague, dreamy, and

ir~"

'\ !

, >

) h

Is :

SOUTH AFRICA

[part 1.

intcllij/cnt ; lie is llat-(;lio.stL'(l, luirrow-sliouldert'd,
and thin ; his luiir is dishevelled and his attire
slovenly. When sitting; down he is fond of pnt-
tiiiif his feet on the table and crossini^ his arms
behind the naj)e of his neck. Jiefore he opens
his mouth I reeoj^nise in him an American and a
mesmerist. His companion unites in her j^^entle,
sad, and listless expression all that characterises
the female medium. I \ou\i to make their acquaint-
ance, lint how to set about it i^ Well, I will foUow
the example of their countrymen from the 'Far
West ' who have sought to nud<e mine. I therefore
go straight up to the gentleman, and ask him
the following questions : ' Who are you ? Where
do you come from? Where are you thinking
of going to? What is your object in travelling?'
The stranger, without showing the least surprise
at my bruscpie curiosity, replies : ' I am a professor.
I am an exposer, oi', if you will, a denouncer of
spiritualism. I am a mesmerist. I give .seances,
and I am a thought-reader. I was born on the
banks of the Mississippi, and I nuide my entrance
into public life as a drunnner. That was during
the War of Secession. Thanks to good luck'
(this was said with a certain modesty) ' I was able,
by beating my drum vigorously, to save a flag
which had fallen into the enemy's hands. To
reward me, the Government sent me into the secret
service.' ' What, then,' I put in, ' were you a spy ? '

& c

CHAP. III.] EASTERN rUOVIN'CES — KAFKRARIA

•lllg

flag

icret

' Well, yos,' he replied ; ' but I aeted to the advaii-
tatre of botli armies.' * How so ? ' I exchiiined ; ' did
you report to eacli camp what you liad witnessed in
tl»e otlierP' 'No, no,' lie answered, re(hlening a
bit, but with composure ; ' listen, and don't interrupt
me. I was very well paid, lor all this time I was
risking my life. I had constantly to cross botli
lines. I made use of these goings to and fro to
purchase at New York some articles specially
wanted by the Confederates, among others, qui-
nine. I })aid for it twelve dollars, })aper money,
j)er ounce, and sold it to the Confederates at the
rate of a liundred and twenty dollars in gold. You
see I served not only botli parties, but humanity,
inasmuch as in the enemy's army the stock of
quinine was exhausted and could not be replenished.
Thanks to me, many lives were saved. The end of
the war found me in possession of a handsome
fortune, wliicli I quickly increased by plunging
into the wildest speculations. Like every American
who has money in his pocket I went to Europe.
In England I made the acquaintance of a band of
spiritualists, and I became an adept in this fraternity.
But I was not long in detecting their nnpostures.
I saw well that the spirits of dead people care
little about our affairs, and disdain to meddle in
them. On returning to America, where there are
millions of victims to this superstition, I decided to
open their eyes. I hired the Grand Theatre at

r^l8?1

SOUTH AFRICA

[part I.

\ ' : i

'(I I

New Orleans for a .soiree, where I exposed all tlie
liiimbug of tlie spiritualists. 1 flattered myself that,
in doing so, I sliould earn a title to my fellow-
citizens' gratitude. The very contrary was the
case. I became an object of liatred and persecu-
tion. I was hooted and spit upon. The news-
papers fell upon me and loaded me with abuse.
At length I lost patience, and took my own turn at
tliis kind of fisticuffs. Meanwhile, in consequence
of my ridiculous speculations, I had lost all the
fruits of my former lucrative trailic. I found my-
self without a fartiiing, and I became a professor.
I chose tliis line, to unmask the spiritualists and
at the same time to make money. They call me
here a conjurer. I am not one at all. I do a few
tricks, indeed, as, for instance, tlie manacle trick,
but til at is simply because I am able to do by means
of skill what the spiritualists pretend to do by
supernatural means. I have gone the round, witli
great success, through Australia and New Zealand,
and I am now on my tour in Africa. I have still
Mauritius, India, and Mexico to " do." I shall go
back to my country a rich man, but I shall have
failed in the object of mj^ life, which is to put an
end to a colossal imposture. For, believe me, it is
easier to perform tricks, however astonishing, than
to make a fool understand that he is the dupe of a

rogue.

-;?

I p I

CHAPTER IV

XATAL.

August 1') to August 20.

Durban— Cultivcation of tlie siigfir-cano— The labourers— Af?encv at
l)elaf,'oa Bay— The Zuhis— rietermaritzburg— A Zuhi "chief at
home— Political survey.

Ai((fmt 15. — Landing tliis morning at Durban,
I seemed to be in a dream. I have left South
Africa, and am now in the tropics. Tlie ilhision
is complete Banyans with tlieir gnarled trunks,
and branches twisted and interlaced, dai-k-leaved
mangroves, enormous bananas, clumj)s uf giant

bamboos, with foliage quivering in the tepid air

all these wonders are due to a warm current which
starts from the equator, and also to tlie circum-
stance, of mucli importance from a climatic point
of view, that Natal is situated on the eastern side
of the continent.

Durban is composed of two small towns, the
upper and the lower, connected by a tramway. The
lower town is situated on tlie shore, and looks like
some small port on the Thames or the Clyde.

'.H

lii

SOUTH AFRICA

[part t.

Nothinjiis to be seen here but sailors and warehouses.
The upper town occupies a low hill at the end of
the bay. From its straight and inordinately wide
streets it reminds one of America more than Eni*;-
land. In this respect it differs from Graham's
Town, Port Elizabeth, King William's Town, and
East London, which are essentially English in their
character, while in the western provinces of the
colony the Dutch type is so evident, and so evi-
dently indehble. In the streets of Durban, where
trees abound, small houses are seen, having one,
or at most, two stories ; churches of difl^erent
denominations ; handsome shops, especially in
Main Street, and small, well-kept gardens ; in short,
a medley of bricks and foliage, stones and corru-
gated iron, which, if deprived of the beauties of
sky and vegetation, would be neither poetical nor
picturesque. On the other hand, the people met
with in the streets deserve, by their appearance,
both these epithets. Here are Kaffirs, whose
dress consists of a sheepskin apron and a military
tunic more or less in tatters, the cast-off uniform
of some English soldier. Here are Zulus in crowds.
What fine bronzed figures, shining in the sun, and
what good countenances ; what frank laughter, and
how they look you full in the face, always with an
expression of good-humour ! They seem to bid you
welc' me. The young girls are distinguished for the

CHAP. IV.]

NATAL

classical outline of the head and neck and shoulders.
TJiere are otlier savages or half savages besides
these; natives brouglit as domestic servants or
labourers from the mouths of the Zambesi and the
neiglibouring territory of Delagoa Bay. But in all
this motley crowd tlie Malays strike me the most.
These coolies belong to a very low class, but how
their fine and regular profile contrasts with the
coarse features of tlie Zulus ! Tlie su]>eriority of
the race is evident at a glance. The Hindoo women
are clothed very neatly in their briglit-coloured
robes and shawls. They are most fond of white
and crimson, and these colours match well with tlie
pale oHve of their complexions. Circlets of silver
or bronze upon their feet, lieavy bracelets, earrings,
and rings on their fingers and toes, complete"^ a
costume the general effect of which seems to me
beautiful, harmonious, and, except for the ornament
on the nose, almost classical.

The ground where Durban now stands was,
forty years ago, the haunt of elephants. Less
thai, twenty years ago lions used sometimes to
visit it. The extension of cultivation has well-
nigh, but not quite, driven these ferocious animals
away.

West of the town a chain of thickly wooded
hills, called Berea, strikes tlie eye. The cottaires
you see, each surrounded by ^ omall garden, are tlie

SOUTH AFRICA

[pari I.

1 1

T: 1

residences of the business men of Durban. At sun-
pet the pretty road wliich leads to them is alive
with horsemen and carriages. Tlie counting-houses
are closed, and everyone hastens back to the quiet
and delights of the family hearth. But this pretty
road stops short at the edge of a virgin forest, to
this day the domain of leopards, antelopes, and
baboons, to say nothing of snakes, which form,
together with the Zulu spectre, the scourge of tlie
colony. What neighbours, and what a contrast !
Is it not a striking picture of the life of the Afri-
kander, who, himself a pioneer of civilisation, is
born, lives, and dies on the confines of the savage
world ?

As for snakes, the less said the better. They
are the bugbear of the colonist on his arrival,
but he soon sets accustomed to this standin<j dan-
ger. They belong to the most venomous kinds :
their bite usually means death in a quarter of an
hour. M. Dumas, the manaj]fer of the sucrar-mills
at Edgecomb, some twenty miles from Durban,
told me of one of his coolies who was bitten in the
leg. By dint of extreme care his life was pro-
longed for three days, but he lingered in horrible
agony. The autopsy revealed a perfect gangrene
of the flesh about the bitten part. These reptiles
penetrate into the houses. M. Dumas, on waking
one morning, found beside him a snake which had

I i !

[ t

' 4 ■

CHAP. IV.]

NATAL

spent tlie nicrht on liis pillow! It is astonisliin<r
how rare are the cases of biting, which, when they
occur, nearly always, as I have said, prove fatal.
This seems tlie more remarkable, if we consider the
number of these reptiles and the carelessness of
the natives, who work more or less naked in the
fields and in the brushwood. IIapi)ily the snake
only bites when he is touched, and, as a rule, he
avoids m-mkind. Some there are, however, wj)]- '.,
when basking on the patli, do not stir at the a,. •
proach of human footsteps. These are the species
most to be feared.

The sugar-mill I have spoken of belongs to a
French company, and is managed by a Frenchman.
It is still in an experimental stage. The Mozambique
current brings, it is true, the needful warmth of
temperature, but it does not always bring the quan-
tity of rain which the sugar-cane requires, and
which never foils it in the tropics. During the last
few years the rainfall has been exceptionally large,
but there are also years of absolute drought.'
Will the cane endure this? That is the whole
question. A few steps from the mills stands the
manager's house. Madame Dumas, who preserves
her ladylike demeanour in the midst of canes,
Hindoo workmen, and snakes, which make her

SOUTH AFRICA

[part I.

■li ;

tremble for lier children, gives us a cordial wel-
come. What torments her even more than the
fear of reptiles is the servants. I hear this com-
plaint wherever I go in the colonies. I seldom
sit at dinner next to the lady of the house without
her telling me of this nuisance, which, more than
exile, more than the privations and dangers in-
se])arable from a ])lanter's life, embitters her exist-
ence. ' For a whole week,' Madame Dunuis said to
me, ' I have been without servants. They left me
all at once, and here I am obliged to do all the
housework with my own hands.' The coolies
and Kaffirs, the only men in reality who can
dig and plough the earth under a sky that makes
numual labour im])ossible for the whites, are
well aware that the European cannot do without
them. They are hired also as domestic servants,
usually for a term fixed beforehand. When
that term is up they invariably leave — nearly
always without any reason assigned — and nothing
stops them. If not engaged for a term of years,
they seldom renuiin more than a month. The
Austrian consul has already reached his eleventh
Kaffir servant in the course of this year — he calls
him 'Eleven.' In Cape Colony the natives pick up
a little English. Here the mistresses have to learn
the language of their servants, and so all of them
know more or less Hindustani or the Kaffir ver-

1 1

cnAP. IV.]

NATAL

naoi.lar. The wliite female servants no sooner land
than they feel themselves the equals of their masters
become insolent, <rrow ashaiied of service, look out
for other employment, and end by ^rottini^^ married.
In a few years they have reached the same level as
their former masters, and join with them in the
chorus of complaint over this pla-ue of colonial
life.

There are two clubs at Durban, both admi-
rably appointed. The n.mber of official and other
personaov. ,vhom 1 have met there, and the nuni-
hev of iumd- shakings I have had, are prodicrious
l^.veryone seems jileased to welcome a strancrcM-
and everyone said to me-what I saw well
enough was no mere figure of speech—' Can I
be of service to you ? ' And they did, indeed
prove ot service. I asked them questions, and
they answered me. It was like an open book
whose leaves spoke eloquently to the reader'
And, strange to say, here, as everywhere in the
colonies, the officials, farmers, and merchants
—in short, all the white population— talk of
scarcely anything but the affiiirs of tlie colony
of the blacks, the coohes, the state of the market'
the ostriches, the sugar-cane, and the drou^dit'
which, just now, is making horrible rava^cres
among the cattle: rarely of their native countrv

VOL. L

i >■

is''

SOUTH AFRICA

[part r.

Old England. They are very loyal, but the veil
of distance and of separation from their friends
and relations beyond sea hides their mother-
country from their ken. Cetewayo engrosses
more of their thoughts and conversation than does
Queen Victoria herself.

Here also, as in KafTraria, the official person-
ages who have spent part of their lives amidst the
blacks judge tliem favourabl}', while most of the
merchants and farmers detest them. And what
stories they relate ! I will only repeat one of
them.

The wife of a planter, settled in the neighbour-
hood of Durban, across the river Umgeni, is in
the habit of sending her native servant once a week
to the town to procure supplies of fresh meat. The
Kaffir makes use of the opportunity to buy at a
cheap rate those portions of the animal winch
Europeans refuse to eat. This time it was a
bullock's head. On his return, while fording the
Umgeni, his son, a young boy who was with him,
was seized by a crocodile. ' Father,' cried the
little fellow, 'throw him the meat, and he will let
go of me.' But the Kaffir preferred the bullock's
head to his son, who was accordingly devoured by
the monster. All those who were present vouched
for the literal truth of this fact. How could one
help believing it ? But an official assured me

1 1'

en A p. IV.]

NATAL

that tliere was not a word of truth in tlie story.
How not believe him ! And so on. I am lost
in bewilderment.

In this part of Africa tlie black population
shows a notable increase in proportion to the
whites. The fact is proved l)y the tax on the
huts, the exact number of which is known.
Eveiy liut is supposed to (Contain an avera<re of
rather less than four and a half inmates. \his
increase is explained by the vigorous and prolific
constitution of the race, and by the practice of
polygamy. The husband inhabits a hut with his
chief wife, and gives to each of the inferior ones
a cabin and some fields, either for cultivation or
pasturage. The gift once made, he cannot dispose
any further of the fields without the consent of the
wiie in question. After her death, her cabin and
bit of land pass to her eldest son. The wives are
said to be the slaves of their husbands. To a
certain extent, this is true in other parts of Africa
But here, among the Zulus, they exercise crreat
influence in the family, are well treated, work
hard certainly, but not so hard as the wife of an
English labourer. They are, after their manner
well clothed, well fed, and seeminglv content. In'
a word, the Zulus are a light-hearted, happy
people; they ask only to be left in peace, and are
aflectionate so long as they are treated well.

H 2

100

SOUTH AFKICA

[tabt r.

' I

•I

( i

r '

!■,

I;!

Tlie prece(lin<r accoimt was jjfiven ine by an
Enr,'lisli nia<;istrate, who lias served in Znluland
since 1852. More tlian tliirty years passed in tlie
midst of savages ! And yet with notliing lost of
the demeanour, the language, the maimers, the
hearinjjf of the thorouijh gentleman. I have dined
with him at the club, and I admired the neatness
of his spotless necktie and the orthodox cut
of his black coat. I fancied myself at the
Travellers'! There are choice natures which
nothing can injure, like the ermine which goes
through mud without soiling his beautiful
coat.

The following statement was made to me by
another gentleman who is familiar with men and
alTairs in Natal, wdiere he was born, and where he
holds a high oflicial position : ' The Zulus,' he says,
' are easy people to manage. They respect the law,
and submit, without complaint and without a
grudge, to the punishments inflicted by the judge,
provided they can be made to understand that they
are in the wrong ; if not, they never forget nor
forgive, when once, in their belief, they have been
the victims of an unjust sentence.'

They believe in a Supreme Being, and do not
worship idols. It is supposed that, at a very re-
mote period, they adopted the Mosaic hiw (?). A
certain usage, wliich is met with also in Kafl'raria,

' 'I

CHAP. IV.]

NATAL

101

tllCSS

cut

tlic

liich

not

re-

.scciiis to luivo given rise to this supposition. I
sIiouUl Ix' iiu'iined to think that they liave borrowed
it from the ^lussuhnans. It is known that anioniLj
the tribes of Centi'al Africa tl»e Koran nnikes
numerous converts. They are su|)erstitious, and
beheve in tlie transmi«.n'ation of souls. The snakes
which penetnite into tlieir huts are, accordin<i to
tlicir creed, the spirits of tlieir dead rehations wlio
liave come to visit tliem. They never kill them
unless the witch-doctor declares them to be in-
truders, and not members of the family.

Speaking generally, tiiey are a people satisfied
with their condition, and of imperturbable good
humour. They till the ground just enough to
])rovide for their very modest wants. They culti-
vate especially maize, for the purpose of brewing
theKadir beer, which forms the staple of nourish-
ment for the chiefs ; hence their obesity. They
have an attachment for the English Government,
or rather for their agents, if only the latter know
how to take them — a matter which requires a light
but firm hand. It might be said of them that they
combine the simplicity ox^ the child with the wili-
iiess of the savage.

An accurate census of the population is impos-
sible. It would reawaken suspicions and prov(jke
troubles. A kraal often contains only three or
four huts. But in some of them there are several

1 02

SOUTH AFRICA

[part I.

■| '

i I

hundred cahiiis. Some great cliiofs possess as many
as lour hundred kraals.

1 was glad to meet here a young Ik'lgian
whose acquaintance! had made on board a steamer.
He was on his way hack to Tiorcnzo-Marquez, in
Delagoa Hay, where he was acting as agent of the
colonial governments of the Ca])e and Natal for the
inunigration of native labourers.

Lorenzo- Mar(|uez, Tnlnunbane, Quilimanc, and
Mozambi(iue, small Portuguese towns, would have,
ill his opinion, a future, if the Government did
not leave them to their own resources, which are
hil. The territory they occupy has never been
ceded to the Portuguese. Some native chiefs look
upon it as their own. All the factories are built
either on tonjjfues of land stretching; out, like Lo-
I'enzo, into the sea, or, like Mozambique, (m small
islands.

Delagoa Bay has the advantage of being the
nearest port to the Transvaal, and the natural out-
let of this republic to the sea. Thus the Boers, in
spite of their dread of the fevers which infest the
coast, sent thitlier some thirty wagons last year
to purchase supplies and necessaries of life. It
was their first experiment. Formerly, such expe-
ditions would have been impossible, on account
of the tsetse. This fearful insect kills the draught
bullocks ; but, since the herds of antelopes have

ive

CUAP. IV.]

NATAL

103

pone nortlnvard, tlie tsetse, ever in pnrsuit of tlicni,
lias diMai)])eare(l from the wilds that se])arate the
district of Leydenhur«,di from tiie sea. This cnter-
])rise of the lioers has not yielded any<;reat results,
owinp to the scanty stock of merchandise they
found in the warehouses at Lorenzo-^Iarquez. Ikit
it is a first step towards realising the ])roject,
first conceived by the President of the Transvaal,
and discussed for years with the Portuguese Govern-
ment, of connecting Delagoa liay by means of a
railway with the South African republic.

At Lorenzo-Marquez, the life of the Europeans,
who are about fifteen in number, including the
Portuguese men and two white women, is not of an
enviable description. The climate is extremely
unhealthy, One gets up at five o'clock and goes
to bed with the fowls. As at Inhand)ane and
Quilimane, fresh meat is only procurable in the
winter. The European residents then club together
to buy an ox. The rest of the time they five on
pi ^served meats and poultry. The rare and irre-
gular visits of the mail-steamer are quite an event.
Everyone m turn entertains the captain, and the
supplies — hams, wine, and preserves — which he
has brought with him, are eagerly seized upon. The
profits of the residents are but moderate. They
risk health and life, not to make a fortune, but
to exist. The clerks in the two French houses

I04

SOUTH AFRICA

[pari r.

i , ;i

I I

i' :i

established there receive a salary of about two thou-
sand francs. Formerly, the Portuguese functionaries
and employes used to take advantage of tlieir
official position to make money ; but, for the last
ten years or so, the tone of the public service has
chanfjed for the better, and the jjfovernors study
local interests. In this respect there is an evident
im])rovement.

Since the discovery of the diamond-fields in
Griqualand West, and tlie gold mines in tlie Trans-
vaal, the immigration of blacks into tlie two Eng-
lish colonies and the South African republic has
assumed large proportions. It is managed at the
joint expense of a company and of tlie two colonial
governments, which supply the necessary means of
transport, provisions for the journey, and means for
the return of the labourers to their own country at
the end of their enfjajjement.

The mode of })roceeding is as follows : The
agent at Lorenzo-Marquez sends messengers to the
idunas^ or secretaries of the tribal chiefs, small or
great, offering them gifts, and asking for labourers.
Generally, leave to emigrate for a fixed term is
given to a certain number of young men. The
recruits are sent to Lorenzo-Marquez, and lodged
in sheds close by the agent's residence. After
having discussed and settled the terms of hire, the
agent takes his men, ten at a time, to the Portuguese

CHAP. IV.]

NATAL

105

governor, before wlioni tliey bind tlicmselves
definitely to work in sucli and such a place for two
or three years. Their consent is really and en-
tirely voluntary, and cases of breach of en«ra<re-
ment, except when the men are recalled by their
chief, are extremely rare.

These savages invariably take back tl.eir
earnings, a fact whicli explains wliy English !>ove-
reigns are found far in the interior of the continent.
Their principal aim is to get enough to buy one
or more women. Tliey make these their wives,
whose duty it becomes to work in their fields.'
The price of women, and tlie probable negotiations,
form an inexhaustible topic of conversation amon<r
the blacks.

Umzila, the great chief of the tribes inhabiting
the banks of the Limpopo, is the principal poten°
tate of tliese regions. He, Uke the otJier chiefs,
greedy for news, sends messengers to the white
settlements, and as far even as Dur])an, char^red
to learn, and report by word of mouth, on their
return, the rumour and gossip of tlie day.

The most warlike race is tliat of the Zulus.
They refuse to eat lish, and pronounce poultry to
be woman's food. There are some tribes suspected
of cannibalism. To be a magician, they sa^' a
man must have tasted his kind. But anyone wJio
passes for a cannibal is looked upon as a danr^er-

io6

SOUTH AFRICA

[fart I.

'■ i I

i •
I ji

ous man, on tlie score of his seeking to acquire
a siiperlumian power. They often kill him with-
out more ado.

Tlie tribal chiefs allow only a limited number
of their subjects to emigrate, and that only for
two or three years, because the frequent wars
of succession and others oblige them to keep
some warriors always at hand. When peace is
threatened, they send one of their idimtw either
to the Cape or to Natal, to command their sub-
jects to return. The latter leave one by one, or
in small detachments, and after a few days the
owner of the plantation finds himself without a
single labourer.

This is one of the reasons why preference
is given to coolies, who engage themselves for ten
years at a time, and are the best labourers of any.
When a planter in Natal is in want of hands, he
applies to the Colonial Government, stating exactly
the number required. The Government, through
the medium of its agent in India, imports, if possible,
the labourers necessary, and distributes them among
the planters. They are obliged to engage some
women also — about forty for every hundred
males — who manage always to marry coolies.
These Indians, recruited at Calcutta and in the
Madras Presidency, are paid by the month. The
planters run a certain risk, since, among the men

lie

CHAP. IV.]

NATAL

107

wlioin tliey liavc to take from tlie Government,
there are always some who are sick or lazy. To
obviate this inconvenience, payment by the job has
been introduced during the last two years ; in other
words, each labourer is assigned a certain daily
task. In performing it, he gives tlie amount of
work represented by his wages. If he is a good
workman, he will have finished it by midday, and
will have some hours to spare for looking after his
own allotment ; for the coolie, in addition to his
wages and the food—consisting of rice, maize, fish,
and fat— furnished by the planter, receives also
a small j)iece of ground which he can cultivate, and
the produce of which belongs to him. The idle
ones take all the day to get through their task.
In Natal, most of the coolies, when their ten years'
engagement is over, remain in the country, pur-
chase small holdings with their savings, and take
to agriculture, fishing, or trade. It is. from these
that the coolie labourers buy their provisions.
Hence the growing opposition of the petty traders
in Natal to the introduction of Indians, whose
competition they dread.

But, on the other hand, the sugar-planters
cannot do without coolies, because the latter, less
indolent than the blacks, who, moreover, are some-
times recalled by their chiefs before their terms are
expired, work regularly, and are too far awav

It 1/

! '

108

SOUTH AFRICA

[part I.

from their native country to be able to think of
breakiniic tlieir en£;a<jfement.s. Of late years the
recruiting of Indians has become more and more
difficult, from tlieir preferring to emigrate to otlier
places nearer India, as, for example, Mauritius and
Singapore. Emigration to countries outside the
British Empire is strictly forbidden.

Small as the town is, and few whites as it con-
tains, Durban nevertheless has a society. Mrs.
Baynton is one of the goddesses of this Olympus.
She is a lady of real distinction, who has a large
number of friends in the two colonies.^ The house
of Captain Baynton, her husband, is the centre of
refined life in Natal, and the harbour of refuge of
the few travellers of mark who visit this secluded
corner of the world. Prince Louis Napoleon and
the Empress Eugenie partook of his hospitality.

The cai)tain made me a present of a handsome
shield and some assecfais, not those which are
manuf:ictured in England and sent to the Zulus (!),
but made by the natives themselves. They can be
recognised by the firm way in wliich the iion point
is fastened to the lance by means of a thong of
cowhide.

' She died, generally regretted, a few months after my departure.

CHAP, IV.]

NATAL

109

The distance from Durban to Pietermaritzbnrir
is fifty miles by the carriage-road and seventy by
the railway.

The country through which we pass, a charm-
ing maze of wooded hills, displays all the wealth
of tro])ical vegetation. Here and tliere are signs
of cultivation, and country-houses planted among
clusters of band)oos, intertwined with branches of
leafless shrubs, festooned with large scarlet flowers.
After leaving Northdean station the trees be-
come rare, the veliHs and the bush take the place
of the banyan, the big euphorbias, and the bamboo.
But PinetoAvn is still a ];retty place. I met here
the Protestant missionary Posselt. He has been
in this country for thirty-five years, and conducts
the important mission of ' New Germany.' We
had a glin^pse of the houses. It is an entirely
German colony. The farmers are doing well ; the
small shoi)keepers are succumbing to the compe-
tition of the Indian traffickers, who live on three-
pence a day, and are content with a minimum of
profit. A little distance from New Germany the
Trappists have just founded a settlement. Tliirty-
four brothers and sisters are now on their way to
join them. In this community also the German
element predominates.

Beyond Pinetown the country is similar to
what I saw in Kaflraria, desolate, undulatin^r, and

(■ w

SOUTH AFRICA

[part I.

with occasional views of the high mountains. One
of tliese, Table Mountain, overtops all the rest.
We never lose sight of it. The railway wincL round
it, and, seen from Pietermaritzburg, that is, from
tlie nortli, it presents absolutely the same outline.
Here bej^ins the first staff e of the ascen* lead in j^
to the high plateau of South Africa. The railway
does not seem to me to answer its purpose. T ask
mvself how enj^ineers could have been found bold
enough to trace tliese curves, to say nothing of
viaducts poised on slender iron columns threatening
every minute to topple down, and shaking beneath
the weight of the engine, which, frightened like the
passengers and the guards, ventures only to creep
slowly along. To avoid unpleasant feelings, I give
myself up to contemplating the scenery. I dare
not plunge into the abyss, which we are crossing
at a prodigious height. I look up at the moun-
tains, with their infinite shades of grey ; at hills,
which are pink, I know not why, for it is high
noon ; at enormous slopes, of allow or bistre,
thickly strewn with blocks of granite. Then, sum-
moning up all my courage, I scan the gaping
deptlis on the riglC and left of the viaduct. At
the bottom I see black spots, the busli ; spots of
green, being fields in cultivation ; spots of white,
the houses of the planters.

At one of the stations, in the sliade formed by

^ 1

CDAP. IV.]

NATAL

III

some stunted trees, powdered over witli dust and
sand, I spied a picturesque group of Zulus. They
were quite naked, with the exception of the cotton
apron. This is a concession they make to Europeans
when tliey meet them. To judge from the feather
above tlieir heads, which are encircled with a ring
of bronze, they were gentlemen. One of them, evi^
dently a dandy, carried in his hand a shield of hide,
wliich I bought for sixpence. His handsome eyes
sparkled with delight at the sight of the little silver
coin. Beside him stood a young girl. The lower
part of her breast was covered. ' The upper part,
as also her neck, arms, shoulders, and her back
as far as the waist, were bare. What a beauti-
ful picture! Two old womor_old in appear-
ance, but not in reality— made a striking con-
trast. Each of them had nothing but a pc^tticoat
on. The other men, less elegant tlian this dandy,
had the manly, frank, and good-humoured expres-
sion which is peculiar to the most warlike
people of South Africa. All of them seemed
par-ticularly clean in their person.

Near the station of Xew-Leads, the soft green
of some small oases scattered in the folds of
the mountains was a rest to the eye. Maize is
grown there, and potatoes, but no wheat. A little
i^irther begins the tall grass, which is not seen
along the sea-board, but which covers the steppes

l> i

ii I

I V' i

> .: II

112

SOUTH AFRICA

[part I.

and boundloss prairies of tic Orange Free State
and tlie Transvaal.

We liad left Durban at eight o clock in the
morning, and at two o'clock in the afternoon the
train entered rietermaritzbnrir station. Tlie Gover-
nor,Sir Henry Bulwer, received me at Government
House, which stands a few steps from the camp and
the railway station. This is convenient and prac-
tical. In a country where thirty thousand v/hites
share the soil with four hundred thousand blacks,
whose numbers, by Zulu invasions, may be indefi-
nitely increased at any moment, the former live
constantly on the qui vive, and it is well that, in
case of emergency, the head and the arms should
be near each other.

The small British force in Xatal, with the ex-
ception of some detachments, is concentrated in
the camp at this town.

Government House stands in the midst of a
pretty little park. In the garden, a tall euphor-
bia, and a eucalyptus imported from Australia,
attract my notice at once. As the house occupies
a commanding position, and there are not any
walls or other buildings about it, the view from
the windows embraces a vast panorama composed
of hic;h mountains, hills, and an undulatinix
])lain, in the centre of which stands the official
capital of Natal. As in all South African towns,
the streets here are of an exacfixerated width and

[part r.
State

CHAP. IV.]

NATAL

113

tolerable lennrtli, intersocting eacli otlier at ri<^^lit
anjilos. Some of tliem liave trees planted before
the houses. This is perhaps the only si<ni left
visible of the Dutch orioiu of the town, ex(;ept its
name or ratlier its two names, oddly coupled, but
perpetuating; the memory of two heroes.'^

We made a charminj? excursion with Sir Henry

Bulwer, some young officei^, and Mr. Shepstone,

to the kraal of the chief Teteleku, situated about

ten miles from the town, in one of the gor^jes of

the Swartkop. Mr. Shepstone, the brother of Sir

Theophilus, known in Europe by the short-lived

annexation of the Transvaal, is the Colonial Minister

of Foreign Amiirs. Born in the country, he has

passed his life, already well advanced, in contact

with and frequently in the midst of Zulus.

Nothing can be more lonely or mysterious than
tliis deep ravine, into which our little column
slowly makes its descent. Before us, at our f.et,
are two kraals, separated by a hollow ; above us,
apparently quite near, rises the frowning and
slightly flattened summit of the Swartkop. In
front of one of the kraals is a group of dark figures ;

- Pieter Retief, of Paarl, tho descendant of a Hurrnenot family
treacherously massacred with his family hy Dingaan, the head chief
ot the Zulus (1888), and Gert Maritz, a burgher of Graaf Reinet
both of them leaders of the Boers hi Natal, and founders of the
eplieuieral republic called Natalia. The foundation of the town
Pietermantzbiu-g dates from this period (1840).

VOL. I. J

114

SOUTH AFRICA

[PAHT r.

I ■
1

tlic cliicf standing upr'tL^it, liis men, in token of
respect, squatting' on their heels. At our ajjproach
Teteleku stepped forward and lielped us to dis-
mount. The men, still squattinir, uttered a cry, or
rather a hoarse gi'owL It is their way of saluta-
tion. The women, ranoed in line at a rcs])ectl'ul
distance, exclaimed in chorus, ' Oho ! ' This is
the lieight of politeness. A youn<2' person, one of
tlie numerous wives of tlie chief, attracted my at-
tention by her beauty. She I'emained modestly
behind the chief's favourite wile and another
black McLT Merrilies, but, while endeavouring to
conceal, she contrived to show, herself The
women had their bosoms and the lower part of
their bodies covered. The very vouncr Li'irls, beau-
tifully shaped, wear their black hair hanging down
their backs. The married women dye theirs
with red ochre. The chief, avIio had been advised
of the Governor's visit, was dressed in his gala
attire, a jacket, and on his head, which was
crow^ned with a circular ornament, he had a
scarlet feather. To testily his respect, he walked
with the upper part of his body shglitly inclined,
and never turned his eyes from the Governor. But,
with all these marks of deference, he seemed what
he was, a great lord in his country. We had to
creep on all fours, through a small square open-
ing with a rudely carved framew^ork, in order to

CHAP. IV.]

NATAL

1^5

'ised
<^ala
Avas
ad a
Iked
iiied,
But,
what
d to
3en-
r to

ontor liis s]")a('ioiis and clean Init, ])nvod witli a
kind of stufeo, to wliieli the women, hy means of
constant treadinu", ai'e al)le to i;ive the hardness
and hriHiiincy of marl)h\ ( )f furniture, not a trace.
'Die notables ai'rived one hy one. enterinjj", like oui'-
selves, on hands and knees, hut with the aiiility of
a ])anther, and i-auL'ed themselves alonu* the walls,
where they disappeared in the darkness. Then- are
no windows in these huts, and in eousidei'atioii of
the weak eyes of the whites, which cannot hear the
smoke, they had not liuhted the lire ou the hearth.
The chief showed ns his treasui'es, consistin^i of
skins and some cotton covei'ino-s whieh the women
])nt on at public dances. At the end of our visit,
some beer of the country was served in a larae
bowl, which went round after the ehief had iii'st
drunk out of it, to show that it contained no])oison.
I asked him, through the nuKlium of Mr. !Shep-
stone, if snakes ever found their way into his hut.
He said in reply that those which came were hia
kindred, and therefore welcome.

On our leaving, the whole population of the
kraal accompanied us to the s])ot where we had
left our horses. The women, squatting as on our
arrival, rose at the moment of our departure,
crying ' Olio ! Oho ! '

The scene was wild, the outline of the Land-
scape stern, and the splendour of the heavens, as

1 -J

ii6

SOUTH AFRICA

[part r.

.. :•

I'l' ii ' I

I '

we io-LMitcro(l ru'ttM'niarit^^biirg, halllotl all descrip-
tioTi.

I'iVory cvoniiiLT tlioro was a <n'aii(l cliimor at
GovL'niiiK'Ut House. On those occasions, were it
not lor the Zulu servants, ftne-lookiniiinen, dressed
in suitable livery — a jacket and drawers of white
linen, turned u]) with yellow — but barefooted,
after the custom of tlie country, I should have
tht)ujilit myself in a country house in Old Enj^land.
rietermaritzbui'g is the ])olitical, military, adminis-
trative, judicial, and ecclesiastical centre of the
colony ; Durban is its seaport. I was able, there-
fore, to make the accpiaintance here of all the nota-
bilities of Xatal : of tlie Chief Justice ; of Mr. Gall-
wey, the Attorney-General ; of Mr. Ackermann, the
President of tiie Legislative Council ; of Mii^r. Jolivet,
the Koman Catholic bisliop ; and of other personages
more or less connected with public afTairs ; and all.
if I am not mistaken, more or less anxious about
a complicated state of tilings little understood in
England, diflicult to understand even on the spot,
and not exempt from dangers. ' It is not easy,' I was
told, ' to know what is passing beyond the Tugela.
It is not more easy to foresee the ultimate issue of
the perplexities and doubts in London.'

They were discussing the linancial embarrass-
ments ; the violent attacks made iu the Colonial

CHAP. IV.]

NATAL

117

TTouse of Assembly by the Opposition, wlio deniaiid
a responsible ;iovenmuMit ; and, above all, tlie great,
burning, everlasting question of the natives.*"'

At the time of tlie Zulu War, the Prince
Iinj)erial, on his way to the head-((uarters of the
l^ritish conninmder, ])artook for some days of Sir
Henry Huhver's hospitality. Everyone found him
ehai'ming, quite a boy, restless, desirous of distin-
guishing himself, and persuaded that the deeds of
arms which he h()i)ed to achieve in this campaign
would hasten his accession to the Imperial
throne. Strange to say, all the young English
olficer.s who accompanied him on his excursions to
the environs of Maritzburg, had a kind of ])resenti-
nient that he would come to haiMU. An excellent
horsenum, he would always wait till all his comj)u-
nions Avere in the saddle before mounting his horse,
which he did with peculiar grace and with the
li<ditness of a feather. It is thouirht that this habit
])robably cost him his life. When in the bush,
where he was killed, the signal had been given
to mount, or rather, when everyone was Hinging

^ During my stay at Pietennaritzburg tlierc was some alarming
news about the 'reserve' of Zulnland. Cettwayo, wlio was said
to have died, had recovered from liis woimds and reassembled liis
inipix. Consequently a portion of tlie troops in ciintonments in
this town had been ordered to the banks of the Tugela.

(■

1 ;

I'li I

Ii8

SOUTH AFRICA

[part I.

liini.self on horseback, the yoiiii£r Prince, after his
AV'unt, and possibly also to show liis schk/ froid, de-
layed doinij the same. It was at this moment that
a couple of siiots came from the brushwood. Tlie
Prince's horse started, reared, and hindered his
mountino-. He tlien took to runnino- in the
direction of the horsemen, wlio ^vere under the
command of an incapable officer, was struck down
by two arrows and despatched with a small assegai.
I stayed at Government House in tlie apart-
ment occupied by the Prince when on his way to
the front, and in the next year by the Empress
Eugonie, then on her pious pilo-rinu^ixe. As I lay in
tlie bed on \vhicli these illustrious personages once
reposed, the one before going to meet his prema-
ture and tragic death, the other on her visit to the
scene of the catastroplie, half- forgotten memories,
changed suddenly into bright visions, came to
trouble my .«leep and haunt my dreams. The
birth of an heir. A fortnight afterwards, peace.
The plenipotentiaries, who have signed it, de-
scending the steps of the Foreign Office, amidst
the acclamations of tlie multitude which crowds
the quays. The cannon of the Invalides an-
nouncing to the city of Paris the event so ardently
desired. The streets full of people, men and
women, who Aveep for joy. No more cause to
tremble for the husbands, the sons, the brothers in

onAP. IV.]

NATAL

119

the Crimea ! Then tlie ' Te Deum' and tlie bells of
>[otre-Danie, and the ceremonies of the baptism,
the banquet given to tlie Emperor at the Hotel de
Ville. and all sorts of public festivities, this time
■he tokens of sincere if not general rejoicing.
Tiie kSecond Empire raised to the apogee of its
power. The country restored to confidence in the
stability of the new order of things. In Europe,
tlie reawakened hope of a future of peace. And
then — What we have seen ? And then, and lastly ?
— In the heart of Africa an ambuscade of sava^-es.
A young man stretched dead upon the heather.
A dethroned mother, bathing w,h her tears
the soil which has drunk the blood of her child.
The history of antiquity, so rich in astounding and
seemingly fabulous catastrophes, offers few analo-
gies. What subject for meditation on the nothin^^-
ness of human grandeur ! '*

On board the ' John Elder,' Sepfend)er 16.— I am
en route for AustraUa. After the toils of travel on
the African continent, after the excitement of the
life which I have been leading at the Cape, follows
the placid contemplation and the agreeable mono-

* Direct communication by steam with Ind^a beint? interrupted,
I was obliged to retuni to Cape Town, where I embarked ou Sep-
tember 15 for Austraha.

1 20

SOUTH AFRICA

[part r.

tony of a long voyage. It is the moment for cast-
ing a look back, and taking stock of the impres-
sions produced by my two months in South Africa.

At first sight the state of public affairs is an
enigma, a chaos, complex, obscure, and mysterious ;
a book written in cliaracters which none can de-
cipher. But on looking at it more closely, v'iih a
little patience and perseverance, one succeeds in
unravelling the tliread.

In Africa we are in the presence of three
elements. These are the blacks, the Dr^<^^, and
the English ; but first, and foremost, the blacks.
It is, indeed, the dark continent. Numerically, tlie
men of colour preponderate enormously over tlie
whites. And, mark the fact well, their number is
increasing, while that of the whites remains sta-
tionary, which means that, relatively speaking, it
decreases. In Xorth America, and in all the other
English colonies, the man of colour, by his contact
with the white, is disappearing and becoming
extinct. In Africa the very contrary is the case

We have here, then, one of the elements of tlie
question. Add to this that the English families
average from five to six children, the Dutch families
from ten to twelve. The English leave after a
certain time ; the Dutch remain. The influx of
both races, compared with that to America, is
triflinfj, and much smaller than that to Aus-

( I

CHAP. IV.]

NATAL

121

i"ee

tralia. In South Africa, then, tliere is tlie black
element which is increasing, the Dutch element
which remains in the country, and the English
element which comes and goes.

It is evident that, so far as numbers alone are
concerned, the future belongs to the blacks, and
that, in regard to the two white races, the chances
of the Dutch are more favourable than those of
the English. But the numerical inferiority of the
whites, Dutch and English, is compensated to a
certain extent — how far, it is true, no one can
exactly det«^rmine — by the superiority which civili-
sation gives, and also in my opinion imquestionably
by the superiority of race.

I shall not attempt — it would be useless — to
describe the different black tribes of this part of
the African continent. Up to the present the
natives count onlv as a brute force ; but this force
we must admit to be a formidable one.

Let us look rather at the two white races, and
first, in the order of history, at the first-comers,
the Dutch. I will put down on these pages what
information I have been able to derive from tlie
most various and the most authoritative sources.
On this matter not a thought, or deduction, or
supposition, in what I am about to say, is my own.
I confine myself to record as does the judge
when summing up the evidence of witnesses, and

122

SOUTH AFRICA

[part r.

I will hazard only a few ol).servations when my
siunmary is concluded.

Tlte Boem. — This term is the synonym, not
^rainmatically correct, but adopted by common
parlance, of the descendants of the old colonists
who came from Holland after 1G52. In the
Englisli world at the Cape, the word ' Boer '' is
never uttered without striking a painful chord. It
touches, in fact, the delicate question, What are
the actual feelings of the old masters of the soil
towards the new ones ? The doctor who probes
a sore is not welcome to his patient ; I do not
])retend to heal this sore, but only to examine the
malady and study it with a benevolent curiosity.

The trait of character most conspicuous in the
Boer is the thirst for independence. To this he
sacrifices everything except his religion, his family,
his oxen and wagons. He has cultivated a piece
of ground. He is tolerably prosperous, happy,
and cheerful after his manner. Laws are made
at the Cape which are irksome to him ; other
farmers have settled near him, who annoy him
also. He becomes gloomy, restless, and un-
happy. He leaves his gardens, his kitchen-plots,
his fields, his orangeries, his ostriches. He goes
aw^ay — frfA.s', as the expression is : he goes to seek
unknown lands, where he hopes to recover his
independence and solitude. It would be a great

I II

CQAP. IV.]

NATAL

123

mistake to tliink tliat it is only under Enolish rule
that he lias a(loj)ted these tastes and habits. lie
has been tlie same under the Dutch Government,
from tlie time of the Chamber of Seventeen at
i\nisterdam and tlie commanders of the Cape
sent out by the States-General. But this friction
has assumed larger proportions, and entailed
cniKsequences of serious gravity in more respects
than one, since tlie Cape Colony has passed to the
English Crown ; in other words, since the be-
ginnmg of this century. What are the relations
between the English and the Dutch ? Let us listen
to one of those who know the country best, and a
man wliose perfect freedom of mind I admire. I
will add to what he says tlie remarks of some
other persons equally worthy of belief.

'The Dutch,' says my informant, 'do not like
us, but this is due rather to want of sympathy than
to actual hostility. They are too se»sible not to see
that it would be sheer folly to dream of retaking
the country by force. They content themselves,
therefore — I am sj)eaking now of the population
of Cape Town and the other cities — with offerino-
an opposition within the Umits of the law. They
do not sulk or agitate, but they amuse themselves,
in Parliament and Avherever they can, by making
themselves disagreeable.

'These Dutchmen are quite unlike other

vil

124

SOUTH AFRICA

[part I.

people. Tlie colony makes no progress. Materially
speaking, we are the masters of the Cape, but,
morally, the Dutch possess it. Now the Dutch ai'e
a contented people (?). They ask only to remain as
they are. As whites, they know themselves to be
the equals of anybody ; as descendants of the old
settlers, true aristocrats as they are, they fancy
themselves rather superior to the rest of the world.
They are content, therefore, with being what they
are. They are equally content with what they
have, for they have what is necessary, and they
disdain what is superfluous. They are satisfied ;
they are men, in other words, who have a horror
of anything new, and, consequently, of progress.

'Paarl and Stelienbosch are, next to Cape
Town, the most ancient and the most considerable
Dutch centres. Everyone there is related, and
has brothers, cousins, or nephews in Natal, the
Orange Free State, or the Transvaal, in the veldU
or the bush ; in fact, wherever a team of some
twenty bullocks is seen dragging a wagon w^ith
its Dutch family inside it.

' Looking closely at the Boers in the different
parts of the continent, you find them everywhei'e
the same ; indifferent as to the English, caring little
about politics, seldom overtly hostile, but endur-
ing the Imperial Government, that is to say, British
sovereignty, with passive obedience ; not scheming

.ik

I .i

cn-vr. IV.]

NATAL

125

any rebellion, but watcliing coni])lacently the con-
tuiL^encies which might put an end to English rule,
rrincipally on account cf their family relations
they regard themselves as mutually responsible to
each otlier. For this reason it is often necessary
for Iler jMajesty's officials to deal with tliem with
great circumspection. This accounts for tlie popu-
larity of Sir George Grey among them, for he
ruled them witli a gentle hand. The Boers are
certainly not our enemies on principle. There have
always been ups and downs in our relations. The
marked coolness which prevails just at present is a
consequence of the not altogether lawful annexation
of the diamond-fields by the Cape Colony, to the
detriment of the Orange Free State, and of the late
war with the Transvaal. The Boers, it is true,
attacked and defeated the English troops. But if
we put ourselves in their position, we must admit
that it is we who compelled them to take arms.
Tlie death of every man who fell by English bullets
in the three actions of Lang's Neck, Ingogo, and
Majuba Hill, has thrown into mourning a large
number of lamilies, spread over all the surface
of South Africa.'

This war with the Transvaal, and the way it
ended, constitute, undoubtedly, the most important
event that has occurred since the English set foot
in this part of the world. I will take this oppor-

it '

126

SOUTH AFRICA

[part r.

.. ;

f ■

tunity of repeatinsf briefly the account oiven me
by one wlio lias the rijjfht to say ipioram pars fai.

' The act annexing the Transvaal, accomplished
on his own authority by Sir Theophilus Shcpstone,
was not strictly lej^al, but it was leixalised after-
wards by the adhesion of the majority of the popu-
lations. Those of the Boers who had op])osed it
ended by submitting in silence. The oflicial sent
to the Transvaal as Commissioner displeased them
from the first. He had brought witli him English
officers and subordinates, and he was suspected,
probably wrongly, of wishing to introduce the
English language in official transactions and in the
schools. A de];)utation of Boers, charged witli re-
presenting the grievances of the new province, was
sent to London. They asked for the maintenance
of the usages, customs, and laws of the country, and
of Dutch as the ofl[icial lani:fua<ie, or in case of re-
fusal for the annulment of the act of annexation.
Their demand with reixard to the customs of tlie
country implied tacitly the sanction of domestic
slavery and forced labour. It is conceivable tliat
the English Cabinet should have declined the ac-
ceptance, pure and simple, of these j^roposals, but
they might perhaps have been able to arrive at
some understanding or compromise. Her Ma-
jesty's Government rephed by a flat refusal. On
this fact becominof known in the Transvaal a sudden

[part

CHAP. IV.]

NATAL

127

reaction took place. Tlie extreme party, wlio liad
iiitlierto been restrained l\y moderate men, carried
the day. The ]5oers armed tliemselves, and took
np a menacing attitude. The Commissioner called
for assistance from tlie Cape. Some troops, des-
])atclied tliitlier in liaste, were surrounded on the
inarch by tlie Boers and summoned to surrender.
On their refusal, the Boers opened fire and killed
most of thein. This was the first encounter, that
ot Lang's Neck.

'At this news. General Colley, the commander
of the forces in Natal, hastened up with live hun-
dred men, attacked several thousand Boers en-
trenched in a strong position, and was repulsed
with great loss. This was the second affair, that
of In^oiro.

' Meanwhile, considerable reinforcements, sent
out from England, under the command of General
AVood, landed at Durl^an ; but General Collev, im-
patient to re-establish his damaged reputation, and
contrary to the orders of his new chief, declined
to wait for the arrival of the fresh troops, and
occupied a position deemed by him impregnable.
The Boers stormed it. Sir G. Colley's weak force
was repulsed and destroyed, and he himself was
killed. This was the third affair, that of Majuba
Hill.

' Mr. Gladstone, on hearing of these disasters.

1 *„

i V

128

SOUTH AFRICA

[part r.

teletjraplied to the Governor of tlie Cape : " We
have wronged the Boers ; make peace." You can
iniu<;ine tlie despair of tlie general, wlio was tlien
only a few marches from the scene of war, and
felt himself perfectly able to chastise the rebels.
You can imagine also the consternation and anger
of the troops and English residents, and under-
stand the weakening of British prestige, the natural
result of a peace concluded after three defeats.
Nevertheless, the orders were peremptory, and a
convention was signed, re-establishing the " African
llepublic " of the Transvaal under certain restric-
tions, which, moreover, in consequence of the
action now being taken by the President, will in
all probability be cancelled.^

' These events, from our point of view — that of
the Englishman in South Africa — are deploraljle.
The Boers of the Transvaal, at least the immense
nuijority cf them, are perfectly indifferent as to
the constitution or the power which rules them.
They had no aversion to the English. They wished,
and wish, simply to live after their own manner,
and to use their own language in all the transactions
of life. In short, they wish to be left alone ;
otherwise, they fight or trek. Now, in conse-
quence of this unfortunate campaign, throughout
all the immense territory where the Dutch are

* They have actually been cancelled.

CUAP. IV.]

NATAL

129

found, a deep revulsion of feeling has occurred.
A very small minority has ren.ained openly and
frankly attached to the English Government. The
great majority, who had accustomed themselves to
our rule, are now cold and reserved, but not openly
hostile. The convention concluded after defeats,
and without any reparation of the damage sus-
tained by our arms, has given the Dutch element
not only of the Transvaal and the Orange Free
State, but also of the two colonies, and of all
South Africa, an exaggerated opinion of their
strength. Nevertheless, the evil is not irreparable,
if Iler Majesty's Government is willing and able to
take account of the state of mind and national
sentiment of the Dutch.

' Lord Carnarvon, when, before these events
occurred, he became Minister of the Colonies, took
pains to further the realisation of a project much
in favour with politicians in England, namely, the
formation of a South African confederation. The
idea is sound, and one which has a future. But
confederation can only be organised slowly ; that
is to say, after our white populations have under-
stood its value. When that day comes, it will
be found to be a necessity, and will effect its own
accomplishment. Impatient to achieve this work,
the Minister sent us the historian Mr. Froude.
This distinguished man of letters, who, be it

VOL. I. K

130

SOUTH AFRICA

[part r.

reincinbcrcd, had no oflTici.al position, inado a tour
throii<ili all the [)rovin('cs and states of Soutli
Africa, or<ranisin<j mc(;tinj,'s wherever he went,
and explaining' at len;ith in speeches tlie advan-
ta<res whicii confederation would l)rin<' to the
Dutch element, ''the most numerous, the stronj^^est,
the most finnly established element in the counti'v."
Together with the Ccjuvention of Majuba Hill, this
mission has done much towards the inconvenient,
not to say dangerous, reawakening of the Dutch
spirit. But, in the main, it was a failure. Lord
Carnarvon then ap])ointed Sir Bartle Frere as
Governor of Cape Colony and High Commissioner
of South Africa. This eminent, fasc ing, and
universally respected man, beloved in uie country
beyond any of his predecessors, brought to the
accomplishment of his mission the ardour of his
convictions, the loftiness of a boldly tempered
spirit, and a rare experience acquired in India and
in East Africa. The disaster of Isandula paved
the way for Sir Bartle Frere's retirement, and Mr.
Gladstone's accession to office determined it. But
even if neither of these events had occurred, con-
federation would not have been achieved, simply
because the actual state of things and the situa-
tion, as a whole, still presented insurmountable
obstacles.'

After these English witnesses, let us hear the

111

CDAP, IV.]

NATAL

the

confuloiitial uttcnuh'os of an old Hoor, wlio, in tlio
])rcsoii<'(' of a non-British stran;ior, consented to
enieiye for once from the habitual reserve of his
nice.

' I am loyal,' he says ; * my father has been so.

• • •

Tie said to us, ''My <'hildren, God commands ns to
respect authority. Let us respect, therefore, the
Iji^dish Government." That is what I do. lint
the Enjflish have ruined us (by putting" down the
forced labour of the blacks). Under the old state
of thin<jfs wx' were happy. The blacks were
aware of their inferiority. It is not true that the
Dutch ill-treated them: the very contrary is the
truth. The EuLdish have promu1<;ated the false
and dan<rerous theory of the equality of races.
The blacks now will noi: work at all, or will work
very little. They rtre not the more happy for that.
But the lioers have lost the means of cultivatino;
their fields. They are beginning to be impoverished.
They were formerly rich, in their way. Anyone
is rich when he has all that is required to live in
plenty. Their wants were limited, and they had
quite enough to satisfy them. Now they are
all more or less in debt. The State revenues
are increasini;, thanks to the taxes which are in-
creasing also, but the Dutch population is de-
clining in prosperity. With that, the finances
of the colony are in a state of embarrassment.

K 2

.i.

I .2

SOUTH AFRICA

[part r.

But the English have done more tlian that ; they
have armed the blacks. Under Dutch rule the
blacks were forbidden, under heavy penalties, to
possess arms. Our magistrates exercised the strictest
surveillance in this matter. But what have the
English done ? When they set about constructing
the breakwater in Cape Town harbour, with a view
to attracting labourers, they offered the blacks
high wages, telling them that their earnings would
enable them to buy guns. I can still hear my father
saying : " My children, you see my white hairs. I
shall not see what the English are laying in store
for us, but you will see it. It is the beginning of
the end. When the blacks are armed, they will
kill the whites." A very large number of the
natives now possess firearms, for they are free to
purchase them, and English manufacturers take
good care to provide them.'

We see the gulf that separates the views of
these two white races — the Boer of the seventeenth
century and the Englishman of the present day.

To sum up, the Boers are getting possession of
everything animate and inanimate. They occupy
and cultivate the soil, they hunt away or tame the
wild beasts, they subdue the natives and make
them their slaves, in the sense of forcing them to
work for them, but treat them like members of
the family. They came to Africa in 1652 with the

CHAP. IV.]

NATAL

T '' ■^

intention of remaining tliere, and they do remain
there. The future and Africa belong to tlieni,
unless tliey are expelled by a stronger power,
the blacks or the Enghsh. They ac^cept the
struggle with tlie blacks, and they avoid all
contact with the EngUsh. They trel-. They
have not retained any bond of union, either
moral or political, with the mother-country,
Holland, which they have well-nigh forgotten.
The Hollanders, or actual immigrants from
Holland, wlio turn mercliants or politicians, but
rarely cultivators of tlie soil, ins[)ire them with
little sympathy. Modern ideas : a parliamentary
constitution, equality, democracy, socialism, do
not exist for them. Tliey know no constitution
but the family, they combine only to protect
common interests, or to preserve themselves from
common dangers. The; are Republicans, but
Republicans after the fashion of the pastoral patri-
archs of the Bible. They continue to trek, to shun
the modern man, be he English or German. In
these wanderings no peril daunts them, no obstacle
arrests them. Tliey sow with their corpses and
the carcases of their oxen, killed bv the tsetse, the
solitudes of Namaqua and Damara lands, and other
still mysterious countries of the north and west of
Southern Africa. The purity of tlieir morals is
extolled. They have kept religiously tlie fiiith, the

'fip

I >• ■}

t '

134

SOUTH AFRICA

[PA.RT I.

prejudices, and the dislikes of their ancestors. In
all respects they belong to the seventeenth century.

At Cape Town and in other towns you find
Dut(;h Afrikanders who, by their culture and
refined manners, would l)e the equals of anyone in
the high circles of our European capitals. But at
tlie bottom of their hearts they remain Boers.
Africa they dearly love.

Physically speaking, the Boers represent tlie
type of Teniers and the Breughels ; in short, of
old Holland whicli is ])erpetuated on the black
continent, just as the France of Louis XIY. has
survived political changes in Canada.

The Dutch have founded two independent
States. The Orange Free State, inhabited by
farmers, is tlie model of a well-ordered, tranquil,
and prosperous community. The Transvaal, the
other Dutch republic, now become the rendezvous
of white and coloured adventurers, and constantly
menaced by its savage neighbours, presents, on
the contrary, the spectacle of troubles and con-
tinual wars.

Tlie Orange Free State ^ is divided into farms
(synonymous -with plantations). Every farmer is
allowed to employ, as servants and labourers,
a fixed number of natives. This is an effectual
mode of limiting the black population. Besides

^ The territory is about 70,000 square miles in extent.

ill

in I

.!*■■ Ji ■gi«iiMiii»*<i<i|i

'in

[part I.

has

th(

CHA.P. IV.]

NATAL

135

this, there are two ' reserves,' or locahties set
apart for tlie natives. The number of the whites
is reckoned at 50,000 or G0,000, and that of blacks
at 25,000. Wliat a difference from Natal, where
you see 30,000 whites face to face wdth nearly
400,000 blacks, whose numbers, from immigration
and the course of natural laws, are ever on the in-
crease ! In the Free State coloured immigration is
forbi^Men. The surplus of the old native popula-
tion has been compelled to emigrate either to Natal
or to Cape Colony. In virtue of a convention with
England, the frontiers of the Orange Republic on
the side of Basutoland are guarded by the
Imperial Government conjointly with the Govern-
ment of Cape Colony. ' Thus, thanks to the
traditional wisdom of the Dutch,' as a hi<Th
English official once remarked to me, ' and to the
adroitness of President Brand, this Free State is
protected against a double danger — that of being
overrun by black immigrants and that of beinix
invaded by armed and hostile natives.'

Johannes Henricus Brand, the son of a President
of the House of Assembly at Cape Town, born in
that town in 1822, sent to Ley den in Holland to
study law, a barrister in London and at the Cape,
was elected President of the Oranfje Free State in
1863, and after several re-elections still occupies
this high and important position. He is, and

I'll
III

•I

1 ■ M

136

SOUTH AFRICA

[part I.

passes for being, one of the most remarkable men
in this part of the world. Nevertheless, as persons
say wlio know him intimately, he owed liis success
less to liis exceptional intelligence than l;o the
sound sense, the sober-mindedness, and the courage
which distinguish him, and, above all, to a bonhomie
and natural charm of manner which disarm his op-
ponents and often convert them into friends. The
Imperial Government, wishing to make some re-
cognition of his merits, conferred upon him, not
without startling somewhat the austere republican
virtue of the burghers, the honour of knight-
hood, which, after some hesitation, he accepted.
Nevertheless, he does not judge it prudent to take
advantage of the title of Sir, though his wife,
more courageous than he, and not without a certain
influence, calls herself Lady Brand. Of all the
territories inhabited by white Afrikanders, the
Orange Free State is the most tranquil and tlie
best consolidated. Putting aside the merits of the
President, the State owes these advantages — I am
careful to repeat it, for it involves a vital element
of South African politics — to the favourable
numerical proportion between the white and
coloured populations. The latter have ceased to
be a danger to the former. But this proportion
can only be maintained by shutting the State
against the invasion from outside, whetlier peace-

■-— •*«*WS»*I«»|K» <•*-"

m0m

CHAP. IV.]

NATAL

137

•4

miie

rjot

fill or violent, of tlie Basiitos and otlier natives.
Now this task, which would be too much for tlie
strength of the Orange burghers, is effected, as lias
])een said, by a government more powerful tlian
theirs, that of England. Look at the Transvaal, at
Cape Colony, and above all at British Kaffraria
and Natal, and you will find tliere permanent
distractions and periodical troubles, caused in
each case by the numerical superiority, whicli is
enormous, of the black element.

Of the two Dutch republics, the Transvaal, tliis
favourite resort of filibusters, both white and of
mixed blood, is the less consolidated state, the one
more exposed to the incursions of hostile tribes, and
the worse governed. The principal personage. Pre-
sident Krliger, the son of a Boer, is not a Brand.

The English. — These consist either of traders
or farmers. In the eastern provinces of Cape
Colony, and in Natal, the number of English
planters far exceeds thuu of the Dutch. These
English have brought with them their clear minds,
strong arms, and intrepid hearts, together witli
considerable capital. Like all the colonisers of
tliis nation, very few of them belong to the gentry ;
the mass come from the lower middle classes ; a
certain contingent is furnished by the people.
Few of them, perhaps not one, comes out with
any intention of remaining. Their energy is pro-

•ii.-

.?h

138

SOUTH AFRICA

[part I.

verbial, tlieir temerity unparalleled, and their
activity in proportion. But the traders are suf-
ferinf? from the depression in the markets of the
world, and from the disastrous effects of wild specu-
lation in gold-mining or diamond-digging companies.
The farmers suffer also from the general downward
movement. And on all alike, whether farmers or
traders, weighs the sense of inse ^urity caused by
the numerical preponderance of the blacks. In the
lioers, whom they thoroughly dislike, they see
rivals and malcontents ; in the blacks, lazy fellows
who ought to be whipped, instead of being treated
as their equals.

The official world, obliged to hold the balance
between men of every colour, pursues a different
course of ideas. It is composed of gentlemen, born
to a large extent in England, but also of English
Afrikanders, and the Dutch arc not excluded from
the public service. You meet with them in all
the high posts of the administration and judi-
ciary. For many years England has sent out here,
as governors, men of worth, and has surrounded
them with excellent staffs. If most of these high
functionaries have left their posts in disgrace,
it is evidentl}^ not in the men (I am speaking of
those who have been sent out), but in the state of
things, that the causes of this circumstance must be
sought.

CHAP. IV.]

NATAL

139

The Germans, putting aside their colonies in
British Kafl'raria, where tliey form small compact
communities, are scattered over Cape Colony. They
do not constitute as yet a separate element. But
their reputation as farmers is made. They pass for
the best, and their only rival? are the Scotch
farmers. Tliis is tlie opinion of all the Englishmen
whom I have met and questioned on the subject.

I must not omit to mention the politicians —
the men who make politics their profession, the
ParUament men par excellence. They are cosmo-
politans — English, English Afrikanders, Dutch
Afrikanders, and Germans. There is little to dis-
tinguish them from their brethren in Europe.

Such are the various elements which make up
the populations ^f South Africa. In Cape Colony,
the proportion of EngUsh to Dutch is one to two ;
of whites to men of colour one to four. But we
must not lose sight of tie cardinal fact that,
excepting the frontiers formed by the sea and the
Orange Free State, this colony is surrounded by
countries inhabited by blacks. The possibility of
invasion, therefore, Avill have to be taken inio
account. In this respect Natal can offer a pre-
cedent. In 1844 Mr. Justice Cloete reported to
Governor Napier, that when the English first occu-
pied that territory there were onb 3,000 natives,
of whom a third part were perishing of hunger.

K ' fi.

t'fS

140

SOUTH AFRICA

[part I.

»l

But in the space of two or three years, tlianks to a
sudden immigration of Zuhis, ihe black population
rose to 100,000, and reached in 187G a total of
nearly 400,000. Even this total is now actually
exceeded.

In 1856, Cape Colony was given a constitution
with a responsible government. Tliis measure,
which from the first gave rise, even at the Cape,
to a conflict of opinion, and was in reality hailed
with satisfaction only by a small set of politicians,
was simply the application of a general principle,
then adopted by Her Majesty's Government, in
regard to the great colonies of the Crown. The
Government left to these colonies the conduct of
their afi'airs, and, in return for this concession, cast
upon them the care of providing for their safety.
As a logical consequence, the Imperial troops
were withdrawn, and a considerable saving of
expense to the Home treasury was effected. As
for the natives, the Government granted them the
same political rights which had been conferred
upon the whites. In fact, both whites and blacks
were henceforth to be considered and treated as
equals, and, consequently, admitted to vote on a
footing of perfect equality. Canada, Australia, and
even New Zealand, where the native element left is
but small, appear to flourish well enough under
this half-republican and wholly democratic regime.

CHAP. IV.]

NATAL

141

Such, then, is tlie constitution now existing in
Cape Colony ; perfect autonomy, the political
equality of all the inliabitants, without difference
of colour ; and lastly, the obligation, which hitherto
it has been impossible completely to fulfil, of pro-
vidin<x for their own defence.

The Governor," appointed by the Queen for a
term of five years, and armed, in a cei'tain measure,
witli the powers of a constitutional soverei'ni,
neither reigns nor governs. Nevertheless, he ap-
points and dismisses the Ministers, at the will of
the Parliament. He has the right to dissolve the
Legislative Assembly, but, as a general rule, he
Avould not care to do so. His chief power rests in
the veto he can oppose to votes and bills whicli
he judges to be prejudicial to the interests of
the Empire. He acts under the directions of the
Secretary of State for the Colonies, who in turn
is subject to the fluctuations of domestic politics
in England.

In addition to this, the Governor of the Cape
Colony as a rule exercises the important func-
tions of High Commissioner for the territories of
South Africa, subject, .mder various designations,
to the influence of the British Crown, thouf^h not
forming any actual part of the two colonies.

I shall not attempt — and it would not fall

' See page 30.

142

SOUTH AFRICA

Li'ART T.

within the scope of tliis journal — to retrace liere
the liistory of tliis part of the African continent
since the conquest of the C*aj)e by tlie En<,disli.
I do not purpose to enumerate tlie annexations,
(lisannexations, and reannexations, tlie ])eriodical
wars with the Kaflirs, the wars with the Zulus,
the wars with the Boers in the Transvaal, the
military ex])editions into independent countries,
dictated by imperious necessity ; the transactions
with the two Dut(.'h republics ; a peace sijjfned
after three defeats ; the parcelling of Zululand,
followed by the restoration of a savage king,
who had but recently been made a prisoner after
a bloody campaign ; the conventions concluded,
modified, cancelled, and remade, according to
the need of the hour or the changing views of
the cabinets and parties which in England came
successively into power. All these facts have
been accomplished under our eyes. I must there-
fore suppose them to be known, at least by those
who interest themselves in the affairs of South
Africa.

Everyone is agreed on one point — that the
state of South Africa is far from satisfactory. A
celebrated saying might be applied to it, which was
once applied to Turkey : It is a sick man.

Now let us examine this disease. I put aside,
at the outset, all personal f|uestions. It would

ill'

en AT.

IV.]

NATAL

be pri'suniptuoiis on tlic part of a straii<:er, wlio
lias s])oiit so sliort a time as I did in tlie counti-y,
to set himself up as a judize of public men who
have made themselves most conspieuous by their
conduct of afl'airs in this part of the world. More
than that, it would be useless. The mischief
evidently lies, not in the men but in the state of
thin^^s ; that is to say, in the conn<.juration of the
country, in the diflerence between the races which
mid^e up the population, and lastly, in the oriran-
isation of the <iovernment. The proof of this is,
that of all the Governors who have followed eacli
other at the Cape — and amon<i them have been
some statesmen of distinction and many of great
ability — not one has succeeded completelj^ or has
only succeeded for a time, in maintainin^x material
order, and still less in establishing a stable and
really satisfactory state of things. The disease
lies therefore, I repeat it, in the things, and not
in the men.

I have already alluded to the geographical
situation of the two colonies, their frontiers open
to immense and almost unknown regions, inhabited
by savage hordes, wdio, in consef[uence of revolu-
tions or intestine wars, or, as has happened to
Natal, to escape from the cruelties of a tyrannical
king, may at any moment inundate colonial terri-
tory. I have also described the special charac-

I '

(/■

144

SOUTH AFRICA

[part I.

teristics of tlie iuljabitants. It remains to deal with
tlie constitution.

The constitution of Cape Colony is founded on
the two principles of ai)S()lute autonomy in coh)niul
aflairs and of the ])olitical oriuality of races.

The Anjrlo-Saxon is born to be autonomous,
Wlioever has seen him at woi'k in dill'orent parts
of the globe will com])rehend that autonomy
nuist form the foundation of the constitution of
a colony inhabited exclusively or in a large majority
by Anglo-Saxons. The Dutch Boers after their
manner detest as much as, nav more than, the
English the intervention of any power in their
affairs. Here, therefore, as in the Australian
colonies, the task of the Governor is reduced to
the prevention of encroachments on the province of
Imperial interests. In this respect, setting aside
the coloured popvlation, the parallel between the
Cape and Australasia is complete, with only this
shade of difference — a very important one, it is true
— that in the Australian colonies the English and
their descendants form the immense majority, while
at i-he Cape two-thirds of the white population
are Dutch ; and that if the recent reawakening of
national spirit among the latter leads to a greater
participation of the Boers in political and par-
liamentary life, the power must inevitably pass
to the Dutch majorities. This contingency en-

CHAP. IV.]

NATAL

145

ffajxcs the serious attention of Enj^lish residents in
Africa.

The second principle is that of tlie political
equality of whites and blacks.

No doubt, from the Christian's point of view,
who says our Saviour has shed His blood for all,
and in the sense of the philosopher, who maintains
tliat everyone, black as well as white, is called to
enjoy an equal share of the pleasures of the world,
we are all equal ; but no on..', except utopists,
whose influence, alas, is considerable, and whose
number is legion, will seriously affirm that the
Kaffirs, the tribes of Namaqualand, ai.d the de-
generate races of Hottentot blood are, like ourselves,
capable of voting, of being elected, or of sitting in
the Houses and on committees — in short, of protect-
ing their interests by following the parliamentary
ways of civilised societies. And yet this is wliat the
law assumes. Only, thanks to the force of circum-
stances, more powerful than the Utopias of man,
this law remains still a dead-letter, and fortunately
so, for on the day when the constitution shcmld
become a reality, the first step taken by the black
nuijority would probably be to vote the expulsion
of the whites. It may be asked. If the l)la('ks are
our equals, as the fundamental law declares, how is
it that they, who outnumber the wliite po[)ulation
of the colony by four to one, are not now in pos-

VOL. I. L

f i.

■t

146

SOUTH AFRICA

[part I.

^f:

session of the majority ? For the very simple
reason that they have no idea of making use of
their constitutional rights. There is no danger,
therefore, whatever for the present moment. The
blacks do not vote, but they are governed by a
white majority in Parliament composed in great
part of men who require black labour, and wlio
consequently are not disinterested legislators and
masters. There can be no question that this law,
though inspired by a sentiment of philanthropy,
has in the end produced eflects contrary to the
intention of those who made it. It was tlieir wish
to make the black the equal of the white ; now he
is not so yet, and he probably never will be so.
But in grantmg him political rights which lie does
not know how to use, they have deprived him of
that except^ '^nal, paternal, and effective protection
which the native in all the Crown colonies enjoys
from the representative of the Queen.

Experience has shown the impossibility, in the
long run, of governing colonies of mixed popula-
tions, where the blLcks form the Lj'ge majority,
by means of a responsible or parliamentarj^ govern-
ment. Thus Jamaica has asked, on its own initia-
tive, to be made again a Crown colony. Katal, on
the representations of Lord Wolseley, has done the
same. Cape Colony, I have been told confiden-
tially by politicians of Cap'^ Town, will be obliged
sooner or later to follow suit.

-V...

l^.t..

CHAP. IV.]

NATAL

147

IW,

liged

The adinission of the principle of race equahty
in the constitution of tliis colony is, in my opinion,
tlie first cause of the malady whicli I am cndea-
vourino; to diasfnose.

The Governor, as has been said, is usually, in
addition. High Commissioner for Soutli Africa. In
this double capacity he acts partly as ])lenipoten-
tiary of the Imperial Government, and partly as
representative of the interests of the colony, whicli
includes territories inhabited almost entirely by
savages ; and his authority extends also indirectly,
partially, and under divers titles, to the Kaffirs, the
Basutos, the Bechuanas, and to Stellaland, &c. The
colony thus sliareswith the motlier-country cerL-^in
duties and certain expenses, and, as a logical conse-
quence, enjoys the power of discussing and deter-
mining, in concert with the High Commissioner,
the line of })olicy to be followed in given cases.

Here, then, are two powers, starting from
different points of view, and embracing different
horizons ; and no one will deny that ihat of the
statesmen w}»o govern the British Empire is ti:e
more extensive of the two — two })owers called to
act together in tlie pursuit of interests rarely iden-
tical, often divcrwe, and sometimes opposed, and to
act under circumstances in which the chief part is
played by the unknown and the unexpected. Add
to thit, that each of them seeks to throw upon the

L 2

iri'

' tt

•a

I il

J,,

; t

I !

1 ^

1 1

^ :

!'.

148

SOUTH AFRICA

[part I.

Other the cost, whether permanent or temporary,
of undertakings entered upon jointly. It is needless
to deduce the awkward consequences of this system.
They are self-evident at once, for they constitute
the history of English dominion in South Africa.
]5eyond doubt the periodical commotions, arising
frequently on a sudden in the midst of the black
populations who live outside the confines of the
colony, jeopardise the public peace in that colony,
menace its commercial relations with the interior
of the continent, and become, in short, a cause of
danjrers and troubles to its own territory. Theo-
retically, it is therefore the duty of the colony,
enjoying, as it does, perfect autonomy, to provide the
means of defence or repression. But experience
proves that, left to itself, it is politically, financially,
and in a military sense, incapable of fulfdling this
task ; that it requires the assistance of the Empire ;
and that the co-operation of these two powers leads
to inextricable complications, and to conflicts which
])aralyse all action, sometimes at moments when
delay means danger.

I think, then, that the annexation of black
territories to Cape Colony, and the interference of
the colony in tlie affairs of the savage countries
which are adjacent, that is to say, lying outside its
frontiers, constitute another cause of the malady.

But tlie chief source yud ori<rin of all the evils

f ■ 1

I'i.^r

CHAP. IT.]

NATAL

149

must be sought, it seems to me, in the want of
stabihty in the supreme conduct of South African
affairs.

The Governor and High Commissioner is
appointed for five years. He requires one or two
of these, more probably two, to acquaint himself
thoroughly with men and affairs, and, what is also
mosi Jiportant, to make himself known in the co-
lony. His real activity scarcely begins till his third
year of office, and it ends at the close of the fourth ;
the fifth year being always more or less like the
last days of a dying man, occupied in making his
will, but kuvAving well that his wishes will not be
respected by his successor. For if the successor is
the inheritor of his place, he is not the inheritor of
the ideas which his predecessor has endeavoured
to carry out during his short stay in the colony.
These reflections, which are not made by way of
criti( ism — it is not my part to criticise — ap])ly
equally to T dia and to all the English colonies.
Tlie brief duxation of the functions ')f each
Governor, founded perhaps on considerations un-
connected with colonial interests, is certainly one
of tiie causes, thougli not the principal one, of the
want of stability in ine puhtical conduct of ailairs
in South Africa.

On the other hand, the Governors, like the
officials belonging to the diplomatic service, are

s.<

V4'

I t

ISO

SOUTH AFRICA

[part I.

not clianged — and wisely so, in my opinion —
wlien a political change takes place in England.
They stand outside the struggle of parties. It is
none the less true that the authority and prestige
of a representative of the Crown, sent out by a
Conservative Ministry, are singularly lessened, in
tlie colony, by the accession of a Liberal Cabinet,
and vice versd. Not only does the Governor then
--^o^.^ to enjoy the complete confidence of the
Colonial Secretary of State, but most frequently
he finds himself in this dilemma : either he puts
liimself into opposition with the new head of the
dei)artment, and in tliat case will assuredly come
of!" second-best ; or else, in conformity with his
new instructions, which are probably very different
from, if not the exact op])osite of, tliose wliich have
liitherto guided him, he has to retrace his steps,
and undo what he has done — a sure means of
losing consideration in the eyes of the colonists.

But, to sum up all, the Governors are only the
supreme organs of the Imperial Government ; they
must conform to the orders of the Secretary of State.
The source of the evil hes therefore in the centre,
and it i^ tliere that tlie remedy will have to be
ap))lie<l. Tlie question, it seems to me, is how to
lind a dominant and directing idea, placed above
.•md outside the oscillations in the domestic politics
of the day, and the individual notions of Ministers

CHAP. IV.]

NATAL

151

who come and go. It will be for statesmen in
authority to conceive this idea, for Parliament to
pronounce upon it, and for the British Government
with the aid of the Governors, and, if necessary,
of the local governments, to give it practical
shape, and to adapt it to the exigencies of time and
place. If it is just, tlie support of the national
instinct will not be wanting.

Nothing has struck me so much as the dis-
couragement whicli I found prevailing in the two
South African colonies. What alarms and paralyses
the officials is not the embarrassments of every
kind, the difficulties and the dangers, evident if
not imminent, which have accumulated on African
soil, but the uncertainties which hang over the
supreme conduct of affairs, the natural result of
the absence of any dominant and, so to speak, un-
changeable idea or plan.

When I say unchangeable, the word must not
be taken too literally. There is nothing un-
changeable in politics except principles, so long
as it is possible not to deviate from them, whicli,
moreover, one seldom does with impunity. But
a man must know wliat he wants, and must
change his mind as little as possible. Were I an
Englishman, that is all I should ask of those who
preside over the destinies of tlie country. Everyone,
and, above all, Africa, should know that the pro-

. i„

n/.

152

SOUTH AFRICA

[part I.

gramme adopted by the English nation is placed,
as far as possible, beyond the pale of ministerial
changes and the strife of parties. This is what I
mean by an unchangeable idea.

It will be necessary to choose between three
courses. The first is, to keep and consolidate present
possessions. The second is, to extend those posses-
sions ad infinitum, or to some imaginary or natural
limit, paying regard only to the colonies of other
European nations, and thus to make an Indian
Africa ; the third is, to evacuate this part of the
continent, except the Cape of Good Hope, or such
other point on the soutliern coast as might serve
for a harbour of refuge and a coaling station.

This last solution would meet the views of a
small school of politicians, who desire the dis-
memberment of the British Empire, but who,
so far as I am able to judge, have lately lost
ground considerably in England, as well as in the
English possessions abroad. No one who has
visited the Cape and Natal will ever counsel the
abandonment of those colonies. The consequences
of such a policy are easy to foresee. The Dutch,
who form the majority of whites, would try to
found a third Dutch republic. The English resi-
dents would oppose the attempt. There would
be a conflict. Both sides would be compelled
to seek an alliance with the blacks, and this

CHAP. IV.]

NATAL

m :

alliance, according to good logic — though facts,
it is true, sometimes assert their independence of
logical rules — must, of necessity, entail the ruin of
the whites.

With respect to the first two contingencies I
would make one general observation.

The English in Africa are in a position analogous
to that occupied by their fellow-countrymen in
India towards the independent princes, before
all those who inhabited the vast triangle, situated
between the sea, the Hindoo Koosh, and tlie
Himalayas had been, directly or indirectly, made
subject to the Queen's sceptre, and in the position
still occupied by the Eussians in Central Asia.
Your neighbours are barbarians. Depredations,
violations of the frontier, incursions by savage
hordes or by bands of filibusters are the order
of the day. To put a stop to these your troops
have to cross the frontiers and chastise the peace-
breakers. Nothing is more easy. But if, when
this is done, you return to your old position, all
will have to be begun anew. You, therefore,
keep part of your neighbours' territory ; in other
words, you annex it to your own, you advance your
frontiers. But the same state of things repeats
itself and entails the same consequences. This is
the history of Central Asia, of India, and of South
Africa.

t I

154

SOUTH AFRICA

[I'ART I.

There are imperious and irresistible necessities,
events lying outside your influence and control,
wliich compel you to advance. Do you wish to
advance or not? '^he whole question is comprised
ill that.

It is on this paramount question that it seems
to me necessary to come to some final and un-
swerving resolution.

One of the most frequent complaints I have
heard is that, when difficulties arise at such and
such a point of tliis immense territory, it is the
custom to smooth them over, according to the needs
of the hour and place, instead of dealing with them
broadly from the standpoint of the permanent and
general interests of the colony and the Empire.
But tliis would presuppose a system, and it is
precisely a system which is wanted.

To sum up, English Africa suffers from a con-
stitutional malady ; the fact that its population is
composed of diverse races. To alleviate the bad
effects of this, it will be found necessary, in so far as
the relations between the Dutch and English are con-
cerned, to seek a modus vivendi. The question of
coloured labourers in the service of the Boers will
be the hardest to settle. As for the natives, the
inhabitants of the colony properly so called, no less
than the black populations of adjacent territories,
I suppose it w^ll be admitted to be indispensable

' IJ

CHAP, rv.]

NATAL

155

tliat they should be placed under the exclusive and
al)solute control of the Imperial Governinent.

On this subject I will quote the followinir
])assage from a recent official document,^ relatin<r,
it is true, to the islands of the Western Pacific, but
perfectly applicable to the question now before us :
' Any departure from the maxim liitherto invariably
acted upon (but not in Africa) by Her Majesty's
Grovernment, that where large bodies of natives and
a small number of whites are broujj^ht tojzether
under one (local) Government, tlieir control should
be entrusted to an autliority directly responsible to
tlie Imperial Government, and able to bear itself
impartially between conflicting interests, w^ould, we
think, be in the highest degree unfortunate. To
entrust such control to tlie legislature of any
Australian colony is, in fact, to entrust it to an
oligarchy, in which those governed (tlie blacks)
have no representation wdiatever, and which cannot
but be influenced in a greater or less degree by its
own selfish interests.' Subject to this important
reservation, the autonomy of the white communities
will not, I imagine, be interfered witli, but will be
left to them intact. Let tliem govern themselves
by all means, but not govern the blacks.

^ Report of a Commission aiipointed to inquire into the workinf^
of the Western Pacific Orders in Council. Presented to Parliament,
Feb. 1884.

^'(!

ii'V

1,'.,

I i

I'i '■ «

I I '

;

156

SOUTH

RICA

[part I,

Besides ihis constitutional malady, there are
petty ailmenttji, indispositions, and disorders. These
will call for a doctor and treatment, and the more
seldom the doctor and treatment are changed
the more probable and more prompt will be the
cure.

But the political question — that which I have
touched upon above, namely, expansion, the statu.'^
qiiOf abandonment or confederation — is paramount
to all the rest. Thanks to the wisdom of her
statesmen and the go< d sense of the nation, Eng-
land will ultimately find a solution.

You might say, br T hope you will not, What
presumption on the part of a stranger to offer an
opinion, not to say advice (which is far from my
thoughts) about oar affairs in Afrioa !

To this I will reply : What you have been
reading represents, it is true, my personal im-
pressions, but at the same time it is only the echo
of what has been told me by men who count among
the most devoted children of their mother-country,
and who are among those best qualified to judge
of the situation.

the

PART II.

NEW ZEALAND.

CHAPTER I.

THE PASSAGE.

From Capk Town to Mpxbourne, Skptember 13 to October T).
I'uoM Melbourne to the Bluffs (New Zealand), Oct. 10 to 15,

Delights and drawbacks of a voyage in the Southern Seas-
Gulls — Passengers — Distances.

On September 13, at five o'clock in the eveninfr,
tlie ' John Elder,' of the Orient Line, put to sea.
^ .. 3 the second day the monotonous sono- of
the sailors as they set the sails, has been ^riving
proof that we have readied the region of the
trade-winds. In the latitudes where the Indian
mingles with the Antarctic Ocean, westerly winds
blow throughout the year, and the icy currents
fiom the Polar Sea take tlie same direction.
It is these winds and these currents that enaljle

•1

'- !

(■

1^8

NEW ZEALAND

[pAur ir.

large steamers to cover in nineteen or twenty days
tlie 0,000 miles wliicli separate the Cape of Good
Hope from Australia. Durin</ all this voyage no land
is to be seen, or port of refuge, or coaling station.
It would be impossible to return by the same
route, for if the same (juantity of coal were con-
sumed, a speed of six niiles an hour at the outside
could be attained, and tliis would lengthen the
voyage to forty-(jne days and eight hours. No
ship could carry the amount of fuel requisite for
a higher rate of speed. In returning, therefore,
from Australia to England, you come through the
Straits of Magellan, when the state of the atmo-
sphere allows the entrance to be found, or more
generally round by Cape Horn. This Company
prefers the longer route by Aden and the lied
Sea, as the Australians, who form the majority
of the passengers, dread the great cold at the
southern extremity of America. During the war
in Egypt last year two vessels of the Orient Line
made the voyage from Australia to the Cape across
the Indian Ocean, but they were forced to de-
scend to the thirtieth parallel in order to reach
the latitude of Madagascar, and then to skirt the
eastern shore of Africa. The additional expense
of this route, which is very considerable, prevents
it from being taken in ordinary times.

CHAP. I.]

THE PASSAGE

159

Several days liave elapsed since the ' Jolm

Elder' left African waters. The weather i.^ line

but the sea roiigli. Last niglit my trunks were

cuttinj^ capers in my cabin. The atmosphere is

deli(;ious ; it bronzes and braces you, clears tlie

brain, and exliilarates like champagne. You

manage to sleep in spite of tlie rolUng, and, what is

more surprising, in spite of the screaming children.

Tlie air is chilly, but the cold is scarcely perceptibh?.

The wind of the ship being neutralised by the

westerly winds that drive us onward, a dead

calm rei}i:ns on deck. It is a sinjrulur contract

to tlie foaming of the waves and the sportive

flight of the birds that follow us — the albatross

with its stupid look, majestic carriage, and

enormous spread of wings ; the frightened gulls,

the Cape fowls, those clowns of the air who

delight in somersaults, and the sea-pigeons, which

always fly in couples. All these birds dart up

and down, describe elliptical curves, skim the

waves with the tips of their wings without

wetting their feet, and fly around over our heads.

Scattered over the ocean, they only come to land

in the summer, when they lay their eggs. At

that season the solitary shores of Australia, the

Pacific Islands, and in this ocean the desert

island of St. Paul, which we passed on our left,

and Kerguelen's Land on our right, are covered with

■^1

• 11

11(1

■

;

)
1

1 1

, i

ill

■ '

i6o

NEW ZEALAND

[part II.

millions of eggs. The birds which are accom-
panying onr ship have followed us from the Cape.
They are always the same ; tliey disappear with the
sun, it is their bedtime ; they sleep seated upon
the waves. The sailors tell us tliat at the first
break of dawn tliey rise higli enougli to see the
vessel which they left the evening before. It is
certain that they always rejoin it tw^o or three
liours after sunrise. Considering the rapid motion
of a steamer, one hardly knows which to admire
most — the distance these creatures can see or the
swiftness of their fliglit. But all is not rose-
coloured in the life of a gull. To-day some
hundreds of them were resting in groups upon
the waves, apparently exchanging ideas in familiar
conversation. It was like a movable drawing-
room filled with women all talking, when suddenly
an albatross of imposing appearance, seated in
the centre of the company, disappeared below the
whaler. His friends simultaneously took to flight.
It was a general .sauve qui pent. Poor albatross !
a sha^K had seized him.

The 'John Elder' is an excellent ship belong-
ing to the Pacific Company, and chartered for a
certain time, together with captain, officers, and
crew, by the Orient Line. Althougli there is no

i!!'::

■= K

CHAP. I.]

THE PASSAGE

i6i

live stock on board, we are provided witli excel-
lent food. Meat, rij<h, and vegetables, kept in an
ice-chamber, are reduced to a frozen state. The
Australian beef which is served to us was shipped
at Sydney in sufficiently large quantities to sup])ly
the needs of the voyai^ie out and home. It is what
is called the freezing process, and it answers ad-
mirably on board our ship.

The passengers, with few exceptions, belong to
the lower middle class. The majority are Scotch.
They are farmers, small traders, and artisans,
almost all of them men of viji'our, bearinjjj on their
brows the stamp of energy and of a conviction
that they Avill make their fortunes. When you
see the determined expression of their faces, the
sturdy arms, and healthful looks of these future
pioneers of civilisation, you can scar'-ely doubt of
their success. Their wives are of the same sort,
and the babies, to judge from the power of their
little lungs, promise well for the future. There
are also a good number of Australians returning
from a visit to the old countiy. They a])pear to
belong to the same sphere of life, aud there are
amongst them men of herculean frame. Theii-
discussions are at times very animated, but the
vivacity of their talk disturl)s but slightly the
good humour of the company. Fun also is
carried to a irreat leiiiith, and sometimes to ex-

VOL. I. M

^ii

t I

hi!

^ ].ii

l62

NEW ZEALAND

[part ir.

treiiies. Tliis practical joking, as tliey call it, may
end in fisticufls. I am told that in sucli cases it is
generally tlie beaten man who makes tlie apology
— a homage rendered to physical snperiority.
Let me add that, even tliough you may not hear
the Queen's English spoken by them, ihey never
utter a word that could make a modest woman
blush. In the midst of these rougli sons of Albion
tlie young girls run no risk, but woe to the man
who displeases the company.

In this coarse set some gentlemen are conspicuous,
and amongst them a charming young man wdiom
the doctors had sent to the Antipodes. Doctors,
I am afiaid, do not always know what they are doing
when they tear an invalid from the care of his
family, the comforts of home, and the society of
his friends, to subject him to the tedium of a long
voyage ; — the sleeplessness caused by the rolling
of the ship on a sea perpetually in motion ; the in-
different foud provided on board a large steamer
(the ' i) ohn Elder ' is quite an exception) ; the depres-
sion he will feel on arriving in a distant land, and,
finally, the sadness of the solitary life he will lead
there. It is not without heartache that I see this
handsome young fellow with his narrow shoulders,
his flat chest, his glittering eyes, his noble features
and careful dress, mix with the vigorous men who,
every day that the sea allows, devote themselves to

CHAP. 1.]

THE PASSAGE

163

athletic sports so popular amongst the English.
Then, overcome by fatigue, he sinks down and
stretches himself upon the deck. The perspiration
stands in beads upon his forehead, and is dried
by tlie icy wind. Tliis is not the treatment he
requires ; and yet I have met on my voyages with
several invalids condemned to this de])ortation by
doctors, who may be very clever about medicine,
but who know nothing, exce])t from books, about
these distant voyages across oceans.

I am much amused by a young Yankee. When
he wants to make anyone's acquaintance, he goes
up and asks him : ' What is your name ? ' He is
nicknamed accordingly ' What's your name.' In
tlie little smoking-room he is to be seen perched
in a marvellous manner between two tables, his
back resting upon a bench. This is, or rather
was, an American custom which does not strike
those who have travelled in the United States as
anythinji; remarkable. Now it is jToinj? out of
fashion. This young man, who is innnensely
popular, has an open countenance, a tnrned-up nose,
and a bold but not impudent expression, lie talks
loud and with a nasal twang, relates spicy anecdotes,
never coarse and often witty ; is not wanting in
humour, and, in the rare intervals during which he
remains silent, always wdiislles the same air. Pnj-
perly speaking, far from being vulgai', he is rather

M 2

iii'l

Ci'
t

?!'

!l!

k*i

rM:

1 .i 'it

164

NEW ZEALAND

[part ir.

clistinguishetl after his fashion. Tlie American demo-
crat seeks to become the equal of his superiors by
liimself ascending the social ladder ; the European
democrat by dragging tliem down to his level. The
one is spurred by emulation, the other by jealousy.

My great resource is an old Scotch missionary,
I believe a Presbyterian, now entrusted with the
cure of souls in a considerable iwn in New South
Wales. He has given me a sni. 11 book to read of
which he is the author. The title alone tells more
than volumes : ' Clu'istian Missions to wrong Places,
amonjT wrom; Paces and in wromj Hands.' It is
a very curious work. The author endeavours to
prove, with the aid of official statistiCL^ hat apr.rt
from the black races of Africa and India and the
yellow races of Cliina and Japan, all the other
coloured populations are ra])idly beconnng extinct,
and will have completely disappeared in the course
of the twentieth century. He concludes by saying
that one ought to give up a task doomed to be
fruitless ; in other words, suppress the missions
maintained in these countries and employ them
elsewhere.

I have been present with several others at a
discussion between two passengers. According to

CHAP. I.]

THE PASSAGE

:6-

1
t

*'!■

, 1

. 1

at a

one of these, the ' division of property (in England)
is only a questior.. of time. The present owners
will be left in the enjoyment of their lands. Their
sons will have these reduced to half, their grand-
sons will he completely dispossessed. The Nihilists
are in the right. As to the assassinations com-
mitted by them, this is a delicate and complex
question deserving study.' There have always
been people who talked in this strain, but what
apr ?ared to me new was to hear these doctrines
set forth naively, simply, and boldly by a man of
some position, on board a large English steamer.
Twenty, nay ten years ago t)iis would have been
utterly impossible ; the public, if I am not very
much mistaken, would never have tolerated such
language. And }et people say that Old England
does not make progress ! Why, she advances with
giant strides !

It i'=5 not only by over-lively discussions and too
frequent libations that the monotony of the voyage
is relieved. It appears that the ,iir of the ocean
inclines people to tender sentiments. And in this
particular the middle-class Anglo-Saxons amongst
whom I am thrown show' a sincerity, a gravity, and
an earnestness that touch me. Two peo{)le make
acquaintance upon deck, they meet in the passages.

3^:

■«'

:J .'

!■-'»

' :<!

! 1

■

1 '^

f ^

1 66

NEW ZEALAND

[part II.

A few days are sufficient to kindle mutual love.
These flirtations go on under the eyes of every-
body, and neither shock nor astonisli anyone. All
know tliat the nuptial benediction will take place
the very day of landing or the day after.

However, if morality is to be defended every-
one lends his hand. A gentleman, known to be
married, having taken it into his head to court a
young girl among the second-class passengers, and
attempted to enter her room during the night,
was seized upon by some of the other passengers
and pretty roughly handled. It Avas only with
great difficulty that ihe officer on watch succeeded
in rescuimr this Don Juan from the hands of the
guardians of public decency. However, the follow-
ing morning, when the culprit reappeared, with
his head bandaged, amongst chose who had so
roughly chastised him, they received him kindly.
Justice had been done, and there is mercy for
every sinner.

niii

I It

This long voyage draws near its end. It is the
most solitary route traversed by steamers. On the
way from San Francisco to Japan you run at least
the chance of meeting the ship belonging to the
same Company on its return voyage. Here,
nothing of the kind is possible. The last steamer

"•I

CHAP. I.]

THE PASSAGE

167

j)receded us a moutli ago, and tlic next one will
follow us in a month's time. During the whole
l)assage you are a small black .si)eck ruiniin<'
towards your destination at im average I'ate of thi-ee
hundred miles a day, in a hue somewhere about the
45tli degree of South latitude, which you will n(^t
leave until you approach Australia. Sailing vessels
braving the tenipests and the intense cold of the
Southern Ocearv go as far as the 50th de<a-ee in
search of fresher winds and narrower meridians.

I have never had a pleasanter passage. The
sky was always of a clear grey, turning into
pearl when, in the afterr.oon, a pale sun pierced
the haze and bathed the ship in its tender light.
I have passed my twenty days, whicli have iled
away iiko a dream, ensconced frcnn mornin<' to
night in my armchair, wrapped in a sheepskin
from Kaffraria, and devouring a library of btjoks.
Not one moment of etinai, simply a feeling of perfect
health. Thus have I crossed the immense distance
separating the ("ape of Good Hoj)e from the capital
of Victoria, the meridian of Vienna fro' 1 that of the
region of Kamschatka !

t ii

I 't
I 1

^'i'

I arrived at Melbourne on the oth of October
and ]Mt to sea again on the 10th, and on the ]'5th,
towards eveninu", after a stormy crossincf in a small

■f

if!

i68

NEW ZEALAND

[part ir.

colonial steamer, T saw tlie <,naiits, covered with ice
and snow, which shield from the never-ceasing
fury of the elements the great Sv)uth or Middle
Island of New Zealand.

Our vessel lay to in a bay of the little Pilots-
island, and the next morning we were set down safe
and well at the Blufl's, a small port at the sonthern
( xtremity of New Zealand. I was received there
by the mayor of Invercargill and a young Oxonian,
Mr. F. Jackson, who kindly undertook to conduct
me across the colony.

1 69

CHAPTER ir

SOUTH ISLAND.

0€TOBf:R 15 TO OCTOBKU 24, 1883,

Invercargill Lake Wakatipu— Dunedin— Christchurch—
A station in the interior.

The Blufls, a simple <.n'oup of a few houses, is con-
nected by a railway with Invcrcargill, the southern-
most town of the globe. ^ The mayor, from the
moment I saw him, attracted my attention. He
looks hke what he is, a self-made man, one of
those to whom no difficulties are insurmountable.
By his calm, simple, modest, and withal dignified
demeanour ; by tlie expression of his face, by his
penetrating look, you recognise at once the man of
sterling worth. He came from England, first to Aus-
tralia, and dug for gold at Ballarat and Bendigo
without finding any. In New Zealand he has been
more fortunate. At Otago he saved enough to buy
a small farm, and in course of time was able to set up
his sons as tanners. He himself, I believe, is now

1 4G° latitude S,

y .

170

NEW ZEALAND

[part II,

a shnoiii.ikor. While talkiuLT to me of tlio political
state of the island, with a clearness of understand-
iiig not confused by ill-dijxested reading'', he was
exaniinin^i; attentively the cut and leathei- of my
boots, and recoLniised at once their Parisian make.
He then drew from his pocket a printed paper
<i;ivin;j; an account of a lecture on nmnicipal (ques-
tions which he had delivered at some nieetini;. This
short statement was written simply, clearly, and cor-
rectly ; there was no trace of style or finish, but it
was evident that the author thoroughly understood
the sid:)ject he was dealing witli. lie showed me
with a smile his hands, which bore marks of the
tools of his trade. This mayor is a type of the men
you sometimes meet with in the English colonies
— men who, though living by handiwork, play the
leading part in the district. They are, al)ove all,
citizens without being politicians, but yet with
a bit of the statesman about them. However
humble their position, they exercise an obscui-e
and always unknown, but active, often important
and even sometimes decisive influence on the march
of events which constitute the history of their
new country. Chance rarely favours you with a
glance at these anonymous books, which open out
to you new vistas, throw light on complex questions,
and could serve as commentaries on the Lives of
Plutarch.

CHAP. II.]

SOUTH ISLAND

171

We (Irovo tlirouL'li the yoiinfr town of Invor-
rar^all in a carriaffo l)ol<)ii<4in<^* to the nuiiii('i])ality.
Straight streets, I');) feet wide, and of seen^.mgly
interminable lengtli, are waiting for lionses to line
them, Bnt the centre is already till, d witli
wooden dwellin«r.s, roofed with coiTnLiated iron.
Pnblic ed dices, amongst which stnno- out the
lihi'ary called the Atheiueum, display their richly
ornamented facades. The inhabitants, Justly proud
of, these niagniliceut moiuiments, look \\]Mn\ them
as a token of the future ])rospei'ity of their grow-
ing town, destined to become the great centre of
export for the southern part of South Island.

An icy rain, and a wintl that cuts our faces to
the l>one, remind us that we are near the I'olar
Sea.

The Government has kindly offered us all sorts
of facilities. Nt. the least of the.se is a sahxm
carriage, and a free pass on all the lines of the two
islands. A special train takes my young com-
panion and myself to the southern extremity of the
famous Lake Wakatipu.

We traverse rapidly a broken, treeless plain,
partly cultivated in the environs of the town,
but changing into pasturage farther off. Patches
of yellow grass alternate with others of green.
All around us are hedires of trorse covered with
light orange-yellow flowers. Ever and agaia

If. '

u '

I I

i '

ill

^M|

1 <n

J%>.

o >;>.sii^.

IMAGE EVALUATION
TEST TARGET (MT-S)

1.0

128

i;^ 1^

R^H

2.2

I.I

Hf 1^ 12.0

IL25 i 1.4

I:
i

Photographic

Sciences

Corporation

<.
^

,.<>

.^/

23 WEST MAIN STREET

WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580

(716) 872-4503

,r^'

172

NEW ZEALAND

[part it.

ilH

'II

% \

our train disturbs flocks of slieep, which are
feeding along tlie line. The kind is yellow, the
sky grey, the chain of the Moonlight Hills, which
we are approaching, bluish-black. Past Athol
station the country becomes quite uncultivated
and wild. Save a few herdsmen's huts, all built
after the same pattern, there is not a trace of any
human dwellinf^. Before reaching? the shores of
tiie lake, the railroad winds its way through a
labyrinth of moraines, which the neighbouring
glaciers have deposited in the course of centuries.

We reach Kingstown about one o'clock. This
town, so called, consists of a small inn, another
house, and the station, which forms the terminus
of the railway.

The sky has suddenly cleared. The wind is
still cold, but the sun has become intensely hot.

A small steamboat is fjoing to take us to
Queenstown, about midway between the two extre-
mities of this long and comparatively narrow sheet
of water. Its sides, consisting of treeless mountains,
shrouded in a whitish-yellow mist, rise gradually to
a height of 5,000 or 6,000 feet. At a place called
Halfway Bay is seen a narrow gorge flanked with
])erpendicular rocks. The transparent shadows
of the dark clouds passing by, the greenish-brown
boulders tinged with yellow, the dark-blue water
of the lake, the opal sky with light fleecy

CHAP. II.]

SOUTH ISLAND

1/3

cloiicls of wliitc, formed a landsrape tliat seemed
to me entirely new. I liave seen notliin<r like
it in the Alps, the Pyrenees, the Caucasus, or
the Cordillerns. The whol'^ was stern, <rran(l
fantastic, and charmin<j in spite of its monotony,
varied, l.owever, by the clianging reflections of
the sunlight.

The great distance of the mountain-toj)s from
the shores of the lake that bathes their feet, pro-
duces two optical effects. The peaks appear at
first sight less high than in reality they are, but
the gradual slope of these giants allows the snow
to remain u})on them. There are scarcely
any bare rocks to be seen. A white shroud
covers these Al])s of New Zealand, while their
feet are wrai)ped in a i)laid woven of tiissod;
the yellow grass of the country. This eflect is
very singular. Were it not for the burning sun,
you would almost think yourself in an Arctic
country.

Other o])tical delights await us at Queens-
town. In the space of a few hours, by one of
those sudden changes in the weather which are
peculiar to these islands, a summer's evening has
followed on a winter's day. The lake is silver-
gilt, a dull gold liglitly silvered. At the farthest
end of the landscape, towards the north-west, and
forming, as it were, a frame to this brilliant mirror.

li ■

I I

•♦

"^saSt"., ^-J..iJ5.;fc-

174

NEW ZEALAND

[part n.

the jajrged outline of tlie dark mountains stands
out clear cut against a sky wliich is orange
below, then ])ink, and liiglier up Ijriglit blue. The
intermediate tints defy description. Here and
tliere small flakes of blackish mist, edged witli
light grey, still mark tlie outlines of tlie crests
from wliich tliey have just detaclied tliemselves.
Overliead, beneatli a dark -blue sky, pink clouds
are floating, shaped like a shower of rockets.
Then night comes on, and the full moon rises above
the glaciers. It is the second scene in the pyro-
technical display on which, comfortably seated in
our armchairs, we gaze with admiration through
the large pointed window of our drawing-room.
Satiated with the charms of nature the famished
travellers wait impatiently for dinner. It is very
good and well served. This excellent hotel, first
estabhshed by a German, has been and is now
nuinaged to perfection by his widow.

The town that bears this name is very ])retty.
It owes its origin to the gold mines of Otago. In
its best days it reckoned six thousand inhabitants,
reduced at present to eight hundred, most of
wliom are Irish. But it is not the less prosperous
for that, and this new prosperity is more solid
than that which went before, being due, not to the
gold mines which in time are exhausted, but to
the cliarms of nature and climate, which reproduce

CHAP, ir.]

SOUTH ISLAND

175

tlioinsolvos, and attract periodically, during jsum-
nier time, a crowd of visitors.

!' f
I

Ortohpr IG. — We ])assed the wliole day in
visiting the u|)])cr part of the lake, which pene-
trates right into the lofty chain of mountains,
that formidable barrier against which the fury of
the ocean spends itself in vain. These are the
giants called Humboldt, Cosmos, and Earnslaw.
The last, and loftiest, is nearly 10,000 feet in
height. Except these white peaks, all is grey of a
light or yellowish hue. What you miss is the exu-
berant vegetation of those Swiss valleys wliose
rural charms contrast so well with the severe and
imposing character of the glaciers that tower
above. There are, indeed, a few wooded spots, but
the general aspect is bare. No culture is visible,
nor trace of human habitation, except at the end
of the lake, at Glenochie and Kinloch, where two
or three settlers seem to vegetate poorly enough.
Their history is that of the immense majority of
gold-seekers. Tiiey liP e failed to find any gold,
and have turned farmers. In the hollows of the
mountains there are, I am told, some good houses
and herdsmen's huts. The former serve as a
lodging for the squatters wdien they conxe to visit
their stations.

;? .

'*! ■

^. ..■«»&.:

MHM

176

NKVV ZEALAND

[PABT IT.

Here also tlie foot of tlie niouiitains is covered
witli tlie yellow tussock wliicli tlie sheep feed on,
if it lias not already been eaten by the rabbits.
Tliese animals, imported from Eiifrland, have be-
come one of the pests of New Zealand, and the
Government, in spite of costly efforts, have hitherto
failed to exterminate them.

The colonists are, and have reason to be, very
proud of tlieir Lake Wakatipu. But they are
wrong, it seems to me, in praising its beauty too
highly, and ranking it above the lakes of Switzer-
la.id and Upper Austria. Such comparisons and
exaggerated j)raise do more harm than good
to the object sought to be glorified. lii the
numerous accounts of this lake which I have
read, excepting that by Anthony Trollope, the
wriiers, out of complaisance to the people of
the country, re-echo their opinicm of its merits.
Coming to it as I did, with the im])ression derived
from these brilliant and over-coloured descriptions,
I am bound to confess that the reality did not
(piite come up to my expectations. What I miss
is a foreground to the j)icture — vegetation, man
and his dwellings.

October 17. — A long day's journey by train.
The country is everywhere the same ; — pasturages

CHAP. II.]

SOUTH ISLAND

"i^n

surrounded witli licdges of jrorse in flower, covered
Avitli yellow and ^n-een lierbaiie, and flecked witli
white spots, the sheep that s(,'aniper ofl'as the train
approaches ; — on the horizon, hiirh mountains,
yellow at the foot and wreathed in white from tlie
middle to the top ; — herdsmen's huts, and here
and there small houses all cast in tlie same mould.
With this a jxrey sky, and rarely a ray of sun-
shine. Alter leaving Crichton station tlie country
becomes, better cultivated and more inhabited.
The farmers' houses are surrounded by euca-
lyptus-trees imported from Australia, and ])lease
the eye, not, indeed, by the charm of their
hackneyed style of arcliitecture, but by the air
of prosperity which they share with tlieir owners.
Tlie people you meet at the railway stations pro-
duce the same imju-ession.

At seven o'clock in the evening the train
reaches Dunedin. Tlie mayor and two notabilities
of the town, Mr. Cargill and j\Ir. Kussell, informed
beforehand of onr arrival, kindlv receive us at the
station and find us quarters at the Fernhill Club.

Dunedin^ October 18. — The big coach in which
the mayor takes us for a drive through the town
to show us the sigh.s, was built here, and gained
the first prize at the Sydney Exhibition. Dunedin

VOL. I. X

11'

{i lit

' If'.
.i - "

'ii

.=«-^

..jgw* JiuL yyj g iiipif

1 1

! ;

I7«

NEW ZEALAND

[part ir.

is proud of it, and has reason to be so. This
youthful community, scarce born so to speak,
and already become tlie most important com-
mercial centre of South Island, is <rrowing vif>;ibly
from day to day, embarkin<5 in all sorts of enter-
prises and surmountinjr all kinds of difficulties.
Each of these communities is like an infant Her-
cules who stran<^les serpents in liis cradle.

The town spreads out over hills, descends into
little valleys, and finally is lost in the foliage
of gardens, groves, and trees imported from
abroad — the oak of England, the eucalyptus of
Australia, the pines of California and Norfolk
Island. The aspect of the streets, broad, long,
straight, and flanked by wooden houses roofed
with corrugated iron, reminds one of Australia and
America more than England. But the people
whom we meet here are unquestionably the sons
of the old country, and, if my impression is correct,
the Scotch element ])redominates. There are also
a good number of Germans. The latter are well
satisfied with their relations with the Anglo-
Saxons.

Several fine churches, a large Eoman Catholic
cathedral now in course of construction, which the
bishop Mgr. Moran, is kind enough to show us, a
convent and a very })retty cliapel of the Sisters, a
museum and schools and various other buildings.

CHAP. II.]

SOUTH ISLAND

1/9

attest tlio ;jrowing wealtli, tlie reputation, and tlie
bold aspirations of tliis youthful city, wlncli one
day perhaps will be the commercial capital of New
Zealand.

The environs, a medley of green hills and clifTs,
with little bays and with the sea beyond, form u
charming framework to this scene.

Cln'istchnrch^ October 19-23. — We leave Dune-
din at eight o'clock by train and pass near Port
Chalmers, the port of Dunedin ; some three-
masters are here afloat, and little steamers come
and go. Sea and shore are full of life.

The railway keeps along the coast, following the
bends of the clifl's along precipices from fifty to
sixty feet in depth. This })lace of ill repute ins|)ires
the people of Dunedin with a ' blue fear ; ' lu nee
the name of Blueskins which has been given to it.
Those who are prudent drive by carriage to one
of tlie next stations, where tlie railway ceases to
inspire such terrors. Our train continues to follow
the coast-line, passes over low hills, traverses green
pasturages striped witli hedges of yellow gorse,
startles innumerable sheep, puts down and takes
up at tlie stations, which are always crowded,

N 2

i !

i- •'•]

i8o

NEW ZEALAND

[part 11.

iuiinl)cr.s of pnPSGn<rcrs, men and women, well-fed,
clean and tidy, and all wearin^i a prosperous and
respectable air.

Farther on, tlie line crosses near its nioutli the
river Wait aki, which separated the former province
of Ota^'o from that of Canterl)ury. On the western
bank we a])])roached hiLi'li mountains, entirely
covered witli snow.'"^ At eiijlit o'clock in the
evening we entered the station at Chiist(!hurch,
where we were received by two Germans, the
mayor of the town, and Dr. Julius von Ilaast.
These gentlemen took us to the club which bears
the name of the city, and is one of the best known
in New Zealand.

Nothing can exceed the good management and
comfort of the clubs in the Enirlish colonies. If
you have ])reviously aimounced your arrival, your
friends write down your name and engage a small
bedroom furnished with an excellent bed and every
other requisite. The cooking is always good, if
not perfect, and in tlie reading-i'oom you find not
only the local papers, which are not very interest-
ing to a stranger, but also tlie leading Englisli
journals. The telegrams are posted up regularly
as thej'' arrive. The members consist of tlie
notables of the town, and their friends who live in

2 Mount Cook, the hif,'hcst point of the chain, is 13,200 feet
above the level of the sea.

cnvr. II.]

SOUTH ISLAND

iSl

tho couiitry, and stop Iktc on tlioir way.''' IMie
liotels are not mo well spoken of. I am no judiie
on tliis point, for, thanks to tlie elubs and to llio
hospitality I enjoyed at oflicial or private houses, I
never put up at an inn.

The mayor ^dves up liis mornin^f to me, and we
visit the town. A native of Electoral llesse, lie
came here as a baker's boy ; he rose to be a farmer,
then a miller, and now, tojxethcr with his family, is
enjoyinji the fruit of his lal)ours. Notwithstandini^
his foreign oriLnn, he has had the honour of beinjx
elected chief of a municipality composed entirely of
Entdish. This seems to me a fact of some sij^niili-
cance, as regards the relations between the colonists
of dillerent nationalities.

Situated in the midst of a lar<i6 phun, and
separated on the south-east by steep mountains
from Lyttelton, its seaport, Christchurch, though
built in the rectangular style so common in the
colonies, has a decidedly English appearance. The
Anglican cathedral, an unfinished Gothic edifice,
occupies the centre. Nearly all the houses are
built of wood, with their inner walls plastered.
They are said to be very comfortable to live in.
Only a few of them have two upper stories ; most
consist simply of a ground-floor, surrounded, faced,

^ The prices are extrciuely moderate ; ten or twelve shillings a
day, food and lodging included.

,,i

^J.i

^'1

182

Ni:\V ZEALAND

[I'ART II.

or flanked by a litllc <r.'ir(l(Mi, or at least by some
fine trees. The university is an iniposinjr ediliee,
of which the hall reminds one of Oxford and Cam-
l)i'id;_^e ; alto^rether, these two seats of learning; seem
to have stamped their likeness on this town, whose
inhabitants arc Justly lamed for their relinement
of manners and eidture of mind. There are several
ehurehes and schools and other buildings of archi-
tectural distinction.

The chief stir centres a])out the nei^fhboni'hood
of the cathedral, but a short distance oil' the
streets chan<re to louff avenues bordered with trees
or quickset hed<^es. This luxury of foliage forms
one of the charms of a town where, some thirty
years ago, not a tree was to be seen. The farther
we go, the more hidden in vegetation are the
houses. The town becomes a gai'den ; a few steps
more we are in the country. But for the Ti, still
visible here and there, but already in very scanty
lunnbers, you would think yourself in England.
Here, in the suburbs, all animaticm has ceased.
You meet uo one but nursery -maids with children ;
the men are in their warehouses or at their schools ;
the women are busy at their household afiairs ; the
children alone are enjoying their freedom, which
ap])ears to have no limits. They stare at you
calmly, with an air half quizzical, half precocious.
You can see that nothing astonishes them. Nil

cn\p. II.]

SOUTH ISLAND

1S3

adiiiliuiri is one of tlie traits of democratic ami
colonial society.

'!'

It is Sunday. I find the Konian Catlutllc
cathedral Idled with worshippers, nearly all of
them Irish. After Mass, the j)riest told me that,
eighteen years ago, his parish consisted of sixteen
souls ; to-day there are live thousand. This ra|)id
increase is due, not to conversions, hut to the im-
migration of Irish. If by a missionary we under-
stand one who spreads the Christian religion, the
Irishman and his wife are, so far as the ])ropagation
of the lioman Catholic religion is concerned, the
first and foremost missionaries in Christendom.

J3ut Christchurch, especially this afternoon,
bears the mark of the Churt^h of England — a quiet
Sunday afternoon. In the morning the bells call
the faithful to worship ; towards evening all is
solitude and silence. Save some men and women
in their Sunday clothes, who are on their way to
evening service, there is not a soul afoot under the
shade of these fine trees. I take a stroll alone in
Worcester Street, and I seem to be in the outskirts
of some cathedral town of Old England.

This illusion is repeated at every step. I am
constantly asking myself whether I am really at the
Antipodes, or whether, by 'some magical process,

I -i)

■I

1 84

NEW ZEALAND

[part II.

I have suddenly been taken back to Europe. As
for natives, I have not yet seen one. I shall see
some, they tell me, in Xortli Island ; but the fact is,
they are disappearing.

Why are these poor Maoris disappearing?
The reply is, first, in consequence of the adoption
of the European dress. No one has compelled tliem
to adopt it, but, like the Japanese, they love to ape
us. Formei'ly they had nothing but their blankets
to cover them, and wlien they went back to their
homes tliey cast tliese aside and huddled naked
round tlie fire. On going out again tliey resumed
them. Now, since they liave taken to dressing
like Europeans, they never leave their clotlies,
not even at night-time, and so, wlien tliey go out
of doors in the mornings, they catch cold and die of
pulmonary complaints. About the mines, where
Europeans abound, the women contract diseases
unknown beibre the whites came. They do not
know how to treat them, and many of them die
miserably. The cliildrcn are born with tlie germ
of the disease. And lastly, tliere are the ravages
caused by alcoholic liquors.

Cook found in tliese regions only birds, not a
single quadruped. During liis visit here some rats
and pigs escaped from his vessels. Since tlien, bees
have been imported, which consume what the birds
used to feed upon, and cause them to disappear.

CHAP. II.]

SOUTH ISLAND

l8^

In tlie Museum, of wliich Dr. Yon Ilaast is tlie
ibiinder and director, there are birds of a kind
very connnon only ten years aj^'o, and novvr be-
come extremely rare ; others, like tlie Moa^ have
completely disappeared. The sole survivor is the
Ken, a green parrot, the scourge and terror of
the poor sheep ; it fastens u})on their backs and
devours their loins. On the shores of Lake Wak-
atipu, and in other places, it kills upwards of ten
per cent, of them.

The flora also, like the animal kingdom, is
perishing by contact with the whites. The cattle
and sheep, imported in the first instance from Eng-
land, and now reared in ever-increasing multitudes,
eat down the young plants before they have had
time to scatter their seed ; they destroy also the
brushwood which protected the roots of the large
trees ; the wind now pierces the forests and dries
up the ground, and the trees and other plants, thus
deprived of the needful moisture of the soil, decay
and die.

The Maoris know the fate that awaits them.
The yellow native grass, or tiis,^ock, dies away when
once the green English grass is planted on the same
soil. Hence their saying, ' Green grassy English,
tussock Maori.' The men, animals, and plants of
the country are disappearing, to make way for
men, animals, and plants* imported from Europe.

Hi I

! i

r,i

Ij..

1 86

NEW ZEALAND

[part ri.

I ! 1

This metamorphosis is evident at a glance; it is
plain tliat a new England is being formed, -while
the Maoi'i, tlie Moa^ and tlie Ti are becoming, im-
perceptibly but rapidly, tilings of the past, a fable
the very existence of wdiicli will perhaps be dis-
puted by future generations of Anglo-Saxon de-
scent. A celebrated German historian has striven
to prove tliat tlie kings of Eome are but a myth ;
why should not some learned professor of Christ-
church declare, in future ages, that the Maori was
a fabulous being of prehistoric times ?

This afternoon there is a procession of boats on
the Avon, a small watercourse which creeps peace-
fully between weeping-willows, gardens, and country
houses. Ladies, young and old, simply dressed,
fill the windows and balconies, and the men crowd
the river banks. It is a rural spectacle, which
transports one in fancy to the venerable Alma
Mater of the old country.

Islum, the property of Mr. Harper, the son of
the Archbishop of Christchurch, is a little gem.
House, garden, stream, flowers, trees, and lawn,
to say nothing of the amiable owners, form a
thoroughly English picture.

My young Oxonian friend and I have made
here some very pleasant acquaintances. Mr. Justice

CHAP. II.]

SOUTH ISLAND

187

Jolinston, Mr. Tancred, one of tlie last honourable
Eniilisli veterans of the Austrian army, the wives of
tliose ixentlenien, and Mr. Wynn Williams, have
lived for many years in South Island, and have pre-
served tlie ideas and manners of a society which
is passing away like the Maori and tlie Moa. Dr.
von Ilaast has been a very useful friend to me.
lie is the wortliy successor of an Austrian savant,
Professor Iloclistetter, whose scientific luoours have
done mucli to make known tlie resources of New
Zealand, where he has left kindly and enduring
remembrances.

Early in the morning we start for Waitavi, the
terminus of the line intended to connect Clirist-
church with Nelson.

We approach the double chain of lofty moun-
tains which form the backbone of South Island. The
morning is fine and the air fresh. The sun is
gilding the summits, white with fresh-fallen snow,
and diffusing rosy tints on the base of these giants.
Around us is a plain, striped with hedgerows of
orange-yellow gorse ; around us are the yellow-grey
tuswrk, the green English grass, and the sheep,
who fly at our approach.

The owner of the ' run,' whose guests we are to
be, awaits us at the ^ic.tion, lie is a man about

> :

I :'t

' i

-1

■w

^•J^^li^---.

/^s^

-^ _;i::^.i---'%ifi*'_:

1 88

NEW ZEALAND

[part it.

iifty years of afje, tlie type of a gentleman of tlie
old scliool. lie has served in the army of tlie
East India Company. His wife is an Englisliwoman ;
their children are Maoris, as they say liere in jest,
tliat is to say, born in tlie island. He owns 7(),0()()
sheep, and, consequently, is what they call a big
squatter. He has bought, and possesses as freehold,
the ground wliich he cultivates.

This run extends over a plain surrounded by
hills and watered by two rivers. From the to})
of an isolated mound an imposing view is gained
of the loftiest mountains of tlie island. This
morning, as we left Christchurch, they looked like
clouds creeping above tlie horizon ; now we seem
to be able to touch them with our hands. The
scenery is beautiful, but gives us a feeling of
loneliness. A man wdio lives here must have a
lirst-rate opinion of his own powers, for he has no
other resources to reckon on.

The house, wliich stands at the foot of the
mound, and in the midst of a plantation of firs,
oaks, and poplars, is small but w^ell furnished, and
extremely neat.

Our host's daufifhter and a friend of hers,
two young ladies of perfect manners, served the
dinner which they had prepared under the direc-
tion of the mistress of the house. Here all work
with their hands. The difficulty, often the im-

CHAP. II.]

SOUTH ISLAND

189

possibility, of procuring domestic servants suffices
to explain this feet. But there are other and
deeper reasons. In communities created in great
part by gendemen, who have since been ousted
by men of tlie people, it is evident that tlie
latter must give the cliaracter to tliis new societv.
Tliey will not be long, to judge from all appear-
ances, in ad()|)ting, wdth their newly acquired
wealtli, tlie tastes of the u])per classes. T' "y will
then be called nouvoiux riches, but little b^' httle
they will appreciate the leisure that wealth confers,
and Xew Zealand society of the next century will
perhaps, in some respects, resemble tlie society
of our old Europe. But, in the meantime, you see
here on all sides people who work with tlieii- hands.
Tliose among them wdio have come from the ranks
of the aristocracy or the gentry, retain more or
less the tone of mind, the traditions, and the
manners of their class. Manual labour never
degrades a man. Every year, on a certain day,
the Emperor of China drives a plough himself.
The Emperor of Brazil, in tlie j)resence of his
suite and the loungers of Rio de Janeiro, when
going on board his yacht or stej)ping into the
railway train, carries his own ])ag and ])lai(l.
It is a lesson which he wislies to trive to his
white subjects, in whose eyes manual lal)our is a
thing lit only for the blacks and degrading to the

!
>

I* I

( ■

liTiii

■It

1 90

NEW ZEALAND

[part it.

whites. Don Pedro II. desires to re-establish tlie
dignity of labour, which has naturally fallen into
disre})ute in a land of slaves. Here the gentlemen
who labour in the fields or watch the herds are
not afraid of stooping to such work. They fancy,
perhaps, they are ennobling it by their condescen-
sion, but, in fact, the honour is reciprocal. They
bear, indeed, on their horny hands the marks left by
handling the spade, and on their brows the tanning
of the sun when the day is spent in clearing the
bush or driving cattle. But that does not pre-
vent them, after leaving the fields or their sheds,
from tidying themselves and being admitted to
the table of the most eminent men in the colony.
' Look,' said my host to me, during a walk over his
estate, ' look at tliese two men, real gentlemen, as
you can see by their bearing more than by tlieir
dress. They are "croppers." What is called
" cropping " is this. The owner of a station lets out
at a very low rent, and for a couple of years, a
piece of waste land to a man who engages to
clear it and sow it with wheat. After the two
years the owner resumes possession, replaces the
wheat with English grass, and thus turns the land
into pasturage. If the cropper, who should have
a horse and the necessary stock of tools, is active
and sober, and is not unlucky in regard to the
weather and the price of corn, he usually makes in

CHAP. II.]

SOUTH ISLAND

191

the course of these two years a net profit of fiom
800/. to 1,000/., aiicl, going on in tliis way, lie is
able in seven or eight years to put together enough
money to buy a small station for himself; but
of course only on condition that he works with
his owm hands. If he has to employ hired labourers,
he is bound to fail'

Behind a hedge we saw lying, half hidden in
the tall grass, two men of anything but attractive
appearaane. I congratiriated myself on not having
met theiu alone. My guide said to me, ' These
are "^ Sundowners," who wait till sunset before
presenting themselves at a station (the abode
of a farmer or squatter) to ask for lodging and a
supper, which are always given at nightfall, but
inexorably refused if the sun has not yet sunk
below the horizon.'

At some distance from the house stand the cattle-
sheds and the places set apart for sheep-shearing.
This is an important event of the year, and begins
with the first hot weather, in about a month from
now. Our host employs a hundred and twenty men
at this work, wdiich lasts six weeks. The shearers,
thirty-six in number, receive a ])ound sterlinrr a
day. Everyone takes his meals at the station.
We found there the cook, an Italian Swiss,
already busy in scouring his saucepans. In the
master's house it is his wife and daughters who

)

I:
t

i
I '

•4

a
r

\.i

(

*ii

. fA

192

NEW ZEALAND

[part II.

do the cookiiifT. In tlic slicds tlic workmen are
served by a man cook. Is it not curious ? Why,
tliey are tliere to sliear the slieep, and not to roast
them.

I saw some maiznificent animals, all of them
bred from merino shec]) bouj^ht in Saxony. The
price ])aid i'or rams is enormous.

Wliat a lonely life is this of tlie squatters !
The railroads in course of construction will lessen,
it is true, its inconveniences, its privations, and its
dangers ; but it requires no little courage to esta-
blish one's household in the deptli of these soli-
tudes, far removed from all assistance, and deprived
of all the resources of wliat is termed society. And
yet they get used to tliis kind of life, tliey end
])V lovinjx tlie vast expanses, the struufiiles with
savage nature, and it is witli reluctance, if ever
tliey leave it, tliat they return to the bosom of
civilised life.

■ »

193

CHAPTER III.

I I

* iH

NORTH ISLAND.

October 25 to NovEMnER 12, 1883.

"Wellington— Picton— Nelson— Now Plymouth— Kawhia—
Auckland— The Hot Lakes— Political Surveys.

It was at nightfall, on board a small steamer, that
we left Port Lyttelton, situated about seven miles
from Christchurch. Daybreak found us at tlie
entrance of Cook's Strait. The memory of this le^'en-
dary person is never absent from my thouirhts
during my cruise in these parts. I am astonished
at the number of lands he was the first to see
and reveal to the world ; the fabulous and pre-
viously unknown seas he traversed, the difficulties
and dangers he encountered. In the New Zea-
lander's imagination this hero of the sea has already
been enthroned among the gods. He is a veiled
Olympian deity, shrouded from view, but survivin
in the popular mind.

In front of us come out, as if suspended in the
VOL. I. ^y

(r
n

I ',f?l

i -11

U '

L-''! '

I'll

i 1

■ .,i

(

' 1 <

1 >

J.'

T94

NEW ZEAI.AND

[part II,

air, tlie lofty inoimtaiiiH of Kaikora." At tlieir feet
lies a labyriiitli of small, irrt'^iiilar hills, with no ve<fL'-
tation save ])atohes of yellow jj^rass. It is a Fdtd
JIon/atKi, a kaleidoscope ; the (colours meet, bleiul,
and detach themselves, and if you turn your eyes
from the restless, foaming, and inhospitable levels
of the deep, and lift them gradually to the moun-
tains, you pass from sallron ])ink to dark blue, to
azure blue, to pale blue, and you stop, as one
entranced, before the glacier-peaks which, under
the first rays of tiie sun, stand out like diamonds
against a sky of pearl. In the opposite direction you
make out the low-lying shores of North Island. For
picturesqueness, with all deference to the fanatics of
Lake Wakatipu, it is the most striking and beautiful
scene that I have yet witnessed in New Zealand.

Wellington, where we land at noon, lies inside
a small bay ; consequently there is no open sea,
but the appearance of a lake framed in with
lands partly in a state of cultivation, partly closed
with virgin forest. There is a broad street,
but one which, strange to say, is not laid out by
rule and line. It runs along the low hills dotted
with houses and little gardens. It is a pretty
little town, built entirely of wood, on account

'In South Island, at the southern entrance of Cook's Strait the
peak of Kaikora rises to a height of 9,700 feet above the sea, and
that of Looker-On to 8,300.

CHAl'. HI.]

NORTH ISLAND

195

of tlie fivquency of cartlKiuakcs. Perhaps the
t!|)ithL*t 'little' will wound the siijiceptibilities of
its inhabitants, who justly have a hi;ih idea of
tlie ollicial caj)ital of the colony. Christeluirch
in South Island, and Auckland in Nortli Island,
would have better claims to this honour. It is
the central situation of Wellirigton - that caused
the preference to be jjfiven to it. Here you cannot
but admire the palace of the Governor, the
Houses of theLejfislature, some fine churches, and,
above all, the immense building which contains,
besides the archives of State, the ofpKies of all the
Ministers. It is the vastest wooden stru<'ture in
the world. The Wellin^itonians are extremely
l)roud of it, and I have never met witli anyone
who has not drawn my attention to this marvel.
Everywhere })eople like to possess some object
which shall be unique of its kind, but nowhere
more so than in the colonies. In fact, it is a ma/e
of apartments great and small, but all of them
well furnished ; and my only wonder is by what
process they have succeeded in finding einployes
enough to people all these rooms, and in inventing
business enough for the fortunate mortals who
are called upon to manage public affairs in New
Zealand. But the more I see of colonies and of

' In 18G4. Before that time the seat of the Governor and the
Colonial Govcrumcut was at Auckland.

-2

( t|

i I

%^'i

196

NEW ZEALAND

[pvnr ir.

: ;

lliis new Wdi'ld of the future, the moiv do I seo the
foi'cc of tiu; truism, tluit inaukind is mucli tlio
N.'iMif livciywlioro, and that the cniplt'imKinia aecH-
Miatises itself easily to every sky.

Ill this <,n*eat p/itihm.sfrn^ of ])ureaurrarv,
throujfh the kinchiess of thi' jNIiuister, i\Ir. Oliver,
the head of the depai-tnient of Posts and 'IV'le-
uraphs, I had the advjuita^^e of inakiiiir the a(;-
(luaiiitance of several of his colleaixues. I meet
them also at the cluh, where I have been invited to
l)ut up. Convei'sation turns on the struL*"ules be-
tween the ])o|)ular deniocracy and the aristocratic
element, between the mob and the ^'entlemen, or, as
others phrase it, between the people and the land-
sharks. Who is to be master of the soil ? There
lies the whole question. A German mei'chant, one
of the civic notables, said to me, 'Until now we
have held our own. We are still the first, on con-
dition always that we acco])t among us, on a foot-
ing of equality, the noaveaux riclws^ provided they
are respectable.'

After a couple of days spent most agree-
ably with men distinguished by their position,
their manners, and some by their intellectual
culture, and after parting, much to my regret,
with the young Oxonian, my amiable com-
])anion since I left the iilufls, I continued my
journey to Ticton, on the northern coast of South

ciivr. 111.]

NORTH ISLAND

19;

Island, at tlic top of a narrow sound, a rc^Liular
Xor\V('L!"ian liord. Wliat the land^capi' always
wants in thcsii parts is man; licnct; the fi'idiiiLT
of solitude that oppresses you the moment you
leave the towns. 'J'here are, indeed, in the
lu)llows of the mountains some Maori huts, and a
few dark ligures ^n'ouped U|)on some rock or
roeky islet scattered in this sea, whicdi is deep
enough to allow ships of the line to sail within
a stone's throw of the shore, if ships were there.
Hills of tolerable hei;i'lit, and covered with Li'i'een
jxrass, shut in the bay. On the rijiht and left
yawn narrow ;j!:orn;es, wrai)pcd in mysterious ;_doom.
I am told that on tlie summits of these teri-aces,
cut out of tJie mountain side, extend rich pastu-
rages, which feed countless ilocdvs of sheep.

At Nelson I had the pleasure of lindinii' the
Governor of the colony. Sir William Jcrvois.

This town is prettily situated at the end of a
small bay which broadens out towards the ocean.
It stands with its back to a range of high moun-
tains, ffimous for their copper mines, and, with
the exception of the small business quarter, con-
sists merely of a group of cottages and I^nglish
gardens stretched on verdant slopes. The inhabi-
tants are retired men of business, who are Ii\ing on
their incomes, or, if old officials, on their pensions.
There is not a sign of life or movement. An

2*;

iqS

NEW ZEALAND

[part II.

unbroken Sunday liangs over tliis Pensionopolis,
and contrasts, in my opinion, most agreeably with
the l)ustle of tlie great centres of trade. I have
seen in tlie colonies so many men crushed witli
business, absorbed with the desire and the need of
making money, that these idlers seem to me like
persons crowned with a Jialo. The dolce far niente
is pictured on their happy, careless, and some-
what sleepy features. Thej^ are the contented,
pleased to enjoy repose, the shade of their gardens,
and the cjentle Avarmth of a sun often half veiled
by the mists of the bay ; pleased also to find them-
seive-^ removed from the plagues and worries of
towns, and complacently conscious of having
abjured the worship of the golden calf.

The Governor Avas about to make his official
tour, and I had the honour of accompanying him.
On his way to the port, in the afternoon, a crowd
of well-dressed people press on the line of the
cort('<je. At their head is the Anglican bishop. I
have never heard more hearty cries of 'Ilip, hip,
hurrali ! ' Those who are happy res])ect authority.
This multitude of people, laughing and shouting
incessantly with all their might and all the
strength of their lungs, gradually lessens on the
sight as our vessel slowly gains the offing, and Ave
still hear the noise, made fainter by the groAving
distance, of their hearty acclamations. A sunset,

i >

cnAi*. III.]

NORTH ISLAND

199

bathed in magic tints, Gnil)ellishes this scene of
British loyalty at the Antipodes.

Ascending tlie western coast of North Island
we ])ass Taranaki, once tlie cliief scene of the wars
witli the Maoris, and renowned also for the fertility
of its soil, wliich is even superior to tliat of Canter-
bury. The sand on the seashore is black, the
blackness of iron. An American company, by
means of a new process, is working a portion of
this region.

Other ' Hip, hip, hurralis ! ' salute the Governor
on our arrival tlie next day, about noon, at a
short distance from New Plymouth. We are
hoisted asliore in a little cabin built for the oc-
casion, and sumptuously carpeted. The Governor
inspects tlie works of a new breakwater, receives
the authorities, listens to and makes speeches. A
phaeton Avith four horses, ridden by grooms dressed
like French postilions of Longjumeau, is placed at
Sir William's disposal. Outriders accompany it,
and behind it come a long fde of carriages and a
number of horsemen. The procession has two
miles to go before reaching the town, where we
are met by the members of the Friendly Society
and other bodies, with banners flying, all come to
welcome the representative of the Queen. An

«»»•*

*(!

200

NEW ZEALAND

[part ir.

officer of the colonial force, with a martial air,
and wearing a wliite helmet surmounted by a red
plume, and with his legs thrust into immense top-
boots, preserves order in this long column, keeps
the road clear, and shouts out lustily from time to
time the cry, taken up incessantly, of ' Hip, hip,
liurrah ! ' In all this, 1 am bound to say, there
was nothing comic. It was perfectly appropriate,
solemn, and origin;d. Everyone had a serious and
preoccupied air, for everyone had evidently some-
thing to say to, or ask of, the Governor. We are
not now at Nelson, a town which hopes and asks
for nothing but repose, but at New Plymouth, a
town full of youtliful and exuberant spirits, vague
but ardent desires, and hopes impossible to realise,
but which the inhabitants, perhaps, will realise by
the sheer force of will, of boldness, and of a simple
faith in their destinies. These qualities, which are
found to some extent tliroughout the colonies,
struck me especially here.

In the centre of the town, near a public school,
the procession drew up. Sir William, to make
himself better heard, mounted on the box of the
phaeton, and, standing upright, delivered a set
speech. I was able to follow the impression it
produced on his hearers, wlio filled the streets,
the windows, and tlie roofs. In spite of the burn-
ing sun, the men were all uncovered. The new

,1 ''

CHAP. III.]

NORTH ISLAND

20I

Governor oommencecl ]:)y making a motion. lie
proposed tliat tliey should put their hats on. It
was a happy way of opening liis discoui'se. Then
came words of comphment and adviee, euh)giums
and vague promises which bind to nothing, l^ut
tlie effect produced by this harangue was pro-
digious, and tlie town retained its air of festivity
all the day and well into tlie night.

The country, wliich is tolerably hilly about
New Plymoutli, presents a prospect of green mea-
dows, decked witli yellow gorse and reddish-tinted
fern. Mount Egmont,*'^ the Etna of New Zealand
clothed from head to foot in wliite, overlooks
the town.

It was nearly midnight wlien I parted from
Sir William Jervois to continue my journey, but
this time in the company of the Prime Minister,
Major Atkinson. My departure from New Tly-
mouth was less brilliant than my arrival had been.
In the darkness of night the Premier and myself
ran hither and thither alonjx the sliore, lookin^x
vainly for the Government steamboat which was
to convey us. At length we found some fisher-
men, wdio took us on board the ' Ilenemoa.'

This morning, at six o'clock, the small steamer

3 8,200 feet in height.

■I 4

ft
r$

■ n

202

NEW ZEAT.AND

[part II.

casts anclior in tlie port of Kawhia, wliicli forms
part of tlie independent territory called Kingsland.
Tlie position of tlie king, elected in the time of
the Leagne of Taranaki by several tribal chiefs,
is ill defined. I regret tliat I cannot help ad-
mitting that Tawliao* enjoys but a moderate
reputation. My respect for tlie great ones of the
earth prevents me from repeating the far from
flattering accounts which I have heard of this
makesliift of a kini?.

The Colonial Government seems determined to
put an end to this kingdom, but without employing
force for that purpose. Moral means will suffice.
They have lately taken possession of a pah, to
establish there a police-station. At the foot of
the pah, on the shore, a town is to be built on a
piece of ground purchased from the king. A
custom-house will first be established, together
with a telegraph-station and a ])ost-office. This
done, the swarm of settlers will soon come, and in
a few years there will arise from this untilled and
deserted soil a new business centre, which will
rival Auckland. High hopes are founded on this
enterprise. Many circumstances tell in favour of
the new settlement. Kawhia is nearer to Sydney,
and consequently nearer to England, than is Auck-
land. There will be six hundred miles less to

■* He paid a visit to England in 1884.

CHAP. III.]

NORTH ISLAND

traverse. Wlien tlie railway from WellingtoTi to
Kawliia is completed, the mails from North Island
for Europe will go from here.

There are some coal-fields in the neiglibour-
hocd. Vessels which at Auckland have to pay
from lo.s'. to 206'. would load here at from T-^'.
to lO-s'.

Behind Kawhia extends Kingsland, whicli at
present, by virtue of a treaty, is closed against tlie
whites. At whatever cost it must be opened lo
civilisation, to culture, and above all to specula-
tion.

Auckland, whicli, if these projects are realised,
will thenc.fortli be outside tlie great movement of
which it is now the centre, will naturally exert all
her influence at Wellington, in the Parliament and
in the Ministry, to frustrate plans so ])rejudicial to
her own interests. But the force of circumstances
is sometimes irresistible, and in this case circum-
stances seem to favour Kawhia.

It was in the com])any of the Premier and
Lieut.-Col. Reader, the Commissioner, head of the
armed constabulary, that I set foot on this land,
which was,onlj7'a month ago, ])olitically a virgin soil.
Everything here is green. The turf resembles the
emerald green of Ireland. On the shore are some
Maoris' huts and some ' tabu ' or sacred trees, the
Maori name of wliich I have fori^otten, and I have

n
m

iil

204

NEW ZEALAND

[part it.

not been able to learn the bcjtanical name. Some
natives, squattinjx motionless on their heels, and
wrapped in their blankets, do not condescend to look
at us. I admire the way in which they manage to
reduce to a small compass their tall and slender
bodies while crouching down in this pv:sition.

We reach the camp by a steep path, and are
there received by the commandant, a gentleman-like
man and in an excellent humour, as we have
brought him his wife and son to spend some hours
with him. As the steamers which carry the mails
do not touch here, Kawhia is not yet in the
civilised world. The connnandant, like his officers
and men, lives under canvas, and they occasionally
find themselves short of provisions.

Seen from the pah, the bay resembles a lake.
Towards the north, some mountains with ruiro;ed
outlines rise to a considerable height. A vast
sheet of water, now as smooth as glass, separates
us from these mountainous regions. Not a ship is
to be seen, save here and t. re a boat manned by
Maoris, gliding silently over this mirror, which re-
flects the lonely shore.

On leaving Kawdiia Bay, looking southward, a
strange fantastic sight attracts our notice. Light
mists, which take the azure tints of the sky^ make
the coast invisible. In the midst of this blue
curtain, suspended in the air, looms a white

CHAr. III.]

NORTH ISLAI'D

205

triangular sliape. It is the cone of Mount Eginont.
We are eiglity miles away from it as tlie crow flies.
It is one of those magical ed'ects so common in
New Zealand, so rare everywhere else.

The steamer passes close by a small island as
wliite as snow, and called White Island. It is the
haunt of birds whose ])lumaL,'e has «riven it the
colour and tlie name. We see innumerable mul-
titudes of these denizens of tlie air and water.
They sit thei'e motionless, one beside the other,
male and female, hatching their eggs. Tlie captain
of the ship, wlio spends his life on tlie coasts of
New Zealand, tells us all about their ways and
ha])its. Certainly, in these distant j(,urneys, you
rarely pass a day without meeting something
novel, strange, and ])uzzling ; but the most interest-
ing object is always nuin, and especially the man
who lives amid these scenes. This tar, a Cana-
dian by birth, who has scoured every sea, belono-s
to that class of adventurers who, according; to
their nature and the stress of circumstances, be-
come either freebooters or heroes. The ocean and
unknown shores form the scene of their activity.
Most frequently they live, work, and die unknown.
Born in a higher or more conspicuous sphere,
they would fill the world Avith the fame of their
exploits or their crimes ; but, notwithstanding the
obscurity that shrouds their existence, they form

ill"*

#111 '

«1

m I

iti

u 1

t ' n.

\t[

hf' I

III

1 i

206

Ni:W ZEALAND

[rAur ir.

an important element in tlie newly growinj^f wo IJ,
and they i)lay, albeit l)ehind the scenes, a leading
part in the history of tlie colonies.

After coasting along a pretty tract of country
we arrived towards evening at Manukaii, and
thence came by railway in less than half an hour
to Auckland, the former caj)ital and still the })rin-
cipal town of North Island.

Auckland, November 5-12. — Seen from a height,
such as that on which stands the excellent Northern
Club, where I am staying, the town has the aspect
of a metropolis. From the top of Mount Eden,
crowned by an old pah, to the south-east of the
town, the eye takes in a panorama of immense
extent and real beauty. At your feet, and towards
the north, are the town and the port, full of ships
of every tonnage ; beyond, lies the vast surface of
the Ilauraki Gulf, shut in here by the land which
stretches out in a northerly direction, there by a
little archipelago of islets, beyond which spreads
the open sea. Turning soutliward, you look over
the narrow tongue of land which Hes between you
and the little bay of Manukau. Around you are
gardens, villas, and straggling villages. All this
is very fine and even picturesque, but the enthu-
siasm of the inhabitants passes all bounds and tends

cnAP. in.]

NORTH ISLAND

207

to c'liilltlie stran;ier, if it does not excite in him tlie
si)int of contradiction. They compare Auckhmd
Avitli Naples, Nice, Genoa, and Constantinoj)le, and
Auckhmd surj)as!<es ail. This is what they call in
tlie colonies ' blowhig.' If tlie talk turns on tlie
])roducts of nature or industiy, the ])ictures(iue
cliarms, tlie clinuite, the men and things of tlie
country, the refrain i" always the same — they are
the best in the world. In the face of such ex-
aggerations one is not allowed to maintain a polite
silence ; one must gush in echo of liis New
Zealand friends. It is a weakness, an inhrmity
of children, which is only met with in new coun-
tries. The descri])tions of travels in the United
States at the begimiing and even in the middle
of this century are full of anecdotes and quizzing
about the Yankees' way of going into ecstasies
about themselves. The War of Secession closed
the period of their youth. They have now attained
their majority and given uj) this habit. It will be
the same here and in Australia. In Cape Colony,
whose existence dates back more than two cen-
turies, no one blows his trumj)et in this manner.
A man is always prone to exaggerate his first suc-
cess, no matter in wliat enterprise or study, but the
farther he advances the more he finds out how far
he has still to go. Then comes the reaction, and
he loses heart. Only with maturer years a well-

[11

■*m

^iMI

>ki

208

NEW ZEALAND

[part II.

rejifiilatod mind finds its ])ropor balance. It is tlie
same witli communities.

In the upper town, ensconced beliind tlic trees of
a fine park, stands tlie Governor's ])alace. Beyond
it come clej/ant liouses, ^rardens, and ]ou<f avenues.
The commercial fpiarters of the lower town are just
like the other «,n'eat centres of Australasia.

The exuberant ve^^etation reminds you of the
latitude in wliich you are. The inhabitants are
naturally proud of their climate, but strangers, who
have settled here for many years, assure me that,
being warmer, more moist, and more variable than
that of the tem])erate zones of our continent, it
exercises an enervating influence, and that children
born in the colony are not ])hysically as strong as
their fjithcrs who have come from Europe.

Here, as at Dunedin, Christchurch, and Wel-
lington, I have kindnesses showered upon me.
These New Zealanders, so fond of boasting, nevei'
allude to one great quality pre-eminently their
own — their hospitality, which has the great charm
of cominof straight from the heart.

. t

Sir George Grey has left his little island to come
and spend a few days here, and I have the good

CHAP. Ill]

NORTH ISLAND

209

fortune to sec liiin frofjuontly. The life of tliis
reinju'k.'ible man is well known in Kniiliind and tlu'
coloiiics. Jiorn in 1812, he ex])lored, ns a youni^-
ofTirer, a ])ortion of Western Australia, and after-
wards resided as a niatristrate at Albany. In turn
Governor, Administrator, and Commander-in-Chief
in New Zealand, twice Governor of Cape Colony
and High Commissioner of South Africa, he has
left everywhere lasting traces of his activity. Since
his retirement from public service he has lived in
New Zealand. lie takes an active part in the
political affairs of this young colony, and finds
himself sometimes raised to a pinnacle of ])ublic
favour, sometimes plunged in the depths of un-
po])ularity. During his long career, the independ-
ence of his judgment and character made him an
awkward subordinate for his su])eriors, but an
excellent head, whether of a colony or of a party.
Here, in the Parliament and elsewhere, he is accused
of having espoused the cause of the extreme sec-
tions of the democratic party. It is not my busi-
ness to examine how far these charges are well
founded. One must guard oneself against false
appearances, and also against the judgments formed
of statesmen by politicians.

Personally, Sir George Grey is a charming old
gentleman, with blue eyes, bright complexion, and
white hair, and with a miud cultivated and enriched

VOL. 1. P

ft I I

rii

««"

■««»i'

210

Ni:\v zi:ai.ani)

Li'Aur II.

by readiiifr ; ii great lover of books, an cloquont
talkor ; in spite of tlie deinocnitic predilections
which, ri;ihtly or \vron<fly, ure ascribed to hini, a
man of ])()lished manners, and, thou<,di he has s])ent
his life at the Antipodes, the type of an Knglisli
f^'cntleman of the old school, lie and iSir liartlo
Frere, slender as is the allinity between them, are
the two most conspicuous ligures in the Southern
I[emisj)here.

ISir George kindly takes me to his little island
of Kawau, lying noith of Auckland, in the gulf of
llauraki. The distance is about twenty-six miles,
and we take three hours and a half to accom])lish
it. It is a holiday in honour of the Prince of Wales's
birthday. Shops and factories are closed, but a
multitude of steandjoats, crowded with excursionists
in holiday trim, are ploughing the waters of the
bay. Our little vessel is packed full. There are
plenty of women well dressed, but without the least
pretension to elegance. The whole has a iouiun'ois
stamp. There is nothing ' fast ' about it. To be
sure tlure are some couples honestly and artlessly
making love ; but, ' Iloni salt qui Dial y penae' In
general, everything in these islands has an air of
respectability. The people treat Sir George with
a certain deference, wdiich is reflected on his com-
panion. The captain declines to take our five
shillings, the return faic, saying that he is honoured

ive
red

CHAP, in.]

NOUTII I.SLAND

I I

by liaviiiix us on board. Tho wcMtliur is superb;
ju>t enough of astenibroeze toeounteruct the liead-
^vind caused by our rapid ])assage. We ghde gently
on tiiis glassy surface whicli mirrors here siiuill blulls,
and there small promontoiies crowned with thickets.
At length we are at Kawau. The steamer doubles
a small point, and enters a bay opetiing into a creek
at the end of which stands, shaded by magnilictMit
trees, the residence of my host. It is a handsome
building, made of concrete. Inside are works
of art, curiosities, and a library rich in rare and
j)re(;ious b(joks. To-day, in honour of the heir to
the Jiritish crown, the apartments, pleasure-grountls.
and park are thrown open to excursionists, who,
after having admired the treasures of the house, are
strolling on the turf and in the little wood which
climbs the hillside at the back. The whole island is
simply a park, a succession of hills covered with trees
and plants brought from all parts of the world.
You see here the venerable kauri [Datninar,i
aa.^tvalU) and some other indigenous trees and
shrubs ; all sorts of conifers, and several kinds of
oak from California ; the noble and somewhat
stifT-looking pine of Norfolk Island ; superb speci-
mens of the flora of the North and South Pacilic ;
various kinds of Australian eucalyptus ; the mag-
nificent arauzaea ; conifera) from Japan ; weep-
ing willows from China; pines from the island of

p 2

■

Jt;

: 'tK_ wi

212

NEW ZEALAND

[PAKT IT.

TenerifTc ; fibrous plants of Peru and Cliili ; nearly
all the trees of South Africa, including even one
or two silver-trees ; the camphor-tree and the
Launis Cinnamomum of the Malay Archipelago ; and
lastly, countless varieties of the European flora.
Kangaroos skip awkwardly on the paths, and a
colossal ostrich struts along with an air of scorn.
Chinese pheasants,^ with white rings round their
necks, start up at every step you take in this
mazy chaos of many-tinted green, which represents
the vegetable kingdom of the globe. It is not a
botanical garden, not a virgin forest ; it is the
earthly Paradise before the Fall.

^\l

To the Hot Lakes, Oct. 2^-Nov. 5.— The
curious and conscientious traveller has sacred
duties to fulfil. Nobody goes to Rome without
seeing the Pope ; nobody goes to New Zealand
without visitincf, or at least announcinoj his in-
tention to visit, the Hot Lakes. To spare my
faithful valet the miseries of sea-sickness I leave
him at Auckland, and start on my voyage alone.
A fearful sea ; the bay of Tauranga like a basin
of boilinnf water. The tin^'- steamer, scarce out

* Tho Chinese pheasants have been extremely prolific, and are
to be found tlii'ougliout New Zealand.

CHAP, in,]

NORTH ISLAND

213

of liarbour, takes to cutting furious capers. Tlie
rain falls in torrents and penetrates into the
miserable smoking-room, whither, after su})per has
been served, the ship's cook comes to help me while
away the time. There is also another gentleman
of sinister aspect, but in the colonies we are all
brothers and companions. Jack is as good as his
master, as they say in New Zealand.

The cook, an anuising and interesting fellow,
is or has been, evidently, a gentleman, and
Heaven knows through what strange vicissitudes
he has come to choose his present calliuL!". To
judge from his disiies, he is j\o born cook. It
is quite a common thing to see sons of good
family, after running through their property,
turn the servants of their former servants, who
from superior wits and better fortune have risen
on the social ladder. A gentleman who occu-
pies an official ])osition of considerable import-
ance, and wdio himself belongs by birth to the
aristocracy, tells me, ' The younger sons of gentle-
men who come here with money lose it, either fron;
not understanding business, or from growing dis-
pirited after their sudden entrance into an uncon-
genial sphere. They become bored and miserable,
and, for want of other means of distraction, take
to drink. No one could imagine the changes they
go through — the ups and downs of their existence.

■'fi
ml-

fill

•«Mi

311

r Hi

»' 1

,'.

T«^zr:3:

214

NEW ZEALAND

[part ir.

I myself am a case in point. I was once an
officer in a smart regiment in India. In conse-
(^uence of a quarrel witli my colonel, I sold my
conmiission and came to New Zealand. Tliere I
lost all I liad. Finding myself without a farthing,
I worked for some months as head driver of
slieep. It is a rough life, but one which, according
to tlie ideas of the country, doos not demean a
man. However, I changed it for tliat of a miner.
Witli three companions I went to tlio mines of Lake
Wakatipu. For several months w. worked there
sixteen hours a day. I wonder to this moment
liow my liealth was able to stand it, considering
tliat my mates, who were common men, suc-
cumbed to the labour. I scraped together a little
money, which I immediately lost ' — he did not tell
me how — ' and I was about to revenir a mes moutons^
wlien, thanks to the intervention of some influential
friends in England, I was appointed to the official
])ost in which you see me.'

The other gentleman, the man of !.'!';fr ap-
])earance and more than slovenly dress — a ' biJ ^ lot,'
as my new friend the cook whispers in my ear —
joins in the conversation. He takes a very black view
of things, and deplores the immorality of the Minis-
ters and the venality of the members of Parliament.
This virtuous man in tlie guise of a scamp never
stops talking. It is late when I retire to the stufl'y

CHAP, in.]

NORTH ISLAND

215

atmospliere of my cabin, ^^llcre the rolling of tlie
vessel makes me pass a sleepless night.

The next morning, at ten o'clock, in a pelting
rain, the ' Glenelg ' arrives ofi' Tauranga, and
Major Swindley comes on board to meet me and
takes me to a charming little hotel, where I find
excellent cooking, and a nice little sitting-room
with a blazing lire. The major is the head of the
constabulary of his district, and is to be my
companion on this excursion. Towards noon the
weather clears up, and a small Californian buggy
takes us to the Gate Pah of sad memory, distant
two miles and a half It was here, in 1864, that
the I^ritish troops, after having fired upon each
other by mistake, were seized with a sudden panic
and took to flight, deserting their officers, who
continued the combat till the morning. At day-
break the Pah was found abandoned. This nicht
combat, and the terrible losses which the English
suflered, recall to mind the ' triste noche ' of
Cortes.

The Pah, situated, like all the Maoris' strong-
holds, on a small eminence, conmiands an ex-
tensive view over the broken plain and the low
hillocks covered with arbutus. The reddish tints
of the native fern, blended with the greyish green

I 11141

f'li

iiii***

•)it

m^- -:■

216

NEW ZEALAND

[part it.

of the other sliru])s, give an appear.'^pro of melaii-
clioly to the scene. In fact, these two colours,
green and red, are the prevaihng ones in tliis j)art
of North Island.

The officers and privates killed at the Gate Pah
have been buried in the grave-yard at Tauranga.
A simple monument records their names.

This town consists of a small group of wooden
liouses. The trees which surround it have all
been planted by Europeans. Weeping willows
are here, and Norfolk pines, and poplars. There
are some rising plantations in the environs. From
every point you gain a view of the bay, unenlivened
by a single sail or ship. An isolated rock, which
I'ises to the height of 800 feet above this vast
silence-stricken basin, serves to guide the few
vessels tliat visit these solitary regions.

Some English missionaries have imported hi-
ther the sweet brier. This plant, like the Englisli
gorse, has overrun both islands, and seriously in-
terfered with the clearing and cultivation of the soil.

Tauranga, with its two hotels, established two
or three years ago, ow^es its existence to the Hot
Lakes and geysers, which are beginning to be fre-
quented from November to April by persons
suffering from gout or rlieumatism.

cn\r. III.]

NORTH ISLAND

217

Leaving Tauranga at ciglit o'clock in tlie morn-
ing in a buggy drawn by four capital liorses, ^ve
traverse a labyrinth of ravines and hills inter-
spersed with small plains. Above the horizon ap-
pears the wooded (;rater of the volcano of Mount
Edgecumbe. This mountain excepted, horizontal
lines predominate. We pass through a few scat-
tered plantations, and, after crossing abridge, enter
the Maori ' reserve.' By this term is understood a
territory belonging to the natives, where, without
their consent, whites are not allowed to settle.
iNevertlieless, the Government exercise a certain
influence there ; they are having roads made, and
schools established for native children.

The country is more or less uncultivated.
The pale red native fern, the bright green tu-tii,
a poisonous plant fatal to cattle, various kinds of
white-flowered manuka, and the ti. a tree belong-
ing to the family of lilies, reign as absolute masters
of the soil. You see also tufts of tussock here
and there, but in smaller quantities than in South
Island, and of a whitish tint, which produces
the effect of snow and gives a singular appear-
ance to the landscape. In some })laces the
illusion is complete, and you wonder how tliese
specks of snow resist the heat of a nearly tropical
sun. Groups of Maoris, men, women, and children,
startle our horses -by their cries, wluch are meant

f'fi.

* r

si:

r 1

lif

Ill ,

I. !

I :i

2l8

NEW ZEALAND

[part rr.

•if n

as a welcome. We leave on our rifrlit the hifrh
road from Taiiranga to Oliinemutu, made impnss-
al)le by the recent rains, and drive tliroutjh a tract
of country which is everywliere tlie same, solitary
and imposing in its wildness.

We are allowed to enter some of the Maoris'
enclosures. The wooden houses covered with
heavy roofs, and flanked at eacli angle with liand-
somely carved pilasters representing, together with
tlie symbol of creation, the first ancestors, male and
female, of the family, who are always painted in
red, indicate a degree of culture far superior to
that which I have met with in other savage or
semi-barbarous countries. Nothing gives a better
idea of the architecture of the Maoris than tlie
hall of ancestors which Dr. Von Haast has had
buil^- in the museum at Christchurch. The de-
sii^ns are extremelv curious, and have a vac^ue
resemblance to tlie decorations on Egyptian monu-
ments. The sculptors work without a model,
using both hands together, with a tool in each.

After skirting a pretty sheet of water called
Eoto Iti (little lake), we reach the banks of the
great lake Roto Rua {ivto, lake ; rua^ hole). The
dense columns of steam rising on the opposite shore
proceed from the famous geysers, one of the
w^onders of New Zealand, and, I think I may add
without ' blowinij,' one of the wonders of the world.

CHAP. III.'J

NORTH ISLAND

219

At five o'clock in tlie evening we aliglit before
tlie Lake Hotel, liaving covered fifty-five miles from
Taiiranga.

Ohinemutu is a small Maori village, built on a
tongue of land projecting into the lake. Every
house is fenced round with a stockade. The inhabi-
tants are loyalists, never havhig taken part in the
wars against the Enghsh. They have just erected,
in the style of the country, a building intended
for the meetings of the heads of ffmiilies. In the
centre of the hall stands a pedestal, on which the
bust of Queen Victoria is to be placed with all
solemnity, in the presence of the Governor, who
is expected here on a visit.

Two years ago not a white man was to be
seen here ; now, tlianks to tlie Hot Lakes and the
doctors of Auckland, some shops and two hotels,
filled during the season with bathers, have been
built on this ground which is perforated with in-
numerable little geysers and strewn with little
pools of boiUng water, rendering it difficult in the
day and dangerous in the night to walk about the
streets. Some Europeans, in a state of drunken-
ness, have met here with an agonising death. This
evening we share tlie establishment with the pro-
prietor, the founder of Grahamstown in the gold-
bearing district of the Tliaines. He is a grave and
solemn personage, who is not Avanting, however, in

' '11

m 4
f 1

z\)

iHl^i

I : H;

220

NEW ZKAIAND

[part II.

a liability, and ooiidescends to answer tlie questions
I address to liiin.

This morning I took a batli in the hot water
of a small geyser which rumbles, boils, and steams
a few steps from the hotel. Near me a Maori
woman was cooking in a pool. Walking over this
ground mined with fire, I was constantly haunted
by the fear of dying the death of a lobster.

The great geysers of Wakarewarewa, two or
three miles from here, are indeed more like an Ir>-
ferno than anything that tlie imagination of a Dante
could create. The steam blinds, the heat suffo-
cates, the noise deafens you. Clinging to the arms
of a Maori, you look down into this whirlpool
gaping at your feet and ready to engulf you. The
country, a broken plain, intersected with ravines
and entirely clothed with fern, is unattractive.
Eastward is the black line of the forest; northward,
the lake, the vast surface of which dwarfs the sur-
rounding hills. But the geysers form one of the
most striking sights I ever witnessed.

The village of Wakarewarewa, witli its tussock-
roofed houses, takes us back to the prehistoric
times of the Maoris. If anything reminds the
visitor of Europe, it is the cross wdiich, bent from
its upright position by the w^ind, surmounts the
roof of a hut somewhat more spacious than the

COAP. III.]

NORTH ISLAND

rest. Tliis liiit is tlie cluircli, b'lilt at tlie cost and
partly by tlic liands of a Scotclinian, Fatlier Mar-
Donald, a pious and venerable pastor, who spends
his life amidst his flock.

A little farther on we pass through a fine
forest. Here are the black pine, the red pine,
and, above all, the nol)le kauri, which is only
found in the North Island. Out of Europe the
kauri, the Wellincftonia, the Norfolk Island pine,
and the cedar of Lebanon are the monarchs of the
forest. Here we see magnificent specimens of the
kauri, but alas ! many of these trees seem doomed
to die of decay. Tlioy are in various stages of
decline — some scarcely touched, others stripped of
their foUage, some even of their branches. Many
of the straight trunks are of a ( adaverous white.
Their enemy is a plant called rata. It climbs up
the trunk, grips it like a boa-constrictor, and
slowly but infallibly destroys it. Seen at a dis-
tance, the rata looks like a cable. The Maoris
have it that this plant is born in the head of a
caterpillar. The legend is not unpoetical, and, in
point of fact, there are caterpillars known by an ex-
crescence on the head somewhat Hke a rata. The
innkeeper at Ohinemutu showed us several speci-
mens. The kauri trees, like many other conii'ers,
attain a considerable height ; Nature plants them
a good way apart. Their branches, though lai-ge

rii

^mi

im**

,nj

■\v

'^f|^^

222

NEW ZEALAND

[part ti.

and spreading, arc too sliort to meet and get entan-
gled, bnt the low brushwood that grows up about
their stems forms a com])act and impenetrable
mass. The brilliant green of the shrubs, standing
out against the bluish green of the kauri, breaks the
monotony of a single colour. The great beauty of
the kauri is m its trunk : so strong, upright, smooth,
shining in the sun and clothed in shadow wutli warm
tints of bright brown. All these trees keep their
foliage throughout the year, or rather renew it im-
perceptibly. What they want is freshness and grace.
In general, there is nothing here in common with
the wooded ])arts of Europe, or the virgin forests
of the tropics. The ' bush ' of this island is
unique of its kind : it attracts, it touches, it
saddens you. It is like a person who interests
you, and whose features wear the expression of ap-
proaching death. I confess the Maoris themselves
produce a somewhat similar impression upon me.
Inanimate nature, like mankind, seems destined to
give place to the new-comers.

After leaving this wood, with many regrets,
we follow the road along Lake Tikitapu (Blue
Lake), which fully deserves its name of Blue, and
reach the shores of Lake Eoto Kaki. About four
o'clock we come to the Maori village of Wairoa,
eleven miles from Ohinemutu. Here we are in
the heart of Maori-land. Excepting two or three

cnvr. III. J

NORTH ISLAND

223

missioiiurics, tlic only Kiiropoans cstablislied in this
disl.rict art; the ])i'oj)riel()rs of a pretty littlj liotul
Avliit'li would do lioiiour to the Isle of \Vi<rlil.
Tiie hfe of pioneers is seldom wanlinjj: in inter-
est. The innkeeper be^'an his as a she})herd ;
liis wife earned her living by lookinjj^ after pigs.
At Auckland, where afterwards slie took ser-
vice as nursery-maid, she educated herself, and
now she is certainly a charming, pretty young
woman, very neatly dressed, and a perfect mana-
geress of the hotel.

We pass by the school just as the children are
coming out. It is one of tiiat class of schools,
established and maintained at the cost of the
Colonial Government, and called iii England ' un-
denominational,' from which reli<nous instruction
is excluded. ' Inside these walls,' says my com-
panion to me, ' the children never hear even tiie
name of God uttered.' At this moment one of
the tattooed scholars comes up to me with an
insolent air and asks for money. As I pass on
without noticing him, he runs off, crying, ' God
you ! ' Evidently these charming boys are

not left in ignorance of the name of God.

This morning we have risen with the sun, which
is shining brilliantly, and descend by a rugged

■^i-i

MO I

m
:8;

311

III <l

iiii**'

• i

'iU

■I :!

224

^'I:^v Zealand

[PAUT ir.

' >

1
1

1
i

1
1

]).'itli into a (loop Lrorire oponiiij; on to the shore of
the lovely and, coinparutively speaking, vast lakt?
of 'rara\v(M-a. Here, a boat manned by four Maoris
and the famous Kate is waitinjr for us. Kate is
a Maori half-blood, of middle age, and still retain-
ing some traces of beauty. 8he onee saved the
life of an old tourist, who, heedless of her advice,
had slipi)ed into a small geyser. For this deed
she wears on her breast a medal presented by the
Colonial Government.

This worthy woman, of swarthy complexion,
elaborately tattooed, modest in manner, and
decently dressed, holds the tiller; the boatmen
row lustily, and we glide with s\ across this
large expanse of water which mirrors a cloudless
sky and the surrounding vegetation, topped with
mountains of moderate height and glowing with
the rosy tints of tlie heather. Midway on the
lake we see, rising high above its eastern shore,
which here is like a long, low breakwater of green,
the precipitous sides and cone of Mount Edge-
cumbe. Soon afterwards the boat, veering south-
ward, takes on board, near a small fishermen's
village, some provisions in the shape of fish
and prawns, and lands us at the mouth of the
little stream Kaiwaka, the outlet of the famous
hot lake Roto Mali ana, and seven miles from the
point where we embarked. We walk along the

CHAr. in.]

NORTH ISLAND

225

i''

left hank of tins stream, thon cross over in a
caiHK' to the other side, and set to work to scale
u Ulth' hilh Patli there is none, hut we make our
way as hest we can throu;ih the fern, the tussn-.i-^
and tufts of nimiukn^ with tlieir \n\i white Ih-wers
pently stirred hy the breeze. At len<j:tli we C(.me
to tlie liot hike. In front of us, and not far oil",
ascend tlie famous ' wiiite terra(!es,' exhaling; (douds
of steam. Some risinjj j^round conceals the ' j)iidv
terraces ' which are on the left shore. Lake Koto
Mahana is of no great size, and thoufrh surrounded
with hills which the fern has clothed in rosy hues,
and the foot of which is covered with <jfreen
foUage, is not beautiful in the ordinary accepta-
tion of the word. It is even called ugly. For
my part, it strikes me as being of incomparable
beauty. Here the great artist Nature disdains the
efl'ects produced upon the eye by richness of
colourinjx and boldness of desifrn. She contents
herself with a few dashes of the brush, and takes
only a few pale tints from her palette. By lower-
ing the shores of the lake, which are simply
accessories to the scene, she fjives heii^ht to the
terraces, these wonders of the world, which f(jrm
the essential part of the ])icture, and this picture
is remarkable for a simplicity and a grandeur
which it would be vain for me to attempt to
describe in words. At such moments as this I

VOL. I (I

I'll

■J

tii

if h:
1 \

iti \

226

NEW ZEALAND

[part II.

feel the insufficiency of human language, more
fitted, as it is, to portray tlie workings of tlie
mind and the movements of tlie heart than to
convey impressions produced externally througli
the medium of tlie senses.

We have reached the foot of the ' w^hite
terraces,'^ which in reality are faintly coloured, a
dull white bordering on pearl. A pond, visible
only when close to its banks, occupies the
summit. It is the crater. The boiling water
flowing from it floods the terraces, and, lessening
in temperature as it streams down the broad
stages of the slope, settles in little basins like
shells of alabaster. These are natural bathing?-
places, from three to four feet deep. The water
in these basins is of an azure opal blue. I could
not learn what was the cause of this. Little
holes, bored by Nature in the broad stairs of the
terraces, pufl" out clouds of steam, white above
and ultramarine blue below. Is it the reflection
of the water contained in these baths? From
these same basins rise from time to time little
colinnns of water in the form of fountains —
bunches of rockets in a show of fireworks. As
you come near the crater at the top, the heat of
the water and the steam drives you away after a

• I am told that tliese rise to a height of more than 100 feet
and are from 150 to 200 feet in width.

lof
a

&et

CIIAP. III.]

NORTH ISLAND

227

few moments. The edges of the terraces eliarm
the eye by their beauty of outline, and by the ex-
([uisitely carved pendants vvitli which the petrified
water has decorated them in the course of centu-
ries. Guided by tlie incomparal)le Kate, and shod
in tliick boots, covered witli stockings to prevent
tliem from slipping, we walk for more than an
hour in the water wdiich turns to stone whatever
is left there. Some years ago an English lady
left a shoe, the tininess of which makes you lon^
to admii'e the foot, that wore it. It still lies on
the spot Avhere it was left. It is tahn^ sacred, and
the Maoris, Avith Kate at their head, would make
it awkward for anyone who should touch this
relic.

A native canoe takes us across to the '])ink
terrace,' which is not strictly })ink, but rather
salmon-coloured. To sec really ])iidv, purple, and
scai'let rocks, you must iro to Arabia Petravi. This
terrace is not so high and large as the white
terrace, but its steps are less dilapidated, and you
see here to more advantaire the hand of tlie
architect. Some silly people have scratched tlieir
names upon them, and alas, .sryvy^^cf inaneiit: it is
impossible to efface them.

I bathed in one of the little basins which
N.Uure has duur out. Coming- out of it I liad to
go some hundred ste})S to find my clothes, but, in

it;i

rf!i

31'^

HI "l^l

r 1

fit

iiP"^

228

NEW ZEALAND

[part ri.

spite of a piercing wind the cliange from tlie liot
water to the fresh air seemed extremely pleasant
and di(l not do me any harm.

After bathing, we took our breakfast, not on
the grass, for tliere is none, but on some pumice-
stones, under the sliade of a clump of flowering
manukas^ in company with Kate and some Maori
lishermen. They took us back in their canoe to
tlie place where we had left our boat. The
Kaiwaka, a small stream of lukewarm water, which
is nothing but a series of rapids, winds snakelike
between two screens of foliage ; manukaa, which
here are like slirubs, tii-tus with their poisonous
leaves, and a dense border of native flax. At
some places, wliere the stream narrows, the trees
form a tunnel beneath which the boat darts along
at a giddy speed.

Retracing our route, we came towards evening
to Ohinemutu, after a journey on foot, and by
boat and carriage, of more than thirty miles.

Tlie w^eather is fi'iglitful. At six o'clock we
are in our carriage, and at eight o'clock have
reached the edge of the great forest Avliich sepa-
rates Lake Koto Eua from the shores of the Wai-
kato. We passed through it on horseback, and in
spite of a pelting rain which pierced through our

• (

CHAP. III.]

NORTH ISLAND

229

mackintosliGs, and in spite also of the trees with
"vvliich the la'oourers en<ra<ied in constructinfr a oar-
riage-road liad obstructed tlie path, I have rarely
enjoyed more thorougldy an excursion through a
virgin forest. As we emerge from the wood and
gain a rising ground, a boundless panorama un-
folds itself before us. We see a plateau torn witli
deep ravines, covered with brushwood, dotted with
little quincunces of kauri, which as yet are un-
touclied by the axe of the clearer, and traversed
far away by chains of hills, the blue tints of which
vary with the distance. We have left the ' re-
serve,' and are now in the town of Oxford, consist-
ing of two houses. In one of these, the inn
fi'equented by stone-breakers and woodcutters, all
of them whites, we find the Dublin ' Weekly Free-
man ' and tlie ' Imitation of Christ.' Shortly after-
wards we enter the valley of the Waikato. This
noble river, an effluent of the big lake Taupo,
which lies in the centre of the island, rolls its
somewhat muddy waters at our feet, at the bottom
of a fissure in the plateau. This latter part of our
route between Oxford and Cambridge seemed to
ine particularly beautiful. This is not everybody's
opinion. Those who appreciate the Campagna of
Home will acree with me.

At six o'clock in the evening we arrived at
Cambridge. The rain had lasted all the day, and

M fi

N i

r ill

Si!
at

mil

41"

iii»r

C
*

E i

(

230

NEW ZEALAND

[P\RT TI.

never ceased till the moment we dismounted. We
liad been singularly unlucky, but yet the journey
had been one of the pleasantest in my tour.

Some houses and gardens, scattered on the
plateau at the foot of wliich Hows the Waikato,
constitute the town of Cambridge, tlie centre of a
pastoral country where everyone is engaged in
cattle-breedino-. A branch connects it at Hamil-
ton with the unfinished main line, between Wel-
lington and Auckland. Country, town, inliabitants
— all have a bucolic character. It being Sunday,
we are obliged to spend the day here, as the
Sabbath is not consistent with railway travelling.

Tlie next day we returned to the capital of
North Island.

Passage from Auckland to Sydney, October 12-17.
The day I left Auckland one of the most terrible
storms I have ever known swept over the bays and
the city. The club-house rocked to its foundations.
The ' Zealandia,' one of the four large steamers
plying monthly between San Francisco and
Sydney, had been expected for several days, but
was not yet signalled. People were beginning to
grow alarmed, when at midday, despite the fury

♦

CHAP. HI.]

NORTH ISLAND

231

of tlie elements, slie appeared in the roads. At
midnight, accompanied by Sir George Grey, who
kindly came with me to the steamer, I went on
board. The first persons I met were Lord and
Lady Rosebery. To come across pleasant ac-
quaintances again, when least expected, is always
a bit of good fortune, and, under present circum-
stances, the meeting Avas auspicious.

I III*;

III

1.1

\4.

II
II

"'ff
II.

I ,

Among the savage peoples whom bad fortune
has brought in contact with the white man, the
Maoris, more than any others, have attracted the
attention and curiosity, I will add also the kindly
interest, of Europe. Their beauty, their love of
independence, and their bravery, so often shown
in bloody combats wdth their invaders, excited
general admiration. Thus one remembers the cries
of distress "which were raised by the colonists when
the last British troops left New Zealand. In re-
calling them, the Queen's Government were simply
applying to these islands the principle they had
recently proclaimed, namely, that the colonies with
a responsible government should thenceforward
provide for their own security. Here the task
seemed beyond the power of these young and
far from populous communities. Nevertheless, the
problem was solved. The natives gradually settled

ir I

HI Ml
11 ."11

imH"
iiif

'41

i I

> i

I I

i II ^

il !i

1 1^'

232

NEW ZEALAND

[part II.

clown, and now tliey have almost ceased to be a
source of anxiety. Driven back into the ' re-
serves,' and into what is called Kingsland, botli
situated in North Island which is being more and
more penetrated by civilisation, the old masters of
the soil are befjinnin<r to resi<ni themselves to their
fate, which means, as they know and feel to be
the case, the near extincti'^^ of their race.

According to a tradition widely spread among
the Maoris, their ancestors, after leaving, about
the beginning.' of the fifteenth century, ' Ilawaiki '
— by which some understand the Hawaiian or
Sandwich Islands, and others, one of the Samoa
group — were the first settlers in New Zealand,
then entirely uninhabited. Since neither the
trade-winds nor currents can have driven their
canoes towards the south, this legend apparently
must be received with caution. On the other
hand, the Polynesian origin of these people is
evident at a glance. Sir George Grey, who is
suj^posed to be most familiar with the language
and the manners of the Maoris, regards them as
the degenerate descendants of a race highly civilised
in ancient times.

Some Wesleyan missionaries, who came hither
in 1835, began the work of conversion, and
several tribes seem to have embraced Christianity.
However, to judge from what everyone, with rare

,'♦■'

'■

coAP. ni.]

NORTH ISLAND

i;i

■^00

()-

unanimity, informed me, tliese labours have pr
ducecl very imperfect results. No sooner have
the preachers turned their backs, than the natives
forget their teachings. Nevertheless tliey have re-
tained some vague notions of the Old Testament,
and with the aid of these confused recollections
some of the tribal chiefs are now occupying them-
selves in constructing a new religion. The lunii-
ber of missionaries has considerably diminished.
The societies are sending scarcely any iTiore,
since they have concentrated their activity in
the islands of the Pacific. Monsignor Luke, the
Roman Catholic bishop of Auckland, has a high
opinion of his little Christian communities placed
under the influence and continual guidance of
their pastors, but the want of priests prevents
him from extendirg the work more widely. It is
needless to add, th.it the little flock of Catholic na-
tives is lost in the midst of masses who fluctuate
between their traditional superstitions and Chris-
tian doctrines, but who, at least, have ceased to be
cannibals. This is certainly a great result when
we consider that as recently as 1840 cannibalism
was generally practised. The museum at Christ-
church possesses an instrument of complicated con-
struction, and testifying to '' certain skill of work-
manship. It is a tool used for opening the victim's
skull and extracting the brains.

\l*

m
atii

•^ft^

4
ti '''I

III'

! i

IK"' fl

■I !

•I

234

NEW ZEALAITD

[part ir.

t I

Everyone agrees in admitting that the Maoris
are gifted, and up to a certain point, beyond
which they never go, very intelhgent. In tlie
streets of Auckland I was introduced to a Maori
dressed Uke a gentleman. lie was the chief of
the tribe of Ohinemutu. He had a clear com-
})lexion, a face superbly tattooed, and a quick and
lively eye. Thanks to my companion, who acted
as interpreter, I was able to converse with him.
After a few moments I forgot that he was a savage ;
I seemed to be speaking with a European.

The Maoris pass especially for shrewd ob-
servers. During my excursion to the hot lakes,
Major Swindley heard our boatmen say <^>f us,
' What a diflerence between these gentlemen
and the crowd of whites who come here in the
summer ! The latter are noisy and quarrelsome,
and waste their time in eating and drinking, and
hardly ever see anything of what they come to
see. This is quite another thing. This is what
we call travelling.' They are inclined to irony.
' You talk to us of God,' said the chief of a tribe
to a missionar)', ' you bid us lift up our eyes to
heaven, and wdnle we are doing so you steal our
lands.' He was alludiui? to the times of the first
companies, when the acquisition of large tracts by
means of glass beads and pipes was the order of
the day.

to
)ur

Irst

CHAP. III.]

NORTH ISLAND

235

I have already spoken of tlie soi-discnii monarch
Tawhao and liis kingdom in Kingsland. The Co-
lonial Government is alleged to have the intention
of pntting an end, by indirect means, to the highly
inconvenient independence of this enclave which
forms a barrier to direct communication between
Wellington and Auckland. The estal)lishment of
a post in the harbour of Kawhia, garrisoned by
130 of the armed constabulary, is the lirst step,
as we have seen, in this direction. I have no
desire to judge this pohcy, difficult as it would
be to justify it on moral grounds. The force
of events sometimes creates unforeseen and irre-
sistible necessities. If the Maoris take up arms
once more — and if they do, it will probably be for
the last time — it is in Kinjisland that therisin<j will
take place. On this point a superior officer of great
experience, and an unquestionable authority in such
a matter, said to me, ' An insurrection is by no
means impossible. But we shall not be taken
by surprise. The Maoris are not treacherous.
Friendly natives ,vill warn us when there is danger,
or when they ?"e resolved to attack us. It is what
they always do. But when once they have given
fair warning, they will do their utmost to destroy
us, and scruple not to employ every kind of
stratagem. A Maori friend of yours, if he sees
that you cannot escape from hostile natives, will

.Mr I

n Jill

fl :

iiii*"'

nil

III ^ f

iMMii

1 1

»itf1'ili

236

NEW ZEALAND

[part ft.

kill you to spare you a cruel death and the shauie
of being killed by an enemy, in other words, of
dying the deatjj of the vanrjuished. At i)resei)t,
the Maoris keep quiet because they know that we are
prepared to beat them ; our safety requires that
they should know we are on the alert. This is a
sure means of putting a stop to their rebellious in-
stincts. The pi-esence at Kawhia of loO of the
constabulary, under a brave and intelligent officer,
will suffice to keep the peace. Our men, thougli
surrounded by natives, have nothing to fear.'

These last words sum u]) the situation. The
white has nothing more to fear from the Maori,
the Maori has nothing more to hope for from the
white. There is no longer any Maori question.

But there is another question, and a practical
and burning one, which overtops all others. In
these islands the supreme power is shifting more
and more, if indeed the shifting process is not
already completed. New Zealand is changing
masters. ' The first colonists,' I have been told,
' belonged nearly all to the English aristocracy
or gentry. Then came the discovery of gold at
Otago. From that day began the immigration en
masse of the lower middle-classes and the people.

COM'. III.]

NORTH ISLAND

237

ting

)le.

The social lovt'l lias gradually been lowered. Now
it is the democracy who have the upper hand. The
Ministers, the oflicials, the memhers of the two
Houses, belong nearly all to the lower gi-ades of
society, when they do not actually come from the
ranks of the peoj)le ; and, moreover, the children,
born here, of the first colonists, though many of
them have been educated in England, adopt the
ideas, the mannei's, and the habits of their new sur-
roundin<Ts, so dillerent from those of their fathers.

It is plain that a social and politicil revolu-
tiuu is being efl'ected gently, and without any
violence, but, as appears to me, irresistibly. What
my informant told me of the difl'erence between
father and son in their modes of thought, their
sentiments, and their very language, struck me from
the first few days of my tour in this colony. But
this is a natural consequence of the displacement
of power, the importance of whicli I am not
exaggerating. In the family it is the ])arents, in
the State the masters — those who hold the power —
who in the loni^ run iiive the tone. Here the
masters are the ])eople — or the ' mob,' as the dis-
possessed say. In my talks Avith the latter I
constantly hear a distinction drawn between the
gentlemen and the mob ; but, in regard to manners,
it seems to me that at the Anti})odes the mob are
ascending the social scale, while the gentleman born

*\
^» .

!lt'ii

f i!

"'lit
Ill "*

I '
I

238

NEW ZEALAND

[part tl.

I.^'l

hero lias to (k'sccnd the luddcr witli a good grace.
Tliis will Olid ill tlioir mooting halfway, l^^vidoiitly
a Zoalaiid iwitioii is being i'orinod. The Ang](t-
ISaxon race will prodoiniiiato, hut it will ('oin])riso the
cloinoiits of'othor nationalities, above all the Gennnii
element, and this new people will bear the .stamp
ot'demoeraey.

The man of the ])oople thinks and feels himself
the master. New Zealand is the i)aradise of the
man who works with his hands. Hence the saying,
' I'iight hours of work, eight hours of play, eight
liours of sleep, and eight shillings a (hiy.' The wages
are enormous when rom])ared with the ])rice of
food and the necessaries of hfe. In South Tslaaul,
some seven or eight years ago, the field labourer
got from 4.S'. to 4.s'. Gd. a day. Now he earns from
7.S'. to 8.S'., and on the west coast as much as lO.v.
Living is v heap : meat costs a third and Hour one
]ialf less than in the mother-eouhtry. jAlthougli
clotlies imported from England are live per cent,
dearer than at home, people can dress more
cheaply in a country where luxury is unknown, and
where the mildness of the climate renders winter
clothing unnecessary.

It is, as I have said, the Eldorado of the
worki.ig-man. But in his brilliant sky tliere are
two black spots to disturb him. In the first place
there are those like him who keep pouring in from

CHAP. 111.]

NORTH LSLANI)

239

Iter

are
lace
lorn

tlic old (M)iintrv, and wIh), by iiuTcasiuLr thcmnidxT
(•t'lumds, tln'L'atcti to lower waL'os or IciiLrtlmu the
lioins of work. He is llierclbre a j^wurn I'oe to
iijimiifratioii.

Tliero is, moreover, tiie class, thouiih far iVom
mmierous, of owners of the large estates, devote(l
mainly to the breeding of sheep and cattle. Tliis
brings me to the great ({uestion of the day, the
question of landed |)r()|)erty. To understand it, it
will be useful to cast a look l)a(d<.' It is well
known that ])ossession of New Zealand was taken
by Cook in the name of George III. In 1814 the
Colonial Office nominally annexed these islands to
the J^ritish Empire. After that, adventurers began
to visit these still mysterious regions. In 182-'),
without the sanction, or rather in opj)osition to the
intentions, of ihe Secretary for the Colonies, a New
Zealand Company was formed in London under th(;
auspices of Lord Durham, with the avowed ob-
ject of buying land from the native chiefs. It
started with the ])rinciple that the natives were the
owners of the soil, and had therefore the right to
sell. This Company, which went through several
changes,** sent out in I8o9, notwithstanding the

'' I borrow the few facts wliich follow — and the aeonraoy of which
has been contirinecl to me by old residents -from the liistoricul
sketch ill Trollope's Aiistralia and New Zealand.

* It became the ' New Zealand Association ' in 1830, and the
♦ New Zealand Land Company ' in 18'6\).

I !

■III

ill

ftl«

1)1

ft at!
u .I'll

.11'

fl "

•'11

\n*

II! ' ■ •

iif

iin

liiHii

240

NEW ZEALAND

[part n.

■I

opposition of tlie Englisli Government, its first
si lip to New Zealand, and bou^rlit some land there,
feiiiiiiiifr to ignore the fact tliat these islands had
been already declared En^rlish colonies, and that,
(M)nsequently, the chiefs of tlie various tribes were
subjects of tlie British Crown. Jkfore the end of
the year the Company's a<ients had bouglit a tract
as large as Ireland. The chiefs were paid with
muskets, gun[)owder, red nightcaps, pocket hand-
kerchiefs, and suchlike chattels, liefore long the
Government found out that in many cases the
natives who had ])rofessed to sell the land had no
title of their own, and that the sales had never
been sanctioned by the real owners. On June 15,
1839, New Zealand was proclaimed a part of New
South Wales, and Captain Ilobson was sent out
wdth pov/ers to assume the functions of governor,
lie landed near the northern end of North Island,
and before founding, somewhat more south, the
t(nvn of Auckland, signed a convention with forty-
six chiefs, known by the name of the Treaty of
Waitangi, which is still law, and is the basis on
which Great Jiritain founds its claim to the posses-
sion of New Zealand. By this Act it was stipu-
lated that the united tribes of New Zealand owned
the (iueen of Great Jh-itain to be their Queen,
ller Majesty, on lier side, (jwned that the land of
New Zealand, for all purposes of private possession.

'■

CBAP. III.]

NORTH ISLAND

241

belonged to the native tribes ; and lastly, she pro-
mised them her protection.

The principle establislicd by this treaty is con-
trary to previous use and pi'actice, which had
been founded on the assumption that savacres had
no riglits of property, and tliat civilised oowers
became, by tlie mere fact of their taking posses-
sion, the owners of the soil ; in otlier words, that
the land belonged to the Crown. That principle
has tliooretically the force of law in tlie Austra-
lian colonies. But in this case tlie tribes had
been recognised as owners, and therefore, when
government was establislicd on the basis of this
treaty, the acquisitions made by the company of
Lord Durham and hJ3 colleagues were subjected to a
rioorous investijzation of claims. It was then found
that the land bought by Europeans for a few ships'
cargoes of goods and miscellaneous cliattels
amounted to more than forty-five million acres. It
was enacted tliat the title of tlie purchaser sliould
be made good by Crown grants, and that these
grant«* should be given only on two conditions :
proof waH required, first, that the tribes had had
power to s<.'Jl, and secondly, tliat an e({uitable
price had been paid. Tlie natural consequence
was the cancx.'lling of most of these sales and the
restoration of their land to the natives. Those
purchasers whose ^-laims were allowed, or their

VOL. I.

''1

111

iit«

««

iiiti

' 1.1

242

NEW ZEALAND

[part II.

assignees, form the small class of big land-holders,
who are now the objects of censure and attack
from the popular party.

Notwithstanding the exceptional generosity,
taxed with weakness, which characterises the pro-
ceedings of the Government towaiJs the Maoris,
the latter have shown very scanty gratitude. In
18-33 they formed aland league against the English.
The ori'dnal centre of this movement, and the chief
theatre of the war that followed, was the Taranaki
district, lying on the w^estern side of the North
Island. It was then that, for the first time, a certain
number of tribal chiefs elected a supreme chief, or,
king, who was, in reality, a mere phantom. Until
1883 Kingsland remained hermetically sealed, and
it is only just now, as we have seen, that the local
government has undertaken to enter that territory
and open it to colonisation.

The constitution of New Zealand dates from
an Act of 1852 passed at the histance of Sir George
Grey. Since then it has been modified, amended,
and assimilated to those which prevail in the other
colonies endowed with a responsible government.
The Maoris enjoy full pohtical rights, and return
members of their colour to the House of Eepresen-
tatives.

I met several large landowners, and found
them all, without exception, either exasperated

CHAP. III.]

NORTH ISLAND

243

[led,
lier

lent,
urn

!sen-

or discouratred, but, above all, irritated against
the Government, which, according to them, was
being dragged at the tail of the extreme party.
On the other hand, it is alleged that the present
Ministers, in order to keep themselves in power,
alTect democratic principles which in their inner
conscience they repudiate, and that they endeavour
to combat in secret Avliat tliey proclaim aloud in
Parliament and in the press. Sir George Grey lias
decidedly placed himself at the head of the popular
party, whose cause he serves Avitli the spirit of a
young tribune and the experience and authority of
an aged statesman.

This (piesiion of landed property is the staple
of conversation. T have heard it discussed by men
in power, by men in opposition, by leading com-
mercial men, by politicians of all sorts, English,
New Zealanders, and Germans.

What they tell me is to this effect : Since
ta. ing possession of Xew Zealand and Australia
the Enjilish Government have committed a j^rave
error, the consequences of which are weighing on
us still. In Australia they declared the land to
be the property of tlie State, thus ousting the
natives altogetL-er. In Xew Zealand, after twisting
and grnning about, and resorting to indirect
methods, they have done the same, with this
diiference, that they have ' reserved ' some dis-

B 2

1'.!'
i.r!'.
hi'

hi I

III ><l^l

J„!!W

iiil'

, '

iHMti

244

NEW ZEALAND

[part ir.

•-•* I

.tricts, where the natives still remain the owners of
the soil. All the rest has been left to tlie disposal
of the local cfovernment and legislature. The
result of this is (speakinir only of New Zealand),
that a very limited number of persons, about a
thousand or twelve hundred, have acquired, at a
minimum price, by means of money borrowed in
England, eleven million acres, representing a
capital of 500 million pounds, of which 270 millions
are still unpaid. Tliese large landowners rule the
Government and command a majority in the
Parliament. Tlie Parliament, or General Assembly,
is composed of two Chambers, the Legislative
Council and the House of Eepresentatives. The
ID -rubers of the Legislative Council or Upper
Chamber are appointed for life by tlie Governor
in concert with the Ministry, but since the Minis-
ters do their best to favour the large landowners,
the doors of this Chamber are oidy open to
tho^ci landowners or their friends. Li the House
of liepre^entatives the method of election assures
to them, at least, a powerful inlluence. This
explains the situation. An immense portion of
Turritorv is in the luinds of a few moneved men,
several of whom onj(\v an income of from 20,000/.
to oO.Otl^/., and wlio have no interest in cultiva-
ting the soil because they find it profitable to leave
it in sheep-runs. They look only to preventing

Diva-
jave
Itiiig

CHAP. III.]

NORTH ISLAND

245

smaller men from acquiring small holdings, and,
thanks to tlieir influence with one Ministry after
another, and with a Parliament composed largely
of their creatures, they seem likely to perpetuate
this state of things, to the serious injury of new
immigrants and the detriment of the land, which
thus remains uncultivated.

This question is complicated by that of public
works, highways, and roads and railways.

A Bill, passed by the two Houses under the
pressure of public opinion, which was in a highly
irritated condition just when railways were being
commenced, declared that, in view of the eventual
increase in the value of the lands traversed by the
various lines, the owners of tliose lands should con-
tribute, in proportion to their means, to the ex-
penses of construction. This Act has been repealed,
and the owners, whose lands have increased tenfold
in value since the railway was made, have not
contributed a penny to its making. Hence the
amxer of the small owners and immia'rants. If it
is a question of running a line of railway tlirougii
land which is either unsold or belonging to natives,
who are always disposed to sell, tlie friends of those
in power are guided in their purchases by hints
given from oflicial quarters, and lots bought Ijy them
one day for a pound are worth ten pounds the
next. It is under the pressure of public indignation

ti!

"'(

U il(

III <4\
lllll'i'"

nil

III

{ I

til

'Ik

246

NEW ZEALAND

[part II.

tliat tlie project of land nationalisation has come
lo tlie front.

It is needless to add that I am not vonchincf for
the truth of these assertions ; but sucli are the
cliar2fes brou^dit airainst tlie Government by a

cor' J

larire portion of the public, and b}^ some of the
foremost men in tlie colonv.

8ir George Grey has drafted a Bill containing a
declaration tliat all tlie soil of New Zealand is national
property, and a Commission is to be a[)p()inted for
the ])urpose of valuing the land in both islands.
Sir George estimates the average value at a pound
an acre. The acre is to be charo-ed Avith a land-
tax of fourpence, but this tax is to be increased
])rogressively in pro[)ortion to the numl)er of acres
concentrated in the same hands. The ])i"om()ter of
this Bill hopes that, by this means, the large land-
owners will be forced to sell a portion of their
lands to the smaller ones and the new-comers. I
did not conceal from him my surjnise at hearing
him favour schemes which seemed to me essentiallv
Socialistic. He rei)lied that desperate diseases re-
quired desperate remedies. It remains to be
seen whether the remedy is not worse than the
disease.

The Radical party, who know or profess to
know that the future is theirs, go still farther.
They demand simpiy the abolition of property and

CHAP. III.]

NORTH ISLAND

247

„'}

the adoption of the system of leaseliold, for a fixed
time, not to exceed twenty-one years.

To judge from what Ministers liave told me,
and wliat they say in pubUc, tliey would cordially
agree witli tliose wlio demand tlie nationalisation
of the soil and the complete and al)solute cessation
of the sale of Crown lands. The entire property in
the land, they say, ought to pnss to the nation. Tlie
freeholders sliould be turned into holders under
the law. The liill whicli is to embody tliese
arrangements will not be passed immediately, but it
will be passed at a day not far distant. Meanwhile,
the Government is no longer to sell any Crown
lands, but, by way of experiment, to let them out
in small lots for a fixed time.

Such is tlie programme of the Ministers of the
day. Their sincerity is doubted, by wliat riglit or
on what ground I know not. ]3ut, sincere or not,
their language is only the expression of tlie settled
wish of the masses, wdio, if they are not yet in
possession of supreme pow^r, will become so
inevitably, surely, and in the near future.

While writing down in my journal the facts and
reflections above recorded, the ' Zealandia ' is
skirtino- the arid, rocky, and broken coasts of
the northernmost pai"t of Xortli Island, inhabited

III' '
'1" II

I £

W
lllt'f

It'

If 12

ir li!

I! 'in '

in J!i

iiif

mil'

lit

■',

248

NEW ZEALAND

[part II.

by a few hundred whites, and containing an un-
known but inconsiderable number of nomadic
natives. During the whole of this voyage the
sea, which does little honour to its name, has
treated u.s very rougldy. But the American
leviathan, vvhich never rolls, and pitches but very
slightly, moves on none the less majestically, if not
rapidly, to its destination. One day we were able
to enjoy an extremely rare sight, that of a storm lit
up by a splendid sin. At length, on the morning
of the 17th of November, the 'Zealandia' passed
between the heads of Sydney Bay, which suddenly
displayed before us its incomparable beauties.

PAET III.

AUSTRALIA.

CHAPTER I.

PASSAGE FKOM COLOMBO TO ALBANY, GLENELCJ,
AND MELBOURNE.^

April 9 to 27, 1884.

Eruptions of submarine volcanoes — The Coco Islands — Albany —
A Cyclone — Glenelg — Arrival at Melbourne.

The ' Sliaiiiion,' of the P. and 0. Company, left
Colombo, Ceylon, April 10, 1884. The sky, by
a favour exceptional at this season, is unceasingly
lavish of its smiles. We glide rajndly but with
gentle motion over the Indian Ocean, which

' I landed three times in Australia : at ^Iclbourne, on my way
from the Cape ; at Sydney, on my return from New Zealand ;
and at Melbourne again, after finishing my tour in India. For the
convenience of the reader, I have discarded chronological order, and
compressed into one chapter the notes I took during my three visits
to Australia. I have already given an account of my voyages from
Africa to New Zealand, and thence to Sydney. By an anachronism
which I cani'>ot avoid, and for which the reader must forgive me, I
begin the third part of this book with tlie description of my last
voyage to Australia. The account of my unpleasant passage through
Torres Straits follows in its natural order.

III-! '

'I f
MP

I' I

.||i

1. 1

lllff

nil

250

AUSTRALIA

[part III.

usually, at this time of year, is lashed by fear-
ful ]iurri(%ane.s. In some jjhices we see far of!
the white streaks formed by the ])umiee-stonG
thrown up above tlie surfa('e of the water by sub-
marine volcanoes.

We ])ass near a <]froup of islets, tlie Coros,
possessed and cultivated by a Scotchman and his
family under the iJutch flajjf. This l?obinson Crusoe,
I am told, is doiuir uncommonly well. A small
sailinir-vessel which he owns fornix his means of
communicaiion between his little kiiiLrdom and l^a-
tavia, where, for him, the civilised world be^nns.

As we proach the coasts of Australia tlie
weathei" bi'eaks U}). The waves sweep tlie steamer
from stem to stern. To enable me to ixet from
my cabin on the fore-deck, near the pens, to the
large dininix saloon, a ])arly of sailors has fre-
quently to be sent to my assistance. But I prefer
solitude, even though I have to share it with tlie
slieep, to the huge cabin filled with sick passengers,
singing ladies, and crying babies.

At hMigtli we sight Cape Lcenwin, and the
next day (April 21) the ' Shannon ' enters Knig
George's Sound, distant from Colombo r>,785
miles. Nothing can be less cheerful ; at first,
low rocks speckled Avith sand; then the bay
with a fi'amework of rocky hills, either bare or
covered with heather. Not a tree, not a trace

«i

CIIAP, I.] COLOMUO lO ALBANY, ETC.

251

«l

of cult ival ion ; but a M'liolo floot, or sovornl fleets,
could I'idc there at auclior witli ease. \otliiu<r
would l)e easier than to t'ortily the entraiie.e ;
and tliat is wliat tliey intend to (h).

The mail-steamer has anchored hef'oi'o the
frro-\vin_Lr town of Albany. Seen fi-oni a distnnee,
it I'eminds me of the small scmjx)!! towns of
Cornwall oi- Ti'eland. Close by, it looks like
what it is, an Australian town in endn'yo:
white houses with j^rey roofs, streets marked
out by line, and of excessive width, still Avaitin'X
for houses to border them. There is a line
AuLdican chui'chand a very pretty itoman Catholic
cha])el, Avhere a Spnuish ])riest officiates. The
distance from here to rerlh, the ciipilnl of
Western Australia, is about 2o0 miles. In a
short time a railway M'ill connect the two towns;
Albany will then become the entrepot of wine,
Avheat. and other i)roduce of the country about
Perth, whei'e Grerman colonists ])lay an imjxu'tant
part. The climate is mild, even in winter; never
very hot, but always damj). You would schmu to
be in Ireland. The trade-winds blow from west and
east alternately throuii'hout the year.

]\[r. Loftie, the airent of tlie Colonial Govern-
ment, who is also called Uc-ident, and wlio lives

th 1

ii."

in a snuLT cottau'e which, by a

miracle, the hurricanes have not vet sweiit awav

' 1 ± %j

nil,

252

AUSTRALIA

[part hi.

<•

kindly did tlic lionoiir.s for mo. And liow fond
tlicy Jiro of this town ; in their lycs it is cliarniinji,
and, sihovc all, rich in a futnrc of ])rosj)ority !
Already, throiiLdi tlie prism of their colonial imagi-
nation, they sec these lon^' roads, now bordered
with quickset hedjjes, transformed into roads lillcd
with people on foot and liorseback, with steam
omnibuses and brilliant equipn^^es; and they fall
into ecstasies beforehand over the beauty of the
edifices which will rise one day on either side.
It is this I'aith to which they adhere, so charac-
teristi(; of colonists, this robust and simj)le faith
in the future, Avhich ur^^es them forward, and,
notwithstandiuii; all ])artial failures, will lead
them to success. So true is it that a man only
achieves <i;reat things by having the courage to at-
tempt the im])ossible. Thus they made me admire
their club, a little bit of a house, where a shelf with
a few books upon it represents the future pid)lic
library ; the Anglican church ; some good-looking
houses near the harbour ; gardens in endjryo whose
future trees and shrubs will have to stand the rude
onslaughts of the trade-winds; and, lastly, the view
of the bay, which is desolate now, but which will not
be so when the sand shall have been changed into
cultivated fields and the brushwood into parks,
and when the rocks shall be crowned with pretty
houses shaded by the eucalyptus or the Norfolk

;it»

CHAP. I.]

tOLOMIlO TO ALIiANV, KTC.

253

/ith
blic
:ing
lose

IGW

not
nto

KS,

itty
klk

Isiland pines, and steanil)nat.s su.ill ])louLrli tlie
waters of that silent and solitary lagoon. Is this a
droani ? Assuredly not. All this has heeii s(>en
elsewhere, and why should it not he seen in
Western Australia? The secret is to have a (irni
pur])<)se, and this they have.

A steam-launch takes u\q to tlic ' Shannon,'
which I roach soaked to the skin hv the s|)rav
and I'ain. The weather suddenly tni'ns fine and
cold. Old sailors wIkj know tiiese latitudes shake
their heads and say nothinjj. Is this a shjn of ill?

The next day we were caught in a cyclone; it
blew from the north and drove us southward.
The sea was magnificent — an immense canldron
of boiling water. "When, at times, a j)ale i-ay of
light for an instant piei-ces through the clouds, the
waves assume sa])phire tints; but when the sun
hides itself behind the grey, white, or black (mrtairi,
the sea looks like a huge winding-sheet ready to
envelop us in its folds. We are terribly tossed
about. Having the hurricane-de(;k all to myself,
I am fastened to my chair, and the chair is nuade
secure with ropes. The s])ectacle is sublime. Is
there any danger ? A needless question indexed;
and what is the good of asking it? The pi'oblem
is how to get out of a funnel v.-hich is moving
probably in a southward direction, and the diameter
of which is probably some twelve miles. But

't
11

1 *

11 M

i' h

Iii«

II"

|iH*Mi

■ 1

(

254

AUSTRALIA

[part III.

■* 7

wiiere is tlic centre? Therein lies the wliole dif-
ficulty. I have heard it said of captains that they
are guided, in such cases, by unerrin<r signs, I
have lieard others declare that it would be folly
to put laith in these signs. Jie that as it may, one
thin*^' is certain: we must i«:et out of this ma'ac
circle, or we are sure to be swallowed up.

It is night, but not a pitch-dark niglit. Pale
glimmers Hit over the waters. Whence they come
I know not. I doze at times and dream of the
radiant sky of that grand and noble country which
I have just left behind me. I seem to be jolting
on the howdali of an elephant in full flight across
the burning sands of Eajpootana. Then, awaking
with a start, the stern reality comes back to my
mind. But curiosity, and an ardent longing to fore-
cast the issue of our adventure, suppress every
other emotion. Shall we succeed in breaking
throuQ;h the circle ? A sailor, wdio has become
my friend, comes from time to time to arrange my
furs and bring me the news. He tells me that
nearly all the passengers are sick, and that few of
them know how matters stand.

At lenixth morninc^ dawns, but the hurricane loses
nothing of its violence. The wliole day passes in
this manner. From my seat I command a view
of the several decks. The ship is excellent ; the
engines very powerful ; the English captain, officers,

L ; !

'111

■Ml

CE\P. I.] COLOMBO TO AI.BANV, ETC.

::)."»

my
liat
of

the
ers,

and crew all to match. Tlicy seem all impressed
with the importance of tlieir duties, but I iind no
trace of emotion in their manly faces. 'J'he sailors
and servants, who are Lascars and Malays, seem
demoralised. Fear blanclies their dark clieeks.

The night was still very bad, but this time I
slept soundly. Xext day (A})ril 24), at live
o'clock in the moi'nijiLf, the ' Shannon ' cleared the
area of the cyclone. Tlie sun and the sea-horizon
being now visible, tlie ca])tain is able to make his
observations, and finds that tlie vessel lias l)een
driven 383 miles to south, Avithout advancing a
mile towards her destination.

At noon we r-iirht the Kangaroo Islands, in-
habited by tliree hundred wiiite men, wlio live by
fishing. At nine o'clock in the evening we arrive
off Glenelg, a sort of outskirt of Adelaide, the
capital of South Austraha. Tlie tempest continues,
and thoujzh sheltered by the shores, the ' Shannon '
rolls at her moorings.

We passed hal^' of the next day at this terrible
anchorage, engaged in unshipping the cargo. I
was not able to see Adelaide, the capital of this
colony, and the centre of a highly cultivated dis-
trict, which produces corn and wine, and has made
remarkable progress during the last few years.
Among the most prosperous of the planters there
are many Germans.

ill 1 1

256

AUSTRALIA

[PAKT III.

Sauthcrn and Western Australia receive the
rains broiiixht by tlie south and south-westerly
winds. The soil is so warm that the water eva-
porates before sinking into it, unless the wet weather
has been preceded by a stron " wind of sufficient
duration to make tlie earth cold. The atmospheri-
cal conditions of Victoria and New South Wales
are quite diderent. These colonies, being sul)ject
to the inlhience of tlie equatorial regions, get their
rains from the north and north-east.

On tlie ITtli the ' Shannon,' beinir too laro:e a
vessel to ascend tlie Yarra-Yarra, drops anchor by
the quay of Williamstown, at the entrance of Port
Phillip. An hour afterwards we are at Melbourne.

^57

I I'

CHAPTER II

VICTORIA.

From October 5 to 15, 1883.
From April 27 to May 5, 1884.

Historical notice — Effects of the discovery of the prold mines —
Apjiearance of Melboui'ne — The intircolonial riiilway.

The liistory of this colony is very simple.^ At
tlie beginning' of tlio century a lieutenant in the
English navy arrived at the entrance of p bay,
up which he sailed and which was named Tort
Phillip, in honour of Colonel Phillip, the hrst
Governor of New South Wales. In 18oo, a cer-
tain John Batman, ])orn near Sydney, and settled
in Tasmania, then Van Diemen's Land, came
hither and signed a convention with the natives.
A Mr. Fawkner and some other Tasmanian far-
mers followed on the heels of the first pioneei* of
the future colonv of Victoria, and FaAvkner settled
on the piece of ground where, a shoi't time after-

' I think I shall do well to remind the reader hricfly of tlie
origin of the Australian colonies. See Handbook for Anstraliti
and New Zealand, antl A. Trollopc's Australia and New Zealand.

VOL. I. S

1 '

I '!« '

II •'III

" m

«i If

!«

:|ii'

lilif
|;t:»

•M

V.l

urn.

2^8

AUSTRALIA

LI'AHT III.

wards, rose tlie metropolis of tlie colony, the town
of Melbourne. The dealincfs of" tliese first settlers
with the native chiefs, from whom thev had boui>ht
their land, wei'e not recou'nised by the Governor
of New South Wales, the Enjilish (lovernmenl
havin^U ado])ted the ])rinciple that the soil of
Austi-alia is the property of the Crown, and that
the natives have no riLjht to dispose of it. In
ISoG the first En^li&ii official arrived, and in tlie
next year the new s^ tlement exchanu'ed its oris^i-
nal name of Glenelg tor that of Melbourne, after
the Prime Minister of the day. At that time, and
for some years after, this capital consisted of a
few wooden huts, two wooden public-houses, and
a wooden church, for whic a tree served as a
belfry Mutton was still scarce, and so kanpfaroo
flesh was eaten. By an Act of 1850 Port Phillij)
was made a separate colony under the name of
Victoria, and in 18-3'j received a constitution witli
a res])onsible government.

This young colony, the youngest of all except
Queensland, began under far from favourable aus-
])ices. She could not hope to compete with
South Australia, which had already become a
wheat granary ; nor with New South Wales, so far
as producing avooI was concerned. She struggled on
therefore, with some difficulty, till, in 1851, some
goldmines of extraordinary wealth were discovered

[chap. ir.

VICTORIA

xccpt
au.s-

ne a
o far
ed on
some
ereci

259

near Ballaarat. From that moment the fortune of
Melb()<;.iie was made. Gold, gold, and still more
U'old. InnniLi'rants arrived in multitudes, belonii-inii-
for the most ])art to the lower classes. In a short
time gold and democracy reigned, as they reign
there still, supreme. A walk in the streets is
enough to sliow tliis. Gold and democracy have
left their stamp on everything.

Speaking here not of deuiocracy, but of gold, I
ajn reminded of the saying often licard iu California,
and repeated here : ' Mining is a curse.' ' Let
us cherisli no delusions,' exclaimed a Protestant
])reacher at San Francisco ; ' no society has ever
been able to orii'anise itself in a satisfactory manner
on a Lfold-bearina* soil. Even Xature herself is de-
ceitful ; she corrupts, seduces, and betrays man.
She laughs at his lal)ours. Slie turns liis toil
into fjamblinix and his word into a lie.""^ I
heard the same story in South Africa, in New
Zealand, in ^Vustraha. liut the gold mines,
often so fatal to faithful and constant wor-
shippers of the golden calf, become transformed
into a blessing of Ileavt;.. to tliose wlio, disabused
by their cruel deception, resolutely turn their backs
upon them. These men are not long in discover-
ing, within rei;ch of th.eir hands, other more

^ I have quoted this passage ah-eady m my Proinenadc autour
du Monde.

s 2

I
I

•I'll. .

'k i

;'!l
,;!ii

It 1 1

\i\'

,., iii i

(

I! [

i I

rV'^

ir^

:h\\

260

AUSiKALIA

[part hi.

solid, more real, and ever miiltiplyinfj treasures on
this virjiin soil, on which they would never have
set foot if the precious metal had not attracted
them. It is the same with all countries where gold
mines are found.

Melbourne^ October 5-11, 1883. — I am enjoy-
ing repose, and tlie kind hospitality of Lord
Normanby. Early in the morni.ig I stroll about
the grounds in front of Government House, and
with tlie aid of a small key find my way into the
IJotanical Grardens. And what a charminjjf si^ht
it is ! Instead of tlie eucalyptus-trees, wliicli in
this country remind us at every step that tlie
diameter of the globe separates us from Europe,
I find here trees of f jreign importation. Conifers
predominate, and among them Norfolk Island
])ines are naturally the most conspir-uous. "VVell-
laid-out ])aths gradually descend the slo])e which
leads to the lake. Superb swans — some snow-
white and others of a rich velvety black — are
gliding majestically along the water, which reflects
the gigantic trees upon the banks and the exotic
plants on some of the islets. From an eminence
here the eye takes in the vast ])anorama of Mel-
bourne. The town, with its suburbs, stands on
two liills, and on the valley between them, and

CHAP. II.]

VICTORIA

261

aiu

tlieii straggles on other rising ground beyond.
Look around you wliere you will, you see nothing
but houses and gardens, and on the horizon, the
faintly marked ouiline or a chain of mountains, like
softly tinted clouds, whose colours vary with the
changes of the atmosphere. The liotanical Gar-
dens, witli tlu'ir groves and summer-houses, tiieir
rivulets and lakes, flanked by the Government
House, wliicli is imposing, and would be hand-
some were it not for its tower, deserve their repu-
tation, and seem to me unique of their kind. The
fresh and variegated verdure contrasts pleasingly
with the greyish-pink masses of the houses and
spires of tlie town which form the background
of the picture. The Yarra-Yarra Hows between
you and the principal quarter of the town. The
rest melts into the distance, and it is only by ilie
different intensity of light that the eye can mea-
sure the enormous area covered by this young
metropolis.

I spent much time in strolling througli the
streets. Not, indeed, that t ,iey seem to present any
features of ])articular interest, but there is life and
animation in them, notwithstanding tlie general
slackness of business which prevails here as else-
wliere. In the middle of the dav the women,
all well dressed, are in the majority ; it is only
in the morninirs and towards eveninix. after the

■ \
t

!(<'

Il!l

i t

lllll

>l It

lltl

iii"fl '

((

ki-

hi . ;

262

AUSTRALIA

PART 111.

shops and countiiiQ'-lioii^e^ are closed, tliat tliemale
])opulatioii ap|)ears. I'lie men liave all a family
likeness ; they are seel:i/i^ for i^old, thoiijjth not in
the mines. Everyone is bent on this object. Hence
a certain similarity of expi-essicm Avhich is seen in all
their faces. It is a sort of moral nniform which
they have all pnt on. The women have a less pre-
occupied and more prepossessinix air. Towards four
o'clock ladies bcLnn to ci-owd the streets where
the best shops are found. Fine carriages are then
to be seen, each with a coachman in livery, but
without a footman. There are no men-servants ;
those of Lord Noinumby were brouirht by him
f^'om Entrland. Not long ago they would have
left him to hurry off to the gold mines. To-day.
tliey stick to their nmster.

Two classes of buildings attract my notice : tlie
banks, by their somewhat pretentious magnihcence ;
the churches, by the variety of style, in v.diich the
riothic element predominates. In the best-built
thoroughfai'cs there are gaps which strike the eye
unpleasantly ; these are plots of land which are
waiting for purchasers. It is needless to add that
the s^treets intersect each other at right angles, and
stretch out to interminable lengths. At points
where they mount up abruptly they seem to touch
tlie sky. The <ame is seen at San Francisco. Al-
' er, Melbourne itself is more

i t

CHAP. II.

VICTORIA

Ainericii than nf Enfrlaiul ; but nicii ami woiiumi
have preservc'd the British tvi)e. 'J'lie streets, or
portions of streets, where thi're are no shops, ai'e

)at HI tlie eonnnereial (|iiar-

}jhinted witli trees
ters trees are proliibited. Tlie municipahty, which
is eoniposed ])artly of sli()pkee])ers, considers that
tlie screen of foliage prevents tlic windows from
at traetiiiLT customers.

Many of tlie buihlinirs arc tastefully construc-
ted, and it strikes rne tliat the architects liave
studied at liome, and in France and England. It
is easy to recognise tlie model which they have
<'o])ied, oi- which has inspired them. The large edi-
fice containing tlie ollices of the Alinisters — a line
specimen of Kenaissance architecture — the hand-
some lloman Catholic cathedral, in the Gothic style,
and several other churches, are I'eally works of art.
No doubt with gold — and of gold there is no lack —
it is easv enouLdi to erect frreat public buildinij'^.
But here they l)uild them well. This is a rarer
merit than people often think, and it is only i'air
to notice it.

The inhabitants are })r()ud of their town, and
they have reason to be so. Considering tliat little
more than forty years have passed since Melbourne
was a desert tract, inhabited by savages and kanga-
roos, the whole may Avell a])])ear a dream.

Government Hou^^e, which, as I have said.

1,1 1. 1

t Ot

,1 •

'I'
i|;

li'

Mi;

:l'
illl

! 'lit :

' :1l

!i|

ii;f
"III

iilk

264

AUSTRALIA

[PART III.

■'

crowns a lioijiht outside tlio town on tlio loft hank
of the Yarra-Yarra, was huik a fi'w years airo at
tlie ex])ensc of the colony, at a cost of 1 ()(),()()()/.
^J'he hall-room is ei^diteen feet longer than the great
hall of Buckingham Palace. The Victorians wish
to outstri]) all the world. They are found fault
witli and riiliculed for this andjition, but, as it seems
to me, unfairly. Peoide who have no misgivings,
whose cnterj)rise is unlimited, and who are checked
by no obstacle — these ai'e made of the right stulf
and can go a long way. It is not simply ostentation,
it is a proof of force and daring, and force and
daring lead to success when they do not lead to
ruin.

The size of this edifice, and especially of the
rece])tion-rooms, increases the expenses of the Go-
vernor, and becomes socially a cause of embarrass-
ment. Every Victorian has a right to be present at
the ball given by the Governor, whose hospitality
knows no limits but those of the locality. Thus, the
hirger the rooms the more mixed is the company,
but no one is shocked at this, except those who
cannot or do not wish to understand things as they
really are.

My host took me round the suburbs, and to
the villaoe of Kew. It was a drive of about fifteen

CUAP. II.]

VICTORIA

265

tit
lity
thu

iiey

miles over uiululatiiiK o round, traversed l>y ox<el-
lent roads, which were in fact wide streets, and
seemed wider than tliey really were tVom the
insiLrnilicant hei*d»t of the lioiises; I oiiiiht rather
to call them cottages. These are tastefully built,
roofed with corruLiat (1 iron, surrounded on three
sides with vei'andahs, and sei in the midst of sm;dl
fjardens, or ;it least with pretty lawns in fronl,
which now look fresh an<l charmini,^ hut whi(di fov
nine months of the year are smothered in dust. It
is not only the well-to-do or rich people of ^lel-
bourne who live here ; there are also whole quai'ters
inhabited by small ])eople. Though we passed
through at a l)risk trot, I had time to notice the
bright windows an<l clean white curtains, and to
admire the order and neatness which marked these
modest dwellings. The Yarra-Yarra imparts some
variety ,0 the monotonous succession of cottages
and gardens ; it cree])S and winds about between
the weeping-willows planied on its banks. At
some places, but not nuxny,it might even be called
l)icturesque.

Ill

■III'
"111

II! li

1(1 '

<i"

to
een

At this season the changes from winter to
spring, from rain to sunshine, from storm to calm,
are very sudden. The sky has a scowling appear-
ance, and even when it smiles for a moment, it

' i>

IMAGE EVALUATION
TEST TARGET (MT-3)

/^.^Si

[/.

J^
%

1.25

l.i^|21 12.5
■^ lii |2.2

U |j,6

'# c^^

^;.

'> >

'■^

Hiotographic

Sciences
Corporation

23 WEST MAIN STREET

WEBSTER, N.Y. 14S80

(716) 873-4503

H 1

266

AUSTRALIA

[PAKT III.

smiles grimly, liig lieavy clouds cast tlicir loiij.^
l)lack shadows on the earth. Gusts of wind dis-
perse them and bring them back again. The sun
is oppressive and the wind freezing.

The public li'nrary is open to everyone from ten
o'clock in the morninir till ten o'clock at niLdit.
l^ach person finds for himself, and puts back on its
shelf, the book which he wants. I found there a
very fair number of readers, but most of them were
indillerently dressed and seemed to have come
only to while away their time. They certainly did
not belong to the better classes of the ])opulation.
The i'lt'te work, they have no time to read.

This eveninof, a charminj; little dinner at
Government House. Amonix the <xuests is a
young and pretty Australian lady, who is startinii,
to-nu)rrow, with her children, for London. Tier
husband, a big squatter, is to follow her at once.
This young couple speak of the voyage as one
speaks of a trip from London to Brighton. The
wife leaves in the morninsi, the husband is to take
an evening train. At the Antipodes, in fact, you
lose the feeling of distance, and cease to trouble
yourself about accidents at sea. When a man
lives on the top story, he runs up and downstairs
without noticing it. His visitors, especially those
who come seldom to the house, reach the top
landniix out of breath. Mountaineers walk, with-

CHAP. 11. J

VICTORIA

267

out tlic smallest sense of fear, alonj^' jirecipices and
Daths the very siiflit of Avliich would fill with
terror a dweller on the plain. It is all a matter of
habit.

Melbourne^ from April 21 to Mtnj ."), 1884. — Thij

it to th

ind I h

IS my second ^

here just as winter is approaehiiiL'. it is tiie last
glimpse of autumn. saj)])hir(' weather as they say in
Turkey; a brilliant sun, a cloudless sky of a li<fht
but somewhat opaque blue, like Sevres china. The
air is brisk and exhilaratin<j, the country is burnt
up by the ^ireat heat of the summer, and the urass
is changed into dust. The leaves are still tireen,
but of that dull and sombre hue of ever-<j;reens
which, in spite of the chauLres of the seasons, wear
the same livery throughout the year. ]']x('ept in
the Botanical Gardens and the fine ])lantati()ns in
the upper part of the town there is tlie eucalyptus,
nothing but the eucalyptus, Avith its drooping
leaves and anarled and twisted branches, which
seem to say to you, ' Do not come here to seek for
shade ; I have none to ofler you.' Hut I cai-e little
for what is passing on the earth, I look uj) to the
heavens ; I breathe this delicious air, and, after
the stir and excitement of the last lew months. I
seem to be enjoying in this earthly Paradise the
repose of the blest.

¥/■

■111 '

m
I

.III"

III

!■

■r •^;i;^;;;'ommimmm

f I'

268

AUSTRALIA

[part hi.

Lord and Lady Xormanljy liave left. Tlie
Queen's flag no longer floats from the tower of
Government House, and tlie closed doors and
windows sliow that the representative of the
Crown is away. Everyone talks to me of the late
Governor. When he was here, they spoke of him
less often. Tliat is a testimony in his favour. In
quiet times, a high oflicial has no need to figure con-
stantly in public. It is enough for him to keep the
machinery going, to oil it a little now and then,
to avoid all unnecessary fuss about himself and
never to make a conmiotion. This is the way to
inspire confidence hi the stability of public afl'airs.
Without such confidence there is no work, without
work tliere is no public prosperity. This is the
view taken by the men, most of them persons of
ini[)ortaiice, whom I meet at the Melbourne Club.
Tlie late Governor — a son of the Marquis of
Normanby, who was my fellow-ambassador at
Paris during the second Republic and the coup
d'etat — had been an active member of tlis Whig
})arty in tlie House of Commons, and succeeded,
during his long career as Governor at Halifax, in
New Zealand, and at Victoria, in turning to account
the experience he had acquired in the English
Parliament. He is one of those instances which are
still to be met with in Enirland, of a statesman
grafted on the sportsman. Though colonial

Inglish
;h are

lesman
)lonial

CHAP. II.]

VICTORIA

269

etiquette did not allow him to pay visits or to
show himself in the streets, except with an cfjiierry
at his carriage door, yet once outside the town he
himself drove his four spanking horses M'irh tlie
skill of a perfect whip, through this crowd of
horny-handed sons of toil, avIio, in spite of all their
democratic habits, seemed pleased to look at a real
Lord of the old country-

I roam about the Botanical Gardens, which,
thanks to the water sup])lied by the Yarra-Yarra,
have kept their freshness. It isSunchiy, and so the
paths and lawns are filled with visitors. Some men
and women belonging to the Salvation Army are
singing and preaching to an audience gathered
around them on the turf. There is some lauLditer
and coarse ' chaff' from the crowd. Foremost
among these rude jesters are the ' larrikins,' that
breed of rou'dis who infest the biir towns in
Australia. The soldiers of the Salvation Armv,
particularly the women have a very oi'dinary
appearance. Their songs remind me of those of
our blind men on the bridges. From time to time
one of these devotees takes to [)reachiiig. 'When
will you die f* You don't know. Ferliaps in two
hours, perhaps in three, perhaps to-niglit, perliaps
to-morrow. The Saviour stretches out Ills arms

"|:

1:;

! i

'III'

^ 'tli:
ill

III"

I-

Mil

I
li

2;o

AUSTRALIA

[PAllT III.

t<» you. Iicpc'.it.' TliL' woinaii who is pi-eacliiiiix
I'c^pcats these words over and ovci' auaiii in the
lone of some scliool-jiirl who recites her lesson
with an ac'('oin|)anini('nt of t]ie Liestuivs of an
automaton. Fresli launliter follows from tlie
crowd, and fresh jeers are Imi'led by the ' Uirrikins.'
A man wlio looks half like? a elerjiyman, and lialf
like a mountebank, (brects tlie e.\hil)ition. Xo-
ihini!' can be less edii'yin^*. And yet, after all, may
not this l)e a protest, a lirotescjue protest, if you
will, aiiainst tiie j^n'eat movement which is tending
to unchrisiianisc the world ?

1 am pleased with the club where I am staying.
]\ly sitting-room resembles a cell, and I slee[) on
a little bed like a monk's. There are one or two
straw chairs, but the washing-stand and tub are
])rinceh', and that is all I want. The meals are
good and well served in a capital dining-room ;
and in the library, with large windows open to
the air and sunshine, I can take my ease in the
j'oomy arm-chairs. Besides the Australian papers,
which can only interest those who are on the look-
out for gold, or Avho wish to buy or sell land, sheep, or
cattle, there are the newspapers and latest publica-
tions of London. The service is in keeping with
everything else. In short it is a model club. If

!i, ^.

cnAi' II.]

VICTORIA

271

tliere is no difficulty in beiiiLi" adniittccl to ilie
receptions and l)alls uiven by tiie (iovernor, it is
not so easy to u'ain admittance to the MelbouiMie
Club. ^len who have risen from tlie ranks of the
democracy soon beeome aristocrat.s. The spirit of
exclusiveness, which seems so deeply rooted in tJic
human bi'east, lauuhs at the laws of e({uality.

story proves this ; and my travels round the
world confiri.i the truth.

' 'I

.; i

Ill .

TheUniversitv, a fine building surrounded with
ourdens, is, in every sense of the word, a cradle of
science. Both professors and students ai'e highly
spoken of. The jireat enemy of science in a new
country is, and will be for a lonutiine to come, the
universal craving to make a foi'tunt^ as quickly as
])ossible. Science itself is not the object of a youni?
Australian student's aspirations ; he re_frards it
simply as a means of enabling him to reach more
speedily the goal in view, and this goal is money-
making. Those who are exceptions to this rule —
and some exceptions there are — must be first-class
men, and, if in addition to their zeal they have
any natural gifts, they will become the lights and
leaders of science.

'Ill '

4
m

■ i

\ ill

' i:r«

i. ;

lit'

272

AUSTRALIA

[part III,

A fancy lias seized ine, for tlie first time in my
present tour, to ^ro to the J^lay. I walk clown
Bourkc Street, one of the main thorou^'h fares
running parallel with Collins Street, and step,
throu<j[h a vestil)ule s])lendidly lit with the electric
li<fht, into a hall nearly dark and half empty. I
am in the Opera House. The name is more ele-
^'ant than the sta^re or the audience. Oflenhach's
Ijdvhe Bleue is the o])era, arranged specially for this
theatre. The ])ie('e, in the form in which it is
presented, the company, the stage-scenery, the
oi'chestra, the theatre itself, and the audience are
altogether far from attractive. Let me hasten to
add that I am sinLndarlv unfortunate in haviuLT
chosen this theatre; nor let us forget that in
London and Paris there are places of public
amusement no whit su})erior to this den which
is honoured with the ])()mpous name of Opera
House.

Some young members of my club, to whom I
had told my misadventure, proud of their town,
and anxious to eflace this bad imj)ression, were
kind enough to take me to the Bijoa theatre,
which, both as regards the house and the audience,
is excellent, and where I saw a piece capitally
acted. 1 am told that very good English companies
are sometimes to be met with in Australia, but that
first-rate actors rarely or never cun.c here, since

:|-

CIIAI'. II.]

VICTORIA

2/3

lOin I
Itowii,

Avere

loatre,

lience,

>itally

»anies
It that

since

tliL* Australian at ^rdhonrnp, as at Sydney and
Adelaide, l)ays only lour, and on «:!'eat occasions
at the utmost live shilliu^^s I'or his stall, lie never
^ocH beyond. These prices would not suit a Tatti,
or a Nilsson, or other stars ol' lirst uui<j:nitude.
^ladanie Uistori, the ([ueen of tragedy, ventured
many years ago into tliese Antarctic regions; hut,
it' what I heard is true, it needed the harvest she
reaped in Xorth and South America, where gold is
lavished on the celebrities of the drama, to make
up the delicit on her tour in Australia. 'L'his
])recedent is not encoura«iinuf for the stars of our
European stages.

Can we blame the Australians for this? For
my part, I think they are right. The ijunu'use
majority of them are occupied in making money,
and those who have niade it are far from nu-
merous. Nobody likes to di'aw a bill of exchan<!e
on a future of nncertamty ; accordingly they pay
their four shillings for a stall, and no more ; aiid in
so doing they do well.

Coming out of the theatre, I thought I was on
the Boulevard des Italiens at Paj-is. The crowd
was dense in Brook Sti'eet. There were plenty
of common peo])le, but also plenty of ladies
and gentlemen in evening dress. Shops were dis-
playing their wares ; restaurants, lit with gas oi' the
electric light, invited the passer-by to partake of

VOL. I. T

. •'

^ ■'!!!
I'll'

inf"

'■)l

274

AUSTRALIA

[part mi.

lobsters, oysters, fruits, and (l.iintios of every kind.
People were ])assiiiL'" to and from the su))j)er-rooni.
1 seemed to he hack ai/ain in Paris. The illusion
was complete, but it did not last lonnr. All tiiisstir
and life arc concentrated in a very small area. A
few steps more, and you come to darkness and
solitude.

I have already spoken of the irold mines, and
of the disapp(>intments suHered by the innnense
majority of the miners. Only very few of them
have become rich. The ])rinci])al source of the larj^'e
fortunes which have been and are still beinjj: made
in Victoria, lies in the sale and purchase of land.
There are men who make a trade of it, and who
sometimes amass colossal wealth. They buy runs,
and, after farmin<r them and stockinir them with
sheep, sell them aL^ain at a bi<^ profit, out of which
they buy other runs, and sell these a<xain in like
manner. After a certain nund)er of years, when
they consider their work comjdeted, they realise
the dream of their life and return to England.
T'his is the way in which the class of nouveawv
riches is formed. Jiut the genuine squatters, those
who go in not for s])eculation Init for sheep-breed-
ing, are losing their im])ortance, and gradually
descending the social ladder.

I am assured that immigration, which was

ax III*
\iiul.

OOlIl.

usion
is stir
[I. A
^ and

s, and

iiicnse

them

made
■ land,
id wlio
runs,
I with
which
n like
wlicn
rcahse
ighmd.
\iveaiu'
those
[breed -
|dually

h was

CIIAI". II.]

VICTORIA

■/D

so lar<je after tl»e (Hscovorv of <l<»ld, lias almost
iMitirt'lv ceased (hirinL*" the last few years. The
Government, composed of re|)reseiitatives or friends
of the lower classes, wlio are ()j)|)osed to immi«xra-
tion, refuse to urant anv more sul)sidies for that
])nr])ose. Until lately, part of tlie expenses of
the vovajje out was defraved by the colony, but
that assistance is now witldield. 'Tlie common
peojjU',' I am told, 'who are now, thanks to
the electoral law, our masters, are not wantinir in
intelli;ience. Their views arc narrow, but tliey
know wliat they want, and tliey know their
interests, that is to say, the interests of tlieir class,
wluch are not always tliose of the country L'ene-
rally. They finci themselves in possession of an
immense territory. Wlietlier this territory sliall
be more or less cultivated is a nmtter to them of
small importance. Tliey wish to ])ossess it for
themselves alone, and to deal with it to their own
exclusive profit, and what they dread above every-
thimr is a lowerinjj of the waL'cs of manual labour.'
' No com])etition,' therefore, is their cry. They are
williiiii enou<di to share the cake amonLi them-
selves, but not with the new-comers as well.
' Look,' said a cliarminu old gentleman to me, ' at
those men who from nine o'clock in tlu^ morniiiLr
hano" about the drinkintx-bars, and gain their livint;
as street-porters, or by other occupations of that

T 2

f> 4

I I'

I;.

) ¥.

iliii
'III

4
"II

i :!)!
iiiJS

iS'

■Hi'

■ ii

276

AUSTRALIA

[PAHT III.

sort. TIk'^c lire our niastiTs. Every one of them
lias a vote. Tliey lix the time of work at ei^^lit
liours, tliey demand exehisive i'i;jhts, and tliey
liave ])Ut a stop to immijiration. Tliey (h) not
understand that tliis way of ^'oing on is tlie
iinaneial and economical ruin of tlie country. For
tiio time tliey are iiai)|)y, com|)aratively ])ro-
sperous, and content, hut tliey are livinj,' on their
ca))ital.'

People of better station liave been driven out
of nearly all employments. FeeHng themselves
beaten, they submit to their i'ate in silence, with
the resignation of powerlessness, es[)eeially when, as
in all })robability is the case, they liave to renounce
all hope of a return of better days. These new
masters .seem to me somewhat like children who,
having found their way into a dining-room, shut the
doors to eat up by themselves the dinner prepared
for a hundred guests or more. Unable to eat it,
they will give themselves indigestion, and the
remainder of the dinner will be wasted.

At the club where I am staying and elsewhere
I constantly hear the men and the affairs of the colony
discussed. As regards the men, opinions are divided ;
but as regards affairs, there is but one voice : Vic-

rirvr, ii.]

VICTORIA

277

toria, from cvory point of vlow, is tlio l)ost plaro in
the world. Not yomii; iihm» only, hut old nuMi
as well, and tlioso in compiirativcly liiLdi positions,
the ])ionc'crs of Mclhourni', who liavc lived liero
for foi'ty years, arc fond of retailing,' tlioscp!in('L'"yri('s.
This is, as T have'alroady said, 'hlowiiiLr.' 'I'hoy blow
thcMr trunijx.'t well and lustily, and I do not hlanie

did

lom. After all, it is only the eandid expression
of a deep and simple conviction. And then, it is
so ])leasant to see men ])erfectly satisfied. I have
never met with perfectly satisfied people in luirope.

ThouLdi the country round Melbourne is not
])icturesque, there ai"e some ])retty places in the en-
virons. 8t. Kilda and Hi-iLditon-beach, for example,
are not without a certain ])oetry with their little
gardens and houses, perfectly neat, l)ut built more
or less by contractors on the same model, with the
sea-shore and sea-breeze and tlie blue mountains
in the distance, and with the friendly and hospi-
table people whom you lind there.

Black Spur, a ])lace in the forest, is rpioted for
its picturesque beauty. You see there the largest
trees in the world. Formerly the famous Wellinuf-
tonias of California were the sovereigns of the forest ;
they are now dethroned by the gigantic eucalyp-
tus-trees, some of which attain the prodigious height

278

AUSTRALIA

[part hi.

of 420 feet. Close by tliese wooded regions lies a
wine-growing district. I was sorry to be unable to
accept the invitation of a Swiss gentleman, M. Hu-
bert de Castella, whose vineyards are celebrated
and yield a wine which, if it can bear shipment,
will perhaps compete some day with our best
European vintages.

From j\[elhourne to Si/dnei/, May 5 and 6. —
Aftei long hesitations, discussions, and negotiations,
which give an idea of the nature of intercolonial
relations, the Governments of Victoria and New
South Wales agreed at length to connect their rail-
ways at Albury, a frontier town situated on the
Murray. By this means a through route has been
made between Melbourne and Sydney. They have
even established a direct service, and it is now pos-
sible to travel in twenty hours the 580 miles which
separate the two ca])itals. This express train,
which goes thirty miles an hour, has still the charm
of novelty for both towns, and the newspapers give
regularly the names of the passengers.

The country is the same as I have seen in all the
other colonies of this continent. Eucalyptus-trees,
as far as the eye can reach ; long lines of wire-
fencing, stretched horizontally, forming the enclo-
sures of the squatters' stations ; very few towns,

CHAP. II.]

VICTORIA

279

and those for the most part consisting only of some
cottages, whicli, with tlieir verandahs in front, and
one or two conifers at tlie side, are all of tlie same
pattern. Nothing can be more dismally monotonous,
unless it be the forest, here dense, there half cleared,
there completely levelled. The full moon floods witli
silver light the trunks of the trees, either scorched,
or half stripped, or stretching out their leafless
branches like skeletons. The day, in lighting up
the scene, takes away the elegiac poetry of the night.
Goulburn has a pleasant appearance. It is a
genuine town, but the country remains the same.
The eucaly])tus is here as everywhere. At length
the far-stretching outlines of the Blue Mountains
peep above the horizon, then they draw nearer, and
the white masses of Sydney, tinged with pink, unfold
tliemselves full in front. Half an hour more, and
we alight at the huge terminus of the metropolis of
New South Wales.

li !i

IV. 'I

^■:

liii

'III'

'111'

tii

.If'

i m

• ,)i

'280

AUSTRALIA

[taut irr.

CHAPTER III.

NEW SOUTH WALES.

fnom novkmrkr 17 to novkmrkr 20, 188^.
Fhom May G to May '10, 1884.

Historical notice — Appearance of Sydney — Botany Bay — The
University — Excursions to the Blue Mountains and on the
Hawkesbury River — Tlie unemployed men.

The honour of liaving discovered this continent
l)elon«zs to a Portuguese cx[)lorer, Manuel Godenlio,
wlio in IGOl handed on tlie north-west corner of
Austraha. After liim came tlie Dutcli navigators,
tlie most celebrated of whom, Abel Jan Tasinan,
gave the name of his superior, Van Dieinen, then
(lovernor of the Dutch East India Company, to the
island which, thanks to the English, now bears
his own. The mainland, or Xew Holland, became
Australia, or the country of the South. The French,
also, without ever establishing an actual footing,
have had their share in the discovery of these
distant regions. But the great ex])lorer was
Captain Cook. It was in 1770 that, on his voyage

CHAP. III.]

NEW SOUTH WALES

2S1

from Now Zealand, lie landed at Botany Bay,
survej'ed a larire portion of tlie eastern roast, and
formally took possession of tliecountiy in the name
of tlie Kinii of England. Commodore Pliillip, tlie
first Australian Governor, arrived in 1787. Ilis
mission Avas to finind a penal settlement. The'^e
depots of convicts, as is well known, liave been
suppressed; l)Ut tlie system of tiansportation,
tlioufrli abandoned more tlian tliirty years airo, lias
left traces here behind it which neither time
nor tlie larjje inilux of new immiiirants have as
yet been able entirely to eflace. ' It is a sore
which is not yet healed,' said a lady who was born
in the colony to nie. ' Take care liow you toucli
it; never utter the Avord "convict."' This stain,
thouLdi half ellaced by time, and invisible to tiie
inex])erienced eye of a strant^er, still alllicts the
colony. Men are known who have convict's
blood in their veins, and the sons have to expiate
the crimes of their fathers.

Two peculiarities in the history of Xew South
Wales deserve n(jtice. American colonisation
sprang mainly from ])rivate adventure. The foun-
dation of colonies in Australia was not the result
of private enterprise, but of the policy of the
English Ministry. Its origin, like it'^ development
Tintil the creation of a r:;: ,^ )nsible government in
185G, had a purely official character.

•

'(1 V

d:..|il

! •

;'!1«

,:!^

l.'tll

,'h

282

AUSTRALIA

[part lir.

Another peculiarity is that Xew Zealand, Van
Diemen's Land (now Tasmania), Victoria, and
Queensland were originally dependencies of New
South Wales.

I
I
I

Sydney. From Noveniher 11 to November 29,
1883. — Sydney Harbour, say tlie Sydneyites, and
also visitors who are unprejudiced, is of incom-
parable beauty. Tliis seems to me true in tlie
sense that it has notliing in common with any
of the other places whicli are reputed to be the
most picturesrpie in the world. More beautiful
than picturesque, I miglit compare it to the face
of a woman whose features would leave you
unmoved were it not for the indescribable charm
which reflects upon them the soft feelings of the
soul.

Let me describe the details of the scene. What
you see is a vast surface of water, opening out east-
Avard near the Heads to the ocean, and running
far into the land in bays and coves which appear
innumerable. At the end of the harbour flows in the
Paramatta, bluish-green like the trees tliat line its
banks. On the southern shore, Avhich is broken and
indented, now retreating, now jutting out in little
promontories, stand tlie different quarters of the
town. In front of you, looking lorth, are the

CHAP. III.]

NEW SOUTH WALES

houses and gardens of a kind of suburb called
North Shore. Along each side of the harbour runs
a chain of low hills, sloping up and down in end-
less succession; for, whichever way you turn,
the eye is arrested by details which conceal, while
leaving you to guess where they are, other objects
like those in view. It is a picture of which
certain parts are lost in the half lighti'. You Uri-
bute this to the limited horizon of the eye, for tlie
picture itself has no limits. The lirst impression
Sydney creates is that of infinity, and it is con-
stantly revived. This is the charm of the ocean
and the firmament ; they picture to us something
we can define but cannot understand. To give an
idea of the size of this harbour, they tell you that
a boat, leaving the entrance by tiie Heads and
following all tlie little windings, would have to
traverse more than 400 miles before returning to
its starting-point.

The slight elevation of the hills serves to make
the vast extent of the harbour more conspicuous.
The wonderful harnu:)ny of proportion in sea and
land forms, in my opinion, the great attraction of
the picture. I will s|)eak of the colouring by-and-by.
If the artist had added some lofty mountains of
fantastic shape, they would have arrested tlie
eye of the spectator, have flattened the hills,
which are already so low. and have reduced, by

rii'

ill'

•'111 ^

''51'

!ifi;i

■I

284

AUSTRALIA

[part hi.

llic contrast with tlioinsolves, the diniensioiis of
tlie slieet of water wlii(''\ witli tlie sky, forms
tlie principal element in tliis master-])iece of
nature.

The sliores of tlie ]iarl)our, where not tinfjed
with <ivGy and litdit pink by tlie Jionses of the town,
are covered witli foliaire — in otlier words, witli tlie
eucalj'ptns, of a blackish-blue or a jTreenish-black
colour. In the frardens are some Norfolk Island
pines and some weeping willows from the island
of St. Helena, which impart a slight variety to these
sombre and uniform tints ; but the greenish-black
predominates, and the impression produced l)y this
verdure is gloomy, monotonous, and, under a grey
sky, funereal. As the distant sea-line, visible only
from the liigh points of the town, is sho)-tened by
tlie Heads, the harl)our looks like a lake, and
you are quite astonished to see men-of war, mail-
steamers, and othei* vessels of laro-e draught, lyinix
at anchor inside it.

To sum up, Sydney Harbour offers to the eye
sim]ily a basin of water enclosed, as it were, in a
carved frame ; and yet such is the effect produced,
that it is held to bear comjiarison with Eio Janeiro,
Naples, and Constantinople. I admit a faint re-
semblance to the low and wooded hills of the
Bosphorus, but in other respects I repudiate the
comparison. I quote these cases as a proof of the

^ i

)f the

CHAP. III.]

NEW SOUTH WALES

marvellous efTect produced by uieaus so siuij)k'.
It is the sky, witli its variatious of liu'ht, that works
tliis miracle. Here uiy j)eu stoi)s, I must not
attempt the inij)ossil)le. I have seeu tlie harbour
lookiu<jf like a half-iinished water-colour sketch ;
sea aud sky blent togetlier, «irey on jirey, and bhick
on black, a mere rude outline ; then, a few momen-
tary rays of pale sunlight, whicli suddenly intensify
the darkness of the clouds ; and then again, accord-
ing to the state of the atmosphere, the farthest ]iarts
of the bays and creeks standing out or receding,
with the varying expression of a man who in turn
lauglis, weeps, is angry, or pacified. At otlier
times, when tlie weather is perfect, which is rare
at this autumn season, vou would, but for the
black shadows, fancy yourself transported to tlie
shores of the Mediterranean, the briglit clear blue
of which is II joding sea and sky. I walk along tlie
harbour on a delightful path at the foot of the hill
occupied by the Botanical Gardens. On my left
stands the Government House, like a silhouette of
deep but transparent black ; beyond it, is another
tongue of land of a shadowy black ; and in front
of me, the outline of North Shore, likewise black,
but of an opaque tinge. Between these hills and the
spot where I am standing, the sun's rays, which
strike vertically but cannot ])ierce the clouds of
smoke puffed out by steamers large and small, pro-

.Ml r

: ! Y

'il j!

II 1.

'III

■.I ^

III!
I'l'i

If «

iil

286

AUSTRALIA

[part III.

(luce a fanciful effect. But all the rest is gold and
lapis lazuli.

Sydney bears tlie stamp of what she is — a
daughter of Old England and the metro])olis of
Australia. The streets, which are not inordinately
wide nor mathematicallv straiirht, follow the con-
figuration of the ground. It is evident that their
oi'igin dates from a time when America, still an
English colony, did not give the fashion to the An-
tipodes. Sydney has nothing American about her,
and in that is unlike Mell)ourne, or Brisbane, or the
towns of New Zealand.

Government House, a masterpiece of the Eliza-
bethan style, stands in the midst of a splendid
])ark, with a view over the harbour. It has been
built, I think, about thirty years. The Houses of
rarliament and Treasury buildings, a number of
churches, a magnificent Roman Catholic cathedral
now in course of construction in the centre of the
U])per town, near some fine public gardens ; at the
west end the University, which, standing as it
does on high ground, attracts the eye from afar
by its imposing mass ; and a number of handsome
private houses justify the enthusiasm of the inhabi-
tants. The parallel streets, all of great length,
which form the headquarters of commerce and
industry, are gay with numbers of richly furnished

jin

CITAP. 111.]

NEW SOUTH WALFiS

1S7

.gth,
and
islied

sliop?, and in tlie afternnnn, botwoon four and five
o'clork, crowds of ',)rctty, wcll-drcsscd women,
under pretence of makiuL' purchases, come liere to
display tlieir attire.

In the upper j^art of tlie town a series of
fashionable, and onserpiently quiet, streets, were
it not for the steam tramways Avhi(;Ii infest them,
lead alon<^ i)ublic L^ardens towards the westt^n
quarters of ISyduey. There, turninji to the left,
you encounter a succession of headlands where
stand the residences of the wealthy ])eople of the
colony. The scene is indeed beautiful, an English
landscape with semi-tropical and Australian vegeta-
tion, and with occasional glimpses of the harbour,
which disappears and then, when least expected,
comes suddenly into view. You can never for-
get Pott's Point and Darling Point ; Double Bay
and Rose Bay, with their pretty villas and bewitch-
ing gardens ; nor the Heads and the lighthouse,
with the electric liglit, recently built at a cost of
30,000/., which throws out a light almost unbear-
able to the eye at a distance of four or five miles,
and being, as it is, tlie finest lighthouse in the
world, is at once tlie pride and joy of the
people of Sydney. I was enabled to examine its
machinery, the simi)licity and smallness of which
contrast so stronii'ly with the numnitiide of its illu-
miuating power.

, I

.'II
ill'

1 ;

.hi'i

I'I'I

I' '■ 1^

'ft

•

288

ALWIKALIA

[I'AKT III.

I am sliaiiu;^' with Lord and Lady R().sL'])cry
tlie lios[)itality of tlio Governor and Lady An^fustus
J.oi'tns, who have kindly ^iven us an opportunity
of niakin;^' tliu actpiaintance of the leading men,
ollicial and .so(;ial, of the colony. ^My brief but
fre(|uent intercourse witli tlie Ciiief Justice, Sir
James Martin ; the Prime Minister, Mr. Stuart ; the
Attorney-General, Mr. Dalley ; the ])uisnejudL!e, Sir
Geor<ie Lmes, and his charming,' wife ; Mr. Mitchell,
Sir I'atrick JenniuLiS, and many other notabilities,
will always recall agreeable associations to my
mind.

To-day a grand garden-])arty at Government
House. It was like one of those so much in vt)gue
in the fashionable world of London, and generally,
it nuist be confessed, so dull. But here, at the
Antipodes, it is difl'erent. The men, indeed, look
grave, and some of them preoccupied. It is easy
enough to leave one's oflice or warehouse, but not
so easy to leave behind the worries, the hopes, and
the cares of business. The young ladies, however,
married and single, are in high spirits. All of
them are remarkable for the uiodest elegance of
their dresses, many of them for their beauty, and
those born in the colony for that mixture of vivacity
and languor which is the peculiar charm of the
Creoles of the Antilles.

•

Sir

'rally,
the
look
easy
it iu»t
and
ever,
Lll of
ce of
, and
acity
)f the

CHAP, in.]

NEW SOUTH WALES

2S9

Tlioiigli tlie fiery orb of a pitiless sun is draw-
ing near the liorizon of the ocean, the lieiit is still
that of a summer's day at Xa})les. A week a;^'o,
you would have thought yourself in England in the
early part of April. The natives have not praises
enougli to lavish on their climate. But European
residents lind it debilitating and instating to the
nerves, and declare that it gradually saps vitality.
The truth lies, perhaps, between these two extreme
assertions.

An excursion to Botany Bay. I notice witli
surprise that the woods a)id solitude begin the mo-
ment we have left Sydney. The aspect of the bay
and of its shores corresponds well to the name,
which has become a synonym for a resort of crimi-
nals, if a vast silent sheet of water ; if low i-ocks
eitlier bare or clothed with miserable gum-trees
which surround it on three sides ; if a shore
deserted and unoccupied, save by a small detacli-
ment of artillery and a signal station — if, in a woi'd,
these elements of a landscape, taken together, are
calculated to produce a vague impression of crimes
and punishments. Nothing can be more dismal.
The very sky, with its dull leaden colour, as I saw
it, adds to the dreariness of this spot. On the stony
beach, the French Government, in the time of the
Restoration, caused a monument to be erected to

VOL. I.

I' I

Hi!'

'Hi '

■4
111

iiji;

,■ I-

290

AUSTKAI.IA

[I'AHT III.

I .', '

tlio momory of La Pc'toiiso. An inscription re-
cords tluit tlie Inst nows received from this intrepid
circnninavij^ator of the <.dobe was sent by liini from
his ancliora^'-e in tliis l)ay in 1788. A few step.s
farther stands a tomb, still in a L'ood state of pre-
servation, which contains the remains of a monk,
the chiiplain of the expedition, who died here during
La r(''rouse'H stay.

We |)ass by the three or fonr tents of the
artilleiymen, some of whom, foriictful of the snakes
which abound here, are lyiuL*" sti'ctched ujxm the
dried-up grass, and apparently in the enjoyment
of deep slumber. So true is it that a man easily
grows familiar with an ever-]iresent danger. The
snakes in this ])art of the Australian continent con-
stitute, I am told, a real plague. When riding
in the forests, in times of great heat, especially
at midday, one is constantly coming aeross them
on the paths. All that need be done is to give them
time to slip away, for they shun man. The veno-
mous death or deaf adder is too torpid to wake up
at the sound of the passing footste]), and is all tiie
more dangerous for that reason. Its bite is invari-
ably fatal. At night-time these reptiles frequent
the ilagstones of the railway stations, and it is well
to be cautious in going tliere. Nevertheless, such
casualties are extremely rare.

llere and there the wood dips down to the

CHAP. III.]

NEW SOUTH WALES

291

marginof tlio.sea,or ratlior lagoon, jin(l,1)on(lini: over
the watery mirror, .scoins to glance with self-eoni-
placency at the twisted, short, and slender branches
of the trees, scantily clothed with drooping leaves,
and yielding a passage to the sun's rays. Fai'ther
on, we come ac^ross a family of civilised aborigines,
if indeed a pair of trousers and a pi[)e can entitle
them to this adjective.

The University dates from I80I. Mr. Dalley,
the Attorney-General, is kind enough to taki;
me there, and the Kector does the honours of
the ])lace. He is the celebrated Grei'k scholai'. Dr.
Carolus ]iadham, a foi-mer pupil of Pestalozzi, and
has studied in England, at Strasburg, and at
Rome. In a])pearance he is the genuine tyi)e of a
philosoi)her of the sixteenth century. Everything
about him .«eemed to me exceptional : a learneil
philologist at the Antipodes, who is able, by the
weight of his name and the charm of his manner,
to attract youths around him, and impart to them
the taste and the cultivation of science ! The
doctor speaks several languages — German, IVencli
and Italian — and all with a })erfectly pure accent.^
The edifice itself, the hall, and tlie various rooms
and collections, convey the impressi(jn of a richly

' I p^'ieve to say, that a short time after my viait death remo\ cJ
this learueil man.

V 2

ill!

■Ilf ''

-Ml

,<f

II''!

v
1

' [Jiff "

292

AUSTRALIA

[part hi.

endowed and admirably managed institution.
Four denominational colleges are affiliated with
the University. In the schools, so called, the State
subsidises secular education, and tolerates, but
does not subsidise, rehgious instruction. If I
rightly understood the explanations given me on
this subject, tlie present system is a kind of com-
j)romise between the old one and that pursued in
the undenominational schools, where religious in-
struction is absolutely forbidden. This latter system,
if I am not mistaken, is generally adopted in New
Zealand and the other colonies. The mass of the
people — I am speaking now of the Protestants —
although they go to church on Sundays, and are
for the most part believers in Christianity, demand
the abolition of all religious instruction from the
schools. Their object is to avoid in their families
or })arishes religious animosities and irritating
discussions or questions of dogma ! The Koman
Catholic clergy, with the bishops at their head,
protest against a system which is based on the
divorce of faith and science.

To-night there was a grand ball at Mr. Mitchell's
at Darling Tnint. The apartments would do
honour to the West End or lielgravia. The ball-
room, which was crowded, seemed to me particu-

CHAP. III.]

NEW SOUTH WALES

293

larly tasteful. The uniforms of tlie naval offifers
stationed hero showed off witli advantacfo ajiainst
the sombre black of the civilians' cvenino- dress.
Tlie whole was done in grand style. In this demo-
cratic world, Avhere Jaciv is as good as his master,
some courage is required to give entertainments.
If only one could do without servants ! ]iut hinc
illw lacrinicv. At a recent ball, just as the guests
were going in to supper, there Avas a strike among
the men-servants. Happily the men hired for the
evening, and some sailors from the men-of-war, were
able to supply the gap.

A most delightful mornimr in tlie countrv.
The railway takes us to Richmond, wlience we
paid a visit to a stud. Woods, woods, everlasting
Avoods. Enclosures, pasturages, and sheep ; line
orange-trees, and then bush again, and eucaly})tus-
trees of various kinds. On the horizon in front of
us are the Blue Mountahis, and the nearer we aj)-
proacli them the bluer they become. And, by way
of crowning the day, a kind of biblical repast at the
house of the stud-owner, a fuie specimen of tlie
patriarchs of the pasturages of Jiersheba.

■v-i

t ■'

1 r

:.' ■ fii

294

AUSTRALIA

[part III.

y ^ >

The Colonial Department contains tlie offices of
the most important ministry of the colony. S^^ruc-
turally, it is a model of a Government building on
a large scale — no luxury, nothing superfluous, but
what is necessary in perfection. Near it there is
a public library, open from ten o'clock in the
morning till ten o'clock at niglit. What would our
librarians of Europe say to these night hours?
They would strike at once. All the same, it is a
great advantage to men, who are busily engaged
during the day, to be able to devote their evening
to reading in a well-ventilated, well-warmed, and
well-lit room, and all without a penny to pay.

There is also a museum and a public gallery.
The pictures, most of which are water-colour paint-
ings, come from England. Sydney is in all these
respects a great centre. And to think tluit this
colony is not a hundred years old, that scarcely
forty years have elapsed since it was freed from
the leprous taint of a convict settlement, and that
the total of its white population scarcely exceeds
800,000 souls !

The Premier, Mr. Stuart, and the Attorney-
General, Mr. Dalley, take us to see the Blue
Mountains. The Governor and his guests, the
leading men in politics and society, occupy several

but

CHAP. III.]

NEW SOUTH WALES

295

carriages in a special train wliich bears us rapidly
to our destination. Tl'3 sylvan scenery, notwitli-
standing its monotony, is not wanting in pictu-
resqueness.

The deeper the railway plunges into the re-
cesses of tlie mountains and the liigher it climbs
their slopes, the farther does the burnt and dusty
plain behind us spread out above tlie horizon like
a huge yellow curtain. But in front, and on eacli
side, and above us, there is notliing but forest,
that is to say, the everlasting gum-tree witli its
crooked branches, its grey or white trunk topped
with a plume, and its greyish-green foliage, shaded
at tliis season with the yellow and red tints witli
which the s})ring-tinie colours the budding leaves,
Witli us in Europe these are the autumn colours
of the dead leaf, but here everything is unlike v» iiat
is seen in other parts of the world. In these forests
there is no game at all, except small bears and
kangaroos. The latter are killed by blows with
rattans. In some battues from three to live thou-
sand are destroyed in a single day.

Another peculiarity of these forests, which I
have already described, is the absence of shade,
coupled with the absence of water. As for the
conlijzuration of the <iround, it is a series of Hat-
topped hills, which jut out into the })lain and
there end suddenl}^ in the form of abrupt spurs.

.,1;

:■■ II
I'll

ill!

..Ml

••11:

I I*

iiiii

:MI

I •'{'

fiir
1-

:ni:j

I "I! I, ft

■\4:

3; 'ii

m ' i

296

AUSTRALIA

Fr.VRT III.

Tlie railway crosses tlic principal chain by means
of two 7Afiza^^, considered to be one of tlie Avonders
of tlie colony, and consequently of the world ; and,
in truth, they do credit to the enufineer wlio lias
had the darinir to design them, and the skill to
construct them so well.

Katoomba is the name of a station near which,
on the top of a liill, an excellent hotel has just
been built. The view is superb and the air exhila-
ratiniij ; but it is above all tlie colourinir, runninu
tlirougli tlie whole scale of blues — cobalt, ultra-
marine, sapphire, and opal — it is this variety of
shades of a simple colour which o-ives to the
])anorama a character unique of its kind.

l-i

This morning we made an excursion on tlie banks
of the llawkesbury. We are a large party, and, as
before, the guests of Mr. Stuart and Mr. Dalley.
A boat takes us to the other side of the gulf.
While approaching Manly Bay a score of large
vessels, under full sail, and some steamers are seen
with their dark outlines against a sky of pearl,
Avhich melts away into the horizon of the Pacific.

Some broken ground, half wooded, half covered
with fern, separates the bay from the sea. Eoads
there are none, but small ponies, harnessed to
liuggies, take us quickly across the sand.

criAP. III.]

NEW SOUTH WALES

297

A lion roucliant with tlic face of a man guards
tlie nioutli of tlie river up wliicli we are to go.
This lion is a rock, and this rock is an islet.
Notlrlng can be more fantastic.

A pretty l)oat, daintily appointed, and a little
tuix are waitinir for us liere. Hotli hanks look
like a maze of wooded hills. The forest comes
down to the edire of the water, which reilects tlie
whitish trunks, some smootli and upriglit as marble
columns, and others convulsively twisted — skeletons
of giants still standing, although long since stricken
with death. The foliage is sparse, and the sun
pierces through it ; there is, therefore, little shade,
and ever tlie same Australian monotony, though
broken liere by vistas which vary at every
turn of the river, by the ripples of the water,
and by the gradations of hght, which change
with the distances. On the banks there is not a
trace of dwellings. We left the most populous
town of this continent this morning at sunrise, and
now, at noon, we are in the depth of solitude.

Higher up, the banks are lower and show
sicfns of life. First, some huts of fishermen and
woodcutters are seen ; then, in numbers increas-
ing as we go up, enclosures and farmers' liouses.
The eucalyptus is no longer supreme. Here and
there the forest has been cleared. Near some
houses, and on the banks of the river, some weep-

,1! II . •

1 1 ' »< ■

1 :

. 1

i;i;j

1 1 '
1

Ill ■!!

Ill '■
■n\\
."11

i'.lilH

t "I"
I ill'

J !

^ '^%r^

I 5

i I

|!f

2()8

AUSTRALIA

[part III.

ing Avillows liave ])een planted which are said to have
once shaded tlie torn!) of Napoleon.- The Ilawkes-
bwry creeps lazily between this double hedge of
rounded clumps wliich contrast with the native
vegetation. Their drooping branches dip, and are
reilected, in the sleeping waters of the river. At
this hour tlie sun, now setting among clouds,
in which the lightning is playing, floods their
foliafje with majxic li<du. A few moments more
and the twilight spreads its ti-ansparent veil over
the scene. Deep silence reigns in the air, on
the water, in the woods. We })ass close by a
camp of aborigines grouped round some lires
which they have lit before tlieir tents. After this
evening of tender sadness come suddenly flashes of
lightning, thunder, and a storm of unusual violence.
Then a niglit warm, calm, and serene. At mid-
night we are back at Sydney, after an excursion
of 147 miles.

Sydney. Second Visit: May G to May 17,
1884. — I am again enjoying here the glorious wea-
ther that I left at Melbourne, only the sun is more

^ There was a time when Napoleon's name was very popular in
the colonies. The introduction of the weeping willows which are seen
in New South Wales dates from that period. They were brought
thither on board vessels from Europe, which always touched at
St. Helena.

CHAP. III.]

NEW SOUTH WALES

299

burning and tlie air less elastic. For this reason
during the great heats the people of Sydney —
those wlio are able to leave — go in quest of sonie-
wluit cooler weather to Melbourne, or, better still,
to Tasmania.

During my second stay in the ca])ital of Xew
South Wales I lodged at the Australian Club. At
luncheon time you see tliere the leading niercliants,
officials, and politicians ; in fact, .'^erious men, or
tliosewlio pass for sucli. Tha Jen ne.^se don'e prefer
the Union Club, which is better adapted to the wants
of modern times. But in the one as in the other,
the arrangements and the cuisine leave r.otliing to
be desired. In tlie reading-room are found all tlie
Australian papers and ediaons of the leading Eng-
lish journals, abridged for colonial use ; but, so far
as I could ascertain, in all these countries little inter-
est is taken in Euro})ean men and matters. Tliei-e
is also a German club, appointed like those in the
fatherland.

Ml II

'"•11'

I !■■•.

(IK

;5!

I :

, i

ll ''

II .
ill 'i|

I
I

I "II

: H'^

y. ,11 I 'I

« !'•'•

Ill'

if;;i '

..i-ir-

For some time back some thousands of men
have been seen nearly every day marching slowly
and in silence through the most frequented quarter
of the town. On reaching the entrance of one of
the large public gardens, they stoj) near the statue
of the Prince of Wales. There, from a platform,

iiA

HiHi

(

300

AUSTRALIA

[part rir.

some tril)unc.s of tlie people deliver speeches.
These proeessionists ai'C workmen out of employ,
-who think by this means to excite the public and
intimidate tlie Government. The trades-imions,
which play a great i)art in the colonies, provide the
iinem])loyed men with the means of living. I have
more than once stop])ed in my morning walk to
listen to these street orators. Self-styled gentlemen
alternate with the workmen, and the orators in
jackets and caps seemed to me less violent in
their language, and more convinced of what they
said, than the gentlemen in town attire and tall
hats. The latter simply repeated the stale phrases
of professional demagogues. It was a violent and
dishonest incitement of the poor against the rich.
The workmen-orators related their difficulties and
sufferings, and declared their wish, and at the same
time their inability, to find work. They finished
nearly always with a protest against immigration.
All they asked for Avas to work, but on condition
that the State should protect them against com-
petition. The men in black clothes and tall hats
demanded simply the spoliation of the rich.

While the platform was thus occupied, the
workmen in the procession, evidently indisposed to
listen to lucubrations which they knew by heart,
dispersed in the garden, smoked their pipes in
silence, seemed bored and sullen, but in no way

the

kl to
?art,
IS in
iway

CHAP. III.]

NEW SOUTH WALES

;>oi

disposed to acts of violence. TliC audience was coni-
])0sed of passers-by. I saw in this chance-collected
crowd several well-dressed ])ersons ; they were pro-
bably small tradesmen and small manufacturers,
and they listened to the speeches with unbroken
attention. Some cabdrivers, des})ite tlie timid pro-
tests of their faies, stopped on the way. The rest
of the audience consisted of common i)eople. The
venom, if this name may be given to the brutal
calumnies hurled against the propertied classes,
was not distilled drop by drop, but poured out in
floods, and evidently not without producing an
effect on some of ihe audience.

If the Ministry are inactive, the reason is that
they have to reckon with the advanced party.
Nevertheless, these scenes, which excite the ])ublic
more and more, are beginning to alarm them, and
I am told that park-meetings at least, if not pro-
cessions, will be forbidden, on tlie pretext that the
garden and the statue of the Prince of Wales mifdit
suffer injury in consequence ! The authorities will
never venture to give the real reason. Nobody
will be deceived ; tlie pill will be gilded in open
deference to the good pleasure of King Mob.

It is plain ihat all is not rose-coloured in these
communities so full of youth, of life, of hopes, and
of reckless aspirations. I ought, in truth, to add
that at the clubs, where I was kindly received.

i;:

III '

;'i;iit'

111

.1'

i02

AUSTRALIA

[PABT iir.

and oven in ofTicial sj)lieros, T liave met few
])crs()ns wlu), witliout exa^jr^'eratin^^ tlie evil, liave
c'oneealed from me tlieir uneasiness. This is
briefly wliat lliey say in ])rivate. Processions,
meetin^^s, liaranj/ues at the street-corners still f>(j
on, and are intended to intimidate the Government
and terrorise the ])ublic. Tliey wish, in the first
place, to have immi^jration into New South Wales
stopped, as in fact it has been in Victoria. The
men in power do not, and perhaps do not wish to
realise the dansjfcrs of the situation, and, in order
to stave ofl' didiculties of the moment, frequently
make danuei'ous concessions to the demairoixues.
Tlie trades-unicms are a power, and take tlieir
orders from Europe and America. The work-
insr-inen, made more and more exacting by the
■waverinjr conduct of the Government, do not stop
there. They demand also, following the example
of their brethren in New Zealand, the ' four
eio'hts ' — eijiiht hours for work, eifjlit hours for
eating and amusement, eight hours for sleep, and
eight shilhngs wages. Those who come from
England are, and show themselves to be, delighted
at lirst with their lot. They compare their new
life with that in the old country, and appreciate
very highly the relative prosperity which they find
in Australasia. Here, as in New Zealand, pro-
visions are very cheap, and the cost of clothing

0-.)

nple
bur
for
and
rom
tod
new

ciate
find
pro-

CHAP. in.]

NEW SOUTH WALKS

303

is not more tlian five per cent, liinrlior tlian in l']n^-
land. Moreover, there is jio winter, and eonse-
qnently no ex])ense for warm clothes or fuel, lint
the aj.ntators are not lon«j in <rettinLr hold of these
contented souls, and in a few months they have
chanired them into malcontents.

All these comj)laints of my friends end with
this refrain, ' I see many rocks in our way.'
Nevertheless, with all their fears for the present,
there are no misirivinu's as to the brilliant destinies
of the colony, and their siuhs usually end with a
small blast of the Australian trumpet. It is just as
if they were to say to you, ' Don't alarn yourself
about this country. Tt is the first (;ountry in the
world We shall get out of the mess.'

•r 1

I'l »'

I. ,11
,i .11

1,1
I'

! }

iifl

III'

'ill

II IT

IH'I
|:M(|

.til I ,'. I

Ul d

:.i

I I

304

AUSTKALIA

[.TAKT Iir.

CIIAPTErt IV.

QUEEXSLAND.
FuoM NovEMHEU 27 TO Decembkr 1*3, 1888.

Brisbane— Darling Downs — Rockhanipton — Townsville — Tlmrsday

Island — rolitical survey.

QuEKNSLAND orijiinally formed part of New Soiitli
Wales, was sc})arated from it in 1859, got rid of
its convicts, and attracted, by tlie discovery of gold
mines in various parts of its territory, a crowd of
immigrants ; but was, is, and will probably remain,
an essentially pastoral country.

A sn. ill steamer which keej)s up the communi-
cation between Sydney and Brisbane conveys us,
Lord Rosebery and myself, accompanied by Sir
Patrick Jennings, who kindly acts as our guide on
this journey.

We steam along the coast, a series of headlands
with picturesque outlines and plains between
them, and pass by Macquarie, formerly one of the

CHAT. IV.]

QUKICNSLAND

305

ands
keen
the

lar<^c.st ponal settlements, and so on from cajH? to
eapc. All these rocks still hear i\\v names that
Cook <ii\\v them.

The second day our vessel, after havini/donhled
Cape Moreton and stuck fast, as often hai)|)eiis, on
the har of Brisl>ane, enters the river of the same
name and jiscends it without any further accident.
The mango trees, intermixed with the eucalyptus,
which nevertheless predominate, remind us that
we are drawing near the ti-opics.

On arriving, towards evening, oil' Hrisl)ane, after
a voyage of forty-eight hours, we have the lively
pleasure of leaving our vessel and acce])ting the
hospitality of Sir Anthony Musgrave, the new
Governor of the youngest, but not the least im-
portant, of the Australian colonies.

Dui'ing my stay in this town, notwithstariding
the torrents of rain that swe])t from time to time
over the thirsty land, the sky seemed to me like
lead and the atmosphere like a furnace. But the
Brisbaners will not admit that it is even hot in
their country, except now and then.

Brisbane impresses me as a young man who
knows what he is and will one day be worth, and
who sees no reason for making any mystery about it.

The new Parliament Buildimis are vei-y fine.
The architect seems to have admirabl}' solved the
problem how to shelter the members from the

VOL. I. X

f I

I'-

:!l

1
11'

III

'II

III

i;|t

!!<•<( I

,,,nii«

|;IH

"■; 1.

.iliJCt

{

I' I

n t

3o5

AUSTRALIA

[part III.

severity of tlie climate, which people are loth to
admit in theory, but against wliicli, in practice,
they endeavour to protect tliemselves.

Tlie museum does honour to its curator and
founder , it contains some very curious objects
relating to the aborigines.^ I admired there also
some stufl's woven by the Maoris of Xew Zealand
with the feathers of birds belonLrinj]f to races now
extinct.

The towns of Australia, excepting Sydney, are
all alike. Every wli ere are the same straight broad
streets, intersecting each other at right angles and
flanked with low buildings all cast in tlie same
mould. Here, with the exception of two or three
large arteries, all tlie houses are raised a few feet
above the ground. It is an attempt to escape from
the white ant, that fearful scourge of the torrid zones.

At the entrance of tlie town, upon the quays, a
large and handsome building strikes tlie eye. It is
a convent of Sisters of Charity. A few steps fartlier
rises the still unfinislied cathedral. Here, as in all
the colonies, the Roman Catholic element is con-
spicuous, and perfect harmony prevails everywhere
between tlie diflerent religious communities.

The ground occupied by Government House
droo])s towards the river. In the gardens which

' In Australia, the word ' aborij^ines ' clenotes the savages of the
country. Whites born in the colony are called natives.

''. t

CHAT. IV.]

QUEENSLAND

307

surround tliis pretty residence, built wliolly of
wood, stand some fine exotic trees. Tlie tui-f
was dried up by tlie sun, but the lieavy showers
of last night, the first that have fallen for seven
months, have freshened it wonderfully. I cannot
sav as much for the air, which has become
hotter [ind more close after the rain. The house
itself, with its rooms o})en day and night, being
closed only with Venetians, which admit the air
into the ai)artments without opening them to view,
reminds me of Singa]:)ore, Ceylon, Pernambuco, and
other equatorial towns. The ac*^ivity, animation,
and ])rosperity of its i)dulbitant:^ have stamped
on the capital of Queensland the character of
all the large Australian towns. The hills in the
environs are dotted with cottages and gardens.
All are alike — walls washed with grey, leaden-
coloured roofs of iron, little gardens beside, before,
and behind the houses, which are nearly always
flanked with one or two Norfolk Island pines or
some Australian acacias, if not with weeping
willows. The fierce drought of tlie last seven
months has spread grey and yellow tints every-
where, but the landscape, although so monotonous,
is not devoid of certain charms.

l,;|t

' >,

•r'

!■

.j| 1

1 1 1

; 1 1 ■ ;

I'M h

I 111
II I 111 !'•

Darlwrf Downs, December 1 to 3. — The Darling
Downs, the most fertile part of the colony, ait;

i 2

308

AUSTRALIA

[part iir.

situated on tlie western slope of tlie cliain called
Coast-ranize, wliicli skirts tlie eastern coast of the
continent. The great squatters of the Darlinfj
Downs form the aristocracy of Queensland. The
pasturaixes where they breed their sheep and cattle,
especially their sheep, cover an area of about
seventy-five square miles. Beyond them, towards
the west and north, begins an unknown land. It is
being opened up, it is true, more and more, and a
certain number of hardy colonists, bracing dangers
and privations, have settled some huntiious of miles
inland. ]3ut it is none the less still a world of
mystery.

A broken plain separates the sea from the
Coast-range, whose crests are but the edges of
a high plateau sloping gently towards the west
and south-west. The springs on the eastern de-
clivities of the chain pour their scanty waters into
the Pacific, while the streams rising from the
plateau flow towards the south-west, for^w the
Darling and other rivers, cross the continer.. 'id,
joining with the Murray, fall, not far from Adelaw'v',
into the Indian Ocean.

We are now on our way to this interesting
district. The bush begins where the town ends.
These forests are, for the most part, what are
called open forests, that is to say, partially cleared.
All tills country is scarcely anything else. Here

CHAP. IV.]

QUEENSLAND

;o9

uls.
are
'ed.
Lere

and tliere are some small farms and some grou])s
of houses called towns, the ^vllole merjjfed in tlie
bush, which is a little more varied in foliage and
a little less blue than that of Xew Soutli Wales.

The ground rises gradually, and the narrow-
gauge railroad ])lunges deeper and dee])er into the
forest, till it reaches the foot of the lofty wall, some
two thousand feet in heiglit, up wliich it luis to
climb. This difficult and dangerous task tlie
engineers have not hesitated to accomjdish by
means of very small curves. During; the ascent
you enjoy one of those views peculiar to Australia —
severe, imposhig, changing with the bends of the
mountain, and yet always the same. Mountain-
chains Avith flat summits, clothed with woods of
eucalyptus-trees, succeed each other and stretch
away southward, bright blue, dark blue, grey l)luc ;
while below you are deep gorges, from which rise
the tufted plumes of the everlasting gum-tree.

The train, after having chmbed the plateau and
skirted the town of Toowoomba, the capital of
Darling Downs, stops at Oakly station, 124 miles
from Brisbane.

Some buggies take us rapidly across a ])lain
covered witli pasturages to the station of ^^ir
Patrick Jenninirs.

It is the sheep-shearing season, and we are
taken straight to the sheds where this important

. 1

H I'
II

''li'ii ^

•M 1

; II •■
!ll I

'ill"

„ litVi

|I1H
'•111

|:.|:M

.■iiiiri

' ii

1 1

PPWOMVIMI

310

AUSTRALIA

[part hi.

I i'i

operation is perfoi'ined. I will pass over the animals
wlio are being sti'ippecl of their fleeces, for I know
notliing about this matter, but I am told that they
are merinos of the best sort. What interests me
more than the sheep are the men I see at work.
There is a series of processes to go through, and
all is done with systematic order. The shearers,
who are young men — some of them rather delicate
in appearance, who have been born in the colo-
nies, others broad-chested, square-sliouldered, and
sti'ong-armed, who are Europeans — work with a
wonderful ra])idity, which is explained by the
terms of their engagement. They are paid by the
piece, that is to say, at a rate of so much for every
twenty sheep. As a rule, it takes five minutes to
strip each sheep of its fleece, which, passing then to
other hands, is thrown so as to fall flat upon a table,
a feat that entails a certain knack acquired by
])ractice. The poor animals, driven out of the
wool-shed, rush off bewildered at the loss of their
wool, and as if ashamed to show their nakedness,
'i'he lleeces are then sorted, folded up, and carried
to their proper bins, wdiere they have to remain
froni eijjjht to twelve hours, to <zet rid of their ani-
null heat. After that, they are pressed together
with other skins, and made up into bales, each of
which is wrapped in a piece of canvas, stitched and
marked on the spot. Two of these bales, fastened

CHAP. IV.]

QUEENSLAND

,11

tOLrether witli iron bands, form the article as it is
exported to London.

The sliearers can earn from fifteen to eighteen
sliillings a day. The men occupied in tlie other
processes get ten. In addition to tliis, tliey are
fed. Their drink consists of tea, made very
weak and v.dthout sugar. During all this period,
which lasts from six to cijjfht weeks, the men
strictly abstain from all alcoholic drinks ; but on
leaving the station, most of tl\em take good care
to make up for lost time. It is then that hard
drinkimx iioes on.

One of tlie workmen, a powerful, grizzly-haired
man, busied in pi'essing tlie skins, attracted my
notice by his obviously Teutonic face. I spoke to
him at once in German. Ilis stern features re-
laxed, and, in reply to my questit)ns, he told me
his simple story. 'I was born,' lie said, 'near
Berlin. We earn here far more than in the
Fatherland ; but that does not make much difl'er-
eiice, for life here is dearer, or rather we live
better and don't deny ourselves good food. We
have meat every day and plenty of it. Every one
of us, provided he works hard, is sure of finding
a living. Absolute want is unknown.'

Sir Patrick told me that this man had formerly
been in his pay, and earned 100/. a year. lie left
his service to become a ' free selector.' His wife

... ]'
•I ti ,

I'l »'

I I . V

' I ^ 1.1 ; '■

1 1

(1 t.!

II '1'

H
"111

III'

! 1 1 1

II'

I. il

i<'

^ ill III

,fiiM

iiiri

■ti

-^r \

312

AUSTRALIA

[part III.

takes care of tlie lionse and tlieir little jrarden,
and also looks after the few sheep which they
possess. lie himself jjfoes about for work from one
station to another. He is therefore a prosperous
man. The conscription in Germany, and his own
anti-military tastes, induced him, like so many other
of his countrymen, to emigrate. Tliis is the history
of all the ' free selectors ' and small farmers. Un-
less they are good-for-nothing fellows, they soon
become prosperous.

This station, one of the most considerable ones
of Darling Downs, is called Westbrook. The
dwelling-house is some miles off. The plateau re-
tains the same character ; pasturages enclosed by
fences alternate with the forest, which as a rule is
only half cleared. The toi)s of the mountains
wh'Jiwe have crossed are still visible, but they
look like low hills, and seem scarcely to rise above
the level of the plain.

Westbrook is a spacious house. A large
verandah shelters the bedrooms. In front of my
room some black spots are shown me — the blood of
a cobra killed yesterday by a cat. A few months
ago, when I iirst made my d(^hiit in the land of
snakes, I should have spent a sleepless night. Xow
I have not a trace of fear. One gets used to
everything.

l^-i

CHAP. IV.]

QUEENSLAND

0*0

" 1 !«

Our party is breaking up. Lord liosebery,
])iloted by Sir Patrick, returns to Sydney by land,
and I turn my steps towards India. A friend of
my host has undertaken to conduct me tlirougli
tlie Eldorado of big sc[uatters.

Drayton is a half-deserted group of houses.
It contains the oldest church — an Anu'li(*an one —
of Darling Downs, and a little way olf on the edge
of the forest stands a wooden hut surmounted
by a cross. This is the Itoman Catholic church.
Drayton belongs to the past. The much younger
town of Toowoomba, with the railway which
passes through it, but Avhicli avoids Drayton, takes
from the latter the elements of vitality. Di-aytou
is perishing like the eucalyptus, which is slowly
put to death by making a circular incision at the
bottom of the trunk.

Toowoomba looks grand. Many of its streets,
of inordinate length and width, are still waiting
for their rovrs of houses, but the town is already an
important centre, surrounded by villas and gardens.
The Norfolk pine seems much in fashion, and it
deserves to be so. With this exception, fire and
axe are destroying every vestige of wood over
the entire town. Germans foi'm a third and,
moreover, the most prosperous ])art of the
population.

A mile off stands an isolated house called

'I "^

III
I li

') II

mil :'

1. !■

|l '

H
II

II 1

I ^

III I

III

ill Hi

nrl

■\[\

fill

> s

1 1

■i^'

I'i

f'i

1 1

AUSTRALIA

[part iir.

Harloxton, placed on the liigliest point of tlie Coast-
ran<xe, at tlie very spot wliere the railway tops
it, eoinnian(lin<x a view on one side over the platean,
and on the other over a chaos of gorges and
spurs. A stream, which rises behind the house,
escapes, in a series of cascades, and flows away to
the Pacific. A few steps away, on the other side
of the villa, we see a narrow watercourse running
westward. The goal of its long journey across the
continent is the Indian Ocean.

Two gentlemen of Toowoomba have com^; to
dine witli my host, who, engaged as he is in land-
jobbing, has explored previously unknown parts of
the colony. He describes to us the feelings of a
man who is near dying of thirst. In fact, the "want
of water, the great scourge of Australia, is the only
hitherto insurmountable obstacle to the colonisa-
tion of the interior.'"^

Hitherto I have met with few Chinese in Aus-
tralia, but I am assured that, in spite of the stringent
laws passed against them, their number is con-
stantly increasing. Every son oi' the Celestial

^ I made at Sydney the acqiiaiiitance of Mr. Robert Watson, a
man vei'y honourably known in the colony. He had been connnis-
sioned by the Goveriunent of Queensland to explore a part of the
continent with the object of tracing a line of railway intended to
connect Brisbane with the Gulf of Carpentaria. The want of water
is one of the principal reasons why this project has had to be aban-
doned. The account of his expedition seemed to me full of interest.
See Queensland Transcontinental liaibraj, Melbourne, 1883.

cnAP. IV.]

QUEKNSLAND

315

Empire, no matter liow poor, is l)oiiiul on landint;
to deposit ten ])ounds, wliich are niven hnvk to
liim wlien lie leaves. But this does not stop
immigration. The coolie finds no difHculty in
borrowing from companies in China the sum — a
considerable one for the poor fellow — \vhi(^h is to
open to him the (h)ors of Australia. Once there,
he is sure to succeed, and as s(X)!i as he can lie
will discharixe the debt. I find here confirmed
what everyone says of the Chinese : they are the
best gardeners, the best agricultural labourers, the
best Avorkmen of every sort, the best cooks, and the
most honest and law-abiding people.

'II

'I IP
III'

The ' Dorunda,' Captain Hay, of the l^ritisli
India Company, is waiting for her passengers at
the mouth of the Ikisbane river.

This company, which is managed by first-rate
men, among Avhom Mr. Mackinnon is foremost, has
been largely developed during the last few years.
Their vessels, leaving England and passing through
the Suez Canal, carry the mails and passengers,
especially emigrants, to (Queensland. They traverse
enormous distances, without stopping or coaling,
as, for instance, that from Aden to J^atavia. Other
steamers of the same com])any work a line on the
East Coast of Africa, which, starting from JJombay,

iiml
iil<i

'" r

7' 4
1

i 1^1

'H f

lit

316

AUSTRALIA

[PAUr HI.

and toiicliiiif; at Aden, Zanzibar, and other points
of the Jvist African sea-hoard, terminates at I)ela<zoa
Jijiy. A re^qdar service, wliicli is very [Mjpular in
India, lias also been established between Singapore
und Calcutta.

The 'Dorunda,' like all the vessels of this
company, is a fine slii}), intended to carry emijirants
and car^'o, and constructed accordintrly. As the
accommodation reserved for those who are not
emigrants is somewhat limited, cabin-passengers
usually avoid these steamers when i^oini; to Aus-
tralia. J3ut they can be recommended for the
return voyage, as containing then few emigrants
and very few other passengers. \k\t what people
fear are ej)idemics, especially small-j)()X, which
constitute a latent but permanent danger on board
the bin; emij^rant steamers.

Being anxious to see the north-east coast of
Queensland, Torres Sti'aits, and the Dutch Indian
Archipelago, I decided, notwithstanding the advice
of my friends, on a route which is reputed dangerous
both on account of the climate and the numerous
coral reefs encountered on the way. In fact, the
company, since it was first started, has lost several
vessels. But now, thanks to the excellent lisrhtinii
of the coasts and the accurate knowledge acquired
of these previously seldom- visited seas, accidents
and disasters have become extremely rare. The

CHAP. IV.]

nUF.ENSLAND

it of
idiaii
Ivice

M'OllS

;rous

tl
ver

le
al

litinix
I'ed

Idents
The

banks of coral sti'otcli from nortli to soutli, leaviiLj
])etween tliein and llie coast ininionse lagoons which
they serve to sliolter from tlie wind, when blowini;
from the east. As this inner sea is comparatively
shallow, not more than 1*20 feet in depth at most,
captains have the advantaL'e of hcini: able to
anclior in a foj? and lie to without danirer until
the weather clears airain.

The Government of Queensland, which en-
couraLces immiiiraticm by all the means at its
disposal, grants a free })assage to young women,
and every steamer (the service is a monthly one)
carries from eighty to a hundred of them. Colo-
nists who are in want of a servant, or who, as
most frequently is the case, wish to get out a
female relative, apply to the Tmmigi-alion Depart-
ment at Brisbane, and there deposit two pounds,
intended for the young person as her outfit for the
voyage. The passage, as I have said, is ])aid by
the Colonial Government. Most of these young
women belong to the lovv^er middle classes ;
nursery-maids, governesses, and other young per-
sons who have received a certain education are
found among them. Spotless character and
irreproachable morals are the lirst conditions of
admission. Durincj the vovaue out, these vounir
female emigrants, placed under the care of a
matron and two under-matrons, conduct them-

(' ii

ri'l r ^

3i8

AUSTKAl.IA

[PAUT III,

. I

I I

selves well. Tliey arc put under strict rules;
they hsive to pet up at the ilrst souud of
the bell, dress in a pi\'en time, and tidy their
cal)ins, ndiiijh are inspected after l^reakfast by the
matron. They are divided into messes of ten
persons, who take their meals together, when the
eldest or the most staid amonp tliem presides, with
the title of cjiptain ! The after-cabins which tiiey
occupy are closely shut ofT from the otlier j^arts of
the vessel. On the deck, a double hand-rail sepa-
rates them from the first-class ])assen<iers, witii
whom they are forbidden to speak across this
barrier. Even tlieir father, mo ir, or brothei's
can only see them twice a week.

In infant colonies, like Queensland, the doctrine
of cre.scite et tnultijtlicatnini constitutes a most
important element of develojnnent and future
greatness. Tliis explains the bounty of the local
government, and its desire to su])ply the colony
incessantly with an article as precious as it is fragile,
but which, thanks to good packing, arrives always
iix good condition.

We have on board a matron who is on her third
voyage. She is an Australian woman, unmarried,
and about thirty years old, well educated and with
the manners of a lady. The Government of Bris-
bane employs five or six matrons in this work.
They are paid their expenses of the voyage and

[ways

tliird

Ivried,

with

Bris-

ork.

and

CHAP. IV,]
dl

QUEENSLAND

3«9

)•

diinn<r tlicir stay in

Loud

on, and receive o

()/.

addition, as a fee for each trip.

The otljer eini<i;rants are divided into two classes,
married couples and bachelors. They occii])y
separate (piarters in the centre and fure ])art of the
ship.

The servants and sailors on hoard the 'Dortnida '

all L

itr

>f th

.fC^alcutt;

iascars, n;

and number about a hundred. The captain, olliceis
and quartermasters, altoj^ether twenty men, are
English, and there are a dozen ])assengers besides.
An insufficient i>roportion of whites to blac^ks, if
the dilficulties of navigation in these seas are con-
sidered, and also the nature of the shores, which
are either uninhabited or inhabited by cannibals.
]^iit I am assured that, in the event of a conspiracy,
the Lascar servants of the officers would i,dve
timely warning to their masters. I am told the
same story wherever a handful of English are living
in the midst of blacks. There is always a faithful
servant, the ' Friday ' of Eobinson Crusoe, on whom
they rely in the liour of danger.

Our ship is steaming along the coast in glorious
weather. The sea, here in reality but an immense
lake, looks like a sheet of glass. The coast is
rather picturesque, with promontories jutting out

t I.

u •>

I'*
hi

■••I

"ll'

"II:

II I

111'

n i<l
M I

111!
111'

;,|:H

■ ml

III"

) !

lit

320

AUSTRALIA

[part II r.

in succession, each like tlie otlier. But there are
few trees.

The town of Eockhampton, situated in tlie
interior, exactly under tlie tropic of Capricorn, lies
behind a chain of mountains wliicli have tlie draw-
back of hidinjjf it from the navijxator and depriving
it of the heidthy sea-breezes. While our steamer
is loading a ])rodigious pile of bales of avooI, the
captain takes me on board a small launch to Eock-
hampton, thirty-five miles by river. The farther
we go the more burning becomes the air. In a little
creek a biix alliizator, half hidden in the mud, is
sleeping peacefully, and no one thinks of disturbing
him. lie is an old and familiar acquaintance of
the river boatmen, who, however, abstain from
bathing in the stream.

Eockhampton is a furnace. One Mr. Feez, a
Bavarian, the ])ioneer par excellence, and one of the
founders of the town (1857), does the honours.
A street — the principal, if not the only, one —
extends alomy one side of the river, the banks
of which have just been connected by an imposing
bridge. On a height is seen an im})osing school,
and on another hill an equally imposing hospital.
All around the trees have been felled, which gives
the town a bare and indescribably dull appearance.
]]ut if Eockhampton does not yet shine l)y its
charms, it has already acquired very high import-
ance as a centre of exportation.

CHAP. IV

QUEENSLAND

,21

Next day tlie ' Dorunda' touclies at ^Lackay,
the larii'est enti'eput, after liockhanipton, of the
wool sent iVoiii the stations in the interior.

We passed one day the steamer, helonu'inii to
tlie same company, which liad left London nearly
two months ai^o. It was crowded with emiLiiants.
Massed npon the deck, they sainted ns enthnsi-

ijood

)1(

'lianted

leemed enc

to l)e drawing- near the close of their lonir voyaiic,
and soon alxmt to tread the soil of their new
countiy.

T have heard nmch said of the ])ictni'esque
ch.irms of Whitsnnday rassaif<\ It has some re-
semblance to the imier sea of Ja])an, but withont
the incom])aral)le beauty of the latter.

All this coast is now admirably lighted by
a numbei' of liLdithonses, constructed at thi' ex-
pense of the colony. A (iueensland Government
cutter, stationed at Thursday Inland, brink's to the
keepers from time to time their stock of oil and
the necessaries of life. As this sea-board is peo])led
with hostile tribes, islands didicult of access to the
savages' canoes have been chosen, as far as pos-
sible, for ])nildini; these towers, each of which is
surrounded with an outwork, and left in charL''e of
four men, who live there with their families.
What a life !

VOL. I.

i 1

li f^

1 '

)•>

!"l

ii< III

"Mil

iiml

ll'l'!

;;|:ll

'fj

T^B^^fBflB^W

AUSTRALIA

[r.M'vT in.

Townsville, so called after its founder, Ca])taiii
''J'owiis, uuiiibers, tlianks to its o()ld mines, more tlian
six tliousand inliabitants. Tliis youtliful ])laee lias
become, moreover, the ^rent de])nt and centre of ex-
port for the inland wool-trade. From time to time
the squatters come liere to lay in j^rovisions and
resale themselves awhile at an excellent hotel on
the solid comforts of civilised life. This hotel
])asses for the first in Australia. It owes its repu-
tation to the cleverness of the proprietor and the
skill of a Chinese cook, who is paid five pounds a
week. Townsville si)reads uj) the first slopes of an
arid mountain, and surpasses the other towns of
Australia, wdiich otherwise it resembles, in the
number of its small gardens. Nature in her wild
state bcixins where the town ends, and seems even
to ])enetrate the tow^n itself, to judge from the forest
bushes in full fiower at this season, which intrude
tliemselves freely at the street-corners or in other
])laces, hi fact vrherever suits them best. This inti-
macy between savagery and civilisation has a certain
touch of poetry about it. In the gardens the Pon-
tlana n>(/ia, imported from India, and now all
c;overed v.dth yellow and purj)le flowers, aflbrds a
slight shade and makes one forget the monotony
of the buildings. It is Sunday, and a buggy con-
veys us slowly towards theEoman Catholic church,
alomx the burning sand of the shore. In the after-

CHAP. IV.]

QUEENSLAND

"% '> ->

noon we visit tlie environs. Tlie lieat is truly
overpowering'. We drive in a wagonnette alon<^f-
side of the railway wliicli connects the town witli
tlie mines. No sooner have we left the shore than
we find ourselves rio-ht in the forest. Some minutes
later, the last houses have disa{)peared behind us,
and we are now in solitude. The bush is less uirly
than in the south of the continent. The euca-
lyptus is everywhere, but its leaves seem to me
greener and the varieties more numerous. The
poplar gum-trees, which belong to the same family,
and are known by their white bark, and the pan-
danus or corkscrew-palm, impart some variety to
the habitual sameness of Australian forests. As it
is Sunday, we meet some buggies with people inside,
and a cart full of sons of the Middle Empire. The
latter are on their way to some gamblirg-house, or
to one of those dens whither opium-smokers repair
on holidays. Here the number of the Chinese is
steadily increasing. As labourers, they are pre-
ferred to the Kanaks (of the Sandwich Islands),
and to the Sin<ihalese of Ceylon. But neither one
nor the other can be dis})ensed with, as tlie tropical
climate renders white labour im})ossible.

The object of our excursion is the Vale of
Acacia. This is the name given by two enter-
prising men to their gardens in the midst of the
forest. They settled here only a j'ear ago, and iu

Y 2

■! I

i .1 1 1
...ill ,,,

I'f

1 1"

! !•
I I!

il .

'ill'

I M

!■
11

ihiH

■Il'l
..Ml

.111 ,:i

'*lh

i'p

324

AUSTRALIA

[part in.

this short space they have cleared and planted
this tract of land. An agent whom they employ
in New Guinea sends them rare plants, more or
less known, and especially new kinds of orchids.
They are beginning already to cx])ort them to
India, CaUfornia, and England. Tlie Cd-'f^'^uariiis
Johihsonn. a large bird with brown plumage, un-
couth feet, and a slouchinir o-;tit, wliich has a
certain affinity to the ostrich, is rpiite in his place
in the midst of tliis exotic, varicoloured, and
shining foliage. On the branch of a tree we sur-
prise a tree-frog in the act of attacking a gigantic
ant. A frog that lives on trees ! It is one of
those things only seen in Australia.

On our way back we come upon a famil}' of
aborigines, camped in the bush, composed of the
chief, about forty years of age, his two wives, and
a sick daughter ; the man is conspicuous for his re-
pulsive ugliness. Two soldiers of the native ])olice
are with them. The women turn away from us,
])ut do not escape being seen. All of them seem
cast in the same mould : a bestial countenance, a
ferocious ex])ression, alow and stunted figure. We
cannot help admiring the skill of this hideous fellow
in throwing tlie boomerang, a terril)le weapon, and
yet nothing but a piece of wood in the form of a
sickle. It flies away, darts up to a prodigious
height, describes zigzags, and, finally descending.

CHAV. IV.]

QUEENSLAND

olice
11 us,

seem
ice, a
We

How

and
of a
ijious
idins,

■^ o -*

returns to tlie point whence it started. "When
used for fiixlitinjir, it is hurled so as to touch the
earth, and it strikes its victim on tlie rebound. To
determine tlie point of attack by calculation would
be a problem beyond the power of a jj^eometrician,
but it is one which the savage solves by instinct
and practice.

Our vessel, after quitting Townsville, rounds
the Ivtagnetic Island, the ferruginous rocks of which
deflected the compasses of Cook. On the shore of
this uninhabited island some sheds have just been
built, intended for quarantine.

The nearer we a])proach the equator the moister
becomes the air, which has hitherto been excessively
dry. Alas, all is not rose-coloured in these long-
voyages under the latitudes of the torrid zone !
Thus, unfortunately, the captain of the ' Dorunda '
had not had time, before leaving Brisbane, to clear
the hold of the water accumulated there since
leaving England, the pestilential smell of which
poisons the cabins. Add t(j tliis innumerable cock-
roaches of monstrous size.

These loathsome animals are shipped on board
with the coals. They gnaw rather than bite the
hair and nails, and their disgusting smell, coupled
with imaginary terrors, disturl s the traveller's

! II :

! , I 1
I'll
I !•

II-

'fill

,hl

I ^li '

:M III
I'M

ilT'
ll'l

:|;H
.1 ■

I'i

.51

tsm

326

AUSTRALIA

[PAIIT III.

I !

sleep. Tlie food also, composed of tinned meat and
vegetables, and tlie damp heat, which grows more
and more intoleral)le, enervate and depress most
of the passengers. I see them sti'etched in tlieir
armcliairs. Drowsine>« and melanclioly, the ])re-
cursors of illness, are <iettinix the better of tliem.
The old tourist does his best to ])ut a good face on
it. As he drags liimself panifully along tlie deck,
in feeble make-believe of a ' constitutional,' and sees
his companions in misfoi'tune fast asleep, he thinks
of the fourth act of ' Eobert le Diable.' But here
there is no magic wand. Nobody can waken these
sleepers. Tlie nights especially are fearful. I al-
ways spend part of them in the armchair of which
the good captain has deprived himself for me. It
is on the fore-deck, and there it is deliiihtful. Tlie
warm wind of the ves.sel plays upon your checks.
But it is only an illusion. You sufl'er for it none
the less, and few venture to remain there all nitilit.
The extreme dampness, which engenders fever,
forces you to return to the stufl'y heat, the smell
of the bilgewater, and the terrible C(jckroaches in
your cabin.

We keep coasting along and skirting the shore,
which becomes more and more broken, but covered
with brushwood, and is inhabited by savages, who,

CH.vr. IV.]

QUEENSLAND

?>^-7

according lo tlie accounts of travellei-s, confinncd hy
oflicial i)a]K'rs, present tlic lowest type of the liuinan
rMce. The aboriijines of Queensland are iiomnds
of the most barbarous kind; cannibals who know
nothino- of agriculture and recognise no law.
Nevei'tlieless, the extraordinary develo])nient of
their language Avould seem to Justify the theory of
learned men who maintain that this race, after
having attained a com])nratively hioh de*n-ee of
civilisation, h.as gradually degenerated before sink-
ing to their present state of utter degradatio:i.
Planters, in increasing numbers, who have been bold
enough to land on these coasts of evil fame, have
ventured to settle here together with their wives
and children, jiehind their huts, which are built in
the form of blockhouses, begins the forest, and in
the forest, as they kn )W well, prowls the savage.
Thus they never scir )Ut spade in hand, witliout a
revolver in their l<elt, and a gun on their shoulder.
They either kill or are killed, and it is most often
they who kill. The atrocities committed on bo^h
sides, but particularly by the whites, make one's
hair stand on end to listen to them. Let us hope
that the rumours which constantly reach iirisbani^
Sydney, and Melbourne are exaggerated. Tliis is
the way in which tlie coufpiest of tlie savage world
is being accomplished.

The fartlier north you l'"*) the "-rciter i< '-e

I
li

II
ti
1 1

;M HI
II III

ll'l'l

|;| I*

1.1 ■ ' I

I if 1 1

328

AUSTRALIA

[I'AUT III.

(lanuer. The cleei)cr voii Dciietnitc into tlie in-
tcrior, j)eo])k'(l ;is it is with tribes enfeebled by
famine, tlie smaller it becomes.

We have on board a mendiant M'ho lias settled
at Normanton, a small but urowini^" town, inhabited
by four hundred wliite>, at the end of the Gulf of
Car|)entaria. 'J'here is no (.•hurch, no doctor, no
chemist, but oid}- banks and hotels. Nevertheless
it is what is called a rising place. Ilojjes are enter-
tained, at any rate on account of the sheep-stati(jns.
which are beginninu' to appear in tliese remote
regions. I asked the merchant's wife, whom he had
just brought fi'om ToAvnsville, and her sister, it
they were not afraid to banish themselves to these
solitary parts. They said they were not ; the only
thing they feared were the blacks. And well may
they fear them. Her husband tells me that on the
shores of the Gulf of Car])entaria the aborigines, who
are dving of huno-er, send out bands of some twenty
at a time to hunt. When these younu men fail
to brinii' iu enough jx^ame — and there is not much
of it in these forests of i>'um-trees — the last to

return is killed and eaten. Mr. has lived

much Avith savages. According to him, they are
afraid of the -whites, and only attack them at favour-
able moments, especially at niglit time during their
sleep. They are considered perfect adepts in the

cnAi'. IV.]

QUEENSLAND

329

art of aj)pr<)acli, l)y rrcepiiiir lliroujili llie brush-
wuud, without uuikiuji' the suiallest uoisc.

1 1

Cooktowu, wliicli bears tlie name of tlie rrrcat
navigator, is in full decHne. l5oi-n with the dis-
covei'Y of gold in the neighlxnirhood, it lias been
dwindling away since the mines liave l)een al)an-
doncd. Many of the houses are em})ty and falling
U) ruin.

The heat increases, and we are close on summer
and drawing nearer and nearer to the equator!
The captain, wdio lias sailed much in the Indian
seas, tells me that the lied f^ea, the Persian Galf,
and the regions of Eastern Australia are the hottest
in the world.

The navigation also, in the midst of these banks
of coral and islets, which scarcely rise above the
surface of the sea, is perilous in the extreme. For
four days and four nights the cai)tain has not left
the bridge. His cTicers are round him, studying
the charts, exchnniiinii' their observations, and
directin<r the man it the wheel.

'Ml'

1 1 ' ' ■

■
■' III

IIKI

Ml
ill''

•111:

Thanks to the full moon, the ' Dorunda ' has
ventured to enter Torres Straits durino- the ni<dit.

,. /-:•

■

"10

OJ^

AUSTRALIA

[part III.

This moruiiiL' (DocoinlxT 18) slie rasts anclior a
few fathoms oll'Tliursihiy Ishiiul.

At Sychiey, JJrishaiu', and Mclbouriio, ])co|)lo
spoke to me with onthiisiji'^m alxmt tliis encliautin^
ishiiid. It is true tiiat tliose wlio described its
])oetieal charms had not visited it themselves.

But what a disappointment! It is a sort of
Sound, sluit in by low and rocky isles and islets,
some covered with eucalyptus, others with scrul),
and all of tliem destitute of springs.

The t(»>vn (!) of 'J'hursdiiy Island occupies a hnv-
lying touLi'ue of land which projects into the sea.
The busli beii'ins behind these miserable dwellinijs,
the fronts of wliich are waslied by the sea. At the
cud of this sandv proniontoi'v, whicli terminates in
a small mound, stands the lioiise of the niaLnstrate.
He has had cleared away the liiiiit brushwood and
tlie trees which surrounded his I'esidence, in front
of which floats tlie (iiieensland ilaj^^ Close by is
tlie court-house, a wftoden hnt, with the judge's
bench, the jury-box, and the prisoners' bar.
Happily, owing to the lack of population, no crimes
are committed in this fortunate island. Workmen
(blacks) who have broken their contracts supply
the only tenants of the prison, another small
building at the side of tlie court-house. This
latter serves also as an assembly-room wlienevei"
an entertainment is given to the captains and

cnAP. IV.]

QUEENSLAND

1 -^ r

and

officers of moii-of-war and otlicr visitors, and as a
eliurcli on tlie few o(;easions when a clergyman
a])pcars in these reu'ions. A foni'tli house contains
the offices of tlie niaii'isti'ate, the Cu-tonis, and the
Post. Lastly, a cottage, serving as a l)arr;ick, ac-
•"omniodates the live soldiers of the white consta-
bulary who form the ai'med force of tjie island.

\\'ithin gunshot of the official quartei" stands
the town, consisting of about a dozen j)o()r-looking
houses, two or three shops, and a couple of inns,
the latter always crowded. The Iiotel-kcepeis
therefore, soon make their fortunes. I'his is ex-
plained by the number of steamers that tourh hei'e ;
Jirst, the small colonial steamboats whidi carry the
mails, then the large packets which ply to anil fro
between k^ydney and Hongkong, and. la-t but not
least, those of the J^ritish India Conijiany.

The floating population of Thui'sday Island iind
of the adjacent islets amounts to about fifteen
•umdred persons,- of whom forty- live are whites.
The rest are Malays, Pacific; Islanders, Chinese, and
a very small nund^er of Ja])anese. Tlie childi'en of
the Eisui<; Sun do not emiu'rate. Tliere are no
al)origines in Thursday Island and very few in tlie
islets around, but the shores of the neiuhbouiiiii.'
continent swarm with them.

The chief, and I believe the oidy, industry hei'e
is pearl-diving. The whites do n<jt take to it.

ii .

I.I
II

'It
111 '

II HI

II \\

\\\

\\\
1:11

I'vi

i,!..

fil \

«ll

'III I

33^

AUSTRALIA

[r,\ur III.

None bill moil of (;ol()ur, hclnuL^'mu' to tlie races I
have just iiaiiicd, CNpouse tliis daiiu'i'i'ous calling/.
And vi't accideMits are rjirc. The sea is alive with
.sliarks,l)ut they scarcely I'ver attack the diver, whose
dress iViuhteiis them. Nevertheless, the 'shellers,'
as they are called, never like meetinjjf this formidable
monster of the deej), which conies near them, j)eers
at them with his small eyes, swims round them,
jostles them, and linally leaves them slowly and
with seemin<4" regret, but without doing them any
harm.

To reach tlie magistrate's residence you have to
cross a fiery zone — the o[)en st)ace which he has
cleared round the house. But inside, thanks to
excellent ventilation, the atmosphere is compara-
tively cool. The magistrate linds the climate hot
but healthy. His wife, who thinks otherwise,
groans <*^ er the lirst approach of summer. Mr.
Letlier has lived here for eight years, lie it is
who recently proclaimed the annexation of New
Guinea to (Queensland, which the English Govern-
ment immediately annulled.

Ste{)ping down to the shore we see a canoe
approacdiing, filled with aborigines from the main-
land o])posite. They are quite black, and wear
nothing but a sort of diadem of white shells.
Impossible to imagine any t lung more hideous, more
fantastic, and more decidedly savage.

I'Aur in.

CTTAT. IT.]

QUEENSLAND

>> ■^ ^
.■> J

111 tlio jirU'i'Moon flic 'Dnnmda' wcii^lis ;iiicli(»i-,
and s(»(>ii after. |)as-<iiiL'' near Hoohy Islaiul. Inrnu'i'ly
calK'cl the Post Ollicc K-aws Tonvs Straits. Tliis
islot is notliiiiLf l)ut a low rock \vli(»lly destitute of
vcL«"ctatioii, except sonic scrub iu the ticnchcs hoi
lowed out l)y the rain. On the toj) is seen a caini.
where, l)efore any steaniers came thithei", the cap-
tains of sailin;i-ships dc))osite(l their letters for
Kuro])C. 'J'he next coniei's made a point of for-
warding those letters, and left their own. Clouds
of sea- fowl, the only inhahitants of this rock, lly away
scared at our a])])earance, and fill the air with the
noise of their wiiiLTs. We leave on our left rrince
of Wales [sland. and steam, ji'ucssiiiiL:" its where-
abouts rather than seeinu" it, along the southern
coast of Xew Cruinea.

The sea is like a lake, the moon veiled, the air
warm but less burning since avc left the Australian
continent and ])lunged into the vast sj)aces of the
Arafura Sea.

Whoever has followed for the last fifteen or
twenty years the movements of ])olitical opinion in
England and the colonies, must have thought thai
the separation of the latter from the mother-
country was merely a question of time. ^lany
politicians looked on this event as imminent, others

I.I

■I

l| in
•Ml

M HI
U M

11"

I IK

i;ri'

«!. .

,i fl

334

AUSTRALIA

[part III.

f t'

a> ill tlic near future, aud all, or nearly all,
as inevitable. People in Eu^Hand made u|) their
minds to lose the eolonies, be^an to examine tlu'
advantatres that would result to the mother couu-
try. and, in short, prepai'ed to be resiixned and to
make a virtue of necessity. I am not speakini^'
now of that school of English politicians whose
avowed aim is the dismemberment of the British
Empire ; I have in view simply the bulk of news*
])aper readers and the political world in j^eneral.
Tlie publications of the time attest this. Anthony
Trollo[)e, ill liis book written twelve j'ears ago,
made himself the mouthpiece of this opinion. The
(M)lonies, it was said, ai"e like children who have
attained their majority; daughters who are going
to ' e mai'ried. The parents have brought them
up ana given them a dowry, and they are about to
])art with them, not without heartache, but on
iiood terms. When I heard statesmen of liio'h rank
and long experience, with whom I was intimate,
hold this language, I could hardly believe my ears.
l)Ut the fact is incontestable. It is needless to add
that these were not the opinions of all the poli-
ticians Avhom I knew.

Since that time a great reaction has set in in
England, the origin of which seems to me to
coincide witli the reawakening of public opinion
since the Eusso-Turkish war.

PART III.

CHAP. IV.]

OUEENSLAND

■ '*.

Ay all

|) tboir

iiic till'

r couii-

and to

^eakinjj

wliost,'

Hritish

t" iiew.-^*

general.

JltllOllV

rs ago,

1. The

lo have

•e froiiiij'

il them

bout to

mi on

h rank

iniate,

y ears.

to add

le poli-

t in in

me to

opinion

Rut what are the feeliuii's of the colonies? I
know not how to express them moi-e faithfully
than by suniminu' u]) the views of some men who
speak on this subject with authority.

'The Australians ihemselves,' said an English
statesman to me, 'are proud of their attachnieni.
lo theii- mother-country, the (iueen, and the Iioyal
family. It is a praisewoi'thy feelinji', which lias
also the merit of being sincere. But in jxditics loo
much weight must not be attached to feeling.
Moreover, this affection will naturally be weakened
by time. It will be less lively among future gene-
rations born in the colonies. No doubt it is an
important element, but its importance must not
be ovei'rated.

'What (constitute the strength of the ties
which unite the colonies to the mothci'-couutry
are common interests, at once important, positive,
and palpable. Hence no one here dreams of sepa-
I'ation. They know that they w<»uld gain nothing,
and that they would lose nuich, by such a step.
The colonies ])os.sess the most complete autonomy,
a constitution wholly democratic, and almost I'c-
publican. They are model republics, in the sense
that nearly everyone is rich and independent,
without havin;/ to suffer the inconveniences and
dangers which elsewhere ])eriodically recur with
tliC election of the President. In this case the

'IT

''111!

ill''

Sill'

i;iii'

■ " >^

' ■

•J

'i li

J, Jl

33^

AUSTRALIA

[part III.

Queen sends every five years a Governor, wlio is not
an autocrat like tlie President of ihe United ;^tates,
l)u( the re])resentative of constitutional royalty.
Ill America, every four years, business is arrested,
])ul)]ic order is (listurl)ed, and passions are let
loose to the point sometimes of llr. catenintx even
public life itself. And why P In order that the
nation may elect an absolute master, irren.ovable
by law duriuLT bis ])eriod of ollice. Here everyone
undt^rstands tliis, and everyone knows how to leave
Avell alone.

' People in Australia bave also carefullv Aveio'bed
the political and material advantaLi'cs accruinii
to the colonies from their union Avitli Enii'land.
As to militaiy matters, it is true, they are oldiijed
to trust to their own resources ; not a sinirle
Enii'lish soldier now remains on Australian soil.
J^ut, in case of need, they believe they can I'cckon
on the naval forces of the Oueen, the colonies
themselves not possessing any fleet. Financiallv,
the old countrv is a mine of o-old infniitelv richer
than any now being worked in Victoria, New
t^)uth Wales, Queensland, or New Zealand. The
vonders that excite your astonishment are pro-
duced very larirely with the gold extracted from
the coffers of the mothei'-country, which is ever
ready to advance whatever funds are re<|uired.
No doubt money is cosmopolitan, and knows

CHAP. IV.]

QUEENSLAND

ZZ7

neither frontiers nor patriotism, but English
lenders will perhaps be less free with their money
wlien it comes to be a question of lending to a
stranger, tliat is to say, to countries which, as a
consequence of separation, will be wholly emanci-
pated from English control. And lastly, Austra-
lians know wliat it is to share the prestige of a
great power wlio is mistress of the seas.'

I do not hesitate to say that the foregoing re-
marks correspond with my own impressions.

One of the leading Ministers of one of tlie
princi])al colonies said to me : ' The colonies are
loyal, it is their interest to be so ; and, what is
more, they are loyal from tlie lieart. The emi-
grants from Great Britain carry with tlieni to
tlieir new country tlicir attachment to the land of
their birth. Their cliildren. born in Australia,
have not, it is true, the same traditions or tlie
same reminiscences. Tliey are loyal, but in a
secontr^ry sense, because their panMits were loyal,
and (M^nsequentlv the feelimr of loyalty is less
active among them. ( )n the other hand, the ter
ritory which we posst^ss is immense. Tlie new
enactments winch at this moment are being drafted
in all the colomes ^11 give, in spite of the seltish
and unenliglitened opposition of tlie masses, a new
impulse to emigration, and the new-comers will
entertain the old feelinizs of lovaltv to the mother-

VOL. I. Z

1 1

X III

',1"

I: I \\

'i'i

338

AUSTRALIA

[part III.

country. You must not compare Australia with
tlie United States, which are tlie ofrs])ring of a
revokition. Witli us, no painful memory of the
past has ever intervened to disturb the cordial
cliaracter of our relations with England. What-
ever may be the political views or doctrines of our
emigrants, they come here to gain their living and
to make a fortune. They do not come to realise
tliis or that political idea.'

Let us hear again one of the big squatters.
' Peo})le are very democratic in Australia, but they
are not republican. They are attached to the
Eoyal family and to England. I am not speaking
only of gentlemen, but of the large majority of
immigrants who spring from tlie people. Those
bom in the colonies share these sentiments, but
they draw a distinction between immigrants and
their fellow-citizens of Australian birth. Durin<'
the last elections an elector said to me, " I do not
sliare yo«ur pohtical opinions, but I shall vote for
you, as you have married a woman born in Aus-
tralia." '

But if no one in the colonies now aims, or per-
haps has ever aimed, at separation, the notion of a
conlederation is more and more occupying their
thoughts, and this federation presupposes, as an in-
dispensable condition, an Australian customs union

CHAP. IV.]

QUEENSLAND

339

with or witliout Xcw Zealand. This has liitlicrto
been the main obstacle to the realisation of a project
frequently mooted, but never yet seriously debated.
A few days after I left Sydney a Con^n-ess, com-
posed of Ministers of all the Australian colonies
and New Zealand, was about to meet in that
capital to arrive at a solution of this important
question.'^

Ten or twelve years ago the conclusion of a
federal compact was looked upon as the forerunner
of separation from England. The body, it was
said, will be too big, and the ties whicli cormect it
to the old country too slender. They will break.
This Avas tlien an article of faitli. At tlie present
day, on tliis point also opinions have become
modified. A new idea is beginning to gain ground :
why not include the mother-country in the federa-
tion? Tlie most advanced men have taken hold of
this notion. This is their ])rogramme : England,
like tlie colonies, will adopt universal suffrage pure
and simple ; the House of Lords will disappear, and
be replaced by a Legislative Council from which
the hereditary principle will be eliminated ; Aus-
tralasian deputies, sent to London, will take part
in all the labours of the English Parliament. The
fusion between England and the colonies will be
complete. The Atlantic and the Lidian Oceans will
^ This Congress separated without achieving any dtiinite residt.

1 1

■'I'

I III

\\
It I

. ,t

'.i i

I-

m^m

I '

;40

AUSTRALIA

[part in.

have ceased to exist. I tlionglit I myself was
dreaming when I lieard these dreams set fortli, not
indeed by visionaries but by sober-minded men, by
high functionaries and even by a Minister in office.
Tliis, I repeat, is tlie programme of the most ad-
vanced men, but it is the programme which lias
tlie most hold upon the masses, who, thanks to
universal suffrage, have the supreme power in their
hands. I am anxious to add that at Sydney, in
my talks with Ministers and the leading landowners
and merchants, I have never heard an opinion
expressed but what bore the stamp of common
sense, moderation, and a just appreciation of facts.
These people are by no means enamoured of such a
project of federation with England as is formulated
by the Radicals. But the growth of this idea,
fanciful as it now appears, of a grand confedera-
tion which would completely revolutionise Old
England, or rather, which would create a new
England by the handiwork and after the pattern
of her children in Australia — the growth of this
idea among the masses here is, to my mind, an
indubitable fact.

During my stay in Austraha I found some
alarm prevailing in consequence of reports, which
were constantly arriving from New Caledonia and

CHAP. IV.]

QUEENSLAND

)4I

Europe, of an extension oftlie convict system, then
in contemplation by the French Government. On
this subject I will quote once more the words of a
Minister in office : ' What absorbs our attention at
present is the Foreign question. It is one which
concerns all our colonies alike. The question
is how to keep clear of political dangers which
threaten us from outside. We cannot tolerate the
possession of New Guinea and the New Hebrides
by a foreign power. The existence near us of a
convict settlement (like that of New Caledonia)5
from whicli convicts might escape daily, to land in
small bands upon our shores, would be a source of
embarrassment and danger to us. We have asked
the Imperial Government to annex the southern
coast of New Guinea, or at least to establish a pro-
tectorate over those territories, wliile ofl'ering our-
selves to bear a portion of the expense occasioned
by maintaining a small naval station in those
quarters.'

I have already reminded the reader that the an-
nexation of New Guinea to Queensland, proclaimed
by the magistrate of Tliursday Island, was annulled
by the Englisli Government. Urgent requests
made again and again to the same elTect were, in
spite of the growing exa^-peration of the colonies,
at first categorically refused by Lord Derby, then
gently put aside, and ultimately admitted in prin-

II ^
1 1

■f^^

I n

t I:

II..
Ilii

Ml"'
n

■■■ml

' ^

?;///

342

AUSTRATJA

[part III,

ri[)lo, reserving tlie disoiission of terms.* Tliis fact,
wliicli is extrcmt'ly sin-niQciiiit, exemplifies tlie
nature of tlie relations between tlie colonies and
the Imper'al Government.

I have no intention of disrnssini]^ the most
important question of all, kiunvn as the Land
(juestion,"'' wliieli relates to the acquisition and
])cssession of land. It would lead me too far
afield, and woidd only interest actual or intending
landowners in Austraha. I will only remind the
reader that, originally, after the expropriation, in
])rinciple and practice, of tlie indigenous inhabit-
ants, the soil was declared the property of the
(h'own. Subsequently, on the establishment of
constitutions with responsible governmei^t, the
])ossession of the soil was vested in each colony,
on condition that the local government should
dispose of it to those colonists who might wish to

■* Since my return to Europe, partly under the pressure of public
opinion in the colonies, but above all in view of the sudden and
unexpected development of German colonial policy, which has
been inaufjfuratcd with such enerp^y. the English Government, re-
ciinting its antipathy to any territorial extension of the Colonial
I'hupire, has made important annexations in New Guinea and East
Africa.

* I must refer the reader, on this subject, to what Anthony
Trollope has written, and to a countless number of pamphlets,
books, and official documents published in Blue-books.

J ,

CHAP. I V.J

QUEENSLAND

343

acquire l()t«!, witli tlie intention of livin<x tlion^ and
workinir thoni, eitlier by rcarin<^ slieep or cattle,
or by tillage or otherwise. It is well known that
the squatters, who formerly composed the aristo-
cracv of the colonies, are not the owners of the
vast runs, but only farm them, and that the 'free
selectors,' as they are called, who seek to purchase
small lots enclosed in these runs, can acquire them
ar3 they choose, notwitlistanding the protests of the
squatter, who looks upon the ' free selector' as the
worst and most dangerous of his enemies. It is
also well known that politics and private interests
sometimes exercise a certain influence on the
way in which lands put up for sale are disjiosed
of, and that land speculation has assumed larire
proportions. We can understand, therefore, why
new land laws, bearing on this burning question,
are now being debated in the Parliament of Syd-
ney, and are coming to the front in the other
colonies. The spirit in v/hich these new laws will
be framed is not open to doubt : they will tend
to favour the purchasers of small lots and to
hinder the formation of large landed estates.

Various opinions are held respecting the pre-
sent state of affairs in Australia. Let us first hear
the pessimists. ' It is true,' they say, ' tliat these

1 1

I '. I
f|.'

klli

< I It

|!|
I (

I '

ril

i'Ll !

1 ■

f L

I lf

344

AUSTRALIA

[rAiiT in.

col')nios have produced wonders, and have pro-
duced them in a wonderfully sliort time. At first
sight this would almost b«^em to be the work of
magic. They have built towns of astonishing
splendour and magnificence ; they have reared
imposing pubUc edifices, and covered tlie waste
with charming dwelling-houses, villas, and gardens.
Their railways are spreading with amazing rapidity,
and South Australia has achieved a gigantic work
in the construction of a telegraphic line right
across the vast continent. But all this has been
done with money borrowed in Enfrland, where
an enthusia m has sprung up about Australia.
Government, companies, individuals — in a word,
everyone is over head and ears in debt. The
colossal obligations contracted by the State are
pledging its future to a frightful extent. The
existence of the companies depends entirely on
the fluctuations in the markets of Europe, that
of individuals on the business transacted by the
banks which have furnished them with funds.
Many of the Sydney people have a fine house,
ostentatiously furnished, at Pott's Point, Darling
Point, or in other fashionable suburbs, keep their
carriage, and five with their families in grand style.
But the fact is that all this luxury is paid for witli
money borrowed at some bank. They have or
make enough to pay the interest on the capital so

CHAP. IT.]

QUEENSLAND

345

borrowed, and to keep their liouseliuld goin*.' ; but
tlie day when the bank sliall demand repayment of
tlu loan tliL'y will be ruined. Business is bad
everywhere, but elsi wliere the crisis can be tided
over without a collapse occurring. Here we have
not the elasticity retpiired for the rebound. Last
year the sailors of the English squadron foiining tht;
AustraUan naval station deserted in iaigc .iund)ers
in consequence of the enormous wages they were
oflertd. Now you see thousands of men unemployed
thrown on the streets of Sydney and Melbourne.
The Government gives them free lodging for the
night, assists them indirectly, and sends many of
them into the inteiior, whence they will re-
turn immediately from lack of work. TIil' mis-
chief is increasing, and such a state of things is
thoroughly unsound ; and yet })r()Je<;ts oi' annexa-
tion are the order of the dav ! The Western Tacitic
is to beccmie an Australian lake ; (Queensland is
claiming Xew Guinea and tlie New Hebrides ; New
Zealand, the islands of Samoa and Tonga : Victoria
and New South Wales, other grou])s in Oceania. It
is a craze which is accounted for by the wants
of speculators, constantly in quest of lands to
buy or sell. These individuals or com])anies,
with the aid of their friends who sit in the liCgis-
lative AssembUes, now have it all their own way.
The pretended fear of convict recidivists, escaped

1 1 .
1 1

!l II
11

I I

i *

346

AUSTRALIA

[part rn,

from New Ciilcdoiiia, and of iina^iitiary daii^'crs of
attark from some liostile power, arn mere pretexts
devised to agitate tlie pid)lic.'

To tliese ijfloomv conelusioiis and sinister fore-
bodings tlie o])timists, who form tlie immense
majority, reply witli a smile that seems to say,
and says : ' It is trne that the debts contracted by
tlic State in the (Y)lonies, especially New Zealand,
seem crnshing if you look at them with European
eyes, lint ])eoj)le forget, or do not sufficiently
understand, that we are minors with great expecta-
tions. We may surely be allowed to saddle our-
selyes with a few little debts before entering on
the enjoyment of our patrimony, which, so to
speak, is unlimited. This explains the temptation
to borrow and the fiicility of obtaining money.

' We possess a whole continent, which still is
in ])art, and in large part, dormant capital. This
capital must be turned to account, and that is pre-
cisely what we are doing. Our critics remind us of
the climate and the dryness of the soil. The interior,
they tell us, is a waterless desert. We shall trans-
form this desert into an immense irarden and rich
pasture-lands ; we shall find water ; we shall
contrive to draw it from the bowels of the earth.
Successful attempts have been made, and are
being made, in different parts of South Australia,
and in many places artesian Avells are already fur-

\\i

cnw. TV.]

OUF.r.NSI.AND

347

fur-

nisliin<r ahimdimi siipijlics. Tf the scnr'-ii y nCwattT
is the <;liiL'{' obstaclo to sui'iuouiit, ;it any rate it is
not insurniountahle.

' These arc not nioro (Mnpty words. To jnd;io of
the future, you luiye ouly to consider tlic present.
Cast a look hack, and compare wliat we were with
wliat we arc. Measure the distance winch our
colonies have traversed — the oldest of them within
the space of scarce a century, its youu^'cr sisters
in less than half that time, ])oth in less than
thirty years, for our birth I'eally dates from the
establishment of constitutions with I'csponsiblc
government — from the day, in other words, when
the Crown, contented with the shadow of sove-
reiufuty, abdicated it.s power in our favour. Civilisa-
tion, divided into several army corps, with tlu^ se:i
for a base of operations, is marchinji by converiiint;'
or parallel routes, is attacking, overthrowiiiLS and
destroyinj*' her enemy, barbarism, wherever that,
enemy is found. Nothing can resist her ; neither
man nor inanimate nature.

' The natives, who on this continent may be said
to take the place of big game on others, fly wlicn
we come in contact with them. At any rate they
are disappearing. It seems to be so decreed by Pro-
vidence, and we accept the decree without scrutiny.
Moreover, we would not have it otluM-wise if we
could. Overburdened with work, we have no time

1 1

I' (

111
111'. ,.

Itjl

I I'' '
M

I -

' m

J. i

148

AUSTRATJA

[PAKT III.

to spare for pliilantliropic or religions meditations.
II" it please God to rid us of the aborigines, so much
the better ; if not, we shall be able to defend our-
selves. The stories told about acts of cruelty
committed by our planters in Queensland are
exajmerated. No one denies that the velvet <rlove
is not always used, and that in these incessant
struggles, provoked by cannibals, our pioneers,
constantly exposed as tliey are to massacre, some-
times let themselves be drawn into reprisals wliich
we all deplore. But we belong to the Anglo-Saxon
race. We are born philanthropists. Many attempts
iuxve been made to improve the moral condition of
tlie savages; for instance, they have tried in the
north, with onlv moderate success, to organise a
force of constabulary composed of aborigines.
But, on the whole, we must confess that every
attempt which has been made to civilise tribes
reduced to the lower depths of pliysical, moral,
and intellectual degradation, has proved a total
failure.

' And, like man. Nature also in her wild state is
retreating, ilyiug, and changing herself the moment
^ve (;ome in contact with her. Immense tracts have
been, and are being constantly, turned into pasturage
or broken u]) with the plougii, and forests are being
cleared and intersected vvitli roads and railways,
ahnig the coasts and deep into the interior, whither

CHAP. IV.l

QUEENSLAND

349

bold oxj)l()rcrs are incessantly peneti'ating. Their
reports warrant the most brilliant ho])es. We now
know that all in those regions is not mere steppe
and sand, that w\ater is not w^anting everywhere,
and that with time, labour, and money, the eom])lete
conquest of this immense continent will be achieved.
Well then, we have no lack of time, for we are
young ; nor of strong arms — the mother-country
sends us these, and new a'enerations of Australian
birth recruit the number ; nor of money, for the
capital that is flowing in from England is being
added to that which we have created, and are from
day to day creating by the sweat of our brows.

' Look at our flourishing and prosperous towns,
so many centres of civihsation, inhabited by people
who are hard-working, peaceful, self-governing,
law-abiding, and free from the taint of pauperism
(you have not met a single beggar amongst us),
and from the other evils which infest your Euro-
pean cities. Granted that you find here peo])le in
debt ; that in our dailv transactions there are u])3
and downs ; that we also are experiencing the
stagnation of business which is weighing now upon
the world, and which is sim])ly the result of over-
production in Europe ; and that some of our
labourers are thrown on the streets of our towns.
These are facts which nobody could or would deny.
But they are clouds that will pass by, and, more-

( 1.

J I

!•

'/.

OD^

AUSTRALIA

[PAKT III.

over, we are less afTected than Europe by them.
The com])laiiits al.^out hind specuhation, and about
the connivance of some of our pohticians in certain
abuses, are not worth discussion. We are but
men, and do not pretend to bee :empt from human
infirmities.

' You need have no doubts about our loyaUy.
Chikb'en of Old England, we stick to our traditions
and tlie recollections of history, and, thongh we
]M'ofess the most advanced democratic theories,
and endeavour as far as possible to practise them,
the sight of a lord is gratifying to our eyes, and
that of Royalty puts us into ecstasies. We are
strongly attached to the old country, but we are
spoiled children, and our mother can refuse us
nothing. When she seems about to thwart us,
we get angry. She then ends by giving w^ay, and
on these terms we shall always be Avell-behaved
and affectionate children.

' On the whole, the state of things is sound and
the future brilliant. We have been tlie first to
put in practice the great principles of modern
philosophy. In this respect we have distanced
the United States, whose citizens practise equality
but only exercise political powder once in every four
years, and then merely to part with it immediately
to the master of their choice.

' We are the atheistic State par e.vcellence^ but

CHAP. IV.]

QUEENSLAND

351

and
t to
deru
meed
lality
four
ately

:', but

tliis atlieistic State is composed of Cliristian citi-
zens. The divorce between Cliurcli and State is
complete, and religious instruction is banished from
most of tlie schools sup})()rted by Government
grants. It is the only means of enabling families
of different religious denominations to live peace-
ably together. European States have begun to take
the same course. Several of them liave frecnl tliem-
selves from the supports of the old Christian society,
which is now but a thing of the past. They are
advancing in this new direction, some rapidly,
others with slow and uncertain steps, some agaiu
in spite of themselves, and not without betraying
a helpless inclination to stop, and even to retrace
their steps. Europe is nuirching on the track
of Australia, who has become the model of the
modern State.'

I postpone the examination of these views to
the end of my journey.

Wliat is the meaning of the word ' Australasia,'
so often used in our days by English geograpliers
and travellers ? Is it Australia (Uid Xew Zealand ?
Or are we, by a mental reservation very popular in
the colonies, to include also in this term some archi-
pelagoes of the Western Pacific, or, better still, the
whole Pacific, which, as the colonists are plea.-cd

I <

I I
« t

II I

i I

r i

■ • (

f I

II III

{■

AUSTRALIA

[part hi.

to tliink, is destined to beeome one day an Austra-
lian laivc ? Usaii'o, wliich alone ran decide tlie
matter, has not yet given its verdict ; ])ut it will
be allowable henceforth to say that, if tlie colo-
nists of Australia and Xew Zealand, sprung, as they
are, from a common stock, oflfer striking analogies,
tlie territories tliey occupy have no family likeness.
Tlic difference between Australia and New Zealand
is evident at a iilanc > Australia is a continent.
New Zealand an isl id — in reality two main
islands separated by a narrow channel, but form-
ing only one country. It is a territory which is
limited, explored, known, and in great part opened
up if not cultivated. Australia, whose coasts are
hardly touched by cultivatio md whose interior
is still shrouded in ol)scurity, strikes the imagina-
tion by the immensity of its seemingly boundless
extent — as boundless in appearance as the field it
oders to enterprise, speculation, solid activity, and
the risks and sports of chance.

In New Zealand, everything is done in the
light of day ; in Australia, behind a veil. The
New Zealand colonist knows that behind ihe
mountains lies the sea. The Australian clonist
knows that behind the Coast-ranee bcixin vast
tracts without limit and without water, and there-
fore inaccessible, unknown, and mysterious. Ac-
cording to the temper of his mind, he will rush

,lt

CHAP. IV.]

OUEI'NSLAND

353

either to tliese regions, witli all liis heart in the
work, delvrniined to snatcli lier treasures from
the bowels of tlie inliospitable eartli, or else, afraid
to lift the veil that hides these solitudes, he will not
care to venture tjiitlier, but will establish himself
on the sea-coast.

It is this contrast between New Zealand limited
and known and Australia unlimited and unknown,
tliat gives such a diflerent character to these two
colonies of the Antipodes. Tliis radical diifcrence
in tlie configuration of the soil reacts, as would
naturally be expected, on the temper of the colo-
nists. The New Zealanders know the reasonable
extent of their hopes, for they know their country.
The Australians, knowing little of their own, give
free play to tlieir imagination. The Governments,
especially those of South Australia and Queens-
land, vie with each other in tlieir efforts to open
up the interior to cultivation. Thoy are con-
stantly sending thither explorers, as indefotigable
as they are bold, wlio, braving tlie aborigines and
the drought, traverse, sometimes alone, the immensr-
deserts of the continent.*' Tlius the Australian is,

^ During one of my visits to Melbonrne, a native of that town,
who had sprung from the people, arrived there fion\ the Gulf of
Carpentaria, after a journey alone, for the mere love of adventure,
across tlie entire continent. This circumstance is not an isolated
one, and astonished nobody but myself. But it seems worthy of
note as showing the rashness characteristic of the Anglo-Austra-
lian race.

VOL. I. A A

It I

II >

ii I

II I

t !

I I.

tuM

:fl

I !

'/,

354

AUSTRALIA

[part 111.

in the honourable acceptation of tlie word, essen-
tially an adventurer.

It is not so Avitli the New Zealander. He tills
his fields or feeds his cattle upon them. He, too,
is a conqueror ; but the object of his conquest is
a known land. He takes things more quietly, is
more attached to the soil he treads, less extrava-
gant, more matter-of-fact, if you will, than tlie
Australian. In his two islands the pioneer has
served his time ; in Australia he still forms an in-
dispensable element of tlie growing nation.

No doubt, along with these points of contrast
some strono; points of likeness are observable, but
there are few interests in common. At Sydney,
Melbourne, and Brisbane, even the most fervent
advocates of confederation are forced to agree in this
admission, but whenever the subject is mooted at
Dunedin, Christchurch, or Auckland, people smile.
They are willing to admit, nay, they desire, a cus-
toms union or some such arrangement with the
Australian colonies, but they repudiate the notion
of a great Australian State governed by a general
Parliament. They are well aware that, in the event
of a conflict arising between the interests of New
Zealand and Australia, the representatives of the
two islands in the Parhament at Sydney would
constantly find themselves outvoted. ' No,' is the
conclusion of all their reasoninir, ' we don't want
to become a dependency of Australia.'

h ■- '

PAKT lYJ

« '

It I

4 '

!| I
I

IXDIA.

CHAPTER I.

JAVA, SINGAPORE, CEYLON.

December 14, 1883, to January 1(5, 1884.

In the Dutch seas-Batavia-MussiJman fanaticism-Bniten/or-
-Monopoly and forced labour - Regents and Residents -I
ljand)ur-Bandong-The volcano Tankuban-Prahu— Visit to
the Regent-New Year's eve-From Batavia to Singapore-^
Ihe Chinese element-Voyage to Colonibo-Kandy-Iilxcnrsion
among the mountains-The Cingalese-Kaffirs in" the island of
Ceylon— Departure for Madi-as.

The 'Dorimda' is steaming slowly against a
1 load wind. The thermometer is rising. "" Squalls
in quick succession envelop us in white steam,
like that from boiling water thrown into a grate'
We have been sailing for a week under tlie lentli
])arallel of south latitude. The sun, nearly vertical

> I have borrowed from Mr. W. W. Hunter's Imperial GarM-
teer and the Indian Empire of the same author, the few facts .if
history and geography which I have thought it necessary to insert
in my narrative.

A A 2

fit

Mli

l"^iiil

1 1 1
II rt

I '!,
I ■•)

I I

INDIA

[part IV.

ovcrliead, is sotting on firo tlic tliick, lieavy, damp
air that we brcatlie. At Thursday Island most of
the passengers left ns. We have now only the
young ' matron,' two young widows, a young aiifl
second-rate dandy, wlio is aspiring to the laurels
of a ' globe-trotter,' and tliree or four mutes, who
smoke or drink, each after his own fashion. The
captain, a good, gentle, grave, and melancholy man,
improves on acquaintance. We pass hours together
sometimes without exchanging a word. His whole
mind is in his duties, and when free he seems en-
grossed in sad thoughts. 'What are you thinking
about?' I asked him one day. 'My wife and
cliildren whom I left in London.' Poor man, he
has only fifteen days to spend with his family
between his voyages to the Antipodes, and from
Jjondon to Brisbane and back takes four months
and a week. lie is a self-made man, and his
merit alone has made him captain of this great
u^teamer.

His officers, cheery, jovial, well-mannerefl
young fellows, do their best to make themselves
useful to the passengers. Each of them reprc-
sent.s a different type of the British tar.

Tlie sailors — Lascars from the neifjhbourhood of
Calcutta — are frail, agile little creatur(?s, with small,
Av^ell-modelled hands and feet. They have the
walk and movements of a cat. If they tread upon

FtU I

CHAP. I.]

JAVA — SINGAPORE — CEYLON

357

IL'

your foot, you <are liardly aware of it ; if you knock
;itjaiust them, you seem to be runnin«^ a«iainst a
.stufl'ed doll. When ' Li(;hts out' is sounded, you
see them on the main deck, squatting close packed
in two lon<^ rows, tlieir hands restiiif^ on tlicir
knees and their knees dovetailed between those
of the man op})osite. They never cease chatteriuLS
and talk of notliing but rupees, annas, and women,
that is, marriage. They then stretch themselves
upon the deck, each where he was squatting while
the chatter lasted. They are fast asleep in a
moment, and the engine and elements keep up the
conversation. I never see the cook, who is also a
Lascar, pass from the larder to his kitchen without
feeling shiister forebodings. The fellow has some-
how the look of a Madame de Brinvilliers.

During the day a d(mble awning, two pieces of
canvas placed one above the other so as to allow
the air to circulate between them, protects the sliip
;ijiainst the fierce heat of the sun. The deck is
almost deserted. Shakespeare's 'Winter's Tale'
transports the old tourist inlo a world of fancy.
The warm wind of the vessel brings to him, with
the sounds of the piano in tlie ladies' cabin, broken
snatches from ' Lucrezia Jioru'ia,' the ' Son-
Jiambula,' the ' Barber of Seville.' You hear them

. IN

I; 1

111

ii <M

III

t'l

If I

M,,

Mil

;iih

1 1

I Ml, I
I I .^1

5 y-

tii

35»

INDIA

[part IV.

seldom nowadays, tliesc <,n\ind Tlalian iiiastors, l)iit
tlieir melodies, out of fashion, tliou^uh i'oi- ever
beautiful, make you youn<^ a.uain, and take you
back to days now lon^ gone by.

The outline of the great island of Timor, seen
suddenly behind a veil of gauze, of the colour of
gold dust, awakes me from these reveries. Ileie we
are safe and sound in the waters of the Dutch
Indies.

'Lights out!' has sounded, and the two lamps
on deck are extinguished. It would be pitch daik
under the awning but for the stars which are re-
ilected in the sea, the glitter of the phosphorescent
light thrown oil" from the sides of the vessel, and
the streak of silver light in our wake. And now
(H)mes the terrible moment for descending into
the inferno of my cabin. And to think that we
have been going on like this since December 14 !

To port and starboard curtains of white and
gold, and on these curtains soft green spots of
fantastic, strange, and fairylike forms, a])proach
and recede from the ' Dorunda ' in turn. Farther
on we are steaming close by some islets which un-
fold all the exuberant wealth of tropical vegetation.

•ti

CHAP, r.] JAVA — SlNGArORE — CEVI.ON 359

The sea lia.s ceased to lie a desert. The conical
white sails of numbers of coaMtin*?-l)oats stand out
a^^ainst the foliage of the shores. We see, too, a
steamer with a Dutch ihius sent to tliesc parts to
Lay a telegrapliic cable.

Durinrr tlie niixlit our ship has passed throun-li
the Straits of Bah and has entered tlie Java Sea.
The ^dant volcano we see before us, tlie cone of
which seems to touch the sky, belongs to the lar<je
island of this name. Here the sea from one
extremity of the horizon to the other is streaked
with white hues ; these are pumice-stones, the
traces of the catastrophe wdiich last August (I880)
ravaged the Sound.

At Icntxth, on December 23, on a perfect morn-
ing, ourst* amer moors in a large bay enlivened by
clusters of big ships at anchor and by other vessels
coming and going. The \o\v shores resemble a
green ribbon, above which two colossal but extinct
volcanoes, Mount Salak and Mount Gede, loom
blue in the distance.'^ We have reached Bataviu,
3,G80 miles from Brisbane.

: P^i

1 1

>l •!

Batavia is such a town as ymi only meet with
in fairy tales. Even if your pen or pencil could
^ 8,100 and 13,000 feet respectively above the sea.

IMAGE EVALUATION
TEST TARGET (MT-3)

^<^

{./

^.^.

■'fe^

1.0

1.1

|50 ^^ W^M

^ Ui2 |2.2

■IS ,

lU I

2.0

Lil III U lllll 16

Photographic

Sciences
Corporation

23 WEST MAIN STREET

WEBSTER, NY. 14580

(716) 873-4503

•^

'■t"-^ ^^*
^

36o

INDIA

[part IV.

depict it faithfully, no one would believe you. In
the lower part stand the counting-houses. There
business is brisk and fever is prevalent. The
<:eneral character of the place is that of an old
Dutch town. The management of the river is left
to the crocodiles which swarm in it. The ground
rises gently towards the interior, and we find
ourselves m a suburb inhabited exclusively by
Chinese : we could fancy ourselves at Canton.
Then comes a forest of cocoa-nut trees, banyans,
gigantic cactuses, and immense bananas. Other
trees, some covered with purple flowers, blend
with and harmonise the varied green tints of their
velvety, prickly, or indented foliage. But where
is the town ? We are actually in it. In fact,
through this thick forest whid broad and narrow
roads, and these are the streets. As to the houses,
you scarcely notice them, as they are hidden
among the trees, surrounded by gardens and
wrapped in shade. They are all ahke. A large
verandah protects the front of the house, whicli
consists merely of a ground-floor ; there is seldom
an upper story. At each of the two front
angles a ' pavilion ' juts out into the garden,
Avliich is usually a simple plot with flower-beds,
surrounded by a balustrade and ornamented witli
statuettes and vases. You are reminded of Haar-
lem, or rather of Japan, whence the old Dutch

CSAP. 1.]"

JAVA — SINGAPORE — CEYLON

t.Sl

seem to have acquired the taste for small stone
pedestals and porcelain pots.

Two causes contribute to tlie strange, almost
magical efl'ect of Batavia : the trees, wliose magnifi-
cence surpasses anything I have seen in tlie tropics,
and the men who walk under the shade of these
trees. I am not speaking of the Dutch, who, more-
over, never go about except in their carriages or on
horseback, but of the crowd of natives. Your eye
is attracted by the brilliancy of their dress and
charmed by the harmony of its colours. The red,
pink, and white, which predominate, blend admi-
rably with tlie foliage and its infinite shades of

green.

I I

! I •
I .
•I

I am enjoying the simple, tasteful, and refined
hospitality of Mr. P. Pels, the head of one of the
great mercantile firms of Batavia, and the Austrian
Consul. His liouse is a good specimen of the
Indo-Dutch residences. Everything is contrived to
counteract tlie infiuences of an unhealthy climate.
The air is cooled before being let into the house ;
it is renewed and made to circulate freely, and cur-
rents are established, giving the illusion of fresh-
ness. Arrangements such as these succeed in pro-
ducing agreeable sensations, but they do not suf-
fice to render this fiery atmosphere uniiijurious.

t !

I ■ i

!':

1 ,

;62

INDIA

[part ir

Tlie proof of this is the extreme pallor of nearly
all the whites ; everybody appears aQlicted with
anaemia.

It is Sunday. The sun is close to the
liorizon. The fashionable world is assembled in
the large square, at this hour entirely filled with
smart carriages. The women, with flowers in their
hair, are remarkable for the simplicity and ele-
gance of their attire ; the men, including officers, for
the absence of hats, which they have left at home.
Indeed, under this sky after sunset, a covering for
the head would be merely an incumbrance. A
military band is playing ; you alight and go up to
the carringes and talk with the ladies as if you
were on the Pincio or the Lung' Arno. But the
whole scene is exotic.

In the Museum, which contains a rich collec-
tion of Indian objects from Java, Sumatra, and
Borneo, you find India as she was before the inva-
sion of Islamism.^ But what Islamism ? and why
did it there take such prompt hold of the rajahs,
and consequently of the people, on whom, else-
where, it seems to have made hardly a skin-deep
iiii])ression ? I am told that the masses are worked

^ In the fifteenth century.

CHAP. I.]

JAVA — SINGAPORE — CEYLON

;63

on in the most unworthy manner l)y the hmljis^ or
pilgrims of Mecca, who are a regular scourge to
the country.

In the matter of religion, the Dutch Govern-
ment, which exercises in these colonies an absolute
and paternal authority, treats with equal kindness
or indiflerence all confessions, whether Christian or
others. Certain traditional practices are, how-
ever, adhered to ; thus, the missionaries, thougli
free to convert, if thev can, the Chinese and
Hindoos, never venture to proselytise among the
Mahometan natives. The reason given for this
prohibition is the consideration due to the Arab
element, composed of rich merchants and large
landed proprietors, who came originally from
Muscat and Iladramaut, and have settled here from
father to son. These are said to be very fanatical,
and to enjoy great prestige among the Malay and
Mussulman populations.

\ »

1 1

1 1.

;ti

I ' '

E.vcursion to BviteDzorrj^ ' jaiidjur, Bandoih]^
and the volcano of Tanhiban Pralui. From De-
cember 24 to 31. — I leave at sunrise by the railway.
The country is beautiful beyond description ;
clusters of trees, ju'edominanl among them the
cocoa-nut tree, the banana, and the bamboo, whicli
here attains colossal dimensions, alternate with

^f^^^

INDIA

[part IV.

rice-fields, tlie young plants of wliicli are reflected
in the water of the trenches. Tliese fields, laid out
in terraces of brilliant green, slope up gradually
towards tlie mountains we are approaching. Tlie
whole population, men and women, work here to-
gether alongside of the buffaloes which are led by
the children. The villages, wrapped in shade and
foliage, seem to hide themselves coyly from our
view. In the background of the picture, the cone-
shaped tops of Mount Gede on one hand and
Mount Salak on the otlier, saffron-grey at the
base and opal blue aloft, stand out against a silver
sky.

Buitenzorg, as Petropolis to Rio de Janeiro, as
Cintra to Lisbon, as Simla to India, is the usual
residence of the Governor-General and the resort of
the leading officials and merchants. If the Bata-
vian sam-.souci does not preserve you from the
cares of official life and business, it certainly protects
you from fever, which, I am told, never penetrates
liither. The surrounding neighbourhood resembles
tlie most beautiful parts of Ceylon on a large scale.

The Governor-General's palace, a large building
in the style of the beginning of this century, presents
a very fine appearance, but I prefer the park with
its venerable trees. A colossal elephant is moving
about it with a melancholy air, and some deer or
roebucks scarcely stir as our carriage passes by.

CHAP. I.]

JAVA — SINGAPORE — CEYLON

365

There is notliing so poetical as tlie first liours
of night. The darkness is not yet complete, black
veils surround us, but shades of black vary with
the distances. The eye mounts up, stage by stage,
till it reaches the summit of Mount Salak.
Behind this giant are the bright orange colours of
the sky, and overhead the heavy clouds, deep black
and fringed with yellow.

We are in the midst of the Christmas holidays,
and the Hotel de Bellevue is full of visitors. Men
and women, all belonging to the upper ranks of
society in Batavia, appear at breakfast and lunch in
costumes adapted to the cHmate. The ladies wear
a short camisole which takes the place of a bodice
and falls over a cotton petticoat of various colours,
called a sarowf. The men have simply kept on tlie
pyjamas they wear at night, consisting of a white
jacket and loose coloured trousers. All have bare
feet, with only slippers upon them. This free-and-
easy dress, which suits young and pretty women very
well, but is less becoming in ladies of a certain agii
and corpulence, sur[)rised me at first and well-nigh
astounded me. But the eye soon grows accustomed
to it. 1 hasten to add that tlie vounoj unmarried
women always appear in f 11 dress.

I i

• I'

I' I

' I 1'.

1 1

I ', i

I '!.

1 ';!•;

366

INDIA

[part IV.

I liave made some agreeable acquaintances,
and all show the greatest readiness to answer my
inquiries. ' Dutch rule in the Indies,' they tell me,
' is founded on monopoly and forced labour. This
is contrary to modern ideas, but the system suits
governors and governed. Take, for example, the
coffee monopoly. In some places the Government
cultivate it at their own expense, in others the
townships are bound to plant it and to sell the pro-
duce to the Government at a fixed price of fourteen
florins the pickel, which is sold again by the ad-
ministrator on the Government's account at the rate
of thirty-five or forty florins. No one is entitled to
keep for his own consumption a stock of more than
tliree kilogrammes, or about CJ lbs. The conse-
quence of this is that sometimes, when the supply
of coffee of the finest quality stored in the State
warehouses is exhausted, coffee has to be sent for
from Holland. This is not pleasant, but, as the
advantages of the system outweigh the inconve-
niences, nobody finds fault with it.'

' The Government,' said one of my new friends
to me, ' make use of the former princes, more or
less sovereigns in the old days, to keep in check
and govern the native populations, who are still
attached to their old masters, and take care to

CHAP. 1.]

JAVA — SINGAPORE — CEYLON

2>^7

secure tlie fidelity of these " Sultans," trausftji-nied
into Dutch officials, by means of high salaries. The
ex-Sultan now rejjfent of a district represents the
Government in the eves of the natives ; he has
the charge of the local police, and is to some
extent a judge. But \\\{i xiunma reruni rests in the
hands of the Resident, or Dutch agent for each
district, who is, so to speak, the eye and the arm
of the Governor-General. He abstains, however,
unless absolutely compelled, from trenching on the
regent's prerogative.

' The Javanese, gentle and tractable by nature,
feel a passive sympathy with Dutch rule. The
same cannot be said of the population of Sumatra
and other parts of the Indo-Netherland Empire.
Here in Java the people are contented. A little rice
daily, and as little work as possible throughout the
year, make up their ideal of supreme happiness in
this world. They were less happy under their
princes, who crushed them with taxes.

' The natives, whatever their social position, are
obfiged to wear the silk handkerchief of the coun-
try round their heads and the saromj round their
waist ; they are strictly forbidden to wear boots
or shoes like Europeans. The whites, in speaking
to the natives, even to those who understand Dutch,
always make use of the Malay language, and the
natives would never venture to address a white in

t 'ji

368

INDIA

[part ir.

uiiy Euro))oan tonjiuc wliatevor. Tlie strictness of
Asiatic etiquette wliicli still ])rovails in the interior
has been soniewliat relaxed of late years in JJatavia ;
but the maintenance of pi'estiL'e, and the reco«,niition
by the native of the superiority of the white race,
form, to<rether with mono])oly and forced labour,
the fundamental principles of our government. It
is the old system of colonial rule, the efficiency of
which has been ])roved. Now for nearly three
centuries a handful of Dutch have been jjfovernintr
millicms of Asiatics. In IJritish India these cus-
toms were abandoned fifty years ago, and an epoch
of humanitarianism inaugurated instead. Will
this new system stand the test of experience ?'

Those wlio were present during this conversa-
tion, all Dutchmen, unanimously agreed with my
friend, but not without expressing their fear of
seeing the spirit of innovation invade the Indo-
Dutch Empire.

Tjandjur, a thoroughly Indian town, is the
residence of a regent, and consequently that of his
guardian angel, the Eesident. A most exalted per-
sonage resides here. as a State prisoner, the deposed
Sultan of Borneo. He inhabits a palace composed
of several small houses. The entrance is guarded
by a colossal puppet with the head of a fish which

CHAP. I.]

JAVA — SINGAPORE — CEYLON

3t>9

acts the part of a Genius, to drive away evil spirits.
It was ni<;lit, and we could hear the illustrious State
prisoner euL^a^'ed in eveninjr prayer with his atten-
dants in tlie little mosque belonj^nnj;^ to the palace.
' Ille Mallah ! Ille Mallah ! ' and a.i;ain ' lUe Mallah ! '
And we heard, too, the banana-trees accompany the
chorus of tlie faithful with the rustling of their fans,
and saw the Genius, like a faithful guardian, moving
his fish's head with the evening breeze.

What a night it is ! — how dark, how warm, how
delicious ! Seated in the verandah of our stnall
hotel, which is kept by a retired Austrian ofRcer,
we look on at an open-air performance of mario-
nettes. They are tlie gods and goddesses of the
Hindoo Olympus. The ])uppet-shows of the Cliamps-
Elysees at Paris or oi our Prater at Vienna are
nothing compared with this strange spectacle of
desperate combats between gods not yet completely
shorn of their glory in the midst of a peo])le who
have become Maliometans.

A short way off, a naiitch-girl was going
through her steps with two youths, whose grotesque
leaps, resembling at times tlie bounds of a pantlier,
formed a striking contrast to her modest attitudes
and movements. She advanced and retired by
turns, always screening her face with the sleeve of
her tunic, and accompanying herself from time to
time with a monotonous and melancholy chant.

VOL. I. B B

1 1

1 1 1'
1 1 ■

II;
1 1

1
;!

fSi

■,2

■ .

;

f '

^flf

370

INDIA

[part IV.

I found in tliis small liotel sonic Bohemian
ncw!sj){ipcrs, and on the walls of the dinin^'-room
the portraits of Marshal Itadetzky and (Jeneral
Ilaynau, together with reminiscences of those
warlike days, so rich in memories both sad and
glorious, but more glorious than sad, and already
su far removed from ours.

The journey from Tjandjur to ]5andong, accom-
plished partly by railway, on aline not yet ojjcn to
public traffic, and partly by post -cart, takes us
through an extremely picturesque country. The
road, which has been laid by skilful engineers
and admirably constructed by native forced
labourers, winds up over the top of the lofty moun-
tain of Missigit. This district is infested by tigers,
leopards, and panthers. Wild biifl'aloes and boars
are there also, and at certain spots you run a risk
of meeting rhinoceroses. But chance spared us
these excitements. We saw only two respectably
sized boars, who scampered at full speed across our
road. A few years ago the people in the kain-
pongs, or villages, in the environs would never
venture out at night, except in large bands, and
with arms and torches. The arrival of the railway
labourers has driven a good many of these ugly
customers away. The numerous watercourses

CHAP. I.]

JAVA — SIN(;Ari)RK — CKVLON

371

swarm with crocodiles, wliicli lici-cciijoy the privi-
Ic^'o of boil i<^' hold sacred, and run no ri.sk of bein;j;
interfered witli until thev hiive devoured a fair
number of the villajiers and their cattle. Even
then the intervention of the local priest is necessary
before they can be destroyed. Arrayed in his while
robes, the holy man takes his seat on the river-bank,
intones a hymn, and inspects the monster when it
appears, in order to see if it is really the culprit.
No one dares to kill a crocodile without his consent.
The tiji'ers, who have not this halo of sanctity, owe
their prestige to the fear with which they ii»spire
the villagers, who never dream of hunting them
till serious de[)redati(»ns have been committed in
the village.

The '])als''* are marked along the road, which
is bordered with quickset hedges, continued even
through the villages. You seem to be in a park.
The landscape retains its varied, strange, and fan-
tastic but always smiling character. Small conical
hillocks and limestone or volcanic rocks, each with
thickets topped by a dome of foliage or a clump of
colossal bamboos, stand out in sharp relief against
the sky, which is opal blue in the morning, over-
cast with dark heavy clouds in the afternoon, and
golden at sunset.

At the end of each stage, or every five pals,

* About 1,320 English yards in length.

fi D 2

1 1
I I

I i!

I I

,<•

■ii

}

3""',

INDIA

[part IV.

is a posting-station ; a large slied roofed with
thick tiles is built across the road. Here the
traveller who is duly furnished witli a Govern-
ment pass changes horses under slielter from the
sun and tlie deluging rains of the monsoon. Here,
too (in tJie coffee districts), stand the Government
storeliouses for the reception of the coffee grown
by the people.

No otlier country, except China or Japan, can
give any idea of the animation prevailing in tliese
villages and alonji the entire road. Coolies singly
or in gangs, with the sarong^ a kind of short
petticoat folded round the loins, and worn over
their short drawers, but naked above the waist,
and v/itli huge liats like a shield or the lid of
a vase, are striding along in file, carrying enormous
weights hung at each end of long bamboo rods,
bent like a crescent. Others are laden with im-
mense canes, intended for building their huts.
There are many women about ; they wear tlie
sarong also, either red, blue, or white, but gene-
rally crimson. The brilliant colours harmonise
admirably with the bronze hue of tlieir half-naked
bodies and with the infinite shades of green
spread by a prodigal nature. Young mothers,
while working in the rice-fields, suckle their
babies perched astride on one of their hips, and,
like the Japanese, hide tlieir breasts with tlie

CQAP. I.]

JAVA — SINGAPORE — CEYLON

373

sleeves of their gown if tliey meet a European.
Amidst the crowd that keeps perpetually passing
we see some 'gentlemen,' attired with more care
and in less ofTliand fashion. They are probably
nobles, perhaps the sons of some ex-Sultan con-
verted into a Regent. As these grandees keep in
their harems a host of female slaves, in addition
to their five legitimate wives, who are entitled
to pensions from the Government, the number of
their children is legion.

The houses, all built of bamboo, with steep-
pitched, high, and heavy roofs, are more or less
hidden among the foliage, and so we have passed
through more than one village without seeing it.
Along the road are numerous sheds for the sale of
provisions. The people salute the whites with a
nimble readiness of deference acquired by habit.
At your approach, the men on each side face
about with their backs to you, and then kneel
down and touch the ground with their foreheads.
Poor fellows ! In order to be polite they show them-
selves in the most unfavourable attitude. I wisli
I knew how to keep my countenance while passing
through this double row of upturned caryatides !

Bandong, where we arrived at noon, is tlie
capital of the province of Preaiiger, and stands on

1 1>

1 (i;

1 ■

1 *t

|i 1 !

i
^ )

1 !':

INDIA

[pAPT ly.

a plateau ^ surrounded by lofty mountains. In the
excellent hotel, which is kept by a Dutchman, we
found a large party — high officials, Government
servants, and wealtliy planters, but no Malays.
The latter are not admitted into hotels frequented by
Europeans, but the Chinese, if their purses are
well stocked, are allowed to associate wnth the
whites.

It is the monsoon or rainy season, the healthiest
time of year in the Dutcli Indies. Tlie mornings are
brilliant, but at noon the sky begins to be overcast,
and at about three o'clock the rain, accompanied
by lightning and fearful peals of thunder, comes
down in torrents, and never ceases till nearly
sunset. Visitino- tune is between six and eioht
o'clock, after which everyone goes to dinner. In the
' society,' that is, at the club, the burning question
now discussed is the future of the cinchona. The
production of quinine is the rage of the day here,
in Ceylon, and in some of tlie islands of the Pacific,
and cinchona culture is universal. Coffee-plant-
ing does not pay, the price of sugar has fallen low,
aud over-production in Europe has made business
stagnant throughout the world. Everybody, there-
fore, is for cinchona and intermittent fevers.

* 800 feet high. The neighbouring mountains are from 6,000
10 8,0Q0 feet above the level of the sea.

CHAP. I.] JAVA — SINGAPORE — CEYLON

375

A.sccnt of Tdnhihan Prahu, December 28. — I
have spent a clay which I shall never forget. We
had to climb a volcano in active eruption, 7,000
feet in heiglit, and situated twenty * pals,' or more
tlian fifteen miles, north of the town. The country
is like tliat we have been passing through for the
last few days, but tlie lofty mountains near us give
it an Alpine character. The higher we ascend
the more silent it becomes. We have left behind
us the ra,'<t/iaii.s (rest-house), near a rustic hamlet,
called Lembang. Before us rises the volcano, with
its cone shaped like a boat (praha) turned upside
down : whence the name it bears. The crater is
invisible. The path is in many places very steep,
penetrates a virgin forest, and crosses some clearings
•made by the planters, who have felled a number
of trees in order to replace them with the cinchona
Higher up we re-enter, nor do we again quit it,
another portion of the forest, which is as yet
untouched by the axe. At certain spots the road,
only two or three feet wide, follows the wind-
ings of a steep ridge between two gaping abysses.
Looking downwards one sees nothing but the
tops of trees. All around are lofty mountains,
except on the side facing the town, which is still
visible, though dwarfed by the distance. The
plateau of Bandong looks like a carpet of green and
black — the green being the n<^v;-rields, the black the

, )

1 '

{ 1;

/!■ ;

111

Z7^

INDIA

[part IV.

villages buried among the groves. The giant trees
which clothe the mountain to its summit seem to
me of endless varieties. Deep silence reigns in the
air, in the forest, and in the abysses beneath us. Not
a bird is singing ; I am told there are scarcely any in
Java. Gradually the smell of sulphur takes the
place of tlie delicious scents exhaled from the
resinous timber. We liave reached the edge of tlie
crater. The lava disputes the ground with the
vegetation, but the latter carries the day, by con-
cealing the furnace beneath you from the view.
We had begun to descend thither by an execrable
2)ath, when the heavens, which for the last hour
had been slightly overcast, suddenly opened their
flood-gates ; and, much to my regret, I was com-
pelled to beat a retreat. But in this climate you
cannot get wet with impunity, and the conse-
quence is fever. I seemed to be standing under a
pump, and fervently prayed that my waterproof
might deserve its name. However, the sky took pity
on us. Contrary to its wont, the sun suddenly re-
appeared and cleared the atmosphere again. But
what a descent ! — by footpaths now changed into
torrents, where the horses stumble at every step !
My young companions dismount and walk, but I
dare not trust my strength enough to follow their
example. My pony scrambles along the precipice,
loses lis balance, and rolls right over fortunately

CHAP. I.]

JAVA — SINGAPORE CEYLON

not into tlie abyss but into a kind of trench. By
the laws of gravitation I slip from the saddle on to
the animal's neck, and thence on to the shoulders
of my little Indian, who is completely upset by
the shock, and makes a vain attempt to get on his
tiny legs again. Luckily a tuft of bamboos ofTers
me a timely aid. I clutch at it, and gripping the
guide's head between my knees, without touching
the ground myself, succeed in pulhng him up.
had merely changed my mount. At length, at
nightfall, famished and worn out by fatigue, but
charmed with our excursion, we got back to the
hotel, to find there a good dinner and comfortable
quarters.

Bandong is a garden, a park, and a wood. The
streets are avenues bordered with quickset hedges
and shaded by gigantic trees. Do not ask me the
names of the various kinds. Bananas, cocoa-nut
trees, and other palms predominate ; but the
bamboo is the most conspicuous. The houses are
scarcely perceptible, but here and there tlie folds
of the green curtain that hides the town are parted
sufficiently to give a glimpse of the neighbouring
high mountains.

In the evening some nautch-girls are brought in
to dance in the courtyard of the hotel. The rain
has fallen heavily during the afternoon, and a white

M I

INDIA

[part TV.

mist rises from tlic sodden ground. The atmo-
s[)here is that of a furnace. The dancing, the music
and singing, all tend to produce a feeling of melan-
choly.

I paid a visit to the Regent, popularly known
as the Sultan. Toe-Mengonij-Koissema-Delafja, still
a young man, is very polite, but only speaks Malay.
With the inevitable silk handkerchief on his head,
and dressed after the fashion of the country, he
exercises his privilege as Regent to wear boots and
stockings. Beside him is his ' chief ' wife, who, the
Regent tells me, is a princess and bears the title of
one. Though neither young nor pretty, she has an
attractive manner. Her husband himself showed
me the Kraton or ' King's residence,' consisting of
two houses furnished in European style; one of
which contains the reception-rooms, while the other
is used as a dwellinf]^. The Recrent's musicians were
squatting in the garden, and while they played, a
man and woman were making some marionettes,
gods and goddesses of the Hindoo Olympus, fight
mimic battles. I am told that even the upper
classes are very fond of these performances, which
serve vaguely to remind them of their native my-
thology, and with it of the independence of bygone
times.

This Kraton has somehow^ an air of nobility

CHAP. I.]

JAVA — si::c;ai>ore — ceylon

379

about, it. I wonder wliy tliis is so. There is
nothing special in its Indo-European architecture ;
the ijardens are badly kept ; dead leaves and rank
weeds overrun the paths, and hide the large piece
of water in the middle. Even the magnificent
avenue leading to the street has an air of neglect.
And yet tlie whole appeals to tlie imagination.

From the ilight of steps before the palace you
see, through an opening in a belt of trees, and
across a glade beyond, one of the windows of the
Resident's house. That opening enables this grand
personage, while comfortably seated in iiis cane
armchair and smoking his chibouque^ to keep an
eye upon his colleague tlie Regent.

§1

fight

We are back again in Batavia. It is New
Year's Eve, and in a few more hours the old year
will have passed away. The night is dark and
warm. Through the windows of the Dutch houses,
which are all wide open, we can see without hin-
drance into the rooms. Men and women, dressed
this evening with particular care, are lounging in
their armchairs, and talking, smoking, and drinking
tea. One might be in Holland itself Outside, in
the forest, which is, in fact, the town, all is pitch
darkness, though lit up every now and then by the
rockets which the natives are amusing themselves

fiii

'■ '

INDIA

[part IV.

f W.

by letting off. It is their way of greeting tlie new
year.

Java was not originally on the programme of
my tour. I owe to the accident of there being no
vessel bound for India tlie good luck of passing
a week in this island. I could not have spent it
more pleasantly ; but I arrived here unprepared
for the visit, and even had I been prepared, eight
days would not have sufficed for more than a super-
ficial study of the place. It was like a ghmpse,
caught in passing through a gallery, of a picture
tliat arrests your attention. You cannot stop, but
as you pass away the bright vision takes hold of
you, follows you, haunts you, and remains.

An old and rickety little steamer of the Messa-
geries Maritimes, which does nothing but ply be-
tween the capital of the Dutch Indies and Singapore,
takes me on January 3 from Batavia. My heart is
Austrian, but my palate and stomach are French.
Such, at least, was my reflection after my first meal
on board the ' Emirne,' which is more remarkable
for her cooking than for her speed or the power of
her engines.

We glide gently and slowly between the coast
of the large island of Sumatra, which here is all

CHAP. I.T

JAVA — SINGAPORE — CEVLON

381

flat and covered witli forests or brusliwood, and
the higher and partly cultivated shore of Banca
Island, whose tin mines, worked by the Govern-
ment, are a lucrative source of revenue to the
Dutch treasury.^ On the afternoon of the 5th the
*Emirne' comes alongside of the quay of Singa-
pore, the capital of the Straits Settlements, 550
miles from Batavia.

coast
is all

Singapore, fro)n Janiiary 5 to 7. — What changes
since my first visit in December, 1871 ! Tlie spa(;e
which I then crossed upon the narrow dike, about
two miles in length, which served as a road between
the port and the town, was then an unhealthy
swamp, but is now covered with a new quarter
almost exclusively inhabited by people of the yellow
race. Singapore has become a Chinese town. With
the exception of the esplanade with its Courts of
Justice, some other public buildings, the Governor's
palace on a hill, the residences of some European
merchants, the churches, and the hotels kept by
Germans or Swiss, there is nothing to be seen but
long rows of houses, each with a couple of window^s
and an upper story whicli, resting on pillars, pro-
jects into the street and forms an arcade. The

' I am assured that, next to Java, this little island of Banca
is, comparativelj' speaking, the most profitable of all the Dutch
possessions in the Indies.

. i

5 . ;

382

INDIA

[part IV.

■ I

ground-floors consist of open sliops. These houses
belong to the Chinese. Tlie hotel where I am
staying occupies a corner of the esplanade, the
centre of the fashionable part of Singa])ore. ]kit
at this corner Europe ends and the celest'ud
Empire begins. From my verandah I see nothing
but Chinese sho})s, with their signboards hanging
out over the street : ' Chong Fee and Gee Chong,
tailors ;' 'Loon Cliong, tailor ;' 'Puck Quay, tailor;'
'Nam Seng, tailor ;' then the jeweller's stall kept by
a Portuguese Jew, and tlien again the Chongs and
Pucks and Sengs, as far as the eye can reach. In
the streets the human stream flows on from morn
till eve. Everyone seems to be busy. Walking
briskly along, with head bent forward, and long,
swinging arms lost in longer sleeves, and giving to
their pigtails a pendulum-like motion, care on
their brow and a sceptical sneer upon their lips,
they pass by in unbroken succession — the Chinese
gentleman, the rich Chinese merchant, the Chinese
shopkeeper, the artisan and the coolie ; the first
very well dressed, the others tolerably so, the
coolies, save for the waist-cloth, quite naked.
There are comparatively few won;- en to be seen,
and those only of the lowest class, but plenty of
children. The Chinese not long ago borrowed tlie
Jin-ri-ki-sha, or 'Man-force-car,' from the Japanese,
and you meet with it at every step. This, as is

CHAP. 1.]

JAVA — SINGAPORE — CEYLON

383

well known, is a kind of two-wlicelcd penunlnilator,
protected by a liood, and drawn hy a coolie at a
brisk trot. Anyone who wishes to make money
has only to send to Japan for two or tliree hnndred
of these ' man-vehicles,' and let out a certain
number of them to contractors, and in a few years
he will be rich. No doubt this (loin<f the duty of
horses is severe work for the coolie. The most ro-
bust constitution succumbs in less than three years ;
the poor feUow dies of consumption. But no matter,
the vehicle remains, and the man-horse is easily
replaced ; there are so many Chinese at Singapore!
What would the Society for the Prevention of
Cruelty to Animals say of tliis in England, where,
if I am not mistaken, the law forbids harnessinir
docs to carts and barrows ?

Next to the Chinese, in point of numl)ers, come
the native Malays — good, gentle, docile, honest
fellows, but irritable, and terrible in their fits
' running amuck,' during which they are trans-
formed into maniacs, and kill whatever crosses their
path. As coachmen they are highly thought of. I
have seen wealthy Cliinese luxuriating in theii*
handsome English carriages, driven by Malays.
The fact is significant.

You meet also big coal-black fellows, power-
fully built, and almost entirely naked. These are
Glings, from the coast of Coromandel.

■l!^

384

INDIA

[part IV.

The white man does not appear in publir ; to
find liini, yoii must ^'o to liis oflicL', liis countin^^-
liouso, or liis cliih. All tlie ICiiropcan.s speak Malay,
which is the ])revailin<; lan^riia<jfe. Walking alone
about the streets, I found it impossible to ask
my way, for I met none but Chinese, Malays, and
Glings. Nearly all the Europeans belong to the
upper or middle (dasses, and consist of civilians,
military men, or merchants. Among the latter, the
Germans and the Swiss take the lead. With the
exception of some English grooms, you find no
members of the lower classes, and since these have
come out, the Government always finds means to
send them back, even at the cost of paying for
their passage. * This precaution,' I am told, ' is
explained by the necessity of maintaining the white
man's prestige.' It is indispensable to do so in a
town where a few hundreds of Europeans are lost
in a crowd of eighty thousand Chinese and forty
thousand men of colour. However, there is
no law here forbidding Asiatics to dress like
Europeans.

The Chinese labourers work splendidly under
contract — that is to say, when they get their share
of the proceeds ; but they are downright idlers
when paid by the day. Attempts are being made
to organise a wholesale immigration of Lascars and
other Hindoos, but those who know the superiority

CHAP. I.]

JAVA — SINGAPORE — CEVLON

385

of tlie Cliiucsc lire not sanguine as to the success of
this enterprise.

under
share
idlers
made
Urs and

riority

This evening a performance by a German con-
jurer lias (h'awn tojjretlier in the hall of the Court-
house the /'titt^ of the Kuroj)oan society. The men
are all dressed in white jackets and trousers ; the
ladies, also in white, are remarkable for their languid
air, and men and women alike for the paleness of
their features. Ana^nia, that curse of tropical coun-
tries, is depicted on every face. Singapore, until
lately a byword on account of its pestilential climate,
has, thanks to the drainage of the swamp, become
a populous place, and now enjoys the reputatit)ii
of being the most healthy town in the far East.

The morning is delicious, almost fresh — at least
comparatively so. I roam about the streets. Two
Chinese houses, facing each other, strike me by the
elaborate carvings on the doorway. I could fancy
myself in Canton. How can I resist the temptation
to peep inside ? So I enter boldly through one of
these imposing-looking doors into a little court-
yard in front of the main building. A flock of
servants rushes at the intruder to stop the way.
But I gather wisdom from mv recollections of
China, and rely on the prestige of my white skin.

VOL. I. c c

\\' I

386

INDIA

PART IV.

My passage is cleared by a gesture of tlie liand.
ileaching a fine hall, I find the master of the house
in the hands of his barber, who is shaving his head,
but scrupulously avoiding the lock of hair at the
back of the skull, to which his pigtail is to be
fastened. Friends are standing in respectful atti-
tudes around this grandee. All eye me from head
to foot with apparent displeasure, but in silence.
Luckily the great man knows a little English. I
explain to him my wish to see his house, which, I
tell him, seems to me a gem, comparable to the
finest dwellings I have seen in Canton. His features
relax, and he commissions some gentlemen to show
me all the building, except, of course, the apart-
ments of his wives. It is just like the residence
of a rich native of Canton : little courts, little
summer-houses, and little corridors covered with
embroidered hangings, all of them crammed to
overflowing with those thousand little gewgaws
that charm the eye of the celestial. Birds of
various kinds, in queer-looking cages, fill the rooms
with their shrill or hoarse cries, but not one of
them is singing. I learned afterwards that my
friend and his neighbour opposite are rich pepper
merchants.

The Governor, Sir Frederick Weld, being a^v ay.
Mr. Irving, the Colonial Secretary, kindly did for

! 1

CHAP. I.] JAVA — SINGAPORE— CEVLON 387

me tlie lionoiirs of tlie town, wliicli has been lii.s
official residence for nearly a quarter of a century.
No one could have been kinder. Tlie Austrian
consul, Mr. Jirandt, togetlier witli some merchants,
help to make my visit a^jreeable. EveryonJ
speaks of the steady and continuous growth of tlie
Chinese element.

The big peninsula is an almost uninhabited
territory. It consists, not including tlie Enghsh
possessions, of states administratively independent,
but more or less under the influence and super-
vision of English Eesidents. In Perak, tlianks to
the wliolesale immigration of Cliinese, cultivation is
rapidly spreading. The official number of Chinese
who landed at Singapore in 1882 was 100,000." In

' The population of the town and small districts of Singapore is
made up as follows : — ° ^

Europeans (about 300) and half-bloods . . . 1,288

Chinese * ep'o/r

nr 1 86,245

^^^^^y^ 22,114

Tamds and Ghngs from the coast of Coromandel 10,475

Javanese ..... fi'se-

Eurasians (Christian half-bloods) ...".' 3.091

Bornese ... om

Bengalees , -rn

Arabs „

Dyaks (savages of Borneo) 43

Burmese ..... ' nt

Armenians ... on

- • • • . . oil

Jews j^^

C c 2

l?l;

i-lif

i; i

5 i»

t J

IH ,

388

INDIA

[part IV.

I880 the number rose to 1-30,000, and this year
(1884), to judjTe from all signs, it will reach a total
of 200,000. Some of these Celestials settle at Siii-
^rapore, l^ut tlie majority overrun Jie peninsula,
whicli they are rapidly transforming into a Chinese
country.

Tlie ' Yanf? Tse,' one of tlie fine larjxe steamers
of tlie Messageries Maritimes, combines every imagi-
nable comfort ; there are very few passengers on
board, but amonc^ these few some interestinof and
pleasant men ; an excellent cuis{?ie, with service to
match ; and, not to forget essentials, a first-class
vessel and a captain worthy to command her.

Among the passengers is a Japanese official,
who has been sent abroad to study the maritime
defences of the various European States. This
young man, in speaking of the death of the great
reformer and prime minister Iwakura, whom I saw
at w^ork after his first public appearance in 1871,
added, ' My Government are beginning to under-
stand that they have gone too fast, and that tlie
]ieople have some difficulty in following them in the
reforms inaugurated by the illustrious Iwakura.'
This is just what I have always thouglit.

The * Yang Tse,' whicli makes from thirteen to
fifteen knots an hour pretty steadily, has covered

;

CHAP. I.] JAVA— SINGAPORE — CEVLOX

389

the 1,070 miles in less than five clays. On
January 10 the sunrise rends asunder the veil of
gauze, and Adam's Peak appears as if suspended
m the air. Beneath it is the mist from the sea.
Almost level with the water, a white ribbon striped
with green unrolls itself as far as the eye can
reach— the waves that beat against the cliffs covered
with cocoa-nut palms. It is the island of Ceylon.
At ten o'clock in tlie morning I step ashore at
Colombo. Before evening, in response to an invi-
tation from Sir Arthur Gordon, who is tinfortu
nately on an official tour, I have travelled by rail
across an exquisite country, ascending all the time.
At nightfall I alight at the 'Pavihon' at Kandy,
where Lady Gordon kindly welcomes me. Kandy'
situated in tlie middle of the island, is tlie old'
capital of the kings, and the Pavilion is thi^
summer residence of the English Governor. At
Colombo I nearly succumbed to the heat ; here, at
Kandy, it is almost cold.

'2 i

Sa •*'

Hand of Ceyhm, January 12 to lo.—It
Sunday, and I attend service in the Poman
CathoHc church, built entirely of stone, and
dating from 1877. The bishop preach'es in
English, with the pleasant intonation of the

Hi; !

390

INDIA

[r\aT IV.

lingua Uouinna and the gestures of a Soiitlierner.
Some officers, and a good number of Englisli
soldiers and Eurasians, are among tlie congrega-
tion. The centre of tl\e nave is filled with
groups of Singhalese women sitting on their heels
and ])eautifully drnped in their cotton garments of
a simple colour — crimson, white or brown. Here
and there an arm, adorned with a bracelet of mas-
sive silver or copper, peeps out from the folds of
their dress. There is something artistic in this
scene, but the artist is Nature, and what enhances
its charm is that the actors show not the slightest
intention to attract notice. The women, with their
tiny feet and tapering fingers, though not handsome,
are remarkable for their noble features, attitudes,
and movements. The colour of the Singhalese
varies from a light Florentine bronze to dark brown
and ebony black. The half light which prevails in
the church tones down the contrast between the
soft hues of the groups of natives and the brilliancy
of the English uniforms.

Kandy is a small town with an Indian character
about it. The Singhalese predominate, but Malays
also are to be seen, and Tamils from the coast of
Coromandel. There are no European houses, ex-
cept Government buildings and the Post Office,
which would do credit to a provincial prefec-
ture on the Continent. The charminir Pavilion

CHAP. I,]

JAVA — SINGAPORE CEYLON

391

buried in tlie trees of the surrounding park is
liidden from view. The few EngHsh residents, all
of them Govern. nent officials, occupy bungalows
outside the town, which is essentially Indian.
The narrow streets, lined with low houses, are
alive from daybreak : men, women, children,
and bullocks form a moving mass ; the young
men, with their long hair fastened back from the
forehead with combs, look rather efleminate.
The whole of this crowd glides along Avithout
jostling. Everyone exhibits an air of self-respect.
I saw, as we came out of church, an old man
with noble features, dark complexion, and a
silvery beard, saluto a woman who was carrying a
child. They were but common people who stopped,
bowed, and, after exchanging a few words, separated
with the ease and simple dignity of people in good
society.

The Hon. J. F. Dickson, the Government Agent
of the central province, took me to his residence,
the old palace of the kings,^ which stands upon a
hill. Good taste lias been shown in allowing
nothing to be changed here, beyond simply sur-
rounding the building with a verandah, which shuts
off the sky and the heights about the town, but does
not prevent the eye from looking down, over the

^ The last king of Ceylon was deposed in 1815 on the arrival
of the English.

.1 fi

i i

392

INDIA

[part IV.

tops of the trees, into the depth beyond, which has
the appearance of a vast green carpet.

A few steps from this palace stands a, temple,
famous for the worship of a tooth of Buddha.
This relic is kept in a golden lotus, which in turn
is enclosed in a number of other cases, ?U set with
])recious stones and adorned with jewelled chains,
the pious offerings of former kings. Sapphires
and rubies sparkle in the dim twilight of the sanctu-
ary. Huge bowls, filled with rose-leaves gathered
in the morning, diffuse delicious perfumes. We
were received by two ' bonzes ' or priests, with
closely shaven heads and clothed in yellow robes,
leaving the right arm and shoulder exposed. One
of them is remarkable for his keen, malicious-
looking eye, the other for his besotted appearance ;
both of them remind me of their brethren in Japan
and the Lamasseries of Mongolia. These holy men
have all a family likeness.

One of the walls of the temple forms a sort of
balustrade along part of the ke of Kandy, wliich
is famous not for its size, for it is only two miles
in circumference, but for the charm of the sur-
rounding landscLtpe.

We make an excursion with a very pleasant
party to the mountain, by the railway which is to
connect Kandy wdth the highest portion of the
island. The train, a long one, is filled with

CHAP. I.]

JAVA SINGAPORE CEYLON

393

natives. They are very fond of travelling by rail,
and whenever they can scrape together a couple
of annas they give themselves this treat.

At one of the stations, Mr. Dickson, who is on
an official tour, leaves us. One of the head men of
the district, a native surrounded by his subordinates,
receives him with proper ceremony. Some men
carry banners, others are making fearful music on
queer-looking instruments, and a crowd of people
fills the approaches to the station. The sun shoots
down its rays upon them all. Tliis chief, a fat
young man, has a modest air, but there is nothing
servile in his demonstrations of deference ; we are
no longer in Java. He speaks a little English. I
am told that many of the Bi'Uish officials prefer
that their native subordinates should not be con-
versant with English, as their knowledge of that
language, by facilitating contact with Europeans,
leads too often to corruption.

The district of Anibaya, through which we
are passing, once celebrated for its coffee, so
highly prized in Europe, presents the sad sight
of an important industry now abandoned. Signs
of devastation are visible all around — pretty
cottages now deserted, fields strewn with the
debris of coffee-plants ; in short, real desolation.
Efforts are being made, however, to replace the
coffee by tea, cocoa, and cinchona.

! «

1)1

; (

; t

394

INDIA

[part rv.

The railway, continually on the ascent, winds
alongside of a splendidly kept carriage-road leading
over the top of the mountains to a place called
Nuwara Eliya, which the English have changed
into New Aurelia. There is a cottage belonging to
the Government, and serving as a retreat for the
Governor and his family during the seasons of
extreme heat. The higher we go the more the
vegetation loses its tropical character. The air is
pure, fresh, and buoyant ; we forget that we are
now at the sixth parallel.

The common people seem to me prosperous ;
though I am told they are poor, in so far as they
have no money. But they have enough to live
on from day to day. It is only bad harvests and
epidemics that leave them without resources. Then
comes distress, if not actual famine. They are
indifferent about their English masters, but not
in the least hostile. Their material condition has
never been better than at present. What irritates
the Singhalese is the inexorable strictness of
official proceedings, and especially the rigorous col-
lection of taxes. Their former kings would fleece
them unmercifully whenever they wanted money,
but in ordinary times they were easy-going enougli,
and in bad years were accommodating in matters of

criAP. I.]

JAVA — SINGArORK — CKYI.ON

395

taxation. In tliis respect the native regrets tiie
good old times. I liave heard tlie sameconi[)hiints
in every part of tlie world, where barbarous
or half-civilised races are subjects of a modern
State.

Strolling along the streets of Kandy I saw, to
my great surprise, some Kaffirs — Kaffirs in Ceylon !
The cause of the anomaly is tliis : tliere used to be
a regiment here, 1,400 strong, composed entirely of
men of colour, and divided into companies accord-
ing to their nationalities — Singhalese, Tamils,
Malays, negroes of the Antilles, and even Kaffirs,
officered by Englishmen. This regiment, which
did good service, and gained great credit for its
discipline, was disbanded for administrative reasons
about five years ago. Most of the disbanded pri-
vates remained in the country, and many of them,
among others the Kaffirs, passed into the native
police. It was a fairly successful attempt to unite
in the service of the same cause tlie barbarous or
semi-barbarous representatives of the scattered
portions of the British Empire.

I « ';

The dawn that precedes the day is flooding the
Pavilion and park with its amber coloured tints.

396

INDIA

[I'AKT IV.

The air at tliis lioiir is delicious — cool, soft, and
])c'rfuined by tlie flowers on tlie terraces around
tlie house. Inside, the Singhalese servants, clothed
in white tunics, and already at work, are going
noiselessly al)out the rooms, which are always open ;
gliding barefooted along the matting, and dis-
appearing and rea})pearing in the twilight of the
passages. In strange contrast with these slight
and lissom figures are seen the powerful frame,
square shoulders, and Ethiopian features of a black
Hercules brought by Sir Arthur Gordon from tlie
Fiji Islands. In tlie houses of Anglo-Indians
everything is open, and everything is shrouded in
mystery. It is a continual struggle between the
light, which is regarded as a foe, and the shade,
which is greeted as a friend. A silk -cotton tree,
gently ruflled by a breath of air, strews the lawn
before the Pavilion with its large crimson flowers.
The flapping wings of some songless birds, nestling
among the branches, aiid the softened sound of the
'tom-tom' in the Buddhist pagoda, mingle witli
the distant and confused hum which tells that the
population is astir.

At length, or rather too soon, the carriage
which is to take me away is announced. I arrived
here not ill, but somewhat fatigued. It is im-
possible to face the damp heat of Northern
Australia and Java with impunity. Three days

CHAP. I.]

JAVA — SINGAPORE— CKVLON

397

in this moimtain air, and under tlio liospitahk- roof
of Lady Gordon, had made nio feel quite well
ajiain. And now en route for India.^

" Alth()n<,'li Cc.vloii. in repartl to its ethnology, poo^rraphy, and
history, l)flonj,'s to India, this Crown colony is not", mlininistnUivcly
speaking,', a portion of tlio Indian Empire. The rivalries between
the various departments and tlio old East India Company explain
this anomaly. When En-land took forcible possession of this
island in lHir>, stress was laid in London on the fact that the con-
quest was due to the royal troops, and not to the Company's army.

;|i

] <

M i

398

INDIA

[rvur IV,

CHAPTER II.

MADRAS.

Fhom January If) to February 7.

Arrival at Madraw — Visit to Ouiiuly Park — St. Thomas's Mount —
Tlio Mysore Statt'--Ti<,'ors at a railway station — The Maharajah
of Mysore — Uevievv at Han^alore - The Iiuliaii army — The
Maharajah's ball — British residents — Mfjr. Coadou — Assault of
arms at the camp— Tennjles of Conjeveram — Arrival of the
Viceroy at Madras — Journey to Hyderabad — Bolaram — The
Ni/am's State — Sir Salar Jun^' — The feudatory princes — The
Nizams army — The Viceroy's durbar — The Nizam's durbar —
Fetes at Hyderabad — A villa of Salar Jung — A morning walk
— City of Hyderabad.

The s.s. ' Tibre,' of the Messageries Maritiincs, left
Colombo harbour on the evening of January 1-3,
and, after rounding the island of Ceylon and Ivlng
to for a day off Pondicherry, cast anchor in tlie
roadstead of Madras on the morninfr of the 19th.

Gnindy Pari', from January 19 to 22 ; and
from January 2G to February 1. — The bar, of evil
repute, is in a better state than usual. The pecu-
liar build of the surf-boats and the strength of

CHAP. II.]

MADRAS

399

tlieir timbers testify to tlie strain wliieli is put
upon tliein in foul weather.

The town stretches ah)n^' tlie sliore on low
land covered with trees. Nothing can he seen of
the fronts of the houses save verandahs anil (•«»-
lonnades, like ])Cople with their mouths o[hmi to
draw in the sea-l»reeze. The historical Fort iSt.
Geor<fe, some j)ul)lic buildin<fs on the shore, and,
farther inland, and lialf hidden by the trees of
the park, the hujxe Ciovermnent House, give to
Madras, as seen from the sea, a military and otiicial
character.

Here I am, making my <lt'bat in a country
which is altogether new to me. IIow shall I set
to work? While indulging in these reflections,
the appearance of a fine boat, with oarsmen dressed
in white, relieves me of my embarrassment. It
is Captain liagot, aide de-camp to Mr. Grant Dull*,
Governor of the Madras Presidency, who is coming
in search of nie to take me to Guindy Park, the
usual residence of the representative of the (iueen.
We drive rapidly, often under overarching brandies,
across a flat green wooded country — a regular
park intersected in every direction by magnificent
long avenues. The roads swarm with wayfarers
in tunics of white, pink, orange, and brown, and
with others whose bronze or black bodies are
almost entirely naked. The women are veiy

li'

{

I .

(•'

400

INDIA

[part IV.

prettily draped in their sarees or scarves, and have
larije bangles on their arms and ankles. Grouped
together in twos, or threes, or fours, they all seem
immersed in talk, but not one is in a hurry. It is
a ilood of human beings in brilliant colours, now
lit up by a ray of sunshine as it pierces through
the leaves, and now wrapped in shade. In three-
quarters of an hour we reach our journey's end,
and I renew with lively pleasure my acquaintance
with Mr. Grant Duff.

Guindy Park, faced with white chunam outside
and in, is a huge palace in the Italian style, showing
the taste of the time when it was built. Each room
has its punkah^ the name given to a large fan sus-
pended at mid-height of the apartment, and swung
with ropes pulled by invisible hands as soon as you
show any intention of stopping there. Venetian
shutters take the place of window and door hang-
ings. The air comes in freely everywhere, and,
thanks to the punkahs, gives you a feeling of un-
speakable comfort, not unmixed, however, with a
vague presentiment of rheumatism. Servants,
whose name apparently is legion, move barefooted,
light, and silent as ghosts, about the corridors.
They wear a white tunic with a cloth cummerbund
or belt. This Eastern luxury offers a pleasing con-

mmmm

CHAP. 11.]

MADRAS

401

trast to tlie aristocratic simplicity of their masters
and the quiet elegance of the furniture.

In front of one of the facades of the palace a
large lawn, wliich, thanks to the recent rains, has kept
its emerald green, extends to a terrace, bordered on
one side by a stone balustrade. Beyond, the view-
is lost in verdure — groves of giant trees, seem-
ingly boundless meadows, and farther still, dra-
peries of foliage the pale tints of wliicli give a notion
of their distance. The absence of an horizon pro-
duces a more striking impression of infinity tlian
even those vast panoramas which the eye commands
from mountain-tops. The garden, parK\ and build-
ings are kept in perfect order ; but to remind us
that we are in India, now and tlien, at nightfall, the
discordant howl of a jackal chimes in wiih the
sounds of the piano that rencli us tlirou<di tlie
open windows, as we linger strolling on the terrace.
I sliall never forget these evening walks before
dinner, on dark warm evenings, in the company
of my kind host. The great questions of the day,
past events, the names of friends in common who
have taken or are taking part in them, Europe
and India — all constantly recurred in these talks,
which were interrupted by the first sound of the
dinner-bell, and continued afterwards, sometimes
well inta the night. It was not without a certain
qualm — I confess my cowardice — that I followed

VOL. I. D

ii5

I ■

■ i

< 1

402

INDIA

[PAKT IV.

Mr. Grant Duff across the lawn to regain the house
on account of the snakes — those terrible snakes !
Every new-comer dreads these reptiles at first, but
gradually he gets accustomed to them, and never
thinks of them except when, perliaps, he hears that
some poor Indian has died from their bite. How-
ever, a letter has come only to-day from an officer
at a neighbouring station, saying' tliat, while busy
writing, he saw stretched out upon the paper, a
couple of feet from his head, and at tjie very tips
of his fingers, a cobra erect and re i " y to dart
at him. For a second or two he felt as though
paralysed, but then sprang to his feet and killed
the animal. And yet, during seven years of
military service in India, this, he tells us, is only
the second cobra he has ever seen near, or rather
too near, him.

Before daylight we start for St. Thomas's
Mount. This is a small church built to c^ui-
memorate the pursuit of the Apostle by the pag;»jr.
A short way off stands another chapel, upon the
site where, according to the legend, St. Thomas
suffered martyrdom. In the southern part of the
Presidency the Roman Catholic natives, descend-
ants of those whom St. Francis Xavier converted,
are very numerous. No spot is more cheerful,

CHAP. II.]

MADRAS

403

more smiling, and more idyllic than the scene of
that sacred tragedy.

I meet in my excursions a number of small oxen
yoked to carts. Their horns are curved gracefully
backward and are prettily painted ; they have
small eyes full of tender melancholy, and a modest,
almost bashful expression. But these gentle-
looking creatures are in reaUty nasty-tempered
brutes, and woe to anyone who should venture to
fondle them. Knowing well that their horns are
merely ornaments, and not weapons of offence,
they resort to their hoofs and kick at you most
savagely.

I spent this mornii:g at Madras. It requires
courage, even in a close carriage, to drive, under
the fierce rays of this sun, reflected by a sandy
soil, along the interminable esplanade that stretches
in front of Fc:t St. George and along the shore
and the streets of the EngHsh quarter. The
pagoda, though far less famous than those of
Madura or Conjeveram, is reckoned, nevertheless,
among the fine Dravidian temples. No sooner
have you entered it than the sanctity of the place
imposes on the eye, irritates the sense of smell,
and fills you with secret terrors. But I fancy that

D D 2

: ♦

]:!

i.^'i

404

I>DTA

[part IV.

such is not the case with tliose who are used to it.
The Brahmans had a sleepy look, and the sacred
elephant seemed profoundly disgusted with the
part he had to play.

We had an excellent lunch at the Club, which
has the reputation of being the best in India.

Bangalore^ from January 22 to 27. — The
Governor is going to the camp at Bangalore, and
I have the honour of accompanying him.

Bangalore, one of the great military canton-
ments of India, forms part of the feudatory Hindoo
State of Mysore, or rather is a district which has
remained under English administration. This prin-
cipality, founded at the beginning of the fifteenth
century, fell, about the middle of the last century,
into the hands of a Mussulman soldier, the famous
Hyder Ali. Tlie exactions and cruelties of the
usurper, and of his son Tippoo Sahib, and their
persecutions of the Hindoos, have survived in the
traditions of the people. We are all familiar with
the victorious campaign of 1799, in which the Duke
of Wellington (then Colonel Wellesley) gained his
first distinction in arms — the siege and capture yji
Seringapatam, and the heroic end of Tippoo Sahib.
In all this there is nothing extraordinary, for the
history of India is rich in similar exploits. The

CHAP. II.]

MADRAS

405

1 1

novelty lies in the determination of the English
Government to resuscitate the ancient Hindoo
dynasty by restoring to one of its descendants the
kingdom conquered by British arms. This was an
infant of three years of age who, on attaining hia
majority and being placed in possession of his do-
minions, governed them so badly that Lord William
Bentinck, then Governor-General, judged it neces-
sary to depose him (1831) and to undertake the
administration of the country. The same prince,
having become a pensioner and prisoner of State,
was already far advanced in years when he
adopted (1865) a young child of Eajpoot blood.
The English Government recognised the adoption,
enthronf^d the infant Maharajah on the death of his
predecessor in 1868, caused him to be carefully edu-
cated, and on his attaining the lawful age entrusted
to him (1882) the administration of his State. ^

We leave Madras in the afternoon. The
country is dull, level, undulating, and dotted with
small rice plantations and with numberless tanks —

^ The State of Mysore has an area of 27,078 square miles. The
popnlation, which in 1871 amonnted to 5,055,412, was reduced by
the famine of 1870-78, and amounted in 1881 to 4,186,400. The State
revenue, which has doubled under English administration, is about
1,000,000?., of which a fourth part, which is to be raised to a third,
has to go, as a military tribute and for political expenses, to the
coffers of the Indian Government.

ilj

4o6

INDIA

[part IV.

ancient tanks, tanks recently dug, tanks natural
and artificial. I am assured that in the parts of the
])eninsula througli which we are passing there are
more than eighty thousand of them. The water
they hold is unwholesome. A.t Bangalore it is
boiled for the soldiers' use.

The ground gradually rises. During the night
we gain the high tableland that stretches towards
Central India. Tigers, which abound in the jungle,
infest the railway occasionally, and show themselves
sometimes at the stations. Only lately the station-
master at a place some hundreds of miles from
Madras telegraphed to the Company's manager,
Avho lives in the capital of the Presidency : ' Tigers
on platform. Staff frightened. Pray arrange.'

The night has been cold, and my overcoat and
plaid are not a bit too much. About seven o'clock
we arrived at Bangalore, 212 miles from Madras.

A detachment of the Maharajah's sepoys and
cavalry formed the Governor's guard of honour.
We alight at the house of Mr. Lyall, the Englisli
Eesident, a pretty building in tlie Anglo-Indian
style, and surrounded by a fine park. The sun is
hot but the air cool, almost cold, reminding one
of Nice or Cannes on a fine winter's day. Banga-
lore stands 3,000 feet above the level of the sea,

CHAP. II.]

MADRAS

407

and the climate is considered healthy. I am
told, however, that intermittent fever is rather
I)revalent in the camp. It is attributed to the
north-easterly monsoon, which brings hither and
disperses over the tableland of Mysore the miasmas
of the coast of Coromandel.

I paid a visit to the Maharajah in the company
of the Governor and the Eesident. He received
these high officials on the steps of his new palace.
This edifice, built quite recently by an English
arcliitect in tlie Elizabethan style, and furnished in
English fashion but oriental in its arrangements,
is symbolical of the hybrid condition of this young
Hindoo State: a branch grafted by an English
gardener on the trunk of an old tree which li(dit-
ning had blasted more than a century ago.

In the city of Mysore, his usual residence, the
Maharajah leads a purely oriental life. At certain
festivals he shows himself in public, covered with
precious stones, and seated motionless in his ve-
randah for five consecutive hours. Here he adopts,
to a certain extent, the dress and manners of a
European.

ChamaRajendra Wodeyar is a handsome young
man of dignified demeanour, regular features, a
soft and almost melancholy expression, and a
slightly bronzed complexion, approaching pale
black. He bears on his brow a black mark, which

! t'

¥'.

!'■

4o8

INDIA

[part it.

at times he changes for a pink one. This is a way
of humouring the susceptibiUties of tlie liostile wor-
shippers of Vishnu and Siva. His dress, which is
very simple, is a compromise between the costume
of an oriental and the toilette of an English gentle-
man. He talks English slowly but correctly, with
a slight foreign accent which is not unpleasing ;
lie seemed to me to have a slight stammer. He is
a sensible man, I am told ; somewhat slow in
making up his mind, but to be trusted, when once
his resolution is taken and his word is given.
However, it is not the Maharajah who governs, but
his Diwan.'^

This stay at Bangalore, where just now ten
thousand troops are concentrated, is a succession
of military displays and fetes. The three great
chiefs — Sir Donald Stewart, Commander-in-Chief
of India ; Sir Frederick Eoberts, Commander of the
Madras army ; and General Hardinge, Commander
of the army of Bombay — are here assembled for
the first time.

To-day there was a grand review in camp.
Eight thousand men were drawn up in echelon on a
large plain dotted with small hillocks and thickets :
Horse Artillery, the Eoyal Artillery, and British
cavalry and infantry ; a total of 2,800 English

' This word is synonymous in India with Prime Minister.

CHAP. II.]

MADRAS

409

troops, not including officers. The rett consisted
of native cavalry and infantry, and of a regiment
of the Maharajah. The bearing of tlie English tro()[)s
was magnificent, and that of the native Madras
regiments thoroughly soldierly, notwithstanding
that the races they belong to are reckoned less
warlike than the populations of the Nortli. The
Maharajah's regiment of cavalry gave the impres-
sion of irregular but comparatively well-trained
troops.

By the large British standard, side by side with
Sir Frederick Eoberts, who connnands the camp,
were the Governor, in ordinary morning dress. Sir
Donald Stewart, and General Ilardinge ; the latter
wore, as did all the officers, a scarlet tunic and wiiite
helmet with gold mountings. The Maliai ijah had
mingled with the Staff, but by the invitation of
Sir .Frederick Eoberts placed himself beside him.
He wore round his head a crimson scarf striped with
gold. With the exception of this handsome head-
dress, which was not a turban, the young prince had
chosen for this great occasion European attire, con-
sisting of a short coat of black velvet, light leather
breeches, and riding-boots. He rode a superb
white Arab. Behind the group of generals and
their retinue, among whom some intrepid Amazons
to get themselves admitted, were
of carria<^es filled with ladies, and

had managed

[ I

■I

.11.

throng

4IO

INDIA

[part IV.

multitude of Europeans on foot and on horseback.
Nothing could be finer than the march past,
especially tliat in brigade. IJut it is the scene as
a whole tliat bafHes all description : an immense
and slightly broken plain ; the long line of troops,
partly red, partly dark, with arms glittering in the
sun ; the neighing of the horses ; the hollow rumbling
of the ammunition wagons ; and all framed in by a
countless crowd of natives who have flocked hither
on foot, on horseback, or in carts drawn by small
oxen with their horns curved back and painted red,
blue, or yellow. Conspicuous in this confused mass
are the wliite and crimson hues of the costumes of
the natives, relieved by the bronze or black tint of
the wearers. Farther off, elephants laden with
forage intended for the camp, and camels, fastened
one by one to long ropes, stand out in bold relief
against this Indian sky, which just now is brilliant
overhead, pale lower down, and veiled in light mist
on the horizon. Thanks to the north-easterly mon-
soon, the air is fresh, but the sun is pitiless. We
had come hither by rail ; we return to Banga-
lore by carriage. The country is nothing but a
series of small stony hillocks, gardens, orchards,
and isolated groups of enormous trees. People are
seen everywhere, and here and there a village
with its crowded bazaar. We pass by a pagoda
flanked witli cocoa-nut trees. The wind is stirring

CHAP. II.]

MADRAS

4TI

their brandies, and tlie rustic temple is crowned
with a flickering halo of light and shade.

I confess I was moved by this morning's mili-
tary display. No one can help being moved when
he himself sees, in actual tangible form, some
grand idea of which his only previous conception
was derived from reading or hearsay. I saw
troops, composed of the representatives of two widely
different races, assembled together and manoeuvring
on the same ground, arrayed under the same stand-
ard, and summoned to serve the same cause, which
is certainly die cause of order and civihsation, but
which is also, and cannot but be above all, that of
maintaining the English rule. And certainly to
enlist the conquered in the service of the conquerors,
when the latter, in point of numbers, form a scarcely
perceptible minority, is one of the boldest ideas ever
yet conceived in the mind of man. To those who
doubt the permanent stability of the Indian Empire
it seems like foolhardiness. For my own part, I
think that two arguments, one of which appears to
me unanswerable, tell in favour of the system.
In the first place, a long and brilliant experience,
confirmed rather than falsified by the Mutiny of
1857, which was crushed in a short time by the
aid of native troops ; the second, and what I call the

)

412

INDIA

[part IV.

unanswerable arf^niment, is the physical impossibility
on tlie |)art of tlie niotlier-country of supplying/, })y
means of Jiritisli soldiers, tlie ])lace of the native
troops, who in India form the bulk of her army.
The fact is >:elf-evident. There is no choice in the
matter, or ratiic-r the only choice would be between
maintaining the j)resent system and giving up India
altogether.

Necessity, therefore, points to following the
beaten track. ' Paucd sapientid m/itur nmndus,'
said Oxenstiern. Here a world is governed, guided,
and kept in check by a wand. But behind the
material force, which, if compared with the task it
is expected to accomplish, is as no* ig, lies the
moral force, which is boundless and ..^^alculable ;
behind the wand is prestige.

But what is prestige ? Everyone I meet speaks
of it, and no one has yet been able satisfactorily to
define it. I shall not attempt to find a definition ;
I shall simi)ly explain what I understand by the
term. To my mind, if you succeed in inspiring me
with the idea that you are stronger than I am, you
exercise prestige over me. The less this conviction
on my part is founded on reason, the deeper it is.
If once it rises to the height of an article of faith, the
prestige will be complete. Dictionaries call ' pres-
tige ' an ' illusion ; ' but this definition seems to me
erroneous. So long as it is based on real superi-

CHAP. II.]

MADRAS

413

ority, prosli<;c has nothiiif^ illusory about it. It
becomes an illusion when reality ceases to corre-
spond with appearance. There are two enemies
to fear : failure, no matter where, or when, or
ajrainst whom, and discussion. Faith does not
admit of discussion. Failure destroys prcsti^'c
rapidly, thouj]^h not always completely ; discussion
destroys it secretly, slowly, and eflectually. Inas-
much as the sun never sets on the Bi'itish Empire,
the Imperial authorities of the peninsula of the
Gan^jcs are not alone sufTicient to maintain Enirlish
prestige in India. It can be upheld, impaired, or
lost at every point of (he globe.

Lunches and dinners come one upon the other ;
everyone is full of s'pirits. The camp is about to
break up, and the high military authorities con-
sider the assembly a success. I meet daily, and
more than once in the day. Sir Donald Stewart, the
Commander-in-Chief. He is a fine specimen of a
gentleman and a soldier, with a kindly but de-
termined expression and a frank but commanding
countenance, and with moustaches and whiskers
blanched by forty years' service under an Indian
sky. Sir Frederick Roberts, who commands t! '
Madras army, and therefore tlie camp, does tli-
honours with the utmost geniality. The hero of

414

INDIA

[part IV.

Afghanistan, famous in particular for the march
from Cabul to Kandahar, he resembles in figure
and bearing our Austrian officers of hussars. His
quick and lively glance, and the expression of
courage and firmness that ennobles his features,
reveal the secret of his brilliant career and of the
hopes attaching to his name.

One evening, towards sunset, which is not
dreaded here as in some fever-haunted countries of
Europe, we took a charming walk to Lai Bagh.
This is a public garden laid out by the Indian
Government during the English administration of
what was then the ' province ' of Mysore. This
attractive resort, as also the ' public buildings,'
which contain the Government offices, have be-
come the property of the Maharajah. Lai Bagh re-
sembles the Villa Borghese at Eome and certain
portions of the Villa Pamfili, not indeed in the
vegetation, which is here Indian and tropical, but
m design and general aspect. There are, however,
some fine cypresses, which are very common in the
Northern provinces but rare in these parts. Night
overtakes us under the shade of these long avenues
of exotic trees.

, ♦■'■

CHAP. II.]

MADRAS

4^5

The series of festivities was wound up with a
fancy-dress ball, given to the English by the Maha-
rajah in the ' public buildings.' The prince did the
honours with dignity and grace. The magnilicent
diamonds of his numerous necklaces, of the value
of some 30,000/., sparkled brightly on his dark and
richly broidered tunic, which resembled the full
dress of Turkish ambassadors. The taste for jewels
is often the ruling passion in natives of high caste,
and to gratify it the princes spend fabulous sums in
buying pearls, diamonds, and other precious stones,
of which the jewellers of Madras, Calcutta, and
Bombay have always a large supply.

The ladies appeared in every variety of fancy
dress — rich, elegant, and whimsical ; and most of
the wearers outshone their costumes. The atmo-
sphere of the ball-room was distinctly military.
Seated by the side of a charming lady, dressed like
a begum, I asked her, ' Who is that pretty fair

girl ? ' ' Miss ,' was the reply, ' of the English

cavalry brigade.' ' And that other lady with light

auburn hair ? ' ' Mrs. , of the Royal Artillery.'

' And the one on the left in a white burnous ? '

' Lady , of the Hyderabad Contingent ; ' and

so on. My fair neighbour herself belonged to the
* Subsidiary Force ; ' she introduced me to a young
lady dressed as a deaconess, who, in consequence of
having killed a tiger, is now a lionesa of the day

4x6

INDIA

[part it.

Fancy-dress balls usually grow flat when once the
first curiosity is satisfied, but not so here. Qua-
drilles, waltzes, and lancers followed each other in
unbroken succession. With the exception of the
host, who remained standing upright at the door,
saluting politely, but without a smile, the coming
and the parting guests, everyone joined in the
dancing, and side by side with youth and beauty
stafT-ofiicers with white moustaches dashed bravely
into the melee. Except the Maharajah and his
brother, his aide-de-camp, his ministers and the
servants, I did not see a single native in this crowd
of Europeans, and yet the entertainment was tho-
roughly oriental in character. I was driven away
sooner than I could have wished by the cold
draughts of air, and wrapped in my winter over-
coat I finished up this day, so full of new impres-
sions, with a solitary stroll in such a moonlight as is
only seen in Southern India.

The powers of the Residents in respect of the
once independent princes — now called feudatories,
to avoid the term 'mediatised' — are ill defined,
and vary according to tlie extent, which is not
everywhere the same, of the sovereign rights left to
tlie former masters of the territory. The Maha-
rajah of Mysore, in accepting his throne from the

CHAP. II.]

MADRAS

417

Indian Government, was obliged to accept also the
conditions they imposed. He can neither make new
laws nor modify tliose existing without the Vice-
roy's consent ; and this consent is also indispensable
for appointing to public posts and even for simple
increases of salary. The business is conducted in
the first instance by word of mouth, and after-
wards by correspondence between the Diwan and
the Resident. The latter never addresses himself
to the Maharajah except in cases of exceptional
gravity. The present Diwan is a comparatively
learned man. It is he who, under the Eesident's
control, governs Mysore.

This morning the Maharajah honoured me with
a visit. His simple and dignified demeanour, and
the melancholy exprossion of his features, give him
an interesting appearance. He brought me his
photograph, which, I am told, I must regard as a
special favour. Such portraits are not given to
everyone, still less to evil-disposed persons, who,
by magic arts, might make a bad use of them. I
am therefore clearly, in the prince's eyes, an in-
offensive beinor.

! J

1 'I

Mgr. Coadou, the vicar-apostolic in the State
of Mysore, a venerable old priest who was born

VOL. I. J, g

)

4i8

INDIA

[part IV.

in Brittany, has lived here for many years. Ills
co-religionists in this State amount to 26,000, of
whom 15,000 are at Bangalore. Converts are for
the most part made among the common people, and
are extremely rare among high-caste natives. This
is the case wherever there are missionaries, whether
Roman Catholic or Protestant, and is owing, I am
told, to the hostility of the Brahmans, who possess
great influence, especially over the rural popula-
tions. Mgr. Coadou and his fellow-workers do
justice to the benevolent neutrality of the Britisli
authorities, wiio offer no hindrance whatever to the
exercise of their ministry.

The camp is broken up, and tlie regiments arc
all astir, in preparation for the return to thei.
cantonments. As a wind-up, there is an assault of
arms this afternoon. Lancers, both oflTicers and
privates, well mounted, and excellent horsemen, are
going through a carrousel in the style of the old
Spanish school, a performance which, with troop-
horses and troopers, is not an easy one. After this
follow some sim/le combats on horseback between
English and native soldiers. A Sikh horseman
comes off victorious in all the encounters. The scarf
that forms his turban gets unrolled, and the long
hair flows loosely about his face ; he gathers it in.

CHAP. II.]

MADRAS

419

ties it up again, and readjusts his turban— all at
full gallop. Tliese men are very proud of their
locks : a general told me he once saw a wounded
Sikh, whose head had to be shaved, refuse the
doctor's aid, saying, ' Let me die ; I have lost my
hair.'

The native spectators looked on at this per-
formance with evident interest, but silently and
without applause. I am told that it is not their
habit to applaud, and that they are naturally very
undemonstrative. The plain was covered with
white and pink tunics. The old tamarind-trees were
speckled with these two colours— bunches of men
hanging from the branches. English soldiers were
mingled with the crowd of natives. The setting
sun and the pecuhar after-glow which here, as in
the Southern Hemisphere, has appeared this year for
the first time, blend their tints of purple and violet-
yellow with the red and white of the crowd and
the dusty ochre of the pLjn. It was like the final
scene of a ballet illumined by the clianging splen-
dours of the electric lidit.

' I!

i t

Conjeveram, January 29— To Conjeveram and
back is a long day's railway journey ; but as the
great temples of Madura are inaccessible, on
account of the cholera which is now ruva^incr the

V E 2

i If

- « i » Wi

420

INDIA

[part I»'.

more southern part of the peninsula, I liave to
content myself witli a visit to tlie slirines of
Conjeverain, which are less spacious but more
ancient, and held in equal veneration by the faith-
ful ; at least so a Braliman of the place assured
me, though perhaps he vras merely praising his
own saint. Accompanied by two Hindoo servants,
I left Guindy Park before dayl^reak. The country
is flat ; innumerable tanks, many of tliem arti-
ficial, supply the necessary water for tlie rice-fields,
which stretch a oiig each side of the railway as
far as the eye can see. Farther on, some low hills
give a slight variety to the dull and monotonous
landscape. Goats are browsing all around us. They
are formidable enemies of the young plantations,
and to them is partly attributable the want of
trees, which has become a public calamity. To
obviate this, the Governor of Madras conceived the
plan of planting the hills with timber and reserv-
ing certain feeding-places for the goats. Young
men have been sent from England to the celebrated
' Ecole forestiere ' at Nancy, and after completing
their studies there they are to come out here to
begin the work of reaflbrcsting.

At Chingleput I was received by the Collector.
He tells me the people are happy and contented
when the rice harvest is good ; moreover, profound
tranquillity is now reigning in those districts where.

CHAP. IT.]

MADP.AS

421

under tlie tyrannical o-overnnient of ITydor AH and
Tippoo Saliib, exactions, pillages, rebellions, and
massacres wci-e the order of the day. The benefits
of the pfw Britannica have succeeded an inter-
necine war.

I reached Conjeveram at ten o'clock ^'n tlie
morning. The Collector, or Magistrate, advised
beforehand of my visit, tliought it liis duty to give
me a formal reception. Tliis official, a native of
the country, belongs to the Sudra caste ; he has
studied at the college at Madras, and speaks Eng-
lish with tolerable correctness, but with an accent
that renders him almost unintelligible. He is a
married man, the father of a child, and wears
Indian dress. By his side are the head man cf tlie
town and the collector of a neighbouring talook.
The latter, a Brahman who speaks English re-
markably well, has a cuni.ing and self-satisfied air.
The tw^o wliite streaks ruiiuing vertically from the
roots of his hair to his nose, between the eyes,
show, if I understand ariglit, that he belongs to a
sect of the worshippers of Vishnu.

The scene at the railway station is full of life.
Brahmans, attached to the two great pagodas, hang
garlands of yellow and violet-coloured flowers
round my neck, and put into my hand a pasteboard
parrot, ornamented with little "ellow flowers.
Others present me with fruits, Avhich, as custom

;i
I

1.3

;

1 1

422

INDIA

[part IV.

prescribes, I simply touch witli ir.y finger. All
these civilities are exchanged under a broihng sun.
Conjeveram, which lies on low ground, is con-
sidered one of the liottest places in Southern India,
and not wishing to pass the night there, I was
forced to devote the middle of the day to it. At
times I felt ready to faint. At lengtli we began to
move. A man on horseback, beating a big drum,
and accompanied by flute-players, heads the proces-
sion. Nautch-girls, singing and dancing, go before
the vehicle drawn by oxen, in which I take my seat
with the collector. The civic authorities follow
in similar cars. Amongst the crowd which presses
behind us, I see a vast number of Brahmans,
all with foreheads marked with three white strer.ks,
either vertical or horizontal, according to their
sect. Many of them are nearly naked, and others
are dressed in rags, but all have a proud or
rather spiteful look. The procession advances
very slowly, and we take twenty minutes to reach
the temple of Siva. This sanctuary, which pos-
sesses greater wealth of precious stones than of
money, is in a very dilapidated condition, and looks,
indeed, as though it were on the point of tumbling
down.

Hence I went to Little Conjeveram, where
stands the large and famous pagoda of Vishnu.
The distance is considerable, aiid we do it at our

CFIAP. 11.]

MADRAS

bullock's pace. Horribly jolted in an old sprin^r-
less ' gharry,' over[)owered by the heat, deafened
by the nuisic, and stiHed by the dust through
which I can scarcely see the heads of the nautch-
girls, who keep danc-ing and singing all the time,
I reach at length, thanks to Vishnu, the threshold
of his sanctuary. This god, who is richer than
his rival, himself provides for the wants of his
house ; or, to speak in less mythological language,
the temple possesses landed property and receives
a subvention from government, to which must be
added the gifts of the villages, the whole amounting
to 18.000 rupees. The two decorated gopurams, or
gate pyramids, are 100 and 130 feet in height. The
architecture as well as the sculpture bears some
vague resemblance to the temples in Egypt, but has
also some features which seem to belong to the Cin-
quecento style. It is said, but proofs are wanting,
that these temples were built in the thirteenth
century. I was assured by one who is well versed
in South Indian art, that there were still stand-
ing, in the neighbourhood of this town, pagodas
dating back to the Sv^venth century. An inscrip-
tion recently discovr -ed near Bombay records the
conquest of Conjeve.am by a king of Satara, who
reigned at that time over a part of Southern India.
The beauty of the pagodas disarmed the conqueror,
who at first had decided to raze the town to the

424

INDIA

[PAUT II

pronnd. Not only did lie spare tlic rity, but he
had one of tliese sacred l)uildin<is covered with
gold. Ilyder Ali, less amenable to the seduc-
tions of art, like a true Mussulman, ordered his
followers to mutilate the sculptures on the walls
and pillars, oidy the u|)])er part of which has
remained intact, these Vandals havinjx been un-
able to reach it. With the aid of my Brahman, a
bitter enemy of Ilyder Ali, I examined in detail
the bas-reliefs which represent the incarnations of
Vishnu. The workmanship is coarse, but striking
for the very giotesqueness of the composition and
the keen and animated expression of the god's
face.

Here, as in all the temples of Southern India,
which are very difl'erent from those in the north of
the peninsula, three distinct elements are to be
observed — the gopura, the hall containing the
idol's cell, and, lastly, the sacred tank. First,
the gopura : there are generally two large gate-
pyramids, forming part of the wall of enclosure,
and always raised to a great height, thus attracting
the visitor's eye from afar. In the courts there
also are sometimes small isolated gopuras — gates
leading to nothing — and the use of which I do not
know. The gopuras are always covered with bas-
reliefs and statuettes, arranged in stages one above
the other.

COAP. n.]

MADRAS

425

The hall, the roof of Avhich is supported by
rows of sculptured ])illars intersecting' each other
at right angles, surrounds the sanctuary, where no
Eur()[)ean is allowed to enter. I was taken as far as
the threshold, which, as my Brahman told me, the
Governor himself would never venture to cross.
The (h)or was o|)en, but, in spite of the lighted
torches, the darkness prevented me from distin-
guishing Lhe features of Vishnu, who was seated
at the end of the cell or shrine. Along the hall
were ranged colossal effigies of lions, birds, snails,
and othei- animals, all of gilt co])per. Their aspect
is calculated to inspire the faithful with wholesome
awe. I confess they fascinated me, and I could
scarcely turn away my eyes from these idols, which
make you at once tremble and laugh. Outside
the temple are the cars used by the gods in their
solemn processions through the town. The trea-
sure, which is rich in huge uncut rubies, emeralds,
sapphires, diamonds, and pearls, is being constantly
augmented by the gifts of the faithful. From time
immemorial these stones have been set at Con-
jeveram, but on comparing the ancient with the
modern jewels, it is impossible not to perceive
a great deterioration in the workmanship of the
goldsmith and jeweller.

The sacred tank is sometimes encircled by
balustrades. Stone steps assist the faithful down

426

INDIA

[pAur IV.

to the sacrod water, wliere they perform tlieir
jibhitions. Mugnilieeiit trees are seldom waiitiii«f
to spread then* luxuriant sliade over tlie batliers.
The tank is the most poetii-al, the temj)le and
pillared hall the most mysterious, and the <^opnfMs
the most imposing, part of these Uravidian tem-
ples.

While the treasures were being spread out before
my armehair, and the indefatigable nauteh-girls con-
tinued, in spite of my protestations, to (hmce and sing
around me, I was able to study leisurely the faces
of the crowd. I was seated in front of some steps
leading to a small gopura tilled with lirahmans
of every age. The common people, huddled back
to the centre, were exposed to the sun, whilst
the lirahmans, the privileged ones, luxuriating
upon the steps in the shade of the gateway,
scanned the stranger unceasingly with a cold,
proud, and nialevolent gaze. Most of thein wore
nothing but a strip of white cloth tied round their
loins. The silci'ce and immobility of this group
of Brahmans in the go})ura and of the crowd
in the courtyard ; the weird aspect of the huge
idols, half veiled in the dimness of the colonnades ;
the play of shadow and of light, direct and
reflected ; the sun's rays splintered on the bas-
reliefs upon the walls — all combined to form a
scene of indescribable charm.

cn.iP. II.]

MADRAS

427

Tin; BraliiiKins, most of whom arc very jxtor,
are here either cuUivators of the soil oi' teiii[)K!
servunt.-s. The town is full of them. Sepai'atfd
into two great divisions — the followers of \'isliMii
and of 8iva, who are again subdivided into .sects — ■
these holy men are constantly assaulting each other,
even in the [)recincts of the temple, which fnMjuenlly
becomes in c()n8cqnen(,'e the scene of bloody frays.

On leaving, the chief priest of the temple dis-
tributed among the nautch-girls the handful of
rupees I had given him. Finitd it comnwih'it,
everyone retires. The Bj'ahmans disappear as if
by magic ; I am on(;e more hoisted into the col-
lector's carriage, and the V(3stals, overcome with
fatigue and covered with dust and ])erspiration,
return with drooping heads to their huts, situated
near the temple of which they are the priestesses.

The carriage — that is to say, the 'gharry,' with its
two bullock.s — toils back to the official residence of
the collector. This time I shall to a certainty suc-
cumb to the heat, the dust, and the jolting of the
vehicle. At length, however, still alive, I entei* a
walled-in courtyard in front of a gloomy-looking
house, the ground-floor of which is used as a prison.
The upper story contains the offices of the collector,
who otiers me oranges and some lukewarm and
insipid cocoa-nut milk. A couple of Hiahmans are
not above sharing company with a ?Sudra and a

■ 11

(>.

■ii

428

INDIA

[tart IV.

European, but botli they and my liost take care
not to toucli the refre:sliinent wliicli is ofleretl nie.

I learn from these gentlemen that tlie town
contains 35,000 inhal)itants, all natives, as tliere is
not a single European resident in the sacred city.
Tlie collector himself, who represents the Govern-
ment, is also, as I have said, a Hindoo. Tliis fact
seemed to me curious and significant, especially
when the number of pilgrims is considered, wliicli
amounts sometimes to -30,000 at certain festivals of
the year.

The collector, whose frank manner pleases me,
tells me all about his domestic life, liis official duties,
and the difficulties and worries that the J3ralimans
occasion Iiim. Ilis salary is 2,000 rupees, a sum
amply sufficient for his wants, as living is extremely
cheap. "^.Vlien the rice crops fail, liowever, food is
sometimes four times its usual price, and then the
hardships suffered here are well-nigh those of
famine. The snakes also are a terrible scourge.
Few weeks pass without one or more natives dying
of a bite from tliese reptiles.

The conversation becomes more and more lively.
I ask the onlv one of the two Bralimans wlio knows
English, and who is able, therefore, to answer my
questions freely, ' Do you believe in Vishnu ? "
' No,' said he, ' I have lost my faith.' ' Where
and when ? ' 'In the college at Madras, while learn-

CHAP. II.]

MADRAS

429

ing Eno-lish.' ' You don't then l)elieve in anvtliino?'
' Yes, I believe tliat tliere is perhaps a God, who
will reward or punisli me in anotlier world, ac-
cording to my merits or demerits. But I must
conceal my opinions from my family and friends,
and keep on going to the temple ; otherwise I
should lose my caste. The Brahmans who have
not studied at the EngUsh colleges are all believers.
They make idols, and then believe sincerely in the
divinity of their handiwork.' All this was said
with perfect simplicity, in the presence of a member
of his own caste wdio could not understand what
he was saying, as well as of the collector, a former
pu])il of the same college, who understood M'ell
enough, but took care to say nothing.

! ,:
i ■

1 ;;

Guhuh/ Park, January 31. — My charmimT
visit, wdtli the two intervening trips to Bangalore
and Conjeveram, is drawing to its close. This
morning Sir Donald Stewart arrived, and in the
afternoon we go to Madras to the Vicei'oy's and
Lady Ripon's reception. The town is en fete. The
natives, a compact crowd — black, white, and red,
the colours <4 i\\v\r skins and dresses — throntr
the streets, roof'*, trees, and the scaflbldinf^ of un-
finislied houses. The sight of a Viceroy is a rare
event in Southern India. This is the first, and in

mfmm^sm

430

INDIA

[PABT 17.

all probability the last, visit of Lord Ripon, who is
extremely popular with the natives.

Amoiifr the Eno-lish officials assembled under
a pavilion erected near the jetty were some Indians
of hifjh rank. I was introduced here to a dethroned
Mahometan pi-ince, the scion of one of the most
ancient dynasties in India. lie was dressed in
white, and had an aigrette of superb diamonds in
his hair. But even had he been in rags, his digni-
fied bearing would have made him conspicuous.
In reply to a remark made to him in my presence
bv an officer, that England a hundred years ago
possessed only a few acres of the country, he ob-
served : ' The world is round,' or something of the
kind.

The weather is magnificent, and the sea, f(^r
a wonder, is Uke glass. The Viceroy, accom-
panied by Lady Piipon and her suite, leaves his
yacht, and under a salute from the guns of Fort
St. George disembarks and steps to the pavilion,
where he is received by the Governor and the
heads of the various departments. In reply to
an address from the mayor of the town. Lord
Ripon delivers a long but appropriate and eloquent
speech, but avoids touching on the burning ques-
tions which are just now dividing the Anglo-Indian
world. This ceremony over, a move is made to
Guindy Park, where the supreme representative of

CHAP. IT.]

MADRAS

431

the Queen is going to stay during liis visit to the
Presidency.

The route traversed by tlie procession was more
than six miles long. The natives formed an un-
broken hedge along the whole road, which was
adorned by triumphal arches. To-night Guindy
displays all its s])lendours : a grand banquet, fire-
Avorks, and a concert conducted by the Governor's
bandmaster, the great Stradiote, who is worthy of
a smile of approbation from the immortal Strauss.
The orchestra, by the way, is composed of natives,
who are his pupils. But what astonislies me most is
to see the Viceroy with his suite, the Commander-in-
Chief of the Indian army with his aides-de-camp,
and so many other guests of distinction all put up
at Guindy Park. This miracle is achieved by
means of a nund)er of very comfortable tents which
have l)een erected in the park, as is always done
on such occasions. An Anglo-Indian's walls are as
expansive as his hospitality ; there is always room
for friend -V

I ,;

:'i

The Viceroy is going to Hyderabad to instal
the young Nizam, the most powerful of the feuda-
tory princes, or, as the official phrase runs, to give
him ' investiture with administrative powers.' He
is graciously ple;is< 1 i<> invite me toaccom{)any him
on the juurney. I -nail, theref(^re, have the good

432

INDIA

[part IV.

fortune to be present at a ceremony without pre-
cedent in the history of India.^

Ujjderahad^ from February 1 to 7. — The Vice-
roy's train leaves IVEadras at noon. The country at
first is fiat, then undulating ; farther on, we see
the outlying spurs of tlie plateau. At one of the

' After the extinction of the ancient dynasty of Golconda, which
took place in the reign of the Emperor Aurungzebe, a Mnssuhnan
soldier of fortune took possession of tlie territories of the former
reigning family, and became, under the title of Nizam, the founder
of the Hyderabad State. The present Nizam is his ninth descen-
dant. The princes of this line have always been friends of the
English.

In 1818. the principality, torn by factions and ravaged by the
Pindam>. a horde of freebooters, only escaped certain destruction
by the intervention of the Company's Indian army. With a view
to strengthen the Nizam's authority, a corps of British troojis,
which still exists, and is called the Hyderabad Contingent, was
placed at ins disposal on condition of his providing their pay.

The Hyderabad Contingent and another body of troops called
the ' Subsidiary Force,' which are concentrated in cantonments at
Sikanderabad and B()laram, nine and twelve miles respectively from
the city >f Hyd«^rabad. form a military nucleus in the centre of the
Deccan ihe importance of which is manifest.

The Nizam enjoys a revenue of 3,000,000Z., and maintains,
besides ."3.000 RetbrEued troo})s,' an irregular army of more than
40,00" men. He has also a guard of Abyssinian mercenaries.

The principal nobles. Umaras, Emirs, or Nabobs, are surrounded
by armed bands wholly u\dopendent of the Nizam's army. The
reigning dynastv and the groai majority of the nobles have em-
braced Islamism. Hyderabad State, including Berar, comprises the
greater part of the central Deccan, and covers an area more than equal
to that of Groat Britain, and containing a population of 11,000,000.

I '

CHAP. II.]

MADRAS

43.

stations, two great zemindars, riclily dressed, are in
waiting. Lord Eipon steps out of the carriage and,
seated under a canopy, receives their homage.

At BaUipalli station, which is situated in the
midst of a jungle, and has a bad name from tlie
frequent visits of tigers, we are made to ahglit in
order to see two cages of soUd masonry, provided
with a strong grating, and built at the extremities
of the station, not for wild beasts, but to serve
as cabins for the pointsmen.

At nightfall a grand reception awaited us at
Cuddapah station, wliich was profusely decorated
in accordance with the taste of the country. A band
was playing, nautch-girls were dancing, and there
was a large crowd of people. Mixing among tliem,
I soon perceived that I was the only European of
the party there, when a warning was brought to
me that I must avoid contact with crowds on ac-
count of the diseases then prevalent in the country,
such as cholera and especially small-pox. I lost no
time in jjettinff back into tlie train.

This morning, at Wadi station, tlie first on
Hyderabad territory, the Viceroy was received by
two great personages who had been sent to meet
him — the ' Peshkar,' uncle and brother-in-law of
the Nizam, a decrepit old man, who was lost in
his uniform laced in Turkish fashion, and a young
man, a big fat youth of nineteen, with a supercihous

VOL. I. F F

434

INDIA

[part IV.

air, who also wore tlie costume of an Ottoman
diplomat and spoke English fluently. This was
the eldest son of Sir Salar Jung, the Nizam's prime
minister, who for many years was the real ruler of
the country, and who befriended the English at the
time of the Mutiny. He died last year. His son,
notwithstanding his youth, is a candidate for his
father's post. Tliis great question of tlie appoint-
ment of the Diwan is to be settled during the
Viceroy's visit.

We are now fairly on tlie tableland of tlie
Deccan, a vast plain, as far as the eye can reach.
There are a few tanks and rice-fields ; some herds of
cattle whose leanness is in keeping with the parched
and arid character of the soil ; people in tatters,
and huts to match. Wliat a difference between this
and British India ! The country, almost entirely
destitute of trees, reminds me of certain parts of the
Karst in Austria, but the nearer we approach the
capital the more broken it becomes, and ends by
being really picturesque. The blocks of basalt that
crown some isolated mounds have the appearance
of fortified castles, and the same resemblance is
repeated, as far as the eye can reach, over the vast
open expanse.

About five o'clock in the afternoon we reach
the station. The Nizam receives the Viceroy under
a magnificent tent and accompanies him to the

CHAP. II.]

MADRAS

435

'arriage.

On the way we see, standing iipriglit
and motionless, some young men who represent
the idols of Hindoo mythology. Their faces are
either gilt or varnished blue, green, or red. Tliey
are like so many statues. The deception would
be complete were it not for the rolling of their big
black eyes. These divinities in flesli and bone im-
pressed me much. I am told that this spectacle is
only seen on the most solemn occasions. Lately
one of these gilt idols fell down dead ; the action
of his skin had been stopped by the coating on
his face and body. Poor fellow ! he had been too
richly gilt.

Some of the Nizam's carriages convey Lord and
Lady Eipon and their party to Bolaram, where
stands the country house of the Resident. His
usual dwelling is an imposing palace, built in the
ItaUan style, and copied from the Viceroy's palace
at Calcutta. It is situated in the suburb of Chad-
dargat, outside the walls of the capital. From
Bolaram to Hyderabad is a distance of twelve
miles.

( '

This stay at Bolaram has an essentially mili-
tary character Here are gathered together with
the troops Sir Donald Stewart, Commander-in-
Chief of the Indian army ; Sir Frederick Roberts,

P F 2

436

INDIA

[part IV.

commander of the army of Madras; Colonel Key,
Commandant of the ' Subsidiary Force ; ' and
General Cough, commanding tlie Hyderabad Con-
tingent ; all with their wives and stafT. I hail witli
lively pleasure t^.e arrival of the Governor of
Madras and ^'[rs. Grant Duff. There is an un-
broken succession of lunches, dinners, fireworks,
and reviews. Under two magnificent tents lent
by the Nizam, the Peslikar, who, however, never
appears, keeps open table ; and in the sumptuous
mess-room of the Contingent ^lie Resident gave a
banquet to the Viceroy and the young prince. Tlie
morning is given up to visiting ; all is perpetual
movement. Next to the military, the ladies, of
course, are most conspicuous. There are, indeed,
some cases of cholera in the cantonments and
many in Hyderabad, but they excite no attention.
The culinary part of the entertainments is en-
trusted to the great Signor Pelliti, an Italian con-
fectioner at Calcutta and Simla. This extraor-
dinary man arrived in India a few years ago with
a minimum of luggage, but happily he did not
forc^et to brincf with him his fertile mind and his
skill and energy, and he is now very wealthy. To
supply day after day, in the heart of the Deccan,
an unknown number of guests with repasts worthy
of a Chevet is certainly a proof of genius of the
first order. I was about to introduce myself to

CHAP. 11.]

MADRAS

437

this great Yatel, who is too clever and too sensible
ever to throw himself upon his sword, wlien lie
graciously forestalled me and revealed the ingenious
arrangement which enabled him to procure, at
the right moment, from Calcutta, JJombay, and
England, the provisions required to satisfy so
distinguished a company.

Notliing can be prettier and more animated than
Main Street, the principal thoroughfare of tlie
temporary camj) near Bolaram : a multitude of
s})lendid tents which accommodate the guests of the
Nizam. I am most comfortably lodged in a bunga-
low occuj)ied by the Commander-in-Chief of tlio
Indian army. Almost everyone is cheerful and
in good spirits. However, there are serious and
anxious faces there too. Along with all this mili-
tary pomp and worldly pleasure a little drama is
being enacted in earnest.

The Viceroy's visit to Ilyd^^rabad, wliere none
of his predecessors have ever set foot, is considered
a great event. And, indeed, from the extent of
his territory and the number of his subjects, as
well as from his financial and military resources,
the Nizam ranhs first among the feudatory j)rinces
of India. The geographical situation of liis States,
in the centre of the peninsula, adds to his iniport-

438

INDIA

[I'ART 11

aiice. According to the highest military authorities,
he could at any moment become the arbiter of the
destinies of the Indian Empire. The history of the
Mutiny in 1857 supplies a negative proof of thiy.
The great State of Hyderabad ntvt^r took any ])art
in tliat revolt, and thus in Centrtd India tran([uillity
was never for a moment disturbed. Had this not
been the case, it is tiie general opinion that tlie
rising would have spread over all the Deecan, the
former Mahratta States, the Carnatic and Mysore,
and have extei.Jed to the southernmost point of
the peninsula. The English troops would have
been forced to vacuate the interior and con(;en-
trate in the capitals of the Presidencies. India
would have had to be reconquered.

The merit of this abotention of the Nizam
during the crisis of 1857 was due to Mir Turab Ali
Muktar Ool Moolk, the virtual ruler of the State,
who is better known in Europe under the name of
Sir Salar Jung.

These almost contemporary events are more or
less present to everyone's memory, and are to be
found, if looked for, in all history books. Never-
theless, I like to hear events narrated by eye-wit-
nesses — especially when these eye-witnesses add to
tlie weight of their experience a profound knowledge
of the country and its leading men.

' The Nizam's State,' I am told, ' is very ex-

CHAP. II.]

MADRAS

439

teiisive ; it occupies a lar^^e part of the central
region.s of the Deccan. West of the city of Hyder-
abad the country is (hit and far from fertile ;
eastwai J, some hundred miles from the capital,
begin magniticent forest,*- of immense extent. The
population is still little more than eleven millions,
and the country, considering its great area, seems
scantily peopled. At the begiiming of this century
Hyderabad was a prey to anarchy. The pred.itory
hordes of the Pindarris had invaded the territory.
They massacred the people, burned the crops, and
devastated the land. The Nizam being powerless
to defend himself, three English armies advanced
into his dominions and restored order and tran-
quillity. It was then, in 1818, that a treaty was
concluded with that prince, which regulated his
future relations with the Enghsh Government ; in
other terms, the former, in return for the services
rendered by England, relinquished part of his
sovereign rights. The Nizam and most of the
- abobs, or great nobles, many of whom were
allied by blood to the reigning family, are Mussul-
mans, but the immense majority of tlie people have
remained Hindoo.

' For thirty years the government was directed
by the prime minister, Sir Salar Jung. The
nabobs endeavoured to get the power in their
hands, but Salar always managed to keep them at

I I

440

INDIA

[I'AKT IV.

ji (listaiK^e. Tliose iiohles liavo never received any
ediKJation, and arc; in(;aj)al)le(>fni)VL'rnin^^ — a matter
whicli, in tlie |)ul)lie interest, is to he regretted, if
only for tlie reason that the lar^^e estates in their
})Ossession would serve, if necessary, as j)led^'es for
tlieir fidelity. Corruption, arbitrary rule, and the
utter absence of Justice were formerly the charac-
teristic features of the government. Salar Jung,
himself a man of integrity, did much to better tliis
state of things, but was unable to eilect any serious
reforms. The court of Hyderabad was, and still
is, a hotbed of intrigue. ])uring the last year or
two the spirit of innovation or imitation of things
European has begun to show itself, and some of
the nabobs are giving their sons an English edu-
cation.

'Sir Salar Jung instinctively foresaw, from the
moment of the outbreak of the Mutiny, the final
triumph of the Enghsh arms. For tliat reason he
declared himself on our side, and by preserving,
not without dilTiculty and danger, this friendly
attitude, rendered signal service to England. But
he never liked us. His conduct in the Berar
business j)lainly showed this. The Indian Govern-
ment, more than thirty years ago, judged it neces-
sary to take over the management of this province
of the Nizam, but without i)roclaiming its formal
annexation, and since then have administered it as

CHAV. II.]

MADRAS

44 J

if it fornicd part of tlic Hritish dominions, lienii-,
wliich under our ruK,' is tninquil, prospc'.'Uis, and
<'ontcnted, oH't'r.s a strikin*^' contrast, by the coni-
]){irativo wcaltli of its inlial)itants, to the miserable
conditiori of the subjects of the Xizam.

* Tlie cause or j)retext of the (bsj^ruised but none
tlie less real amiexation is as follows : 'i'he Nizam
had been saved in 1818 by our armed intervention.
After our three divisions had evacuated his territory
he saw himself menaced again, and it was then,
at his recpiest, and on the condition, which lie
never fulfilled, of his providinj^ their pay, that a
corps of British troops, called the Hyderabad Con-
tinjj^ent, was placed at his disposal. The Nizam failinj,'
to keep his engagement, Berar was ceded toJiritisii
management in 1853. The revenue of this province
serves to cover the expenses of the Contingent and
of administration, and the surplus balance is given
back to the Nizam. Sir Salar Jung, throughout his
long career as prime minister, or rather during the
thirty years of his su})reme and absolute power,
was engrossed with one idea — the recovery of
Berar. For this purpose he came to England in
187G. lie was received, feted, and treated with the
lionours usually conferred on none but Princes of
the Blood ; but in regard to the business Avhich had
brought him, he was referred back to the decision
of the Viceroy. Iteturning to India with an over-

IHVB

442

INDIA

[part IV.

weenii.g opinion of liis importance, his demands
as to Berar became more exacting than ever, and
Ids relations with Calcutta perceptibly strained.
However, thanks to Lord Eipon's intervention, a
favourable change seemed to be working in his
mind when, last year, the cholera carried him off
after a few hours' illness.

' Sir Salar Jung was a nabob in the highest
sense of the term. He was open-handed, more than
a spendthrift in fact, was constantly building, and
though his revenue amounted to 120,000/., he left
about a million pounds of debts.

' After the death of this statesman a Council of
Regency was instituted, consisting of four great
nabobs, one of whom is young Salar Jung, his
eldest son. He has spent some years in England,
is very popular here with the young natives,
and, what is more, enjoys the friendship of the
Nizam. It is supposed to have been at the advice
of the regents that last winter, at the time of the
Exhibition, the prince came with his high officials
Lo Calcutta and requested the Viceroy to grant
him his investiture at Hyderabad and choose for
him a prime minister.'

It is to satisfy this double request that Lord
Ripon is now here.

The prime minister has the whole of the ad-
ministrative power in his hands. The Nizam reigiis

is
I

ipp

CBAP. II,]

MADRAS

443

but does not govern, and his cliief officer is tliere-
fore an extremely important personage. Lord
Eipon had to choose among four candidates, all of
them unsuitable— one from his infirmity, another
on account of his incapacity, tlie third from his
too notorious reputation, and the fourth from his
youth. But as youth is a failing which every day
corrects, and as the Nizam supported the candi-
dateship of this embryo statesman, the Viceroy
decided in his favour, and Salar Jung, junior, nine-
teen years of age, the late prime minister's son, Avas
appointed to succeed his father. It is said that, in
order to give this young man time to become
qualified for the post, the Nizam was advised to
postpone for some years the appointment, and that
he replied, 'But what shall 1 do in the interval.^'
He evidently understands his mission, namely, to
enjoy himself, and not to govern.

is
I

I continue to note do\/n the information which
I gathered here, and which, as showing the esti-
mates formed of facts familiar to everyone, seems
to possess some interest, not indeed for those who
know India, but for tliose who do not.

The feudatory princes rule over sixty million
souls out of the 255 millions composing the total

444

INDIA

[part IV.

population of British India.'^ The position of these
])rinces as reiiards the British Government is this :
They liave renounced tlie riglit of liokling diplo-
matic rehitions with each otlier and with foreign
powders, and also that of making war. Before 1818,
that is to say, at the time of the d .^solution of the
Mahratta Emjoire and the dethronement of tlie
Pesliwa, whose States were incorporated in Britisli
India, and before the pacification of the Hydera-
bad Slate by English arms, tlie East India Com-
pany was in theliabitof neg(jtiating and concluding

■* The moat important feudatory States, next to that of the
Nizam, are Mysore, with 5,000,000 inhahitants and a revenue of
1,000,000?. ; Baroda, with a popiilatioc of more than 2,000,000 and
a revenue of l,12;'5,O0O?., the prince of which bears the title of Gaek-
war, 'nd is a Hindoo ; and Gwalior, the Maharajah of which,
named Sindhia, is a Mahratta, and consequently a Hindoo. He
rules a population of Indian Mussulmans. Throu<,'hout his lon^ reign,
and particularly during the Mutiny, he has always been a staunch
friend of the English. The estimated population in 1875 was 2,o00,000,
and the revenue 1,200,000/. The taxes &.re moderate, brit the Maha-
rajah's agents, being imperfectly controlled, commit great extortion
with impunity. Holkar, also a Mahratta, is the ruler of Indore, and,
like Sindhia, is not a native of the country he governs. He takes care
to see that the taxes are heavy, but has the oUHcials strictly watched.
The population of Indore in 1878 was (53r),000 and the revenue in 1875
459,800/. The llajpoot Maharajahs, who are very numeroiis, belong to
the same race as their subjects, whom they treat as members of their
family ; hence the great attachment of the people to their princes.
Eighteen of the latter are placed under the control of the Agent-
general residing at Moimt Aboo. In addition to the above, there
are a large number of other feudatories scattered throughout India.
r>ut the foregoing; will cutlice to tihow the importance of this
element.

cn.vr. II.]

MADRAS

445

treaties witli these princes on a footing of perfect
equality. This period, however, is a thing of the
past. Since the events of wliicli I have just re-
minded the reader, the princes liave become tlie
vassals of the English crown, and this fact was tacitly
recognised by them when, in 1877, Queen Victoria
took the title of Empress of India. Ikit tliougli no
conventions are now signed with the feudatories, the
treaties formerly concluded still remain in force.
However, the occasions on which the Indian
Government or the princes have to appeal to them
have become extremely rare. When tlie Viceroy
and his Council deem it necessary, they exercise
their authority over the feudatory princes by en-
forcing obligations or restrictions which are not
found in existing treaties. These, for instance, are
some of their restrictions. The princes are forbid-
den to import arms of certain kinds ; they are for-
bidden to employ European officers or Civil servants
in their army or tlieir government without the
Viceroy's permission, which is seldom granted ; they
are obliged to submit to tlie regulations in force
in British India with respect to railways and the
postal service.

The restrictions thus imposed on the sovereign
rights of the feudatories are not evervwhere tlie
same. More or less libortv is left them, accordin^r
to the circumstances that have brought about the

446

INDIA

[part IV.

transformation of independent princes into dis-
guised vassals.

As a compensation for tlie sacrifices thus
demanded, her Majesty's Government have under-
taken to defend them against all aggression from
without, and, in case of rebellion, against their
own subjects.

Eesidents, appointed by the Viceroy and subject
to tlie direction of the Sec >'tary of State for India,
are accredited to the co rts of these princes.
Their duty is to see that ti, , feudatories fulfil the
obligations entered into witli the Indian Govern-
ment, and to exercise a certain amount of control
over the administration of their States. They are
supervisors and councillors, and fulfil, I am told, a
regular diplomatic mission.

There are persons who think that the chiefs of
the great States, with one solitary exception, enter-
tain but little genuine and heartfelt sympathy for
England, because the Indian Government prevents
them from seizing the territories of the petty
feudatories. The latter, on the contrary, look to
the Indian Government as their natural protector
against tlieir powerful neighbours.

In regard to their mutual relations, the Viceroy,
the feudatories, and the Eesidents — especially the
last named — are occasionally placed in a difficult,
not to say a false position. It w^ould be easy

CHAP. 11.]

MADRAS

447

enough to cut tlie knot by resorting to annexation.
This would be to revert to the poUcy of Lord
Dalhousie, v:l i- h, according to my informant
(though liis opinion is strongly contested by other
authorities), was the indirect but tlie real cause of
the Mutiny of 1857. The Indian Government has
succeeded in convincing tlie })rinces of its formal
disavowal of all ulterior designs of dispossessing
them of their thrones, and lias thus obtained in-
directly a guarantee for the maintenance of the
jtatus quo and of the peace of India. If the great
princes could reasonably suspect the Indian Go-
vernment of harbouring fresh projects of annexa-
tion, they would again begin to conspire among
each other, and the weakest of them, now attached
by motives of interest to England, would endeavour
to save themselves by passing over in season to
the camp of their stronger brethren. Tlie con-
tingency of a European war, in which England
was involved, might in that case, but only on the
supposition that a policy of annexation had been
on e more adopted, become the signal for a new
rebellion.

The Nizam keeps up a numerous army, but
the great ' Uinaras ' also liave troops of their own.
Ko link or general command connects these small
forces with those of the prince. Each of these

INDIA

[part IV.

■'Ill

m
ll'Vi

luibobs has liis infantry, cavalry, and artillery,
and, notwithstanding the prohibition, a good
number of European condottieri^ for tlie most part
low-class adventurers, serve under tlie difTerent
standards of the grandees of the State. It is plainly
an organisation for civil war at any moment. The
Nizam's cantonments swarm witli women and
cliildren. Every soldier is entitled to lodge there
his wife, motlier, grandmotlier, if alive, and his
sisters-in-law. Among these troops are some
European officers, English and otliers, who serve
with the Viceroy's consent, and a large number of
' pAirasians.' This is the term applied in India to
the descendants of a European fatlier and a native
mother. They have intermarried for generations,
and form an element of some importance. Their
disposition is admittedly fickle, but people are
])erhaps wrong in ascribing to them the defects,
without the good qualities, of the two races. They
are all Christians, and mostly Eoman Catholics.
The Goa element is strongly represented among
them.

I have already spoken of the Subsidiary Force
and the Hyderabad Contingent, cantoned at
Bolaram and Sikanderabad, and forminsf a total of
from five to six thousand men. These cantonments,
with those at Bangalore and Poona, are the most
important and the best constructed in India. In

criAP. II ]

MADRAS

449

tlie centre stands a small f(^rt, the ' Zwing Ui'i ' oi^
Hyderabad.

)Ucs.

orce
at
|al of
lents,
Imost
III

This moniiiiir the Xizani came to Bolarani to
])ay a visit to tlie Vicerc»y. The diui)ar was lield
in a hall of the Ivesidenev, oneninLT on to a flight
of steps before which the carriages drew up. At
the appointed houi- the ])rince arrived in a yellow
English carriage di'awn by four horses, with harness
of the sanie colour, which is that of the reigning
family. His suite was composed of several nobles,
among them the members of the Council of Regency,
all four of whom are candidates for the place of
prime minister. They wore embroidered uniforms,
their head-dress alone was oriental.

The Viceroy, who Avas in morning dress but
decorated with his Order, received his guest at the
entrance of the hall, took his seat on a silver chair
with gold ornaments, and placed the Xizam on his
riglit u})on a seat lower than his own, and alsr; of
silver but without L^old. The nobles took their
place on the right of their prince. jMr. I)urand,
the Secretary of the Foreign Dep; . tment at Calcutta,
the commandants of the Sul)sidiary Force and the
Hyderabad Contingent, together with the officers
and other secretaries, on the left of Lord Ripon.

The Nizam is only seventeen and a half years
old, and is already the father of a son and two

VOL. I. G G

450

INDIA

[PAIM' IV.

(Ijiii^liters. Tie has a dark ('()iiij)loxi()n, ivii;uliii'
features, and a vacant, meaainuless expression.
Hisloiij^f black liair falls down over the nape of his
neck with a natural curl at th*' end. X conversa-
tion between the Viceroy and ])riiice, consisting oi'
a few commonplaces exchanged in an audible tone,
lasted only a few minutes. To whatever Loixl
Kipon said, the Nizam replied with a simple 'yes.'
This is a good beginning for both parties, and it
will be well if all continues so. The nobles and
gentlemen of his suite were then ])resented. Tliey
passed one by one before the Viceroys chair,
bowing as they went by, the old ones ])rofoundly,
the young ones slightly, and all of them oilering
to him the hilt of their sword, which, according
to the custom of the country, he touched with
his Iiug(!r9- Attar and paw7i^ wei'c then served to
|^^em, and the ceremony closed.

At length the great day, February 5, ai'rived.
It was a hard task for Lord William Beresford,
the military secretary, and during this journey the
Master of the Ceremonies to the Viceroy, to organise
the corthje which was to go in solemn state to the

•^ The worA paiim (the betel leaf) is generally used for the com-
i>inatian of betel, areca nut, lune, &c., which is politely offered (alon;^
with otto of roses) io visitors, and which intimates the termination
of the visit. (Colonel Yu]« "s Glossary.)

riiAr. Ti.]

MADRAS

451

lived.
Iforci,

the
laiiise

the

|e com-

(alona
Ination

city of ITy(]erii])a(l. In the eyes of Easterns the
slijxhtest l)reach of tlie rules of eti({iiette is eoii-
sulei'ed a want of respect, if not an insuU. ; but
everythinix ])assc(l od'to ])ei'feetion.

At nine o'clock in the morning" the Vicerc^y, with
all his suite, left Hohirani. 'Hie generals and the
Governor of ]\[adras jircceded him in state-coaches,
followed by the carria<(es of their secretaries and
aides-de-camp.

The grand durbar was held at the palace in an
immense hall with a double transverse nave. The
Nizam's troops, drawn u]) in ecludon in tlu> garden,
and visible through the numerous semicircular
gateways that led to it, were a really magnilicent
sight. Behind the garden, a large mosrpie and
other Moorish buildings formed the background
of the picture. I had been told that Hyderabad
was the type of an Indian cit}', but it looked to me
just like another Cairo ; hence, in spite of the
splendour of the s])ectacle, T experienced a slight
disappointment. There were not even any ele-
phants ! And yet the prince possesses a large
number of them ; but in Juirope they are only seen
in menageries, and not at fetes and reviews, and
here Europe, though not liked, is co])ied. In fact,
it was not India at all ; it was rather I'Vypt '"^'^d the
Khedive in prtK'ess of assimilation to imperfectly
understood European models. I must say the

U <l L'

452

INDIA

[PAKT IV.

same of tlic ai)j)carau('(' ofllic ii()l)l(s. At tlio cud
of the liall, in fi-oiit of a kind of alcove, wiTe seen
seated side In* side the A'icc oy in full iiiiifoi'in and
the Nizam bcdizeni-d with jewels. Amonu' the
liiixli diii'iiitaries, the youiiii' Salar Juii<;' alreatly
Of!(.'ii])ied the ])lac'e of honoui", and his I'ival can-
didates wei'e unable to disguise their chaui'in. Tlie
Viceroy I'ose with the ])iince and the whole as-
send)ly, and, amid deep silence, read a long state-
iiieut which seemed to nie remarkable from more
than one ])oint of view. It was the soyerelj^ni
s])cakinsj; to his vassal, the father to his son. The
Kizani looked r.ervous ; he was })robably thinking
less about the words he heard than about those he
himself would have to say. He spoke in a low
voice, and the paper shook in his hands, but
gradually he recovered his self-possession, and
seemed thoroughly happy when he came to the
end of his maiden speech. Mr. Durand then read
a Persian translation of Lord Iiipon's address,
wdiich the nabobs listened to with evident atten-
tion.

When the reading was finished, the Viceroy
handed a sword of honour to the prince, and
buckled it on with his own hands; he then give
others to the young premier, to the Peshkar, and
to Shamsu'l Umara respectively. After this the
' attar' and ' pawn ' were served, and the durbar,

en A I". II.]

>r.\DRAS

453

which hii<] hocn conduct, .(1 uitli oTandciir, wa^
over. It h.id K'lstcd al)()iir an hour.

In tlie evcnino- T paid a second visit to Ilydei--
««^)ad. Tliis time it was to bo present at the I,an-
quet oiven l,y the Nizam, and to see the <n-and
illumination, nldch costs I know not how many lacs
of rupees ; tlie sum named to me seemed fabulous.
I shall not attempt to oive an account of this fete
The Duke .of Wellington once replied to a person
who asked liim for materials to describe one of his
l)attle.s, 'A battle cannot be described, any more
than a ball ; ' and I will add, no more can an illu-
mination wliich extends over an area of some ton
sqnare miles. The sp,.cta,Ie displayed before us
when our carriage had . leared the last h,n.ses of
Sikanderabad, on the >ide towards the capital
transported us into fairyhmd. Along the road, on'
the river Musi, and on the tanks—in front, on each
side, and all around—were large lamps like Venetian
lanterns. The full moon strove in vain to compete
Avith this dazzling sea of lire. Outside the town
the crowd formed a compact mass. Inside it, with
the exception of the people at the windows and
on the house-tops, the streets were completely
empty. In the squares and near the C'hai- .Afinar,
whose four graceful and slender minarets shot

IMAGE EVALUATION
TEST TARGET (MT-3)

1.0

I.I

2.5
2.2

11.25 i 1.4

%^/

> >

>•

//a

Photographic

Sciences

Corporation

-- «*

>' 4^'U '^v

^^V^.

23 WEST MAIN STREET

WEBSTER, N.Y. 14980

(716) 872-4503

^^'

454

IV) like jet.s of fli

TXI)IA

imo In

rpAnr

lo ni(t

lit skv. the

sjjectators were crowded back behind barriers.
This precaution had been judged necessary bj' the
j)()lice of the Nizam, wliose capital attracts crimi-
nals from all parts of India. In many places it
was therefore a popular fete, without the people.
All these lamps had been lighted at the will of the
ruler, and at his will his subjects Avere forbidden
to see them. Truly an incident worthy of the
Arabian Nights !

None but Aladdin could have decorated the
])alace, and it is not out of mere empty com])li-
meiit to him that I honestly avow I have never
seen anything like it. The JStuwers at Vienna, the
managers of the fetes of the Trocadero at Paris,
and of the Crystal Palace at London, would bow
respectfully before his Wonderful Lamp. Such a
wealth of invention, and combined with such pei'-
fect sim])licity ! What taste and what exquisite per-
ception of colouring ! Look at that piece of water
surrounded with marble balustrades and borders of
llowers, those grand trees in the garden, and that
la^ade of the i)alace, with its Moorish arcades !
Aladdin has there displayed tints of pearly wliite-
ness. Trees, llowers, all — even the motley crowd
of Euroi)eans, nabobs, and the officers and ser-
vants of the prince, look as if they were sculptured
in silver. The vault of heaven, by way of con-

CHAP. II.]

MADRAS

455

trast, IS Ijlack. iiotwitlistaiulino- t,l,e light of tlie
lull moon. Ascend the ste])8 leading to the liallof
the durbar, and you will see this magic design, in
silver and black, reflected in tlie ^\ater of tlie^'tank.
In another courtyard, in the centre of the palace,
you are dazzled by a blaze of many-coloured
lires. In a third, ymi can go into raptures over
a display of rockets and other lireworks which,
if anything, are too suggestive of Europe. But'
the whole seemed to me like a di-eam. I heard
even old Anglo-Indians, who are sated with such-
like nuirvels, give vent to niurmui-s of admiration
at the scene.

The banquet was held in a long gallery of the
])alace. Three hundred persons sat down round
three long tables. Among the guests were several
English ladies and a large number of nabobs and
iiigh dignitaries of Hyderabad. I should have ])re-
ferred to see these magnates, in true Mussulman
style, eating with their fingers from large dishes
of solid silver, instead of using plates of EngHsh
(tiiina and handling, as they did very skilfully
however, their electro-plated knives and forks.
Ikit they have begun quite recently to initiate
their c/iej:^ into our mysteries of cooking, and give
each other dinners quite in European style, ft is
through the medium of cookery that they intend to
enter tlie great cai-avansaiy known as the civilised

456

INDIA

[part IV,

•world. Those among thoni wlio liold titles in virtue
of their relationship to tlie prince wore, like him,
on their raps a golden diadem set with diamonds.
As the banquet was prolonged far into the night, I
was able to study at leisure tlie fare of the Nizam.
He has an interesting look, and notwitlistanding his
extreme youtli and a certain air of embarrassment,
which cannot be timidity, and in spite also of a taci-
turnity that seems to be innate, he appeared to me
what in fact he is, a great potentate.**

1 breakfasted with Mr. and Mrs. Grant Dufl',
who occupy a country house near Bolaram, built
by the late Sir Salar Jung. It is a pretty Italian
villa with some fine rooms, containing copies of
famous pictures by Eaphael and Titian and other
great Italian masters, a portrait of Garibaldi, and
in the garden some marble copies of ancient
statues ! I am at a loss to account ibr the psycho-
logical meaning of this strange fact : here are meri
who dislike Europeans, and who nevertheless ins-
tate tliem ! It is certainly not tlie taste for nor the
appreciation of art that induces tliem to pay
large sums of gold for such commonplace daubs.

^ A short time after his installation he had an attack of cjjolera
which endanKered his life.

CHAP. IT.]

MADRAS

457

Imitation is a ('(^nfos.sion oi'iiifci-iority of persons wlio
wish to rise to the level of tiieir .superiors. This
is a natural, nay, a praiseworthy feelinL^ and it is,
under thecircuni.stance.s, a very favourable synij)toni
for the masters of India. But, then, what is tln'
object of foi- ever repeatin«r to them and teaching-
them in your colleges, that they are your etjuals ?
They f«^el that they are not so, but you will entl
perhap.s by })ersuading them that they are.

Here, in India, the half-hour just before and
just after the dawn has an indescribable charm. I
stroll by my.self a{)()ut the environs of Jiolaram. A
red ball is rising above the horizon. Elephants
loaded with provisions pass by, throwing their huge
long shadows on the plain. The uiorning breeze
brings to me, with the scent of the thickets, the
sounds, mellowed by the distance, of military music
which is salutiu<^ the risintr sun.

I climb an eminence, whence the eye commands
an immense tract. It is all ]/at of the undulating,
rock-strewn plain of the Deccan. Westward you
see the heights of Golconda. J^lsewhere, in all
directions, the horizon stretches fw away, blends
with the sky, and vanishes. The same leading fea-
tures are repeated: low rocks. b()r(lerin<^ ravines

458

INDIA

[pari IV.

or crowning isolated monnds. You would take
thcni for.strongliolds, columns, menhirs, or dolmens.
The dark lines and dots which vou see are trees — •
tamarinds, banyans, the peepuls or sacred fig-trees
nt" the Hindoos, grouped in quincunces or planted in
rows along the macadamised roads that traverse
ilie steppe, which at tliis early morning hour is
lii>ht brown, but whi(;li will resume its dust-coloured
tints as the sun draws near tlie zenith. Far away
some white lines are seen, the tents of the tempo-
rary camp and tiie enclosure-walls of the bungalows
)ccupied by tlie oflicers of the two auxiliary corps.

The unhealthiness of the climate and the scanti-
ness of wate." led, about the end of the sixteenth
century, to the abandonment of the ancient capital
of Golconda. It was replaced by Hyderabad, built
in 1089 at a distance of eiuht miles farther east,
(lolconda, which is now a heap of ruins, presents no
object of interest exce])t a few tombs. The same
cannot be said of the new capital of the Nizam,
to which, however, it is not easy to obtain admission.
A pass is required for this purpose from the British
Resident, and an elephant, or at least a carriage
with an escort. This regulation is explained and
justified by the unfriendly disposition K^i the popu-

CHAP, n.j

MADRAS

459

lation, e.siK'c'ially of the mmierous ii(Uontiirers <.{'
L'very kind wjjo inJ'est ihu town, and by thu trouhK'
wliicli any unroward incident nii^^lit occasion the
Indian GovcrnnuMit. It was the eve of our departure
Irom Bolarani, and one of my new friends and my-
self burned willi curiosity to see this inaccessible'
city, of which we knew nothing- but tlie ])alace an<l
tiie neighbouiing streets. Not havino- had time to
ask for a pass and an elephant, we determined to
dispense with both, and, piloted by a Eurasian,
got within the city walls in a small carriage and
without escort. During our drive, wliich lasted
two hours, not a soul molested us.

Hyderabad, as a Avhole, strikes me by its
modern Indo-Moorish character, and, like the
Nizam's palace, resembles certain quarters of Cairo.
Nothing can be more graceful and also inrposing
tlian the four minarets of the Char Minar, con-
nected by a magnificent arched ]-oof which cover.s
a platform surrounded by balustrades, at the s])ot
where the two princi])al thoroughfares of the city
intersect eacli otlier. Along these streets, past the
two-storied houses, all built after the same pattern,
with i-ed-plastered walls and windows with green
blinds, comes streaming, struggling, and jostling a
crowd of Hindoos, Mussulmans, Afghans, Abyssi-
nians, slovenly-looking sold ers, dervishes and fakirs
whose fanaticism, whether real or pretended, i^

460

INDIA

[I'.VRT IV.

<1epi<*to(l oil tlieir liideous faces. Far off, above tlie
i'al)l>le, a l)la<'k object, followed by <)tliei's of the
same kind, excites oiii* ciu'iosity. It resembles tlie
swayiii.u" liead, maunified to colossal proportions, of
a Mandarin, with his black skull-cap crowned by a
pink button. Or can it be the hood of a Venetian
ijondola, adcn-ned with a red ])lume in defiance of
the laws of La Serenissima 8i<jnoria, or perhaps the
shell of a boat whi(;h is being roughly tossed about
by these human billows? Xo ; these objects are
elephants, ridden by nabobs who are going to the
palace. Long files of camels, attached to a single
rope, and with outstretched necks and noses in the
air, knock against bullock-cars, or rathel* kiosks,
set on two huge wheels and filled with Mahometan
ladies on their round of visiting. The gaudy-
<'olourod curtains, though apparently shut close, do
not prevent the inmates from seeing outside, but
screen them from the inquisitive gaze of passers by.
Gentlemen, attired with care, are being carried in
palanquins, stretched out in a nonchalant manner,
or sitting on their heels. They seem absorbed in
conteini)lating the white wreaths of smoke that
curl from their cJtibouque.'<. Everyone is armed,
even the shopkeepers. We are stopped on the
threshold of tlie graceful* Mecca mosque. Lu-
])ossible to gain admittance and pray at the tombs
of the Xizams.

CHAP. II.]

MADRAS

461

In tlie qinirters remote fi'oiii tlie ceilre the jip-
])earanee of tlie town eliaiiL^cs. There, iiiste.'id of
aiiiiiiation,is silence and solitude. The iiiliahitaiits
are in ra<is, the dwellin<rs poor and s(iuali(i, the
shops are like caverns, and the ])alaces of some
grandees more or less (lihi])idated ; and in the
midst of dirt and ruins stands a larue brand-
new house, built in debased ^toorish stvle. This
does not surprise me. From Avhat I have heart!
and been able to see throu^zhout India, both
Hindoo and Mussulman taste and art are in full
decline.

The sun was settinj? behind the heiirhts of
Golconda when we beat a reti-eat, havinii' to hurry
back to the liesident's banquet at Jiolaram ; the
time for sayini^ good-bye had come, and, in my
case, for thanking those who had shown me- so
much kindness. To-morrow morning there is a
general break-up, and next day all these fine tents
will have disappeared. Nothing will then remain
of this brilliant assemblage and of all these fetes,
except the recollections of a fiiiry tale, and as living
realities the Nizam with his prime minister, and
the Resident with the Subsidiary Force and the Hy-
derabad Contingent. J3ut no : something more
will remain ; there will remain the fact, worthy to
be engraven m the annals of this immense Empire,
and which will mark, moreover, in history the

462

INDIA

[I'AIIT IV.

.•idmiiiisti'ation ni' I.oid Rijxni — (Ik. iinpreci'doiited
and siLjiiilicaiit fjict of the investiture ^jniiited to
lln' most iH)\vorl'ul of tlic native princes by tlie
liands of the re[)resenlative of the Knipress of
bidia.

ESI) OF THH I'iUST VO|,LMi:.

I'lMNTM) l;V

sroTTlswn.iD:: ami m.. M.:\v.,-TnicET sqi-ahk

UtXUO.V

MK. :N[ UU RAY'R

SERIES OF POPULAR TRAVELS AND ADVENTURES,

(.'oimitifiiii/ of h'ufti/i/in/ird Wur/m, trt'tl /irinfn/, on i/umi jxi/ii r.

Each complete in One Volume, post 8vo. price 7s. 6d.
LOKD UUFFKIIIN'S i. HTTK IIS from HKill LATITIJDKS:

AN AtCOlNT of II Ya( lir V(»V\c;K to It'KI,ANI», .I.VN MaYKN, lltul Si !!,<•

iiKKtiKN. With 'il IlliiMtrtitiuns.

CAPT. (JILL'S 'TIIM HlVKlt of GOLDKX SAND.' A

Nahhativk of II Joi ijyKY through China to i{l'l^MAll. With Mi-moii'
by Col. Yri.K, C.U. With I'ortruit. .Map, iiiid Illustrifions

Mil. F. L. JAMES' 'TIIK WILD TIUHKS of tho SOUDAN.'

Cfiraptr Kitition. With a I'hkkatohv Ciiaitku on Kiivktoim and tho
SoruAN by !Sir Samiki, Hakkk. With Map aiiil 2(» llhistratioiiH.

SIR HKNRi^ LAYARD'S NINKVEII iind it.s RI<:MAINS.
Map and 112 Illustrations.

SIRUENRY LAYARD'S NINEVEH ami BABYLON. Map

and l.OO Illustrations.

SIR LEOPOLD McCLINTOCK'S VOYAGE of tlio 'FOX'
iutho ARCTIC SKAS in SKAUCIf of FKANIvLIN and his COM-
rANION.S Maps and 30 Illustrations.

SIR FRANCIS HEAD'S BUHBLES from the BRUNNEN

of NAS.SAU. With 18 Illu.strations.

HON. ROBERT CURZOX'S VISITS to tho MONASTERIES

of thu LKVANT. With IH Illustrations.

DR. LIVINGSTONE'S '"'RAVELS and ADVENTURES in

AFRICA, 1840-54. Map ami 32 Illustrations.

DR. LIVINGSTONE'S 'ZAMBESI ami its TRIBUTARIES,'

1808-64. Map and 34 Illustrations.

DR. PORTER'S FIVE YEARS in DAMASCUS, withTiiAVKis

in Palmyka, Lkiianon, and the Giant Crriia of Uashan and thk
IIadhan. W^ith 18 Illustrations.

MR. JOHN MCGREGOR'S 'ROB ROY' on the JORDAN,
NILE, RED SKA, GKNNI'LSARHTII. 8 Maps and 70 Illustrations.

MR. MANSFIELD PARKYNS' LIFE in ABYSSINIA.

Maps and 30 Illustrations.

MR. H. W. BATES' NATURALIST on the RIVER

AMAZON. With 22 Illustrations.

CAPT. MUSTERS' 'AT HOME with the PATAGONIANS' ;

from theSTKAiTsof MAOKi.r.ANtotlioRioNKouo. Map and lOlllnstnitions.

MISS BIRD'S SIX MONTHS AMONG the PALM GROVES,
CORAL RKEFS, and VOLCANOES of thu SANDWICH ISLANDS.
With 12 Illustrations.

MISS BIRD'S LIFE in the ROCKY MOUNTAINS. With

8 Illustrations.

MISS BIRD'S UNBEATEN TRACKS in JAPAN ; including
Visits to Yczo and the Shrines of Nikko and Ise. Map uud ilhibi rations.

^^l'. Ml'KRAV's Scrii-'i (if Poj)itlar Trivch avif A Icroturfit.

THE BRITISH COLONIES.

Till- WKSTKUN PACIFIC and NKW Ca'INKA. With

N»)iKi:s of till- Nmivks, Ciiuim IAN luid Cannihai,, urul mtinc AccoiNr
of tlio Oil) Lmiui K Tkmik. \\y III iii IIastinos I^l^flI.| y, ht'piity-
CitriimiMsioiicr of tlio Westi-rii Paeillc. With u Mhi'. (.'rown Kvo "Js. Cuf.

The PKItSOXAL ADVMNTURKS and KXPERIKNCKS of
(I MACiiSTHATK .liirit.M; tlio IMSK. I'i^OiJHKSS, i,ml sriM'KHssinV
of til- INIHAN MITINV. By AIahk Thounuill. With FrontiHpii-ce
nnd I'lari. Crown 8vo. I2.s.

The RTUDKXT'S (IKOGUAPFIY of BIIITISH IXfHA -
I'OLITICAL .mhI I'll VSICAL. By GKoiint: .Smith. LL.T).. Aufliop of
thu ' Life of Dr. Wil.son. Dr. Duff.'&c. Maps. Post 8vo. 7s. (id.

'Vhv CiOLDKX CHKHSONKSE and the WAY THITHER.

I5y IsAHKij.A JJiKii (MrM. HiHliop). With Map and lU'iBlrationH.

Post 8v(). I 4.t.

'To .\tfTn. ntnl I.filiorp o' (Ip'at Mnfiil
Down to tlu' (iolduii C'licrsoiit'S)!.' — I'tiradise Lost, Cook xl.

WINTERS ABROAD: Somr Infoematiov respf.otino Plaoks
VisiTKi) by tlie Arriioif on account of hi* Hkaith, Intemlcd fur tlie
Uho and (uiidanee of Invalids. By R. H. Ottkr, M.A. Crowa 8vo.

PiiNTKNiN :— AisTUAT.iA : Mi'Ihoiirnc, Tiisinnnlu, Sidney, Quueuslaiul— Thk Rivehina—
Ai.uiKiw— EdYPT— CAPKor (fciou Hon; -Davos.

The JOURNAL of a LADY'S TRAVELS ROUND the

WORIil): ini'ltidinp Visits Io.Iapan, Thiukt, Yakkand, Kashmiii, .Iava,
the Stwaits of Malvcca, Vancoivkh's Isi.Ayi), &c. By F. D. BiMixiKs.
With Illustrations from Sketches by the Author. Crown 8vo. lbs.

ASIATIC STUDIES -RELIGIOUS and SOCIAL. By Sir
Alfkkd C. Lyall, K.C.B. Second Edition. Svo. IG^'.

RELIGIOUS THOUGHT and LIFE in INDIA. An Account

of the RnuoioNSof the Indian Pkoplks, based on a Life's .Study of tlioir
Litcnituro. By Monikk Williams M.A.. Prof, of Sanskrit at Oxford.
Parti. Vkoism, Buahmanism, and Hinouism. Second Edition. Svo. 18s.

ORIENTAL EXPEPvIENCE: a Sklection of Essays and
AonuKSSES delivered on Various Occasions. By Sir Richard Temple,
Bfirt., M.P., D.C.L, and LL.D. With Woodcuts and Maps. Svo. IGs.

JOHN MURRAY', Albemarle Street.