The house of Faamuina stands on a knoll in the MALAE.
Thither we mounted, a boy ran out and took our horses, and we
went in. Faamuina was there himself, his wife Pelepa, three
other chiefs, and some attendants; and here again was this
exulting spectacle as of people on their marriage day.
Faamuina (when I last saw him) was an elderly, limping
gentleman, with much of the debility of age; it was a bright-
eyed boy that greeted me; the lady was no less excited; all
had cartridge-belts. We stayed but a little while to smoke a
sului; I would not have kava made, as I thought my escapade
was already dangerous (perhaps even blameworthy) enough. On
the way back, we were much greeted, and on coming to the
ford, the commandant came and asked me if there were many on
the other side. 'Very many,' said I; not that I knew, but I
would not lead them on the ice. 'That is well!' said he, and
the little picket laughed aloud as we splashed into the
river. We returned to Apia, through Apia, and out to
windward as far as Vaiala, where the word went that the men
of the Vaimauga had assembled. We met two boys carrying
pigs, and saw six young men busy cooking in a cook-house; but
no sign of an assembly; no arms, no blackened faces. I
forgot! As we turned to leave Faamuina's, there ran forward
a man with his face blackened, and the back of his lava-lava
girded up so as to show his tattooed hips naked; he leaped
before us, cut a wonderful caper, and flung his knife high in
the air, and caught it. It was strangely savage and
fantastic and high-spirited. I have seen a child doing the
same antics long before in a dance, so that it is plainly an
ACCEPTED SOLEMNITY. I should say that for weeks the children
have been playing with spears. Up by the plantation I took a
short cut, which shall never be repeated, through grass and
weeds over the horses' heads and among rolling stones; I
thought we should have left a horse there, but fortune
favoured us. So home, a little before six, in a dashing
squall of rain, to a bowl of kava and dinner. But the
impression on our minds was extraordinary; the sight of that
picket at the ford, and those ardent, happy faces whirls in
my head; the old aboriginal awoke in both of us and knickered
like a stallion.
It is dreadful to think that I must sit apart here and do
nothing; I do not know if I can stand it out. But you see, I
may be of use to these poor people, if I keep quiet, and if I
threw myself in, I should have a bad job of it to save
myself. There; I have written this to you; and it is still
but 7.30 in the day, and the sun only about one hour up; can
I go back to my old grandpapa, and men sitting with
Winchesters in my mind's eye? No; war is a huge
ENTRAINEMENT; there is no other temptation to be compared to
it, not one. We were all wet, we had been about five hours
in the saddle, mostly riding hard; and we came home like
schoolboys, with such a lightness of spirits, and I am sure
such a brightness of eye, as you could have lit a candle at!
THURSDAY 29TH.
I had two priests to luncheon yesterday: the Bishop and Pere
Remy. They were very pleasant, and quite clean too, which
has been known sometimes not to be - even with bishops.
Monseigneur is not unimposing; with his white beard and his
violet girdle he looks splendidly episcopal, and when our
three waiting lads came up one after another and kneeled
before him in the big hall, and kissed his ring, it did me
good for a piece of pageantry. Remy is very engaging; he is
a little, nervous, eager man, like a governess, and brimful
of laughter and small jokes. So is the bishop indeed, and
our luncheon party went off merrily - far more merrily than
many a German spread, though with so much less liquor. One
trait was delicious. With a complete ignorance of the
Protestant that I would scarce have imagined, he related to
us (as news) little stories from the gospels, and got the
names all wrong! His comments were delicious, and to our
ears a thought irreverent. 'AH! IL CONNAISSAIT SON MONDE,
ALLEZ!' 'IL ETAIT FIN, NOTRE SEIGNEUR!' etc.
FRIDAY.
Down with Fanny and Belle, to lunch at the International.
Heard there about the huge folly of the hour, all the Mulinuu
ammunition having been yesterday marched openly to vaults in
Matafele; and this morning, on a cry of protest from the
whites, openly and humiliatingly disinterred and marched back
again. People spoke of it with a kind of shrill note that
did not quite satisfy me. They seemed not quite well at
ease. Luncheon over, we rode out on the Malie road. All was
quiet in Vaiusu, and when we got to the second ford, alas!
there was no picket - which was just what Belle had come to
sketch. On through quite empty roads; the houses deserted,
never a gun to be seen; and at last a drum and a penny
whistle playing in Vaiusu, and a cricket match on the MALAE!
Went up to Faamuina's; he is a trifle uneasy, though he gives
us kava. I cannot see what ails him, then it appears that he
has an engagement with the Chief Justice at half-past two to
sell a piece of land. Is this the reason why war has
disappeared? We ride back, stopping to sketch here and there
the fords, a flag of truce, etc. I ride on to Public Hall
Committee and pass an hour with my committees very heavily.
To the hotel to dinner, then to the ball, and home by eleven,
very tired. At the ball I heard some news, of how the chief
of Letonu said that I was the source of all this trouble, and
should be punished, and my family as well. This, and the
rudeness of the man at the ford of the Gase-gase, looks but
ill; I should have said that Faamuina, as he approached the
first ford, was spoken to by a girl, and immediately said
goodbye and plunged into the bush; the girl had told him
there was a war party out from Mulinuu; and a little further
on, as we stopped to sketch a flag of truce, the beating of
drums and the sound of a bugle from that direction startled
us. But we saw nothing, and I believe Mulinuu is (at least
at present) incapable of any act of offence. One good job,
these threats to my home and family take away all my childish
temptation to go out and fight. Our force must be here, to
protect ourselves. I see panic rising among the whites; I
hear the shrill note of it in their voices, and they talk
already about a refuge on the war ships. There are two here,
both German; and the ORLANDO is expected presently.
SUNDAY 9TH JULY.
Well, the war has at last begun. For four or five days, Apia
has been filled by these poor children with their faces
blacked, and the red handkerchief about their brows, that
makes the Malietoa uniform, and the boats have been coming in
from the windward, some of them 50 strong, with a drum and a
bugle on board - the bugle always ill-played - and a sort of
jester leaping and capering on the sparred nose of the boat,
and the whole crew uttering from time to time a kind of
menacing ululation. Friday they marched out to the bush; and
yesterday morning we heard that some had returned to their
houses for the night, as they found it 'so uncomfortable.'
After dinner a messenger came up to me with a note, that the
wounded were arriving at the Mission House. Fanny, Lloyd and
I saddled and rode off with a lantern; it was a fine starry
night, though pretty cold. We left the lantern at Tanuga-
manono, and then down in the starlight. I found Apia, and
myself, in a strange state of flusteration; my own excitement
was gloomy and (I may say) truculent; others appeared
imbecile; some sullen. The best place in the whole town was
the hospital. A longish frame-house it was, with a big table
in the middle for operations, and ten Samoans, each with an
average of four sympathisers, stretched along the walls.
Clarke was there, steady as a die; Miss Large, little
spectacled angel, showed herself a real trump; the nice,
clean, German orderlies in their white uniforms looked and
meant business. (I hear a fine story of Miss Large - a cast-
iron teetotaller - going to the public-house for a bottle of
brandy.)
The doctors were not there when I arrived; but presently it
was observed that one of the men was going cold. He was a
magnificent Samoan, very dark, with a noble aquiline
countenance, like an Arab, I suppose, and was surrounded by
seven people, fondling his limbs as he lay: he was shot
through both lungs. And an orderly was sent to the town for
the (German naval) doctors, who were dining there. Meantime
I found an errand of my own. Both Clarke and Miss Large
expressed a wish to have the public hall, of which I am
chairman, and I set off down town, and woke people out of
their beds, and got a committee together, and (with a great
deal of difficulty from one man, whom we finally overwhelmed)
got the public hall for them. Bar the one man, the committee
was splendid, and agreed in a moment to share the expense if
the shareholders object. Back to the hospital about 11.30;
found the German doctors there. Two men were going now, one
that was shot in the bowels - he was dying rather hard, in a
gloomy stupor of pain and laudanum, silent, with contorted
face. The chief, shot through the lungs, was lying on one
side, awaiting the last angel; his family held his hands and
legs; they were all speechless, only one woman suddenly
clasped his knee, and 'keened' for the inside of five
seconds, and fell silent again. Went home, and to bed about
two A.M. What actually passed seems undiscoverable; but the
Mataafas were surely driven back out of Vaitele; that is a
blow to them, and the resistance was far greater than had
been anticipated - which is a blow to the Laupepas. All
seems to indicate a long and bloody war.
Frank's house in Mulinuu was likewise filled with wounded;
many dead bodies were brought in; I hear with certainty of
five, wrapped in mats; and a pastor goes to-morrow to the
field to bring others. The Laupepas brought in eleven heads
to Mulinuu, and to the great horror and consternation of the
native mind, one proved to be a girl, and was identified as
that of a Taupou - or Maid of the Village - from Savaii. I
hear this morning, with great relief, that it has been
returned to Malie, wrapped in the most costly silk
handkerchiefs, and with an apologetic embassy. This could
easily happen. The girl was of course attending on her
father with ammunition, and got shot; her hair was cut short
to make her father's war head-dress - even as our own Sina's
is at this moment; and the decollator was probably, in his
red flurry of fight, wholly unconscious of her sex. I am
sorry for him in the future; he must make up his mind to many
bitter jests - perhaps to vengeance. But what an end to one
chosen for her beauty and, in the time of peace, watched over
by trusty crones and hunchbacks!
EVENING.
Can I write or not? I played lawn tennis in the morning, and
after lunch down with Graham to Apia. Ulu, he that was shot
in the lungs, still lives; he that was shot in the bowels is
gone to his fathers, poor, fierce child! I was able to be of
some very small help, and in the way of helping myself to
information, to prove myself a mere gazer at meteors. But
there seems no doubt the Mataafas for the time are scattered;
the most of our friends are involved in this disaster, and
Mataafa himself - who might have swept the islands a few
months ago - for him to fall so poorly, doubles my regret.
They say the Taupou had a gun and fired; probably an excuse
manufactured EX POST FACTO. I go down to-morrow at 12, to
stay the afternoon, and help Miss Large. In the hospital to-
day, when I first entered it, there were no attendants; only
the wounded and their friends, all equally sleeping and their
heads poised upon the wooden pillows. There is a pretty
enough boy there, slightly wounded, whose fate is to be
envied: two girls, and one of the most beautiful, with
beaming eyes, tend him and sleep upon his pillow. In the
other corner, another young man, very patient and brave, lies
wholly deserted. Yet he seems to me far the better of the
two; but not so pretty! Heavens, what a difference that
makes; in our not very well proportioned bodies and our
finely hideous faces, the 1-32nd - rather the 1-64th - this
way or that! Sixteen heads in all at Mulinuu. I am so stiff
I can scarce move without a howl.
MONDAY, 10TH.
Some news that Mataafa is gone to Savaii by way of Manono;
this may mean a great deal more warfaring, and no great
issue. (When Sosimo came in this morning with my breakfast
he had to lift me up. It is no joke to play lawn tennis
after carrying your right arm in a sling so many years.)
What a hard, unjust business this is! On the 28th, if
Mataafa had moved, he could have still swept Mulinuu. He
waited, and I fear he is now only the stick of a rocket.
WEDNESDAY, 12TH.
No more political news; but many rumours. The government
troops are off to Manono; no word of Mataafa. O, there is a
passage in my mother's letter which puzzles me as to a date.
Is it next Christmas you are coming? or the Christmas after?
This is most important, and must be understood at once. If
it is next Christmas, I could not go to Ceylon, for lack of
gold, and you would have to adopt one of the following
alternatives: 1st, either come straight on here and pass a
month with us; 'tis the rainy season, but we have often
lovely weather. Or (2nd) come to Hawaii and I will meet you
there. Hawaii is only a week's sail from S. Francisco,
making only about sixteen days on the heaving ocean; and the
steamers run once a fortnight, so that you could turn round;
and you could thus pass a day or two in the States - a
fortnight even - and still see me. But I have sworn to take
no further excursions till I have money saved to pay for
them; and to go to Ceylon and back would be torture unless I
had a lot. You must answer this at once, please; so that I
may know what to do. We would dearly like you to come on
here. I'll tell you how it can be done; I can come up and
meet you at Hawaii, and if you had at all got over your sea-
sickness, I could just come on board and we could return
together to Samoa, and you could have a month of our life
here, which I believe you could not help liking. Our horses
are the devil, of course, miserable screws, and some of them
a little vicious. I had a dreadful fright - the passage in
my mother's letter is recrossed and I see it says the end of
/94: so much the better, then; but I would like to submit to
you my alternative plan. I could meet you at Hawaii, and
reconduct you to Hawaii, so that we could have a full six
weeks together and I believe a little over, and you would see
this place of mine, and have a sniff of native life, native
foods, native houses - and perhaps be in time to see the
German flag raised, who knows? - and we could generally yarn
for all we were worth. I should like you to see Vailima; and
I should be curious to know how the climate affected you. It
is quite hit or miss; it suits me, it suits Graham, it suits
all our family; others it does not suit at all. It is either
gold or poison. I rise at six, the rest at seven; lunch is
at 12; at five we go to lawn tennis till dinner at six; and
to roost early.
A man brought in a head to Mulinuu in great glory; they
washed the black paint off, and behold! it was his brother.
When I last heard he was sitting in his house, with the head
upon his lap, and weeping. Barbarous war is an ugly
business; but I believe the civilised is fully uglier; but
Lord! what fun!
I should say we now have definite news that there are THREE
women's heads; it was difficult to get it out of the natives,
who are all ashamed, and the women all in terror of
reprisals. Nothing has been done to punish or disgrace these
hateful innovators. It was a false report that the head had
been returned.
THURSDAY, 13TH,
Mataafa driven away from Savaii. I cannot write about this,
and do not know what should be the end of it.
MONDAY, 17TH.
Haggard and Ahrens (a German clerk) to lunch yesterday.
There is no real certain news yet: I must say, no man could
SWEAR to any result; but the sky looks horribly black for
Mataafa and so many of our friends along with him. The thing
has an abominable, a beastly, nightmare interest. But it's
wonderful generally how little one cares about the wounded;
hospital sights, etc.; things that used to murder me. I was
far more struck with the excellent way in which things were
managed; as if it had been a peep-show; I held some of the
things at an operation, and did not care a dump.
TUESDAY, 18TH.
Sunday came the KATOOMBA, Captain Bickford, C.M.G.
Yesterday, Graham and I went down to call, and find he has
orders to suppress Mataafa at once, and has to go down to-day
before daybreak to Manono. He is a very capable, energetic
man; if he had only come ten days ago, all this would have
gone by; but now the questions are thick and difficult. (1)
Will Mataafa surrender? (2) Will his people allow themselves
to be disarmed? (3) What will happen to them if they do?
(4) What will any of them believe after former deceptions?
The three consuls were scampering on horseback to Leulumoega
to the King; no Cusack-Smith, without whose accession I could
not send a letter to Mataafa. I rode up here, wrote my
letter in the sweat of the concordance and with the able-
bodied help of Lloyd - and dined. Then down in continual
showers and pitchy darkness, and to Cusack-Smith's; not re-
returned. Back to the inn for my horse, and to C.-S.'s, when
I find him just returned and he accepts my letter. Thence
home, by 12.30, jolly tired and wet. And to-day have been in
a crispation of energy and ill-temper, raking my wretched
mail together. It is a hateful business, waiting for the
news; it may come to a fearful massacre yet. - Yours ever,
R. L. S.
CHAPTER XXXII
AUGUST, 1893.
MY DEAR COLVIN, - Quite impossible to write. Your letter is
due to-day; a nasty, rainy-like morning with huge blue
clouds, and a huge indigo shadow on the sea, and my lamp
still burning at near 7. Let me humbly give you news. Fanny
seems on the whole the most, or the only, powerful member of
the family; for some days she has been the Flower of the
Flock. Belle is begging for quinine. Lloyd and Graham have
both been down with 'belly belong him' (Black Boy speech).
As for me, I have to lay aside my lawn tennis, having (as was
to be expected) had a smart but eminently brief hemorrhage.
I am also on the quinine flask. I have been re-casting the
beginning of the HANGING JUDGE or WEIR OF HERMISTON; then I
have been cobbling on my grandfather, whose last chapter
(there are only to be four) is in the form of pieces of
paper, a huge welter of inconsequence, and that glimmer of
faith (or hope) which one learns at this trade, that somehow
and some time, by perpetual staring and glowering and
rewriting, order will emerge. It is indeed a queer hope;
there is one piece for instance that I want in - I cannot put
it one place for a good reason - I cannot put it another for
a better - and every time I look at it, I turn sick and put
the Ms. away.
Well, your letter hasn't come, and a number of others are
missing. It looks as if a mail-bag had gone on, so I'll
blame nobody, and proceed to business.
It looks as if I was going to send you the first three
chapters of my Grandfather. . . . If they were set up, it
would be that much anxiety off my mind. I have a strange
feeling of responsibility, as if I had my ancestors' SOULS in
my charge, and might miscarry with them.
There's a lot of work gone into it, and a lot more is needed.
Still Chapter I. seems about right to me, and much of Chapter
II. Chapter III. I know nothing of, as I told you. And
Chapter IV. is at present all ends and beginnings; but it can
be pulled together.
This is all I have been able to screw up to you for this
month, and I may add that it is not only more than you
deserve, but just about more than I was equal to. I have
been and am entirely useless; just able to tinker at my
Grandfather. The three chapters - perhaps also a little of
the fourth - will come home to you next mail by the hand of
my cousin Graham Balfour, a very nice fellow whom I recommend
to you warmly - and whom I think you will like. This will
give you time to consider my various and distracted schemes.
All our wars are over in the meantime, to begin again as soon
as the war-ships leave. Adieu.
R. L. S.
CHAPTER XXXIII
23RD AUGUST.
MY DEAR COLVIN, - Your pleasing letter RE THE EBB TIDE, to
hand. I propose, if it be not too late, to delete Lloyd's
name. He has nothing to do with the last half. The first we
wrote together, as the beginning of a long yarn. The second
is entirely mine; and I think it rather unfair on the young
man to couple his name with so infamous a work. Above all,
as you had not read the two last chapters, which seem to me
the most ugly and cynical of all.
You will see that I am not in a good humour; and I am not.
It is not because of your letter, but because of the
complicated miseries that surround me and that I choose to
say nothing of. Life is not all Beer and Skittles. The
inherent tragedy of things works itself out from white to
black and blacker, and the poor things of a day look ruefully
on. Does it shake my cast-iron faith? I cannot say it does.
I believe in an ultimate decency of things; ay, and if I woke
in hell, should still believe it! But it is hard walking,
and I can see my own share in the missteps, and can bow my
head to the result, like an old, stern, unhappy devil of a
Norseman, as my ultimate character is. . . .
Well, IL FAUT CULTIVER SON JARDIN. That last expression of
poor, unhappy human wisdom I take to my heart and go to ST.
IVES.
24th AUG.
And did, and worked about 2 hours and got to sleep ultimately
and 'a' the clouds has blawn away.' 'Be sure we'll have some
pleisand weather, When a' the clouds (storms?) has blawn
(gone?) away.' Verses that have a quite inexplicable
attraction for me, and I believe had for Burns. They have no
merit, but are somehow good. I am now in a most excellent
humour.
I am deep in ST. IVES which, I believe, will be the next
novel done. But it is to be clearly understood that I
promise nothing, and may throw in your face the very last
thing you expect - or I expect. ST. IVES will (to my mind)
not be wholly bad. It is written in rather a funny style; a
little stilted and left-handed; the style of St. Ives; also,
to some extent, the style of R. L. S. dictating. ST. IVES
is unintellectual and except as an adventure novel, dull.
But the adventures seem to me sound and pretty probable; and
it is a love story. Speed his wings!
SUNDAY NIGHT.
DE COEUR UN PEU PLUS DISPOS, MONSIEUR ET CHER CONFRERE, JE ME
REMETS A VOUS ECRIRE. ST. IVES is now in the 5th chapter
copying; in the 14th chapter of the dictated draft. I do not
believe I shall end by disliking it.
MONDAY.
Well, here goes again for the news. Fanny is VERY WELL
indeed, and in good spirits; I am in good spirits but not
VERY well; Lloyd is in good spirits and very well; Belle has
a real good fever which has put her pipe out wholly. Graham
goes back this mail. He takes with him three chapters of THE
FAMILY, and is to go to you as soon as he can. He cannot be
much the master of his movements, but you grip him when you
can and get all you can from him, as he has lived about six
months with us and he can tell you just what is true and what
is not - and not the dreams of dear old Ross. He is a good
fellow, is he not?
Since you rather revise your views of THE EBB TIDE, I think
Lloyd's name might stick, but I'll leave it to you. I'll
tell you just how it stands. Up to the discovery of the
champagne, the tale was all planned between us and drafted by
Lloyd; from that moment he has had nothing to do with it
except talking it over. For we changed our plan, gave up the
projected Monte Cristo, and cut it down for a short story.
My jmpression - (I beg your pardon - this is a local joke - a
firm here had on its beer labels, 'sole jmporters') - is that
it will never be popular, but might make a little SUCCES DE
SCANDALE. However, I'm done with it now, and not sorry, and
the crowd may rave and mumble its bones for what I care.
Hole essential. I am sorry about the maps; but I want 'em
for next edition, so see and have proofs sent. You are quite
right about the bottle and the great Huish, I must try to
make it clear. No, I will not write a play for Irving nor
for the devil. Can you not see that the work of
FALSIFICATION which a play demands is of all tasks the most
ungrateful? And I have done it a long while - and nothing
ever came of it.
Consider my new proposal, I mean Honolulu. You would get the
Atlantic and the Rocky Mountains, would you not? for bracing.
And so much less sea! And then you could actually see
Vailima, which I WOULD like you to, for it's beautiful and my
home and tomb that is to be; though it's a wrench not to be
planted in Scotland - that I can never deny - if I could only
be buried in the hills, under the heather and a table
tombstone like the martyrs, where the whaups and plovers are
crying! Did you see a man who wrote the STICKIT MINISTER,
and dedicated it to me, in words that brought the tears to my
eyes every time I looked at them, 'Where about the graves of
the martyrs the whaups are crying. HIS heart remembers how.'
Ah, by God, it does! Singular that I should fulfil the Scots
destiny throughout, and live a voluntary exile, and have my
head filled with the blessed, beastly place all the time!
And now a word as regards the delusions of the dear Ross, who
remembers, I believe, my letters and Fanny's when we were
first installed, and were really hoeing a hard row. We have
salad, beans, cabbages, tomatoes, asparagus, kohl-rabi,
oranges, limes, barbadines, pine-apples, Cape gooseberries -
galore; pints of milk and cream; fresh meat five days a week.
It is the rarest thing for any of us to touch a tin; and the
gnashing of teeth when it has to be done is dreadful - for no
one who has not lived on them for six months knows what the
Hatred of the Tin is. As for exposure, my weakness is
certainly the reverse; I am sometimes a month without leaving
the verandah - for my sins, be it said! Doubtless, when I go
about and, as the Doctor says, 'expose myself to malaria,' I
am in far better health; and I would do so more too - for I
do not mean to be silly - but the difficulties are great.
However, you see how much the dear Doctor knows of my diet
and habits! Malaria practically does not exist in these
islands; it is a negligeable quantity. What really bothers
us a little is the mosquito affair - the so-called
elephantiasis - ask Ross about it. A real romance of natural
history, QUOI!
Hi! stop! you say THE EBB TIDE is the 'working out of an
artistic problem of a kind.' Well, I should just bet it was!
You don't like Attwater. But look at my three rogues;
they're all there, I'll go bail. Three types of the bad man,
the weak man, and the strong man with a weakness, that are
gone through and lived out.
Yes, of course I was sorry for Mataafa, but a good deal
sorrier and angrier about the mismanagement of all the white
officials. I cannot bear to write about that. Manono all
destroyed, one house standing in Apolima, the women stripped,
the prisoners beaten with whips - and the women's heads taken
- all under white auspices. And for upshot and result of so
much shame to the white powers - Tamasese already conspiring!
as I knew and preached in vain must be the case! Well, well,
it is no fun to meddle in politics!
I suppose you're right about Simon. But it is Symon
throughout in that blessed little volume my father bought for
me in Inverness in the year of grace '81, I believe - the
trial of James Stewart, with the Jacobite pamphlet and the
dying speech appended - out of which the whole of Davie has
already been begotten, and which I felt it a kind of loyalty
to follow. I really ought to have it bound in velvet and
gold, if I had any gratitude! and the best of the lark is,
that the name of David Balfour is not anywhere within the
bounds of it.
A pretty curious instance of the genesis of a book. I am
delighted at your good word for DAVID; I believe the two
together make up much the best of my work and perhaps of what
is in me. I am not ashamed of them, at least. There is one
hitch; instead of three hours between the two parts, I fear
there have passed three years over Davie's character; but do
not tell anybody; see if they can find it out for themselves;
and no doubt his experiences in KIDNAPPED would go far to
form him. I would like a copy to go to G. Meredith.
WEDNESDAY.
Well, here is a new move. It is likely I may start with
Graham next week and go to Honolulu to meet the other steamer
and return: I do believe a fortnight at sea would do me good;
yet I am not yet certain. The crowded UP-steamer sticks in
my throat.
TUESDAY, 12TH SEPT.
Yesterday was perhaps the brightest in the annals of Vailima.
I got leave from Captain Bickford to have the band of the
KATOOMBA come up, and they came, fourteen of 'em, with drum,
fife, cymbals and bugles, blue jackets, white caps, and
smiling faces. The house was all decorated with scented
greenery above and below. We had not only our own nine out-
door workers, but a contract party that we took on in charity
to pay their war-fine; the band besides, as it came up the
mountain, had collected a following of children by the way,
and we had a picking of Samoan ladies to receive them.
Chicken, ham, cake, and fruits were served out with coffee
and lemonade, and all the afternoon we had rounds of claret
negus flavoured with rum and limes. They played to us, they
danced, they sang, they tumbled. Our boys came in the end of
the verandah and gave THEM a dance for a while. It was
anxious work getting this stopped once it had begun, but I
knew the band was going on a programme. Finally they gave
three cheers for Mr. and Mrs. Stevens, shook hands, formed up
and marched off playing - till a kicking horse in the paddock
put their pipes out something of the suddenest - we thought
the big drum was gone, but Simele flew to the rescue. And so
they wound away down the hill with ever another call of the
bugle, leaving us extinct with fatigue, but perhaps the most
contented hosts that ever watched the departure of successful
guests. Simply impossible to tell how well these blue-
jackets behaved; a most interesting lot of men; this
education of boys for the navy is making a class, wholly
apart - how shall I call them? - a kind of lower-class public
school boy, well-mannered, fairly intelligent, sentimental as
a sailor. What is more shall be writ on board ship if
anywhere.
Please send CATRIONA to G. Meredith.
S. S. MARIPOSA.
To-morrow I reach Honolulu. Good-morning to your honour. R.
L. S.
CHAPTER XXXIV
WAIKIKI, HONOLULU, H. 1.
OCT. 23rd, 1893.
DEAR COLVIN, - My wife came up on the steamer and we go home
together in 2 days. I am practically all right, only sleepy
and tired easily, slept yesterday from 11 to 11.45, from 1 to
2.50, went to bed at 8 P.M., and with an hour's interval
slept till 6 A.M., close upon 14 hours out of the 24. We
sail to-morrow. I am anxious to get home, though this has
been an interesting visit, and politics have been curious
indeed to study. We go to P.P.C. on the 'Queen' this
morning; poor, recluse lady, ABREUVEE D'INJURES QU'ELLE EST.
Had a rather annoying lunch on board the American man-of-war,
with a member of the P.G. (provincial government); and a good
deal of anti-royalist talk, which I had to sit out - not only
for my host's sake, but my fellow guests. At last, I took
the lead and changed the conversation.
R. L. S.
I am being busted here by party named Hutchinson. Seems
good.
[VAILIMA - NOVEMBER.]
Home again, and found all well, thank God. I am perfectly
well again and ruddier than the cherry. Please note that
8000 is not bad for a volume of short stories; the MERRY MEN
did a good deal worse; the short story never sells. I hope
CATRIONA will do; that is the important. The reviews seem
mixed and perplexed, and one had the peculiar virtue to make
me angry. I am in a fair way to expiscate my family history.
Fanny and I had a lovely voyage down, with our new C. J. and
the American Land Commissioner, and on the whole, and for
these disgusting steamers, a pleasant ship's company. I
cannot understand why you don't take to the Hawaii scheme.
Do you understand? You cross the Atlantic in six days, and
go from 'Frisco to Honolulu in seven. Thirteen days at sea
IN ALL. - I have no wish to publish THE EBB TIDE as a book,
let it wait. It will look well in the portfolio. I would
like a copy, of course, for that end; and to 'look upon't
again' - which I scarce dare.
[LATER.]
This is disgraceful. I have done nothing; neither work nor
letters. On the Me (May) day, we had a great triumph; our
Protestant boys, instead of going with their own villages and
families, went of their own accord in the Vailima uniform;
Belle made coats for them on purpose to complete the uniform,
they having bought the stuff; and they were hailed as they
marched in as the Tama-ona - the rich man's children. This
is really a score; it means that Vailima is publicly taken as
a family. Then we had my birthday feast a week late, owing
to diarrhoea on the proper occasion. The feast was laid in
the Hall, and was a singular mass of food: 15 pigs, 100 lbs.
beef, 100 lbs. pork, and the fruit and filigree in a
proportion. We had sixty horse-posts driven in the gate
paddock; how many guests I cannot guess, perhaps 150. They
came between three and four and left about seven. Seumanu
gave me one of his names; and when my name was called at the
ava drinking, behold, it was AU MAI TAUA MA MANU-VAO! You
would scarce recognise me, if you heard me thus referred to!
Two days after, we hired a carriage in Apia, Fanny, Belle,
Lloyd and I, and drove in great style, with a native
outrider, to the prison; a huge gift of ava and tobacco under
the seats. The prison is now under the PULE of an Austrian,
Captain Wurmbrand, a soldier of fortune in Servia and Turkey,
a charming, clever, kindly creature, who is adored by 'HIS
chiefs' (as he calls them) meaning OUR political prisoners.
And we came into the yard, walled about with tinned iron, and
drank ava with the prisoners and the captain. It may amuse
you to hear how it is proper to drink ava. When the cup is
handed you, you reach your arm out somewhat behind you, and
slowly pour a libation, saying with somewhat the manner of
prayer, 'IA TAUMAFA E LE ATUA. UA MATAGOFIE LE FESILAFAIGA
NEI.' 'Be it (high-chief) partaken of by the God. How (high
chief) beautiful to view is this (high chief) gathering.'
This pagan practice is very queer. I should say that the
prison ava was of that not very welcome form that we
elegantly call spit-ava, but of course there was no escape,
and it had to be drunk. Fanny and I rode home, and I
moralised by the way. Could we ever stand Europe again? did
she appreciate that if we were in London, we should be
ACTUALLY JOSTLED in the street? and there was nobody in the
whole of Britain who knew how to take ava like a gentleman?
'Tis funny to be thus of two civilisations - or, if you like,
of one civilisation and one barbarism. And, as usual, the
barbarism is the more engaging.
Colvin, you have to come here and see us in our { native /
mortal } spot. I just don't seem to be able to make up my
mind to your not coming. By this time, you will have seen
Graham, I hope, and he will be able to tell you something
about us, and something reliable, I shall feel for the first
time as if you knew a little about Samoa after that. Fanny
seems to be in the right way now. I must say she is very,
very well for her, and complains scarce at all. Yesterday,
she went down SOLA (at least accompanied by a groom) to pay a
visit; Belle, Lloyd and I went a walk up the mountain road -
the great public highway of the island, where you have to go
single file. The object was to show Belle that gaudy valley
of the Vaisigano which the road follows. If the road is to
be made and opened, as our new Chief Justice promises, it
will be one of the most beautiful roads in the world. But
the point is this: I forgot I had been three months in
civilisation, wearing shoes and stockings, and I tell you I
suffered on my soft feet; coming home, down hill, on that
stairway of loose stones, I could have cried. O yes, another
story, I knew I had. The house boys had not been behaving
well, so the other night I announced a FONO, and Lloyd and I
went into the boys' quarters, and I talked to them I suppose
for half an hour, and Talolo translated; Lloyd was there
principally to keep another ear on the interpreter; else
there may be dreadful misconceptions. I rubbed all their
ears, except two whom I particularly praised; and one man's
wages I announced I had cut down by one half. Imagine his
taking this smiling! Ever since, he has been specially
attentive and greets me with a face of really heavenly
brightness. This is another good sign of their really and
fairly accepting me as a chief. When I first came here, if I
had fined a man a sixpence, he would have quit work that
hour, and now I remove half his income, and he is glad to
stay on - nay, does not seem to entertain the possibility of
leaving. And this in the face of one particular difficulty -
I mean our house in the bush, and no society, and no women
society within decent reach.
I think I must give you our staff in a tabular form.
HOUSE.
+ o SOSIMO, provost and butler, and my valet.
o MISIFOLO, who is Fanny and Belle's chamberlain.
KITCHEN
+ o TALOLO, provost and chief cook.
+ o IOPU, second cook.
TALI, his wife, no wages.
TI'A, Samoan cook.
FEILOA'I, his child, no wages, likewise no work - Belle's
pet.
+ o LEUELU, Fanny's boy, gardener, odd jobs.
IN APIA.
+ ELIGA, washman and daily errand man.
OUTSIDE.
+ o HENRY SIMELE, provost and overseas of outside boys.
LU.
TASI SELE.
MAIELE.
PULU, who is also our talking man and cries the ava.
The crosses mark out the really excellent boys. Ti'a is the
man who has just been fined half his wages; he is a beautiful
old man, the living image of 'Fighting Gladiator,' my
favourite statue - but a dreadful humbug. I think we keep
him on a little on account of his looks. This sign o marks
those who have been two years or upwards in the family. I
note all my old boys have the cross of honour, except
Misifolo; well, poor dog, he does his best, I suppose. You
should see him scour. It is a remark that has often been
made by visitors: you never see a Samoan run, except at
Vailima. Do you not suppose that makes me proud?
I am pleased to see what a success THE WRECKER was, having
already in little more than a year outstripped THE MASTER OF
BALLANTRAE.
About DAVID BALFOUR in two volumes, do see that they make it
a decent-looking book, and tell me, do you think a little
historical appendix would be of service? Lang bleats for
one, and I thought I might address it to him as a kind of
open letter.
DEC. 4TH.
No time after all. Good-bye.
R. L S.
CHAPTER XXXV
MY DEAR COLVIN, - One page out of my picture book I must give
you. Fine burning day; half past two P.M. We four begin to
rouse up from reparatory slumbers, yawn, and groan, get a cup
of tea, and miserably dress: we have had a party the day
before, X'mas Day, with all the boys absent but one, and
latterly two; we had cooked all day long, a cold dinner, and
lo! at two our guests began to arrive, though dinner was not
till six; they were sixteen, and fifteen slept the night and
breakfasted. Conceive, then, how unwillingly we climb on our
horses and start off in the hottest part of the afternoon to
ride 4 and a half miles, attend a native feast in the gaol,
and ride four and a half miles back. But there is no help
for it. I am a sort of father of the political prisoners,
and have CHARGE D'AMES in that riotously absurd
establishment, Apia Gaol. The twenty-three (I think it is)
chiefs act as under gaolers. The other day they told the
Captain of an attempt to escape. One of the lesser political
prisoners the other day effected a swift capture, while the
Captain was trailing about with the warrant; the man came to
see what was wanted; came, too, flanked by the former gaoler;
my prisoner offers to show him the dark cell, shoves him in,
and locks the door. 'Why do you do that?' cries the former
gaoler. 'A warrant,' says he. Finally, the chiefs actually
feed the soldiery who watch them!
The gaol is a wretched little building, containing a little
room, and three cells, on each side of a central passage; it
is surrounded by a fence of corrugated iron, and shows, over
the top of that, only a gable end with the inscription O LE
FALE PUIPUI. It is on the edge of the mangrove swamp, and is
reached by a sort of causeway of turf. When we drew near, we
saw the gates standing open and a prodigious crowd outside -
I mean prodigious for Apia, perhaps a hundred and fifty
people. The two sentries at the gate stood to arms
passively, and there seemed to be a continuous circulation
inside and out. The captain came to meet us; our boy, who
had been sent ahead was there to take the horses; and we
passed inside the court which was full of food, and rang
continuously to the voice of the caller of gifts; I had to
blush a little later when my own present came, and I heard my
one pig and eight miserable pine-apples being counted out
like guineas. In the four corners of the yard and along one
wall, there are make-shift, dwarfish, Samoan houses or huts,
which have been run up since Captain Wurmbrand came to
accommodate the chiefs. Before that they were all crammed
into the six cells, and locked in for the night, some of them
with dysentery. They are wretched constructions enough, but
sanctified by the presence of chiefs. We heard a man
corrected loudly to-day for saying 'FALE' of one of them;
'MAOTA,' roared the highest chief present - 'palace.' About
eighteen chiefs, gorgeously arrayed, stood up to greet us,
and led us into one of these MAOTAS, where you may be sure we
had to crouch, almost to kneel, to enter, and where a row of
pretty girls occupied one side to make the ava (kava). The
highest chief present was a magnificent man, as high chiefs
usually are; I find I cannot describe him; his face is full
of shrewdness and authority; his figure like Ajax; his name
Auilua. He took the head of the building and put Belle on
his right hand. Fanny was called first for the ava (kava).
Our names were called in English style, the high-chief wife
of Mr. St- (an unpronounceable something); Mrs. Straw, and
the like. And when we went into the other house to eat, we
found we were seated alternately with chiefs about the -
table, I was about to say, but rather floor. Everything was
to be done European style with a vengeance! We were the only
whites present, except Wurmbrand, and still I had no
suspicion of the truth. They began to take off their ulas
(necklaces of scarlet seeds) and hang them about our necks;
we politely resisted, and were told that the King (who had
stopped off their SIVA) had sent down to the prison a message
to the effect that he was to give a dinner to-morrow, and
wished their second-hand ulas for it. Some of them were
content; others not. There was a ring of anger in the boy's
voice, as he told us we were to wear them past the King's
house. Dinner over, I must say they are moderate eaters at a
feast, we returned to the ava house; and then the curtain
drew suddenly up upon the set scene. We took our seats, and
Auilua began to give me a present, recapitulating each
article as he gave it out, with some appropriate comment. He
called me several times 'their only friend,' said they were
all in slavery, had no money, and these things were all made
by the hands of their families - nothing bought; he had one
phrase, in which I heard his voice rise up to a note of
triumph: 'This is a present from the poor prisoners to the
rich man.' Thirteen pieces of tapa, some of them
surprisingly fine, one I think unique; thirty fans of every
shape and colour; a kava cup, etc., etc. At first Auilua
conducted the business with weighty gravity; but before the
end of the thirty fans, his comments began to be humorous.
When it came to a little basket, he said: 'Here was a little
basket for Tusitala to put sixpence in, when he could get
hold of one' - with a delicious grimace. I answered as best
as I was able through a miserable interpreter; and all the
while, as I went on, I heard the crier outside in the court
calling my gift of food, which I perceived was to be
Gargantuan. I had brought but three boys with me. It was
plain that they were wholly overpowered. We proposed to send
for our gifts on the morrow; but no, said the interpreter,
that would never do; they must go away to-day, Mulinuu must
see my porters taking away the gifts, - 'make 'em jella,'
quoth the interpreter. And I began to see the reason of this
really splendid gift; one half, gratitude to me - one half, a
wipe at the King.
And now, to introduce darker colours, you must know this
visit of mine to the gaol was just a little bit risky; we had
several causes for anxiety; it MIGHT have been put up, to
connect with a Tamasese rising. Tusitala and his family
would be good hostages. On the other hand, there were the
Mulinuu people all about. We could see the anxiety of
Captain Wurmbrand, no less anxious to have us go, than he had
been to see us come; he was deadly white and plainly had a
bad headache, in the noisy scene. Presently, the noise grew
uproarious; there was a rush at the gate - a rush in, not a
rush out - where the two sentries still stood passive; Auilua
leaped from his place (it was then that I got the name of
Ajax for him) and the next moment we heard his voice roaring
and saw his mighty figure swaying to and fro in the hurly-
burly. As the deuce would have it, we could not understand a
word of what was going on. It might be nothing more than the
ordinary 'grab racket' with which a feast commonly concludes;
it might be something worse. We made what arrangements we
could for my tapa, fans, etc., as well as for my five pigs,
my masses of fish, taro, etc., and with great dignity, and
ourselves laden with ulas and other decorations, passed
between the sentries among the howling mob to our horses.
All's well that ends well. Owing to Fanny and Belle, we had
to walk; and, as Lloyd said, 'he had at last ridden in a
circus.' The whole length of Apia we paced our triumphal
progress, past the King's palace, past the German firm at
Sogi - you can follow it on the map - amidst admiring
exclamations of 'MAWAIA' - beautiful - it may be rendered 'O
my! ain't they dandy' - until we turned up at last into our
road as the dusk deepened into night. It was really
exciting. And there is one thing sure: no such feast was
ever made for a single family, and no such present ever given
to a single white man. It is something to have been the hero
of it. And whatever other ingredients there were,
undoubtedly gratitude was present. As money value I have
actually gained on the transaction!
Your note arrived; little profit, I must say. Scott has
already put his nose in, in ST. IVES, sir; but his appearance
is not yet complete; nothing is in that romance, except the
story. I have to announce that I am off work, probably for
six months. I must own that I have overworked bitterly -
overworked - there, that's legible. My hand is a thing that
was, and in the meanwhile so are my brains. And here, in the
very midst, comes a plausible scheme to make Vailima pay,
which will perhaps let me into considerable expense just when
I don't want it. You know the vast cynicism of my view of
affairs, and how readily and (as some people say) with how
much gusto I take the darker view?
Why do you not send me Jerome K. Jerome's paper, and let me
see THE EBB TIDE as a serial? It is always very important to
see a thing in different presentments. I want every number.
Politically we begin the new year with every expectation of a
bust in 2 or 3 days, a bust which may spell destruction to
Samoa. I have written to Baxter about his proposal.
CHAPTER XXXVI
VAILIMA,
JAN. 29TH, 1894.
MY DEAR COLVIN, - I had fully intended for your education and
moral health to fob you off with the meanest possible letter
this month, and unfortunately I find I will have to treat you
to a good long account of matters here. I believe I have
told you before about Tui-ma-le-alii-fano and my taking him
down to introduce him to the Chief Justice. Well, Tui came
back to Vailima one day in the blackest sort of spirits,
saying the war was decided, that he also must join in the
fight, and that there was no hope whatever of success. He
must fight as a point of honour for his family and country;
and in his case, even if he escaped on the field of battle,
deportation was the least to be looked for. He said he had a
letter of complaint from the Great Council of A'ana which he
wished to lay before the Chief Justice; and he asked me to
accompany him as if I were his nurse. We went down about
dinner time; and by the way received from a lurking native
the famous letter in an official blue envelope gummed up to
the edges. It proved to be a declaration of war, quite
formal, but with some variations that really made you bounce.
White residents were directly threatened, bidden to have
nothing to do with the King's party, not to receive their
goods in their houses, etc., under pain of an accident.
However, the Chief Justice took it very wisely and mildly,
and between us, he and I and Tui made up a plan which has
proved successful - so far. The war is over - fifteen chiefs
are this morning undergoing a curious double process of law,
comparable to a court martial; in which their complaints are
to be considered, and if possible righted, while their
conduct is to be criticised, perhaps punished. Up to now,
therefore, it has been a most successful policy; but the
danger is before us. My own feeling would decidedly be that
all would be spoiled by a single execution. The great hope
after all lies in the knotless, rather flaccid character of
the people. These are no Maoris. All the powers that
Cedarcrantz let go by disuse the new C. J. is stealthily and
boldly taking back again; perhaps some others also. He has
shamed the chiefs in Mulinuu into a law against taking heads,
with a punishment of six years' imprisonment and, for a
chief, degradation. To him has been left the sole conduct of
this anxious and decisive inquiry. If the natives stand it,
why, well! But I am nervous.
