CHAPTER VI--LAST EXPLOITS OF BECKER


_September-November_ 1888

Brandeis had held all day by Mulinuu, expecting the reported real attack.
He woke on the 13th to find himself cut off on that unwatered promontory,
and the Mataafa villagers parading Apia.  The same day Fritze received a
letter from Mataafa summoning him to withdraw his party from the isthmus;
and Fritze, as if in answer, drew in his ship into the small harbour
close to Mulinuu, and trained his port battery to assist in the defence.
From a step so decisive, it might be thought the German plans were
unaffected by the disastrous issue of the battle.  I conceive nothing
would be further from the truth.  Here was Tamasese penned on Mulinuu
with his troops; Apia, from which alone these could be subsisted, in the
hands of the enemy; a battle imminent, in which the German vessel must
apparently take part with men and battery, and the buildings of the
German firm were apparently destined to be the first target of fire.
Unless Becker re-established that which he had so lately and so artfully
thrown down--the neutral territory--the firm would have to suffer.  If he
re-established it, Tamasese must retire from Mulinuu.  If Becker saved
his goose, he lost his cabbage.  Nothing so well depicts the man's
effrontery as that he should have conceived the design of saving both,--of
re-establishing only so much of the neutral territory as should hamper
Mataafa, and leaving in abeyance all that could incommode Tamasese.  By
drawing the boundary where he now proposed, across the isthmus, he
protected the firm, drove back the Mataafas out of almost all that they
had conquered, and, so far from disturbing Tamasese, actually fortified
him in his old position.

The real story of the negotiations that followed we shall perhaps never
learn.  But so much is plain: that while Becker was thus outwardly
straining decency in the interest of Tamasese, he was privately
intriguing, or pretending to intrigue, with Mataafa.  In his despatch of
the 11th, he had given an extended criticism of that chieftain, whom he
depicts as very dark and artful; and while admitting that his assumption
of the name of Malietoa might raise him up followers, predicted that he
could not make an orderly government or support himself long in sole
power "without very energetic foreign help."  Of what help was the consul
thinking?  There was no helper in the field but Germany.  On the 15th he
had an interview with the victor; told him that Tamasese's was the only
government recognised by Germany, and that he must continue to recognise
it till he received "other instructions from his government, whom he was
now advising of the late events"; refused, accordingly, to withdraw the
guard from the isthmus; and desired Mataafa, "until the arrival of these
fresh instructions," to refrain from an attack on Mulinuu.  One thing of
two: either this language is extremely perfidious, or Becker was
preparing to change sides.  The same detachment appears in his despatch
of October 7th.  He computes the losses of the German firm with an easy
cheerfulness.  If Tamasese get up again (_gelingt die Wiederherstellung
der Regierung Tamasese's_), Tamasese will have to pay.  If not, then
Mataafa.  This is not the language of a partisan.  The tone of
indifference, the easy implication that the case of Tamasese was already
desperate, the hopes held secretly forth to Mataafa and secretly reported
to his government at home, trenchantly contrast with his external
conduct.  At this very time he was feeding Tamasese; he had German
sailors mounting guard on Tamasese's battlements; the German war-ship lay
close in, whether to help or to destroy.  If he meant to drop the cause
of Tamasese, he had him in a corner, helpless, and could stifle him
without a sob.  If he meant to rat, it was to be with every condition of
safety and every circumstance of infamy.

Was it conceivable, then, that he meant it?  Speaking with a gentleman
who was in the confidence of Dr. Knappe: "Was it not a pity," I asked,
"that Knappe did not stick to Becker's policy of supporting Mataafa?"
"You are quite wrong there; that was not Knappe's doing," was the reply.
"Becker had changed his mind before Knappe came."  Why, then, had he
changed it?  This excellent, if ignominious, idea once entertained, why
was it let drop?  It is to be remembered there was another German in the
field, Brandeis, who had a respect, or rather, perhaps, an affection, for
Tamasese, and who thought his own honour and that of his country engaged
in the support of that government which they had provoked and founded.
Becker described the captain to Laupepa as "a quiet, sensible gentleman."
If any word came to his ears of the intended manoeuvre, Brandeis would
certainly show himself very sensible of the affront; but Becker might
have been tempted to withdraw his former epithet of quiet.  Some such
passage, some such threatened change of front at the consulate, opposed
with outcry, would explain what seems otherwise inexplicable, the bitter,
indignant, almost hostile tone of a subsequent letter from Brandeis to
Knappe--"Brandeis's inflammatory letter," Bismarck calls it--the
proximate cause of the German landing and reverse at Fangalii.

But whether the advances of Becker were sincere or not--whether he
meditated treachery against the old king or was practising treachery upon
the new, and the choice is between one or other--no doubt but he
contrived to gain his points with Mataafa, prevailing on him to change
his camp for the better protection of the German plantations, and
persuading him (long before he could persuade his brother consuls) to
accept that miraculous new neutral territory of his, with a piece cut out
for the immediate needs of Tamasese.

During the rest of September, Tamasese continued to decline.  On the 19th
one village and half of another deserted him; on the 22nd two more.  On
the 21st the Mataafas burned his town of Leulumoenga, his own splendid
house flaming with the rest; and there are few things of which a native
thinks more, or has more reason to think well, than of a fine Samoan
house.  Tamasese women and children were marched up the same day from
Atua, and handed over with their sleeping-mats to Mulinuu: a most
unwelcome addition to a party already suffering from want.  By the 20th,
they were being watered from the _Adler_.  On the 24th the Manono fleet
of sixteen large boats, fortified and rendered unmanageable with tons of
firewood, passed to windward to intercept supplies from Atua.  By the
27th the hungry garrison flocked in great numbers to draw rations at the
German firm.  On the 28th the same business was repeated with a different
issue.  Mataafas crowded to look on; words were exchanged, blows
followed; sticks, stones, and bottles were caught up; the detested
Brandeis, at great risk, threw himself between the lines and expostulated
with the Mataafas--his only personal appearance in the wars, if this
could be called war.  The same afternoon, the Tamasese boats got in with
provisions, having passed to seaward of the lumbering Manono fleet; and
from that day on, whether from a high degree of enterprise on the one
side or a great lack of capacity on the other, supplies were maintained
from the sea with regularity.  Thus the spectacle of battle, or at least
of riot, at the doors of the German firm was not repeated.  But the
memory must have hung heavy on the hearts, not of the Germans only, but
of all Apia.  The Samoans are a gentle race, gentler than any in Europe;
we are often enough reminded of the circumstance, not always by their
friends.  But a mob is a mob, and a drunken mob is a drunken mob, and a
drunken mob with weapons in its hands is a drunken mob with weapons in
its hands, all the world over: elementary propositions, which some of us
upon these islands might do worse than get by rote, but which must have
been evident enough to Becker.  And I am amazed by the man's constancy,
that, even while blows were going at the door of that German firm which
he was in Samoa to protect, he should have stuck to his demands.  Ten
days before, Blacklock had offered to recognise the old territory,
including Mulinuu, and Becker had refused, and still in the midst of
these "alarums and excursions," he continued to refuse it.

On October 2nd, anchored in Apia bay H.B.M.S. _Calliope_, Captain Kane,
carrying the flag of Rear-Admiral Fairfax, and the gunboat _Lizard_,
Lieutenant-Commander Pelly.  It was rumoured the admiral had come to
recognise the government of Tamasese, I believe in error.  And at least
the day for that was quite gone by; and he arrived not to salute the
king's accession, but to arbitrate on his remains.  A conference of the
consuls and commanders met on board the _Calliope_, October 4th, Fritze
alone being absent, although twice invited: the affair touched politics,
his consul was to be there; and even if he came to the meeting (so he
explained to Fairfax) he would have no voice in its deliberations.  The
parties were plainly marked out: Blacklock and Leary maintaining their
offer of the old neutral territory, and probably willing to expand or to
contract it to any conceivable extent, so long as Mulinuu was still
included; Knappe offered (if the others liked) to include "the whole
eastern end of the island," but quite fixed upon the one point that
Mulinuu should be left out; the English willing to meet either view, and
singly desirous that Apia should be neutralised.  The conclusion was
foregone.  Becker held a trump card in the consent of Mataafa; Blacklock
and Leary stood alone, spoke with all ill grace, and could not long hold
out.  Becker had his way; and the neutral boundary was chosen just where
he desired: across the isthmus, the firm within, Mulinuu without.  He did
not long enjoy the fruits of victory.

On the 7th, three days after the meeting, one of the Scanlons (well-known
and intelligent half-castes) came to Blacklock with a complaint.  The
Scanlon house stood on the hither side of the Tamasese breastwork, just
inside the newly accepted territory, and within easy range of the firm.
Armed men, to the number of a hundred, had issued from Mulinuu, had
"taken charge" of the house, had pointed a gun at Scanlon's head, and had
twice "threatened to kill" his pigs.  I hear elsewhere of some effects
(_Gegenstande_) removed.  At the best a very pale atrocity, though we
shall find the word employed.  Germans declare besides that Scanlon was
no American subject; they declare the point had been decided by court-
martial in 1875; that Blacklock had the decision in the consular
archives; and that this was his reason for handing the affair to Leary.
It is not necessary to suppose so.  It is plain he thought little of the
business; thought indeed nothing of it; except in so far as armed men had
entered the neutral territory from Mulinuu; and it was on this ground
alone, and the implied breach of Becker's engagement at the conference,
that he invited Leary's attention to the tale.  The impish ingenuity of
the commander perceived in it huge possibilities of mischief.  He took up
the Scanlon outrage, the atrocity of the threatened pigs; and with that
poor instrument--I am sure, to his own wonder--drove Tamasese out of
Mulinuu.  It was "an intrigue," Becker complains.  To be sure it was; but
who was Becker to be complaining of intrigue?

On the 7th Leary laid before Fritze the following conundrum: "As the
natives of Mulinuu appear to be under the protection of the Imperial
German naval guard belonging to the vessel under your command, I have the
honour to request you to inform me whether or not they are under such
protection?  Amicable relations," pursued the humorist, "amicable
relations exist between the government of the United States and His
Imperial German Majesty's government, but we do not recognise Tamasese's
government, and I am desirous of locating the responsibility for
violations of American rights."  Becker and Fritze lost no time in
explanation or denial, but went straight to the root of the matter and
sought to buy off Scanlon.  Becker declares that every reparation was
offered.  Scanlon takes a pride to recapitulate the leases and the
situations he refused, and the long interviews in which he was tempted
and plied with drink by Becker or Beckmann of the firm.  No doubt, in
short, that he was offered reparation in reason and out of reason, and,
being thoroughly primed, refused it all.  Meantime some answer must be
made to Leary; and Fritze repeated on the 8th his oft-repeated assurances
that he was not authorised to deal with politics.  The same day Leary
retorted: "The question is not one of diplomacy nor of politics.  It is
strictly one of military jurisdiction and responsibility.  Under the
shadow of the German fort at Mulinuu," continued the hyperbolical
commander, "atrocities have been committed. . . . And I again have the
honour respectfully to request to be informed whether or not the armed
natives at Mulinuu are under the protection of the Imperial German naval
guard belonging to the vessel under your command."  To this no answer was
vouchsafed till the 11th, and then in the old terms; and meanwhile, on
the 10th, Leary got into his gaiters--the sure sign, as was both said and
sung aboard his vessel, of some desperate or some amusing service--and
was set ashore at the Scanlons' house.  Of this he took possession at the
head of an old woman and a mop, and was seen from the Tamasese breastwork
directing operations and plainly preparing to install himself there in a
military posture.  So much he meant to be understood; so much he meant to
carry out, and an armed party from the _Adams_ was to have garrisoned on
the morrow the scene of the atrocity.  But there is no doubt he managed
to convey more.  No doubt he was a master in the art of loose speaking,
and could always manage to be overheard when he wanted; and by this, or
some other equally unofficial means, he spread the rumour that on the
morrow he was to bombard.

The proposed post, from its position, and from Leary's well-established
character as an artist in mischief, must have been regarded by the
Germans with uneasiness.  In the bombardment we can scarce suppose them
to have believed.  But Tamasese must have both believed and trembled.  The
prestige of the European Powers was still unbroken.  No native would then
have dreamed of defying these colossal ships, worked by mysterious
powers, and laden with outlandish instruments of death.  None would have
dreamed of resisting those strange but quite unrealised Great Powers,
understood (with difficulty) to be larger than Tonga and Samoa put
together, and known to be prolific of prints, knives, hard biscuit,
picture-books, and other luxuries, as well as of overbearing men and
inconsistent orders.  Laupepa had fallen in ill-blood with one of them;
his only idea of defence had been to throw himself in the arms of
another; his name, his rank, and his great following had not been able to
preserve him; and he had vanished from the eyes of men--as the Samoan
thinks of it, beyond the sky.  Asi, Maunga, Tuiletu-funga, had followed
him in that new path of doom.  We have seen how carefully Mataafa still
walked, how he dared not set foot on the neutral territory till assured
it was no longer sacred, how he withdrew from it again as soon as its
sacredness had been restored, and at the bare word of a consul (however
gilded with ambiguous promises) paused in his course of victory and left
his rival unassailed in Mulinuu.  And now it was the rival's turn.
Hitherto happy in the continued support of one of the white Powers, he
now found himself--or thought himself--threatened with war by no less
than two others.

Tamasese boats as they passed Matautu were in the habit of firing on the
shore, as like as not without particular aim, and more in high spirits
than hostility.  One of these shots pierced the house of a British
subject near the consulate; the consul reported to Admiral Fairfax; and,
on the morning of the 10th, the admiral despatched Captain Kane of the
_Calliope_ to Mulinuu.  Brandeis met the messenger with voluble excuses
and engagements for the future.  He was told his explanations were
satisfactory so far as they went, but that the admiral's message was to
Tamasese, the _de facto_ king.  Brandeis, not very well assured of his
puppet's courage, attempted in vain to excuse him from appearing.  No _de
facto_ king, no message, he was told: produce your _de facto_ king.  And
Tamasese had at last to be produced.  To him Kane delivered his errand:
that the _Lizard_ was to remain for the protection of British subjects;
that a signalman was to be stationed at the consulate; that, on any
further firing from boats, the signalman was to notify the _Lizard_ and
she to fire one gun, on which all boats must lower sail and come
alongside for examination and the detection of the guilty; and that, "in
the event of the boats not obeying the gun, the admiral would not be
responsible for the consequences."  It was listened to by Brandeis and
Tamasese "with the greatest attention."  Brandeis, when it was done,
desired his thanks to the admiral for the moderate terms of his message,
and, as Kane went to his boat, repeated the expression of his gratitude
as though he meant it, declaring his own hands would be thus strengthened
for the maintenance of discipline.  But I have yet to learn of any
gratitude on the part of Tamasese.  Consider the case of the poor owlish
man hearing for the first time our diplomatic commonplaces.  The admiral
would not be answerable for the consequences.  Think of it!  A devil of a
position for a _de facto_ king.  And here, the same afternoon, was Leary
in the Scanlon house, mopping it out for unknown designs by the hands of
an old woman, and proffering strange threats of bloodshed.  Scanlon and
his pigs, the admiral and his gun, Leary and his bombardment,--what a
kettle of fish!

I dwell on the effect on Tamasese.  Whatever the faults of Becker, he was
not timid; he had already braved so much for Mulinuu that I cannot but
think he might have continued to hold up his head even after the outrage
of the pigs, and that the weakness now shown originated with the king.
Late in the night, Blacklock was wakened to receive a despatch addressed
to Leary.  "You have asked that I and my government go away from Mulinuu,
because you pretend a man who lives near Mulinuu and who is under your
protection, has been threatened by my soldiers.  As your Excellency has
forbidden the man to accept any satisfaction, and as I do not wish to
make war against the United States, I shall remove my government from
Mulinuu to another place."  It was signed by Tamasese, but I think more
heads than his had wagged over the direct and able letter.  On the
morning of the 11th, accordingly, Mulinuu the much defended lay desert.
Tamasese and Brandeis had slipped to sea in a schooner; their troops had
followed them in boats; the German sailors and their war-flag had
returned on board the _Adler_; and only the German merchant flag blew
there for Weber's land-claim.  Mulinuu, for which Becker had intrigued so
long and so often, for which he had overthrown the municipality, for
which he had abrogated and refused and invented successive schemes of
neutral territory, was now no more to the Germans than a very
unattractive, barren peninsula and a very much disputed land-claim of Mr.
Weber's.  It will scarcely be believed that the tale of the Scanlon
outrages was not yet finished.  Leary had gained his point, but Scanlon
had lost his compensation.  And it was months later, and this time in the
shape of a threat of bombardment in black and white, that Tamasese heard
the last of the absurd affair.  Scanlon had both his fun and his money,
and Leary's practical joke was brought to an artistic end.

Becker sought and missed an instant revenge.  Mataafa, a devout Catholic,
was in the habit of walking every morning to mass from his camp at Vaiala
beyond Matautu to the mission at the Mulivai.  He was sometimes escorted
by as many as six guards in uniform, who displayed their proficiency in
drill by perpetually shifting arms as they marched.  Himself, meanwhile,
paced in front, bareheaded and barefoot, a staff in his hand, in the
customary chief's dress of white kilt, shirt, and jacket, and with a
conspicuous rosary about his neck.  Tall but not heavy, with eager eyes
and a marked appearance of courage and capacity, Mataafa makes an
admirable figure in the eyes of Europeans; to those of his countrymen, he
may seem not always to preserve that quiescence of manner which is
thought becoming in the great.  On the morning of October 16th he reached
the mission before day with two attendants, heard mass, had coffee with
the fathers, and left again in safety.  The smallness of his following we
may suppose to have been reported.  He was scarce gone, at least, before
Becker had armed men at the mission gate and came in person seeking him.

The failure of this attempt doubtless still further exasperated the
consul, and he began to deal as in an enemy's country.  He had marines
from the _Adler_ to stand sentry over the consulate and parade the
streets by threes and fours.  The bridge of the Vaisingano, which cuts in
half the English and American quarters, he closed by proclamation and
advertised for tenders to demolish it.  On the 17th Leary and Pelly
landed carpenters and repaired it in his teeth.  Leary, besides, had
marines under arms, ready to land them if it should be necessary to
protect the work.  But Becker looked on without interference, perhaps
glad enough to have the bridge repaired; for even Becker may not always
have offended intentionally.  Such was now the distracted posture of the
little town: all government extinct, the German consul patrolling it with
armed men and issuing proclamations like a ruler, the two other Powers
defying his commands, and at least one of them prepared to use force in
the defiance.  Close on its skirts sat the warriors of Mataafa, perhaps
four thousand strong, highly incensed against the Germans, having all to
gain in the seizure of the town and firm, and, like an army in a fairy
tale, restrained by the air-drawn boundary of the neutral ground.

I have had occasion to refer to the strange appearance in these islands
of an American adventurer with a battery of cannon.  The adventurer was
long since gone, but his guns remained, and one of them was now to make
fresh history.  It had been cast overboard by Brandeis on the outer reef
in the course of this retreat; and word of it coming to the ears of the
Mataafas, they thought it natural that they should serve themselves the
heirs of Tamasese.  On the 23rd a Manono boat of the kind called
_taumualua_ dropped down the coast from Mataafa's camp, called in broad
day at the German quarter of the town for guides, and proceeded to the
reef.  Here, diving with a rope, they got the gun aboard; and the night
being then come, returned by the same route in the shallow water along
shore, singing a boat-song.  It will be seen with what childlike reliance
they had accepted the neutrality of Apia bay; they came for the gun
without concealment, laboriously dived for it in broad day under the eyes
of the town and shipping, and returned with it, singing as they went.  On
Grevsmuhl's wharf, a light showed them a crowd of German blue-jackets
clustered, and a hail was heard.  "Stop the singing so that we may hear
what is said," said one of the chiefs in the _taumualua_.  The song
ceased; the hail was heard again, "_Au mai le fana_--bring the gun"; and
the natives report themselves to have replied in the affirmative, and
declare that they had begun to back the boat.  It is perhaps not needful
to believe them.  A volley at least was fired from the wharf, at about
fifty yards' range and with a very ill direction, one bullet whistling
over Pelly's head on board the _Lizard_.  The natives jumped overboard;
and swimming under the lee of the _taumualua_ (where they escaped a
second volley) dragged her towards the east.  As soon as they were out of
range and past the Mulivai, the German border, they got on board and
(again singing--though perhaps a different song) continued their return
along the English and American shore.  Off Matautu they were hailed from
the seaward by one of the _Adler's_ boats, which had been suddenly
despatched on the sound of the firing or had stood ready all evening to
secure the gun.  The hail was in German; the Samoans knew not what it
meant, but took the precaution to jump overboard and swim for land.  Two
volleys and some dropping shot were poured upon them in the water; but
they dived, scattered, and came to land unhurt in different quarters of
Matautu.  The volleys, fired inshore, raked the highway, a British house
was again pierced by numerous bullets, and these sudden sounds of war
scattered consternation through the town.

Two British subjects, Hetherington-Carruthers, a solicitor, and Maben, a
land-surveyor--the first being in particular a man well versed in the
native mind and language--hastened at once to their consul; assured him
the Mataafas would be roused to fury by this onslaught in the neutral
zone, that the German quarter would be certainly attacked, and the rest
of the town and white inhabitants exposed to a peril very difficult of
estimation; and prevailed upon him to intrust them with a mission to the
king.  By the time they reached headquarters, the warriors were already
taking post round Matafele, and the agitation of Mataafa himself was
betrayed in the fact that he spoke with the deputation standing and gun
in hand: a breach of high-chief dignity perhaps unparalleled.  The usual
result, however, followed: the whites persuaded the Samoan; and the
attack was countermanded, to the benefit of all concerned, and not least
of Mataafa.  To the benefit of all, I say; for I do not think the Germans
were that evening in a posture to resist; the liquor-cellars of the firm
must have fallen into the power of the insurgents; and I will repeat my
formula that a mob is a mob, a drunken mob is a drunken mob, and a
drunken mob with weapons in its hands is a drunken mob with weapons in
its hands, all the world over.

In the opinion of some, then, the town had narrowly escaped destruction,
or at least the miseries of a drunken sack.  To the knowledge of all, the
air of the neutral territory had once more whistled with bullets.  And it
was clear the incident must have diplomatic consequences.  Leary and
Pelly both protested to Fritze.  Leary announced he should report the
affair to his government "as a gross violation of the principles of
international law, and as a breach of the neutrality."  "I positively
decline the protest," replied Fritze, "and cannot fail to express my
astonishment at the tone of your last letter."  This was trenchant.  It
may be said, however, that Leary was already out of court; that, after
the night signals and the Scanlon incident, and so many other acts of
practical if humorous hostility, his position as a neutral was no better
than a doubtful jest.  The case with Pelly was entirely different; and
with Pelly, Fritze was less well inspired.  In his first note, he was on
the old guard; announced that he had acted on the requisition of his
consul, who was alone responsible on "the legal side"; and declined
accordingly to discuss "whether the lives of British subjects were in
danger, and to what extent armed intervention was necessary."  Pelly
replied judiciously that he had nothing to do with political matters,
being only responsible for the safety of Her Majesty's ships under his
command and for the lives and property of British subjects; that he had
considered his protest a purely naval one; and as the matter stood could
only report the case to the admiral on the station.  "I have the honour,"
replied Fritze, "to refuse to entertain the protest concerning the safety
of Her Britannic Majesty's ship _Lizard_ as being a naval matter.  The
safety of Her Majesty's ship _Lizard_ was never in the least endangered.
This was guaranteed by the disciplined fire of a few shots under the
direction of two officers."  This offensive note, in view of Fritze's
careful and honest bearing among so many other complications, may be
attributed to some misunderstanding.  His small knowledge of English
perhaps failed him.  But I cannot pass it by without remarking how far
too much it is the custom of German officials to fall into this style.  It
may be witty, I am sure it is not wise.  It may be sometimes necessary to
offend for a definite object, it can never be diplomatic to offend
gratuitously.

Becker was more explicit, although scarce less curt.  And his defence may
be divided into two statements: first, that the _taumualua_ was
proceeding to land with a hostile purpose on Mulinuu; second, that the
shots complained of were fired by the Samoans.  The second may be
dismissed with a laugh.  Human nature has laws.  And no men hitherto
discovered, on being suddenly challenged from the sea, would have turned
their backs upon the challenger and poured volleys on the friendly shore.
The first is not extremely credible, but merits examination.  The story
of the recovered gun seems straightforward; it is supported by much
testimony, the diving operations on the reef seem to have been watched
from shore with curiosity; it is hard to suppose that it does not roughly
represent the fact.  And yet if any part of it be true, the whole of
Becker's explanation falls to the ground.  A boat which had skirted the
whole eastern coast of Mulinuu, and was already opposite a wharf in
Matafele, and still going west, might have been guilty on a thousand
points--there was one on which she was necessarily innocent; she was
necessarily innocent of proceeding on Mulinuu.  Or suppose the diving
operations, and the native testimony, and Pelly's chart of the boat's
course, and the boat itself, to be all stages of some epidemic
hallucination or steps in a conspiracy--suppose even a second _taumualua_
to have entered Apia bay after nightfall, and to have been fired upon
from Grevsmuhl's wharf in the full career of hostilities against
Mulinuu--suppose all this, and Becker is not helped.  At the time of the
first fire, the boat was off Grevsmuhl's wharf.  At the time of the
second (and that is the one complained of) she was off Carruthers's wharf
in Matautu.  Was she still proceeding on Mulinuu?  I trow not.  The
danger to German property was no longer imminent, the shots had been
fired upon a very trifling provocation, the spirit implied was that of
designed disregard to the neutrality.  Such was the impression here on
the spot; such in plain terms the statement of Count Hatzfeldt to Lord
Salisbury at home: that the neutrality of Apia was only "to prevent the
natives from fighting," not the Germans; and that whatever Becker might
have promised at the conference, he could not "restrict German
war-vessels in their freedom of action."

There was nothing to surprise in this discovery; and had events been
guided at the same time with a steady and discreet hand, it might have
passed with less observation.  But the policy of Becker was felt to be
not only reckless, it was felt to be absurd also.  Sudden nocturnal
onfalls upon native boats could lead, it was felt, to no good end whether
of peace or war; they could but exasperate; they might prove, in a
moment, and when least expected, ruinous.  To those who knew how nearly
it had come to fighting, and who considered the probable result, the
future looked ominous.  And fear was mingled with annoyance in the minds
of the Anglo-Saxon colony.  On the 24th, a public meeting appealed to the
British and American consuls.  At half-past seven in the evening guards
were landed at the consulates.  On the morrow they were each fortified
with sand-bags; and the subjects informed by proclamation that these
asylums stood open to them on any alarm, and at any hour of the day or
night.  The social bond in Apia was dissolved.  The consuls, like barons
of old, dwelt each in his armed citadel.  The rank and file of the white
nationalities dared each other, and sometimes fell to on the street like
rival clansmen.  And the little town, not by any fault of the
inhabitants, rather by the act of Becker, had fallen back in civilisation
about a thousand years.

There falls one more incident to be narrated, and then I can close with
this ungracious chapter.  I have mentioned the name of the new English
consul.  It is already familiar to English readers; for the gentleman who
was fated to undergo some strange experiences in Apia was the same de
Coetlogon who covered Hicks's flank at the time of the disaster in the
desert, and bade farewell to Gordon in Khartoum before the investment.
The colonel was abrupt and testy; Mrs. de Coetlogon was too exclusive for
society like that of Apia; but whatever their superficial disabilities,
it is strange they should have left, in such an odour of unpopularity, a
place where they set so shining an example of the sterling virtues.  The
colonel was perhaps no diplomatist; he was certainly no lawyer; but he
discharged the duties of his office with the constancy and courage of an
old soldier, and these were found sufficient.  He and his wife had no
ambition to be the leaders of society; the consulate was in their time no
house of feasting; but they made of it that house of mourning to which
the preacher tells us it is better we should go.  At an early date after
the battle of Matautu, it was opened as a hospital for the wounded.  The
English and Americans subscribed what was required for its support.  Pelly
of the _Lizard_ strained every nerve to help, and set up tents on the
lawn to be a shelter for the patients.  The doctors of the English and
American ships, and in particular Dr. Oakley of the _Lizard_, showed
themselves indefatigable.  But it was on the de Coetlogons that the
distress fell.  For nearly half a year, their lawn, their verandah,
sometimes their rooms, were cumbered with the sick and dying, their ears
were filled with the complaints of suffering humanity, their time was too
short for the multiplicity of pitiful duties.  In Mrs. de Coetlogon, and
her helper, Miss Taylor, the merit of this endurance was perhaps to be
looked for; in a man of the colonel's temper, himself painfully
suffering, it was viewed with more surprise, if with no more admiration.
Doubtless all had their reward in a sense of duty done; doubtless, also,
as the days passed, in the spectacle of many traits of gratitude and
patience, and in the success that waited on their efforts.  Out of a
hundred cases treated, only five died.  They were all well-behaved,
though full of childish wiles.  One old gentleman, a high chief, was
seized with alarming symptoms of belly-ache whenever Mrs. de Coetlogon
went her rounds at night: he was after brandy.  Others were insatiable
for morphine or opium.  A chief woman had her foot amputated under
chloroform.  "Let me see my foot!  Why does it not hurt?" she cried.  "It
hurt so badly before I went to sleep."  Siteoni, whose name has been
already mentioned, had his shoulder-blade excised, lay the longest of
any, perhaps behaved the worst, and was on all these grounds the
favourite.  At times he was furiously irritable, and would rail upon his
family and rise in bed until he swooned with pain.  Once on the balcony
he was thought to be dying, his family keeping round his mat, his father
exhorting him to be prepared, when Mrs. de Coetlogon brought him round
again with brandy and smelling-salts.  After discharge, he returned upon
a visit of gratitude; and it was observed, that instead of coming
straight to the door, he went and stood long under his umbrella on that
spot of ground where his mat had been stretched and he had endured pain
so many months.  Similar visits were the rule, I believe without
exception; and the grateful patients loaded Mrs. de Coetlogon with gifts
which (had that been possible in Polynesia) she would willingly have
declined, for they were often of value to the givers.

The tissue of my story is one of rapacity, intrigue, and the triumphs of
temper; the hospital at the consulate stands out almost alone as an
episode of human beauty, and I dwell on it with satisfaction.  But it was
not regarded at the time with universal favour; and even to-day its
institution is thought by many to have been impolitic.  It was opened, it
stood open, for the wounded of either party.  As a matter of fact it was
never used but by the Mataafas, and the Tamaseses were cared for
exclusively by German doctors.  In the progressive decivilisation of the
town, these duties of humanity became thus a ground of quarrel.  When the
Mataafa hurt were first brought together after the battle of Matautu, and
some more or less amateur surgeons were dressing wounds on a green by the
wayside, one from the German consulate went by in the road.  "Why don't
you let the dogs die?" he asked.  "Go to hell," was the rejoinder.  Such
were the amenities of Apia.  But Becker reserved for himself the extreme
expression of this spirit.  On November 7th hostilities began again
between the Samoan armies, and an inconclusive skirmish sent a fresh crop
of wounded to the de Coetlogons.  Next door to the consulate, some native
houses and a chapel (now ruinous) stood on a green.  Chapel and houses
were certainly Samoan, but the ground was under a land-claim of the
German firm; and de Coetlogon wrote to Becker requesting permission (in
case it should prove necessary) to use these structures for his wounded.
Before an answer came, the hospital was startled by the appearance of a
case of gangrene, and the patient was hastily removed into the chapel.  A
rebel laid on German ground--here was an atrocity!  The day before his
own relief, November 11th, Becker ordered the man's instant removal.  By
his aggressive carriage and singular mixture of violence and cunning, he
had already largely brought about the fall of Brandeis, and forced into
an attitude of hostility the whole non-German population of the islands.
Now, in his last hour of office, by this wanton buffet to his English
colleague, he prepared a continuance of evil days for his successor.  If
the object of diplomacy be the organisation of failure in the midst of
hate, he was a great diplomatist.  And amongst a certain party on the
beach he is still named as the ideal consul.




CHAPTER VII--THE SAMOAN CAMPS


_November_ 1888

When Brandeis and Tamasese fled by night from Mulinuu, they carried their
wandering government some six miles to windward, to a position above
Lotoanuu.  For some three miles to the eastward of Apia, the shores of
Upolu are low and the ground rises with a gentle acclivity, much of which
waves with German plantations.  A barrier reef encloses a lagoon passable
for boats: and the traveller skims there, on smooth, many-tinted
shallows, between the wall of the breakers on the one hand, and on the
other a succession of palm-tree capes and cheerful beach-side villages.
Beyond the great plantation of Vailele, the character of the coast is
changed.  The barrier reef abruptly ceases, the surf beats direct upon
the shore; and the mountains and untenanted forest of the interior
descend sheer into the sea.  The first mountain promontory is Letongo.
The bay beyond is called Laulii, and became the headquarters of Mataafa.
And on the next projection, on steep, intricate ground, veiled in forest
and cut up by gorges and defiles, Tamasese fortified his lines.  This
greenwood citadel, which proved impregnable by Samoan arms, may be
regarded as his front; the sea covered his right; and his rear extended
along the coast as far as Saluafata, and thus commanded and drew upon a
rich country, including the plain of Falefa.

He was left in peace from 11th October till November 6th.  But his
adversary is not wholly to be blamed for this delay, which depended upon
island etiquette.  His Savaii contingent had not yet come in, and to have
moved again without waiting for them would have been surely to offend,
perhaps to lose them.  With the month of November they began to arrive:
on the 2nd twenty boats, on the 3rd twenty-nine, on the 5th seventeen.  On
the 6th the position Mataafa had so long occupied on the skirts of Apia
was deserted; all that day and night his force kept streaming eastward to
Laulii; and on the 7th the siege of Lotoanuu was opened with a brisk
skirmish.

Each side built forts, facing across the gorge of a brook.  An endless
fusillade and shouting maintained the spirit of the warriors; and at
night, even if the firing slackened, the pickets continued to exchange
from either side volleys of songs and pungent pleasantries.  Nearer
hostilities were rendered difficult by the nature of the ground, where
men must thread dense bush and clamber on the face of precipices.  Apia
was near enough; a man, if he had a dollar or two, could walk in before a
battle and array himself in silk or velvet.  Casualties were not common;
there was nothing to cast gloom upon the camps, and no more danger than
was required to give a spice to the perpetual firing.  For the young
warriors it was a period of admirable enjoyment.  But the anxiety of
Mataafa must have been great and growing.  His force was now
considerable.  It was scarce likely he should ever have more.  That he
should be long able to supply them with ammunition seemed incredible; at
the rates then or soon after current, hundreds of pounds sterling might
be easily blown into the air by the skirmishers in the course of a few
days.  And in the meanwhile, on the mountain opposite, his outnumbered
adversary held his ground unshaken.

By this time the partisanship of the whites was unconcealed.  Americans
supplied Mataafa with ammunition; English and Americans openly subscribed
together and sent boat-loads of provisions to his camp.  One such boat
started from Apia on a day of rain; it was pulled by six oars, three
being paid by Moors, three by the MacArthurs; Moors himself and a clerk
of the MacArthurs' were in charge; and the load included not only beef
and biscuit, but three or four thousand rounds of ammunition.  They came
ashore in Laulii, and carried the gift to Mataafa.  While they were yet
in his house a bullet passed overhead; and out of his door they could see
the Tamasese pickets on the opposite hill.  Thence they made their way to
the left flank of the Mataafa position next the sea.  A Tamasese
barricade was visible across the stream.  It rained, but the warriors
crowded in their shanties, squatted in the mud, and maintained an excited
conversation.  Balls flew; either faction, both happy as lords, spotting
for the other in chance shots, and missing.  One point is characteristic
of that war; experts in native feeling doubt if it will characterise the
next.  The two white visitors passed without and between the lines to a
rocky point upon the beach.  The person of Moors was well known; the
purpose of their coming to Laulii must have been already bruited abroad;
yet they were not fired upon.  From the point they spied a crow's nest,
or hanging fortification, higher up; and, judging it was a good position
for a general view, obtained a guide.  He led them up a steep side of the
mountain, where they must climb by roots and tufts of grass; and coming
to an open hill-top with some scattered trees, bade them wait, let him
draw the fire, and then be swift to follow.  Perhaps a dozen balls
whistled about him ere he had crossed the dangerous passage and dropped
on the farther side into the crow's-nest; the white men, briskly
following, escaped unhurt.  The crow's-nest was built like a bartizan on
the precipitous front of the position.  Across the ravine, perhaps at
five hundred yards, heads were to be seen popping up and down in a fort
of Tamesese's.  On both sides the same enthusiasm without council, the
same senseless vigilance, reigned.  Some took aim; some blazed before
them at a venture.  Now--when a head showed on the other side--one would
take a crack at it, remarking that it would never do to "miss a chance."
Now they would all fire a volley and bob down; a return volley rang
across the ravine, and was punctually answered: harmless as lawn-tennis.
The whites expostulated in vain.  The warriors, drunken with noise, made
answer by a fresh general discharge and bade their visitors run while it
was time.  Upon their return to headquarters, men were covering the front
with sheets of coral limestone, two balls having passed through the house
in the interval.  Mataafa sat within, over his kava bowl, unmoved.  The
picture is of a piece throughout: excellent courage, super-excellent
folly, a war of school-children; expensive guns and cartridges used like
squibs or catherine-wheels on Guy Fawkes's Day.

On the 20th Mataafa changed his attack.  Tamasese's front was seemingly
impregnable.  Something must be tried upon his rear.  There was his bread-
basket; a small success in that direction would immediately curtail his
resources; and it might be possible with energy to roll up his line along
the beach and take the citadel in reverse.  The scheme was carried out as
might be expected from these childish soldiers.  Mataafa, always uneasy
about Apia, clung with a portion of his force to Laulii; and thus, had
the foe been enterprising, exposed himself to disaster.  The expedition
fell successfully enough on Saluafata and drove out the Tamaseses with a
loss of four heads; but so far from improving the advantage, yielded
immediately to the weakness of the Samoan warrior, and ranged farther
east through unarmed populations, bursting with shouts and blackened
faces into villages terrified or admiring, making spoil of pigs, burning
houses, and destroying gardens.  The Tamasese had at first evacuated
several beach towns in succession, and were still in retreat on Lotoanuu;
finding themselves unpursued, they reoccupied them one after another, and
re-established their lines to the very borders of Saluafata.  Night fell;
Mataafa had taken Saluafata, Tamasese had lost it; and that was all.  But
the day came near to have a different and very singular issue.  The
village was not long in the hands of the Mataafas, when a schooner,
flying German colours, put into the bay and was immediately surrounded by
their boats.  It chanced that Brandeis was on board.  Word of it had gone
abroad, and the boats as they approached demanded him with threats.  The
late premier, alone, entirely unarmed, and a prey to natural and painful
feelings, concealed himself below.  The captain of the schooner remained
on deck, pointed to the German colours, and defied approaching boats.
Again the prestige of a great Power triumphed; the Samoans fell back
before the bunting; the schooner worked out of the bay; Brandeis escaped.
He himself apprehended the worst if he fell into Samoan hands; it is my
diffident impression that his life would have been safe.

On the 22nd, a new German war-ship, the _Eber_, of tragic memory, came to
Apia from the Gilberts, where she had been disarming turbulent islands.
The rest of that day and all night she loaded stores from the firm, and
on the morrow reached Saluafata bay.  Thanks to the misconduct of the
Mataafas, the most of the foreshore was still in the hands of the
Tamaseses; and they were thus able to receive from the _Eber_ both the
stores and weapons.  The weapons had been sold long since to Tarawa,
Apaiang, and Pleasant Island; places unheard of by the general reader,
where obscure inhabitants paid for these instruments of death in money or
in labour, misused them as it was known they would be misused, and had
been disarmed by force.  The _Eber_ had brought back the guns to a German
counter, whence many must have been originally sold; and was here
engaged, like a shopboy, in their distribution to fresh purchasers.  Such
is the vicious circle of the traffic in weapons of war.  Another aid of a
more metaphysical nature was ministered by the _Eber_ to Tamasese, in the
shape of uncountable German flags.  The full history of this epidemic of
bunting falls to be told in the next chapter.  But the fact has to be
chronicled here, for I believe it was to these flags that we owe the
visit of the _Adams_, and my next and best authentic glance into a native
camp.  The _Adams_ arrived in Saluafata on the 26th.  On the morrow Leary
and Moors landed at the village.  It was still occupied by Mataafas,
mostly from Manono and Savaii, few in number, high in spirit.  The
Tamasese pickets were meanwhile within musket range; there was maintained
a steady sputtering of shots; and yet a party of Tamasese women were here
on a visit to the women of Manono, with whom they sat talking and
smoking, under the fire of their own relatives.  It was reported that
Leary took part in a council of war, and promised to join with his
broadside in the next attack.  It is certain he did nothing of the sort:
equally certain that, in Tamasese circles, he was firmly credited with
having done so.  And this heightens the extraordinary character of what I
have now to tell.  Prudence and delicacy alike ought to have forbid the
camp of Tamasese to the feet of either Leary or Moors.  Moors was the
original--there was a time when he had been the only--opponent of the
puppet king.  Leary had driven him from the seat of government; it was
but a week or two since he had threatened to bombard him in his present
refuge.  Both were in close and daily council with his adversary, and it
was no secret that Moors was supplying the latter with food.  They were
partisans; it lacked but a hair that they should be called belligerents;
it were idle to try to deny they were the most dangerous of spies.  And
yet these two now sailed across the bay and landed inside the Tamasese
lines at Salelesi.  On the very beach they had another glimpse of the
artlessness of Samoan war.  Hitherto the Tamasese fleet, being hardy and
unencumbered, had made a fool of the huge floating forts upon the other
side; and here they were toiling, not to produce another boat on their
own pattern in which they had always enjoyed the advantage, but to make a
new one the type of their enemies', of which they had now proved the
uselessness for months.  It came on to rain as the Americans landed; and
though none offered to oppose their coming ashore, none invited them to
take shelter.  They were nowise abashed, entered a house unbidden, and
were made welcome with obvious reserve.  The rain clearing off, they set
forth westward, deeper into the heart of the enemies' position.  Three or
four young men ran some way before them, doubtless to give warning; and
Leary, with his indomitable taste for mischief, kept inquiring as he went
after "the high chief" Tamasese.  The line of the beach was one
continuous breastwork; some thirty odd iron cannon of all sizes and
patterns stood mounted in embrasures; plenty grape and canister lay
ready; and at every hundred yards or so the German flag was flying.  The
numbers of the guns and flags I give as I received them, though they test
my faith.  At the house of Brandeis--a little, weatherboard house,
crammed at the time with natives, men, women, and squalling
children--Leary and Moors again asked for "the high chief," and, were
again assured that he was farther on.  A little beyond, the road ran in
one place somewhat inland, the two Americans had gone down to the line of
the beach to continue their inspection of the breastwork, when Brandeis
himself, in his shirt-sleeves and accompanied by several German officers,
passed them by the line of the road.  The two parties saluted in silence.
Beyond Eva Point there was an observable change for the worse in the
reception of the Americans; some whom they met began to mutter at Moors;
and the adventurers, with tardy but commendable prudence, desisted from
their search after the high chief, and began to retrace their steps.  On
the return, Suatele and some chiefs were drinking kava in a "big house,"
and called them in to join--their only invitation.  But the night was
closing, the rain had begun again: they stayed but for civility, and
returned on board the _Adams_, wet and hungry, and I believe delighted
with their expedition.  It was perhaps the last as it was certainly one
of the most extreme examples of that divinity which once hedged the white
in Samoa.  The feeling was already different in the camp of Mataafa,
where the safety of a German loiterer had been a matter of extreme
concern.  Ten days later, three commissioners, an Englishman, an
American, and a German, approached a post of Mataafas, were challenged by
an old man with a gun, and mentioned in answer what they were.  "_Ifea
Siamani_?  Which is the German?" cried the old gentleman, dancing, and
with his finger on the trigger; and the commissioners stood somewhile in
a very anxious posture, till they were released by the opportune arrival
of a chief.  It was November the 27th when Leary and Moors completed
their absurd excursion; in about three weeks an event was to befall which
changed at once, and probably for ever, the relations of the natives and
the whites.