Fifty-One Years of Victorian Life Part 21

Apart from this quaint strain of simple satisfaction with himself and his surroundings he was the kindest of men, and I was a.s.sured that when it came to his legal work all his oddities were cast aside and that he was an excellent and capable Commissioner.

[Sidenote: R. L. STEVENSON]

On the evening following our arrival he invited Robert Louis Stevenson and Mrs. Stevenson to dinner, and if we had already felt the fascination of Utopia we then fell under the spell of the Enchanter who evoked all the magic woven round its land and sea. I shall never forget the moment when I first saw him and his wife standing at the door of the long, wood-panelled room in Ruge's Building. A slim, dark-haired, bright-eyed figure in a loose, black velvet jacket over his white vest and trousers, and a scarlet silk sash round his waist. By his side the short, dark woman with cropped, curly hair and the strange piercing glance which had won for her the name in native tongue, "The Witch Woman of the Mountain."

Stevenson was never one to keep all the treasures of his imagination and humour for his books. Every word, every gesture revealed the man, and he gave one the impression that life was for him a game to be shared with his friends and played n.o.bly to the end. I think that Matthew Arnold's "Empedocles on Etna" expressed him when he sang:

"Is it so small a thing To have enjoy'd the sun, To have lived light in the spring, To have loved, to have thought, to have done; To have advanced true friends, and beat down baffling foes?"

But Stevenson, braver to confront life than Empedocles, would not have leapt into the crater!

At that dinner, which inaugurated our friendship, a very merry talk somehow turned on publishers and publishing. It began, if I remember rightly, with a reference to Mrs. Humphry Ward's latest book, for which she was reported to have received a number of thousands which both Stevenson and Haggard p.r.o.nounced to be incredible, Haggard speaking from his brother's experience and Stevenson from his own. Thereupon it was suggested by someone, and carried unanimously, that we should form an "Apia Publishing Company"; and later on in Haggard's absence the rest of us determined to write a story of which our host should be hero, and the name, suggested, I think, by Stevenson, was to be _An Object of Pity, or the Man Haggard_.

Before this was completed various incidents occurred which were incorporated into the tale. Another friend of Mr. Haggard was the British Consul, Mr. Cusack Smith, and he took us to tea with him and his pretty wife on the Sunday afternoon following our arrival. They lived in a pleasant bungalow of which the compound--or lawn--was enlivened by a good-sized turtle tied to a post, which was being kept ready to be slaughtered and cooked when we came to dine with them!

The question of fresh meat was not altogether easy to solve in Samoa. We, knowing that there were certain difficulties, had brought with us a provision of tongues and similar preserved foods, also of champagne, but there were few cows and oxen, and sheep were impossible to rear on the island--at least so far means had not been found to feed them amongst the luxuriant tangle of tropical vegetation. Preserved provisions, including b.u.t.ter, were mostly brought from New Zealand. Samoa itself provided skinny chickens, some kind of pigeon, yams, taros, and of course fish.

The occasional great treat was pig cooked in the native oven, an excellent kitchen arrangement. A hole was dug in the ground, the object to be cooked was wrapped up in leaves and placed between hot stones; the whole was then covered up with earth and left long enough for the meat to be thoroughly soft and cooked through; when opened nothing could be more tender.

[Sidenote: KING MALIETOA]

Among other entertainments we were invited to dine by King Malietoa, to whom we had already paid a formal visit of ceremony. The banquet, which took place about three in the afternoon, was laid on a long cloth spread on the ground and consisted of all sorts of native delicacies, including a dish of a peculiar kind of worm, and, besides pig and pigeon, of vegetables cooked in various ways. The staff of the monarch included an orator or "Talking Man," and a jester, thereby recalling the attendants of the Duke of Austria in _The Talisman_.

The Talking Man, whose badge of office was a fly-whisk, carried over his shoulder, had had his innings at our formal reception, but the jester came in very useful at the banquet. We were told that one of his most successful jokes was to s.n.a.t.c.h away pieces of the food placed before the King. On this occasion he was crouched just behind Malietoa and myself.

Part of the regal etiquette was for the monarch to give me a piece of any delicacy in his fingers, but he always tactfully looked the other way when he had done so, thereby giving me the chance of slipping it into the hands of the jester, who consumed it chuckling with glee.

Malietoa was a gentle, amiable being who seemed rather oppressed by the position into which he had been thrust by the Powers. His rival Mataafa was undoubtedly the stronger character of the two, and appealed to the romantic instincts of Stevenson, who was his personal friend.

Stevenson and Haggard between them therefore concocted a plot whereby I was to visit incognita the camp in the mountains of the rebel potentate.

As it would not do to keep my own name, my husband being then Governor of New South Wales, I was to become Stevenson's cousin, Amelia Balfour, and he wrote beforehand to ask that accommodation should be provided for me with the ladies of this royal house, as I was not well accustomed to Island customs.

This is how Stevenson later on described the encounter in the very fragmentary "Samoid":

"Two were the troops that encountered; one from the way of the sh.o.r.e, And the house where at night, by the timid, the Judge[2] may be heard to roar, And one from the side of the mountain. Now these at the trysting spot Arrived and lay in the shade. Nor let their names be forgot.

So these in the shade awaited the hour, and the hour went by; And ever they watched the ford of the stream with an anxious eye; And care, in the shade of the grove, consumed them, a doubtful crew, As they harboured close from the bands of the men of Mulinuu But the heart of the Teller of Tales (Tusitala) at length could endure no more, He loosed his steed from the thicket, and pa.s.sed to the nearer sh.o.r.e, And back through the land of his foes, steering his steed, and still Scouting for enemies hidden. And lo! under Vaca Hill At the crook of the road a clatter of hoofs and a glitter of white!

And there came the band from the seaward, swift as a pigeon's flight.

Two were but there to return: the Judge of the t.i.tles of land; He of the lion's hair, bearded, boisterous, bland; And the maid that was named for the pearl,[3] a maid of another isle, Light as a daisy rode, and gave us the light of her smile.

But two to pursue the adventure: one that was called the Queen Light as the maid, her daughter, rode with us veiled in green, And deep in the cloud of the veil, like a deer's in a woodland place, The fire of the two dark eyes, in the field of the unflushed face.

And one her brother[4] that bore the name of a knight of old, Rode at her heels unmoved; and the gla.s.s in his eye was cold.

Bright is the sun in the brook; bright are the winter stars, Brighter the gla.s.s in the eye of that captain of hussars."

The adventurous party consisted of R.L.S., his stepson Lloyd Osbourne, his stepdaughter Mrs. Strong (nee Osbourne), and a young native chief Henry Simele, my brother, and myself. It was arranged with infinite, but somewhat futile, secrecy that Mr. Haggard, my daughter and I, with Rupert should ride out in the afternoon and find the Vailima party awaiting us at the Gasi-gasi Ford. This duly came off; we were rather late, and found our companions crouching, excited, at the appointed spot in the att.i.tude proper for conspirators.

[Sidenote: THE ENCHANTED FOREST]

Haggard and my daughter thereupon returned to Ruge's Buildings, and the rest of us pursued our way through the enchanted forest, past groves of bananas, and up the mountain. From time to time little stiles barring the narrow paths had to be negotiated; some Europeans explorers had imagined that these were a kind of fortification to protect Mataafa's quarters, but really they were nothing more romantic than fences to keep pigs from wandering.

Nature in Samoa everywhere erected natural screens for those who desired concealment in the extraordinary luxuriance of her tangled vegetation: overhead, broad-leaved forest trees interlacing their branches so that it was possible to ride even at midday under a tropical sun; below, the long and varied creeping plants which went under the general name of "vines,"

and which rendered progress difficult except where narrow tracks had been cleared leading from one little village to another. Mostly, however, the villagers were within easy reach of the seash.o.r.e, partly for convenience of fishing, partly as being accessible in boats. The villagers loved to visit their friends, rowing pleasantly from place to place within the lagoons which circled the Island.

To return to our journey. Among other instances of tropical luxuriance, we pa.s.sed a quant.i.ty of sensitive plant. The original plant had been placed by a member of a German firm on his child's grave, thence it had quickly spread and had become a perfect pest in the surrounding districts. My horse was an extremely lanky and skinny animal which Mr. Haggard had procured for my use, and which alternately rejoiced in the names of "Pedigree" and "Starvation," the latter seeming more appropriate. R.L.S.

rode a fat little pony. Mrs. Strong subsequently caricatured our progress by representing me very tall with an extremely tight waistband, and Stevenson looking upward from his diminutive steed.

Mrs. Strong, be it understood, regarded any kind of fitting garment as a foolish superfluity. On this occasion she had donned corsets for the convenience of a long ride, but when, in the twilight, we neared our destination she slipped them off and gave them to an attendant, bidding him be a good boy and carry them for her.

[Sidenote: KING MATAAFA]

As we approached the royal abode we were met first by a man beating a drum, then by the whole population, and heard many remarks interchanged in low tones; my companions told me that they referred to the "Tamaiti Sili"

or "Great Lady," showing how singularly ineffectual was my disguise. If any proof of this were needed it was soon supplied. Mataafa, a very fine old man, received us most courteously, attended specially by a remarkable old gentleman called Popo, who had curiously aquiline features quite unlike the ordinary native. Stevenson thus described him:

"He who had worshipped feathers and sh.e.l.ls and wood, As a pillar alone in the desert that points where a city stood, Survived the world that was his, playmates and G.o.ds and tongue-- For even the speech of his race had altered since Popo was young.

And ages of time and epochs of changing manners bowed, And the silent hosts of the dead wondered and muttered aloud With him, as he bent and marvelled, a man of the time of the Ark, And saluted the ungloved hand of the Lady of Osterley Park."

We were first presented with refreshing cocoa-nuts, and after profuse compliments, conveyed through the interpreter, dinner, or supper, was prepared on a small wooden table in the background. It consisted of pigeon, chickens, taros, and yams, but poor Mataafa, who had previously adjourned for evening service, could not share the birds because it was a fast day. He was a Roman Catholic--another point of difference between him and Malietoa, who was a Protestant.

After the evening repast came the kava ceremony. As is well known, kava is a drink made from the roots of the pepper-tree, chewed by young persons (who have first carefully washed their teeth), and then soaked in water.

To me it always tasted rather like soapy water, but it is most popular with the natives, who will sit at festivities drinking large quant.i.ties.

It is said to have no effect on the head, but to numb the lower limbs if too much is imbibed.

At special ceremonies, however, it is somewhat in the nature of a loving-cup, only each guest has a cocoa-nut sh.e.l.l refilled from the general wooden-legged bowl for his benefit. The kava is always given in strict order of precedence, and the interest was to see whether Mataafa would give the first cup to Stevenson as a man, and head of the family, or to me, a mere woman and ostensibly a female relative, as in the latter case it would show that he saw through my cousinly pretensions. It was rather a curious scene in the dimly lighted native house--chairs for the King and his European guests, while the interpreter, Henry Simele, and the native henchmen squatted near-by. With an indescribable expression of suppressed amus.e.m.e.nt Mataafa handed the cup to me, whereupon Stevenson, with a delightful twinkle of his eye, exclaimed, "Oh, Amelia, you're a very bad conspirator!"

Stevenson and my brother were then taken off to another house, while Mrs.

Strong and I were escorted to the couch prepared for us--a large pile of soft mats enclosed in a mosquito curtain, with two pillows side by side at the head.

A native house has often been described. It is generally a roof shaped like an inverted boat of wooden beams supported on posts and thatched with palm-leaves. Its size varies greatly according to the position and wealth of the owner. Mataafa's was a large one and his mats were beautiful. There was only one room, and in a general way no one would have demurred at sleeping all together. However, in this case a large tappa curtain was let down in the centre; the King and his warriors slept on one side, and the other formed the apartment of Mrs. Strong and myself.

Mrs. Strong was a most entertaining companion, and told me stories of American experience before we both composed ourselves to sleep. She was much amused by my one preparation for evening toilet, which was a toothbrush; but I had to go outside the matting curtains suspended between the posts to use it, as all cooking and washing was bound to take place where nothing should spoil the beautiful mats carpeting the house proper.

I found guards outside waiting in the darkness, and when he heard of my excursion Stevenson declared that my teeth would become historic. It is not to be supposed that the natives neglect cleanliness--they constantly bathe in the sea and in streams, but all washing takes place outside, not inside, their houses.

[Sidenote: THE KAVA CEREMONY]

Next morning we adjourned from the private abode to Mataafa's large new Parliament House, where all his chiefs were a.s.sembled for public or King's kava. They sat round in a sort of circle, each representing one of the royal "names" or tribes.

Without going into the intricacies of Samoan genealogy it may be explained that no Prince could properly be King of the whole group unless he could prove his t.i.tle to rule over all the "names." As it seemed that neither Malietoa nor Mataafa could do this, their quarrel was unlikely ever to be decided except by force and by the support given to one or the other from outside. Anyhow, a great number of "names" were represented on this occasion and the scene was very interesting.

This Parliament House was said to be the largest native building in Samoa, and was certainly fine and well constructed. On the cross-beams of the central "roof-tree" were three painted wooden birds, emblems of the King's house, as his father had been called "King of the Birds."

The King and his guests again sat on chairs, the chiefs squatted on the ground. This time, being public, the King, with true courtesy, accepted my ostensible position, and gave the kava first to R.L.S.; after the rest of us had drunk, it was carried to each chief in turn, and in several cases curious rites accompanied their acceptance of the cup. In one case an old man had to lie down and be ma.s.saged for an imaginary ailment, in another the kava was poured over a _stone_ which stood for one of the "names"

whose human representative was lacking. The most dramatic incident was when a fine-looking chief, who was a sort of War Lord in Mataafa's army, five times refused the cup with a very haughty air before condescending to drink, which he then had to do five times. We were told that this was in memory of an ancestor who had refused water when no supply could be obtained for his king, recalling the story of David pouring out the water obtained at the risk of his captains' lives.

When all was over some of the chiefs were presented to us, particularly the War Lord, who had laid by his truculent manners and was very smiling and amiable. He had had two drinks, first as Head of the Forces, later on as Headman of his Village--so was in great form.

Poor Mataafa! After we left the Islands war broke out again, his forces were finally defeated, and I believe that he died in exile. My stolen visit to him will, however, be always a most delightful recollection.

We also paid our respects to Tamasese, son of the "German King," previous to spending a night with the Wesleyan Missionary and his wife. Tamasese was out when we arrived, as he did not expect us so early. We had started in the Commissioner's boat at 4 a.m., and saw the sun rise over the locked lagoon. We were, however, most courteously received by his handsome wife Viti, who besides her tappa lava-lava wore a kind of double bib or sleeveless jumper falling to the waist before and behind, with a hole in the middle for her head to go through. This ingenious garment was made of cotton pocket-handkerchiefs not yet cut apart for sale and printed with portraits of prize-fighters.