TRISTAN DA CUNHA[13]
We arrived at Tristan da Cunha on May 20th, 1922, just as dawn was
breaking. A fine rain was falling and all the upper part of the island
was shrouded in mist. The islanders seemed to be still in bed, for we
saw no signs of activity until Commander Wild blew the steam whistle,
which brought them running from their houses in haste, evidently very
excited, for we saw them pointing towards us. The men ran down a steep
winding path leading to a beach of black sand where a number of boats
were drawn up. They launched the boats and came out towards us as fast
as they could row.
At first sight the people presented a curious spectacle. They were
rather a wild-looking lot, and were clothed in every conceivable kind
of male attire, which seemed to be the cast-off clothing of sailors
who had called at the island. One man in particular was wearing the
queerest mixture: an evening dress jacket, striped cotton shirt,
dungaree trousers, whilst on his head was an officer’s peaked cap!
The majority of them were white, but many showed signs of a coloured
ancestry in a dusky complexion and features of a distinctly negroid
type.
Their boats attracted our attention, for they are made of canvas over a
framework of wood. These are ingenious pieces of work and built on very
shapely lines. The canvas is begged from passing ships. The crosspieces
are made from the branches of small, stunted apple trees which are
grown on the island, but for the pieces which form the keel and the
main part of the frame they are dependent on chance bits of driftwood
thrown up on the beaches.
On this day there was a considerable swell running, which made it
dangerous for more than one boat to come alongside at a time, the
others lying off at a safe distance. It was apparent that the islanders
did not care to submit their frail craft to any more bumping than was
necessary. In their excitement they made a tremendous noise, shouting
to each other in voices which were curiously thin and high-pitched.
As soon as the first boat came alongside a strong active man with a
cheery face leapt on to our gunwale and clambered aboard. He told us
his name was John Glass, and he seized those of us whom he could reach
in turn by the hand, exclaiming in a piping voice that contrasted
strangely with his powerful frame: “I’m glad to see you all. How are
you? Have you had a good trip?” Another man, taller and more slimly
built, quickly followed him and made his way to the bridge. He was
wearing an old khaki overcoat, and was shod on one foot with a worn-out
leather boot and on the other with a sort of moccasin made of cowskin.
Several others came aboard and started at once to ask for things,
saying: “Say, Mister, you ain’t got an old pair of boots, have you?” or
“Mister, I’m building a boat—can you spare a few nails?” “Mister, can
I have a piece of salt beef?”—always the prefix of “Mister,” said in
a most ingratiating tone. The requests were made to anybody whom they
encountered, no matter how busily engaged. When told to “Wait a little
and we’ll see what can be done,” they would say, for example, “Well,
my name’s Swaine—young Sam Swaine, son of old Sam Swaine. You won’t
forget, will you?” Often two or three of them bombarded one man at the
same time, when they raised their voices, both in volume and pitch.
They made themselves such a general nuisance in this way and, together
with those in the boats, who kept calling continually to those aboard,
raised such a pandemonium that Commander Wild approached John Glass
and asked him if there was a “head-man” of the island or recognized
representative of the community.
John Glass promptly replied, “I am!” but continued in the same breath,
“There ain’t no head-man now. Bob Glass, my brother—that’s him on the
bridge—he’s head-man. Anyways, he’s the best one for you to talk to.
He’s got the larnin’!” Having “got the larnin’” meant that he could
read and write.
Bob Glass was told to remain on the ship. The rest were packed off
into their boats and sent ashore to await the blowing of the steam
whistle as a signal for their return. Glass, the tall, slim man who
had made for the bridge, proved to be an intelligent fellow. We asked
him to have breakfast with us. He accepted the invitation without
embarrassment, and showed himself much more at ease than one would have
expected from anyone living in so remote a part of the world.
From him Commander Wild learnt that there had been only one ship to
the island in the last eighteen months—a Japanese steamer, which had
brought a missionary and his wife, but which had immediately proceeded
without letting them have supplies of any kind. Glass had made his way
to the captain in the hope that an explanation of their needs and of
their peculiar situation might induce him to allow them some stores,
but he was promptly ordered off the ship. The captain, relenting a
little at the last moment, gave him as a personal present a bundle of
coloured postcards, all of them with the same picture—a very highly
coloured impressionistic view of Fuji-yama, the sacred mountain of
Japan! They had received quite a considerable mail from people in the
outside world who took an interest in this isolated community, but, as
Glass remarked contemptuously, “Chiefly clothes for the womenfolk.” The
missionary had brought some supplies, but, according to our informant,
hardly enough for himself and his wife. The people were at the present
time very badly off and were, indeed, destitute of what elsewhere might
well be considered absolute essentials, such as articles of clothing,
cooking and table utensils, wood, canvas for the upkeep of their boats,
nails, tools, rope, wire, etc. For a long time they had been without
luxuries in the way of food, such as tea, sugar, flour or biscuit, and
commodities such as soap, candles, etc.
In the old days, said Glass, the settlement had been much better off,
for ships had appeared within reach of their boats many times a year,
and with them they had bartered live stock and potatoes, produced on
the island, for what they themselves required in the way of general
commodities. Nowadays, ships seemed to have entirely left the ocean,
and they were in a bad way.
He and his brother, John Glass, are direct descendants of Corporal
William Glass, who founded the settlement. He accounted for his
“larnin’” and general knowledge of conditions by the fact that he had
been away from the island for eighteen years, had apparently travelled
a good deal on one job and another, and mixed with people. During
the South African war he had served with Kitchener’s Scouts, and had
received the Queen’s medal. We gathered that he was not lacking in
common sense and had a pretty shrewd knowledge of the value of things.
Of the truth of his statements with regard to the condition of the
community there could be little doubt, and a visit to the settlement
made later in the day showed that he had not exaggerated. They made
an earnest appeal to us for help, and Commander Wild decided to do all
that was in his power to alleviate their hardships.
We had, fortunately, on board a considerable quantity of bulk stores
in the way of biscuits, flour, Brazilian meal, beans, etc., which had
been kept in reserve in view of the possibility of our being frozen in
and compelled to winter in the Antarctic. These Commander Wild offered
to Glass, with as much as could be spared from our stores of a wide
variety of foods, such as tea, sugar, coffee, cocoa, dried milk, Quaker
oats, lentils, split peas, jam, chocolate, cheese, tinned meats, tinned
fish, salt beef, candles, matches and soap. We gave them also from the
deck stores a quantity of planking, rope, wire, nails, paint, canvas,
and two good spars.
In addition to this we had brought with us in the ship a large
letter and parcel mail and numerous packages sent privately for the
islanders, including several sent in gratitude by a sailor who had
been shipwrecked there and who had been very kindly treated. We had
a busy day getting all these goods out of the hold and stacking them
along the ship’s side ready to be placed in the boats. When all was
ready we signalled the return of the others, who, as soon as they
had approached to within a measurable distance of the ship, started
shouting innumerable questions to Bob Glass. The purport of them all
was: “What are they going to give us?”
Glass clambered on to the gunwale of the ship and started shouting back
in a high, piping voice. We saw their faces, which had worn a look
of anxiety, suddenly break into smiles when they heard what we could
do, and they became like a lot of schoolboys informed of a holiday,
shouting gleefully to each other and singing snatches of song. Indeed,
these people are very childlike in many of their ways.
The loading was an awkward job. Everything had to be lowered slowly and
carefully over the side and placed gently in the boats, for, being made
of canvas and frail craft at best, anything dropped into them with a
bump would assuredly have gone through the bottom. The difficulty was
increased by the swell and the rolling of the _Quest_, which caused
the boats to rise and fall and surge in and out in the most awkward
manner. We were interested to note that many of the islanders who came
aboard were sea-sick, but recovered when they clambered back into their
own boats. Evidently they were used to the short, quick motion of the
smaller boats, whilst the more pronounced roll of the _Quest_ upset
them. They plied to and fro till everything was ashore, where it was
stacked in an imposing pile at the top of the beach.
[Illustration: NIGHTINGALE ISLAND
_Photo: Dr. Macklin_]
[Illustration: INACCESSIBLE ISLAND
_Photo: Wilkins_]
[Illustration: THE WIRELESS POLE IN PROCESS OF ERECTION FOR THE
MISSIONARY AT TRISTAN DA CUNHA. McLEOD, WATTS AND COMMANDER WILD
STANDING BY POLE
_Photo: Dr. Macklin_]
[Illustration: CARR AND DOUGLAS WITH TWO TRISTAN GUIDES HENRY GREEN AND
GLASS
_Photo: Wilkins_]
After lunch I went ashore with Worsley and some others of the party.
We went in an “island” boat. Worsley, known amongst the South Sea
Islanders as “Tally ho,” from his habit when approaching through the
surf of shouting the well-known hunting call, “Yoicks! Tally ho, tally
ho, tally ho-ooo-oh!” insisted on taking the steer oar, and as the
boat neared the beach raised his cry, to the amusement of the crew
and the people on shore. They enjoy little jokes. On the beach there
was a scene of activity. The goods were being loaded into small carts,
each drawn by two bullocks. They were rough and primitive affairs. The
wheels were made from sections of a tree which had been blown up on the
island some years previously. The oxen were small but strong looking.
The way from the beach led up a winding rocky pathway to the top of a
cliff, and thence along to the settlement, distant about half a mile.
Tristan da Cunha, in the greater part of its extent, is very
mountainous, but on the northern side there is a stretch of flat
land about six miles long and from half to one mile deep. Behind it
rises the mountain, sheer and steep, to a height of from two to three
thousand feet, from where it slopes more gradually to the summit. In
front cliffs, fifty or sixty feet high, drop abruptly to the sea, but
are broken here and there by beaches of black sand.
The settlement, composed of a number of small stone cottages, is
situated on the eastern end of the flat land, which is grass-covered
and strewn with boulders. The western end provides good grazing ground
for sheep and cattle, and in the sheltered spots small portions are set
aside for growing potatoes.
On the way we met several women and children. The women were well built
and healthy looking, and wore, like the men, a variety of clothing.
They also showed differences of colour and feature, one whom I noticed
being quite blonde. The children are attractive, very quiet and demure
in their deportment—what the islanders themselves call “old fashioned.”
I do not think their demureness was altogether due to the presence of
strangers amongst them, for before I finally left the island I had had
a chance to observe them in their play and made friends with a number
of them, but I never saw anything approaching boisterousness.
In many respects the settlement differed little from an Irish village.
Geese waddled about the common and showed their resentment of too
close an approach with the usual hissing and stretching of the neck.
All about were little pigs—long-nosed and lean-flanked, obviously not
far removed in type from the original “wild pig”—which were rooting
up the earth with their snouts. Each had an attendant fowl which
accompanied it in its movements and picked at the newly turned earth.
There are a number of dogs on the island, mongrel curs of which one
would grudge even the admission that they were “just dog,” and there
seems to be a regular feud between them and the pigs. Whenever a dog,
accompanying his master on a walk, encounters a pig, it rushes up,
barking furiously, and only desists when the pig, squealing violently,
is stretched at full speed. The pig gets very angry, but immediately
after goes on rooting. There was something very ludicrous about this
little piece of byplay, which always provoked a laugh from us. On the
slope behind the settlement a flock of sheep, numbering a hundred or
so, was grazing. Here and there about the common I saw donkeys, all of
them very diminutive.
At the entrance to the settlement we came to a brisk little stream of
clear water, which we crossed by a ford. We were met by Mr. Rogers, the
missionary, who had recently come to the island.
There are in all about twenty completed houses and others of which the
walls have been built, but which, from lack of material, have never
been roofed over. The first one we came to belonged to Henry Green, a
small, self-reliant man whom we had already met on the ship. He gave
us a cordial invitation to come in at any time we cared. He had a small
flagstaff, from which flew a Union Jack that had been presented to the
islanders.
Commander Wild had detailed me to stay on Tristan da Cunha whilst
the ship proceeded to Nightingale and Inaccessible Islands, and I now
made inquiries as to where I could stay. Bob Glass said immediately:
“You come right ’long to my house, and I’ll tell my wife she got to
look after you and give you everything she got, which ain’t much, I
may tell you.” He now led me to it, and introduced me to his wife and
family, which numbered eight—six boys and two girls. His wife, who was
a second wife and not the mother of any of his children, was a very
pleasant woman, with quiet, natural manners. She told me she would be
glad to put me up for as long as I cared to stay on the island. The
members of the family varied in age from a young man of twenty-two
years—who was married and had two children of his own—to a bright lad
of eight. The girls, aged twenty and seventeen respectively, seemed
to be very pleasant, but had little to say, being, I think, rather shy
and bashful in the presence of a stranger. Bob Glass said to me after:
“That gel Wilet”—Violet, the elder—“she’s a foine gel; me and she never
had a crōss word. But that there Dōrothee—she’s wery loively.” Quite
what form the liveliness took I never learnt, but his words led me to
believe that Miss Dorothy was a less dutiful and obedient daughter than
Violet.
This house resembles all the other houses of the settlement, which
are erected to more or less the same design, being long, low, oblong
structures built of stones of considerable size and weight. The side
walls are usually a little more than two feet thick, and the end walls
are heavily buttressed. They all face the same way, so as to be end on
to the prevailing winds, which blow at times with great strength and
with sudden violent gusts.
The roofs are composed of wooden beams, and are thatched over with
tussock grass, which is made into bundles and lashed securely to the
beams so that they overlap from above downwards. A layer of turf is
placed to cover the apex where the two sides meet. The ceilings and
floors are made of wood—odd pieces begged from ships, taken from
packing cases or found along the seashore—collected only with much
patience over a period of months or years before enough is accumulated
for the purpose. Much of the planking in the older houses has been
derived from ships wrecked on one or other of the islands. In the house
of Mrs. Repetto there is a piece from the stern of a small vessel
bearing the name _Mabel Clarke_ which had gone ashore forty years
previously. The insides of the stone walls are faced with wood in the
same way. The space left between thatch and ceiling is used universally
as a store room. Windows, except in the case of one of the houses,
are on one side only, and face the sea to enable a good look out to be
kept for passing ships. The exception is in the house just mentioned,
that of Mrs. Repetto, whose husband (deceased), an Italian sailor,
survivor of a ship wrecked on the island, must have been a man of much
ingenuity and practical ability, for the house is much better equipped
and furnished in every way than any other in the settlement.
Taken on the whole, the houses keep remarkably dry and are durable,
though the tussock thatch often requires renewing in patches and the
turf is often lifted away in the fiercer gales. They are divided, in
the majority of cases, by a single wall into living-room and bedroom,
but a few have an additional room. There is a fireplace at one end of
the living-room made of stone, with two or three pieces of iron let
in. In some of the houses the cooking is done in these fireplaces, but
in others, especially where the family is a large one, an annexe is
built on to the end of the house to act as a kitchen. In one or two of
the better houses a separate kitchen is included in the main building.
Each house boasts a table and some chairs, often very rickety, and
most of them have also a wooden settee, or “sofa,” as it is generally
called. Some possess tablecloths and sofa covers and have a few bright
pictures on the walls. Others are lacking in these luxuries, the walls
being bare or adorned only with one or two tracts. As a rule the houses
are kept clean, but in this they vary very much, depending upon the
occupants. One must understand some of the difficulties they have in
this respect. Brushes and brooms are a rarity; they use whisks made
from the “island tree,” which answer only moderately well. They are
often without soap, and when there is any on the island it has to be
used with the greatest economy. Taking everything into consideration, I
think they are to be congratulated upon what they achieve in this way.
Rats came ashore from a ship called the _Henry B. Paul_, wrecked on
the back of the island. They increased and multiplied so rapidly that
they have overrun the place and are found in the lofts of every house.
To combat them a few cats are kept, but whilst I was living ashore I
preferred the company of the rats to that of the cats, which are most
unpleasant brutes and more than half wild.
Fleas swarm all over the settlement, and none of the houses seem to be
wholly free from them. As a doctor, I had occasion to examine many of
the people. Nearly all of them were extensively flea-bitten, but some
seemed to have escaped their ravages. I found no trace of other body
parasites.
Any man starting to build a house here sets himself a difficult task.
The stone is fairly easily obtained and set up. Boulders carried down
from the mountain strew the lower slopes, and there are plenty in the
neighbourhood of the settlement. They are brought in by securing them
with chains to which bullocks are attached, the number of animals
varying with the size of the boulder. They are dragged bodily over
the ground, the work, however, being the easier in that most of the
distance is down hill. Soft boulders are selected, and are cut to shape
with small axes. A number of men sit or kneel about the boulder to be
cut, chipping away little pieces in turn with rapid strokes of the axe.
Wood presents to the prospective builder a much harder problem, and
many a young man anxious to marry or a young married couple eager
for their own home have to spend long weary months, or even years,
in accumulating the wood necessary to make the roof, the ceiling
or the floor. The shores, not only of Tristan da Cunha, but also
of Inaccessible and Nightingale Islands, are eagerly searched for
driftwood. Especially is it difficult to collect the crossbeams, those
in existence having come from wrecked ships. The islanders regard it
as a regrettable fact that “wracks” are becoming more and more scarce.
Many of the occupied houses are only partially ceilinged over, and
have holes in the floor which their occupants are unable to complete
or repair for lack of the necessary wood. The holes in the floor, if
not too large, are covered by boxes in which belongings, the _lares et
penates_, are kept.
When completed, the houses make snug little dwellings and adequately
meet the needs of the islanders.
As Commander Wild was not leaving for Inaccessible Island till next
day, I slept that night on the _Quest_, but told Mrs. Glass that I
should come ashore the next day to stay. I felt that my board might be
a bit of a burden to her, and was anxious to bring with me sufficient
stores amply to cover my stay.
The next day (May 20th) was beautifully fine, with bright sunshine.
Commander Wild sent ashore the scientific staff, with assistants, to
carry on their special work. Jeffrey verified the position of the
settlement and took bearings of all the more salient points on the
northern side of the island. Wilkins took his cameras and cinematograph
machine, and had a busy day photographing the people in the various
stages of their work, family groups, cottages and, indeed, anything
of interest. Carr made observations of the flat land to the west of
the settlement with regard to its future usefulness as a landing-place
for aircraft. Douglas made an ascent to the peak of the mountain
for geological purposes, whilst McIlroy seized the opportunity of
discussing with Mr. Rogers, the missionary, meteorological work and
observations.
The most interesting event of the day was a parade of the Tristan troop
of Boy Scouts, which was turned out for Commander Wild’s inspection.
The troop was instituted by Mr. Rogers on his arrival, and was, of
course, still very raw. It was surprising to note how well these
boys looked and how altered in appearance they were after changing
from their nondescript garments to the smart new uniforms. After
considerable manœuvring, they were finally drawn up on parade, when
Marr, in full Scout uniform with kilt, formally presented a Scout
flag specially sent out by Sir Robert Baden-Powell for this purpose.
The boys felt a little bit overcome by the occasion and responded
indifferently to the words of command, but under the circumstances any
but the most friendly criticism would be unfair. The boys appeared to
be keen, Mr. Rogers was keen, and it is probable that the next people
to hold an inspection will see a very different turnout. Everyone on
the island witnessed the ceremony, and all the women donned their
best clothes for the occasion. I had thought that they would have
taken a greater interest in the kilt, but they seemed hardly to notice
it—unlike the women of France and Italy, who during the war were so
fascinated by the Highland uniforms. Mr. Rogers and Marr had quite a
lengthy talk on Scout matters.
The islanders very hospitably looked after all who had come ashore,
which included most of the crew of the _Quest_, inviting them to
their houses for meals. Jeffrey and I had both lunch and dinner with
Bob Glass, waited upon royally by Mrs. Glass, “Wilet” and “Dōrothee,”
whilst a large number of peeping faces grouped themselves about the
door and windows.
After the parade of Scouts Commander Wild went back to the ship. He
permitted the others to stay longer, but gave instructions that they
were to go aboard before dark. There was some delay, however, and to
hurry them up he fired a detonator, which burst with a loud report
and a spangle of stars and reverberated in numerous echoes from the
hillside. The effect was extraordinary. Every living thing on the
island was thoroughly startled; dogs bolted and yelped, girls and
children screamed and ran for the houses, whilst sheep, pigs, geese and
poultry scampered in all directions in the wildest confusion.
Soon afterwards I saw the lights of the _Quest_ passing out in the
direction of Inaccessible Island. With her went three of the islanders
whom Commander Wild had taken to act as pilots and guides. They were
Robert and John Glass and Henry Green.
I had spent the day in seeing sick people or people who thought that,
seeing a doctor had come to the island, they might just as well get
him to have a look at them. The men came to see me at Robert Glass’s
house, and later Mrs. Glass conducted me on a tour of the settlement
to see a number of women patients. There were numerous minor ailments:
sprains, old fractures, or “brocks,” as the islanders call them, which
had reunited with serious deformity, rheumatism, and a condition they
call “ashmere,” meaning asthma. This seems to be the most prevalent
complaint on the island. Taken on the whole, however, they are a very
healthy little community.
I had with me in my medical equipment a small portable electric
battery. In the evening a man named Tom Rogers, who had received an
injury to his arm some time before, came for treatment, and I gave him
some electrical massage. He was delighted with the sensation, and made
everyone who came to the house take the terminals and feel it also.
I got several of them to join hands, and passed the current through
all of them at one time. Tom Rogers kept sending for more and more
people to “feel the electricity” until the house was full. Finding
that the current passed through any part of the body that was touched,
he determined to play a joke on a new-comer, suddenly touching his
ear whilst a strong current was passing. The new-comer, Gordon Glass,
who had never seen such a thing before, was considerably startled, to
the great joy of all the others, who thoroughly appreciated the joke
and retailed it all over the settlement, to my undoing, for I had to
demonstrate the experiment again and again.
I found that these islanders, when gathered together, were a genial,
pleasant lot, very good tempered, and quick to see humour. Though
intelligent in many respects, most of them had absolutely no interest
in anything happening outside the island; but, considering their
isolated position and lack of communication with the rest of the world,
together with their inability to read, this can easily be understood.
Bob Glass had given his family instructions to put me in his bed and
to clear out of the house and leave me to myself. Goodness knows where
they went to. I turned in and quickly fell asleep, to awake very soon
with a sensation that all was not well. The trouble proved to be a
countless host of small marauders, which were very persistent and
voracious. I had no more sleep that night.
The next day (Sunday, 21st) I was up early. Mrs. Glass brought me a
cup of very strong black coffee without sugar or milk. Acting probably
on her husband’s instructions, she brought me also some hot water for
shaving. This accomplished, I sallied forth to the clear brook and
started sponging down, to find myself, much to my embarrassment, an
object of interest to sundry small children of both sexes.
Breakfast was served to me in solitary state, which was a
disappointment, for I had hoped to sit down with the family. The meal
consisted of mutton and potatoes, as did all the meals I had whilst
remaining on the island. Mrs. Glass would have fed me on her share of
the stores from the _Quest_, but I told her I was tired of ship’s food
and wanted a change.
The weather had changed; it was raining hard, and the wind having come
round to the north-west, from which direction it blew up strongly, it
looked as if a landing would not be effected on Inaccessible Island. I
wondered what the _Quest_ was doing—at least, I knew very well _what_
she was doing, and felt glad I was on _terra firma_.
I called on the Rev. and Mrs. Rogers, and later went to church, the
service being held in the little schoolroom. It was well attended. One
side of the room was filled by the women, who left their husbands to
get in where they could. They looked well in their best cotton dresses,
with bright-coloured handkerchiefs tied over their hair. This form of
headgear is very picturesque, very practical, and eminently suited to
this wind-blown island. I was accompanied by my hostess, and hoped to
get a back seat where I could see all that was going on; but room being
made for me on the front bench, I was bound to accept. I regret to say
that I was guilty of many turnings of the head. The service was short
and simple. I was surprised at the hearty way in which everyone, both
men and women, joined in the hymns, which, as most of them could not
read, they must have learnt by heart. I was told that the wife of a
previous missionary had taught them a number of the best-known hymns,
and that the “New Missus” (Mrs. Rogers) was bringing them up to scratch
again in their singing. A larger place is necessary, for the room was
filled and several people hung about the door unable to find a seat.
All the missionaries who have been on the island have tried to persuade
the people to build a church for themselves, but without success.
After church I called on Gaetano Lavarello, one of the shipwrecked
sailors from the _Italia_, a Genoese by birth. I spoke to him in his
own language, which he understood, but found when he attempted to
reply that he had lost the fluent use of his mother tongue, having for
nearly forty years spoken nothing but English. He expressed himself
as quite content with life on the island. He had married a Glass,
and had several children. He said the thing he felt the lack of most
was tobacco. He had not had a smoke for a long time, and asked me if
I could give him some plug or a stick of hard tobacco, offering in
exchange a sheep. He said: “I have the largest flock and the best sheep
on the island, and I will give you a good one.” Unfortunately, I had no
tobacco, but told him I had no doubt that Commander Wild would give him
some when the ship returned, and would not require the sheep.
I then called on Mr. and Mrs. Rogers. They are known by the islanders
as “Reverend Rogers” and “The Missus,” which names I adopted, for there
are so many “Rogers” on the island as to be confusing. They asked
me to have lunch, during which they told me of the difficulties and
heavy expenses they had been put to in order to come out and take up
their work on this island. Apparently it was an entirely individual
enterprise, and the Church organization had taken no part in it at all.
The first assistance of any sort which they had received was at Cape
Town, where considerable interest is taken in this little outpost.
The “Missus” was only nineteen years of age, and had had no previous
experience to guide her in her preparations for the life she was to
lead. It takes a lot of pluck for a woman to cut herself off from
all home connexions and bury herself in a small spot like this, shut
off entirely from the outside world, without guidance or counsel
in the changes and chances which fall to the lot of every married
woman. I admired the courage and enthusiasm with which she faced her
self-imposed task, which included not only the instructing of the
unwilling youth of Tristan da Cunha in cleanliness, morality and the
“three R’s,” but also such multifarious duties as nurse, midwife,
scribe, reader and general adviser to the womenfolk.
In the afternoon I again visited some of my patients. One woman was
really very ill and in need of hospital attention. I did my best
to persuade her to go to Cape Town. The husband, on having things
represented to him, was agreeable, but there were numerous objections.
I asked “The Missus” to use her influence to persuade her to seize
the chance of a passing vessel to go. It must be admitted that this
reluctance to leave the island is natural. These people have no
money and are not well off for clothes (I believe this was the chief
objection in the mind of the good lady herself), and the leaving of
the island to those who have known nothing else resolves itself into a
great adventure into an unknown world.
Commander Wild had asked me to take a census of the island, and this
I proceeded to do, visiting the houses in turn. There was considerable
vagueness about ages, and in many cases about names also. On more than
one occasion a man (it was always the stupid male sex) did not seem
clear about his own name, sometimes contradicting himself or appealing
to bystanders for confirmation. As may be gathered from the history
of the settlement, with comparatively few exceptions everyone on
the island is either a Glass, Green, Swaine or Rogers. Consequently,
individuals are better known by Christian names than by surnames, which
probably accounts for their vagueness. It is rather remarkable that
with so few names amongst them the new chaplain should be a Rogers.
The history of Tristan da Cunha is interesting. The island was
discovered in 1506 by a Portuguese navigator, Tristão da Cunha, from
whom it takes its name, and though individuals on different occasions
lived on it for short periods at a time, for three hundred years it
remained nobody’s property. It was formally annexed by Great Britain
in 1816, and a garrison, consisting of about one hundred men, placed
there, with the object of resisting any attempt by foreign Powers to
use it as a base of operations for the rescue of Napoleon from St.
Helena. The garrison remained for a year only. Corporal Glass, of
the Royal Artillery, a native of Kelso, in Scotland, asked for, and
received, permission to stay. He had married a coloured woman from
Cape Colony, and had at the time two children. It was no doubt the
possession of this black wife that chiefly influenced his decision.
He was joined by Alexander Cotton and Thomas Swaine, two members of
the relief ship. This little party was augmented by some shipwrecked
American whalers, but none of them remained long, the only names
persisting to-day of the original settlers being Glass, Swaine and
Cotton. Some twenty years later Pieter William Green, a Dutchman, was
wrecked on Inaccessible Island, and having made his way to Tristan da
Cunha, elected to remain. About the middle of the century two American
whalers, Rogers and Hagan, also settled there, and more recently,
within the present generation, two Italian sailors, Andreas Repetto
and Gaetano Lavarello, survivors cast upon the shores from the wreck
of the sailing ship _Italia_, were so determined never again to risk
their lives upon the ocean that they also threw in their lot with the
islanders and stayed.
Of the original settlers, only Glass was married. The others obtained
wives through the good offices of the captain of a whaling vessel, who
brought five women from St. Helena. It was a funny way of choosing
their mates, and the islanders of to-day speak of the incident as a
great joke, guessing at the feelings of their great grandsires when
they went to meet their brides and speculating upon the methods adopted
in the selection. Occasionally the settlement has been temporarily
augmented by other shipwrecked sailors, who seized an early opportunity
to get away in some passing ship. There is evidence to show that
they introduced a certain amount of new blood amongst the islanders,
for some of them had children which were born after their departure.
No new names were introduced, however, for the children adopted the
names of the mothers. This factor must be taken into account when
considering the effects upon the present generation of intermarriage
and consanguinity.
The original garrison brought to the island a considerable quantity of
live stock in the shape of cattle, sheep, pigs, geese, poultry, donkeys
and goats, and were responsible for the laying down of the “potato
patches,” small walled-in potato gardens situated about two miles to
the west of the settlement under the lee of some high mounds. The live
stock throve, and there are representatives to-day of every species
except the goats, which took to the hills, but were destroyed by the
heavy torrents which rapidly form and sweep down the gullies whenever
there is heavy rain.
From time to time attempts have been made to introduce corn, maize and
vegetables of different sorts, but owing to the violent winds which
prevail they have never been a success. Practically the only vegetable
grown in useful quantity to-day is the pumpkin, and this is in no great
abundance. In the sheltered gullies at the back of the island there are
some very stunted apple trees which produce small crops of apples.
The herds, from which they derive their supply of meat, milk and
butter, and the potatoes have met the chief food requirements of the
islanders, but for everything else they have relied upon trade with
passing merchant ships and whalers.
[Illustration: JOHN GLASS AND FAMILY
_Photo: Dr. Macklin_]
[Illustration: THE MISSION HOUSE ON TRISTAN DA CUNHA
_Photo: Dr. Macklin_]
[Illustration: THE “POTATO PATCHES” ON TRISTAN DA CUNHA
_Photo: Wilkins_]
In the days, not very remote, when a number of sailing ships were
making the Australian passage round the Cape of Good Hope and during
the period of whaling activity, the islanders throve, for the ships
were glad to obtain fresh meat and potatoes, and gave in exchange
things of general value, such as clothes, tools and materials, and
flour, sugar, tea and soap. With the establishment of fixed whaling
stations ashore and the rapid disappearance of sailing ships in favour
of steamers, which are more or less independent of winds and follow
fixed routes, carry refrigerating plants, and to whom delay means loss
of money, this trade by barter has languished and died away. They
are a prolific people. The population has increased and is likely
to increase more rapidly with every generation, so that their needs
to-day are greater than they have ever been since the foundation of the
settlement.
For this history of the island I am indebted to Miss Betty Cotton, an
interesting old lady of ninety-five years, to whom I paid many visits.
In spite of her age she is still very bright and active, with a clear
memory for past events, of which she took a pleasure in narrating to
me the salient facts I have set down, together with a wealth of more
intimate detail which might well fill a volume. In everything which
it was possible to verify I found her to be very accurate. Indeed, she
was really a wonderful old lady, for she still moved actively about the
settlement on fine days. She regretted, however, that she was no longer
able to face the fiercer gusts of wind and her sight was very bad. She
asked me to give her some pills, not because she felt ill, but had, I
suppose, the general impression that some pills would do her good.
It is extraordinary how all the inhabitants carry their age, many
of those who should normally be entering the “sere and yellow” being
still bright and active and in appearance middle-aged. Many middle-aged
people, in the same way, give the appearance of youth. This applies to
both sexes, but more particularly to the men.
Certainly in this island, situated “far from the madding crowd,” there
is little of the nerve-racking wear and tear of modern civilization.
Freedom from epidemic diseases, the impossibility of over-indulgence in
tobacco, alcohol or faked-up foods, the pure atmosphere and the healthy
open-air life which they are compelled to lead are, no doubt, factors
in producing this longevity.