[30] 'Report of French Ambassador in Holland.' Thurloe, iii. 322.
[31] 'Clarendon' (Bodleian Papers), iii. II.
[32] 'Clarendon,' ed. 1839, 871. 'Clarendon' (Bodleian Papers), Cal.
iii. 13 Egerton MSS., Brit. Mus. 2535. fo. 637.
[33] We thus found this conjecture: Cromwell held an intercepted letter
from the King to Mr. Roles, addressed to him under his alias, Mr. Upton,
expressed in terms of entire confidence (Thurl. iii. 75); but Roles was
not arrested. And the suspicion inspired by the immunity which Cromwell
granted to such a conspicuous Royalist, was confirmed by finding that
Thurloe in a letter (dated 6th April, 1655) to Manning the spy, refers
to 'Mr. Upton' as their common friend. (Egerton MSS., Brit. Mus. 2542.
fo. 166.)
[34] Masonet. See Note, 'Clarendon Papers' (Bodleian) Cal. iii. 14
Carlyle, iv. 108.
[35] Information of J. Dallington, R. Glover, J. Stradling, E. Turner.'
Thurloe iii. 35, 74, 146, 181, 222.
[36] Several Proceedings, &c. Thurs., 8th Feb.--15th Feb. 1655.
'Clarendon Papers' (Bodleian Cal.) iii. 16.
[37] Thurloe, iii. 164.
[38] Thurloe, iii. 137, 180, 190, 198, 224.
[39] Egerton MSS., Brit. Mus. 2535, fo. 637. This communication appears
in an anonymous letter addressed to Nicholas. Mr. Warner, with that
ready help that he and his department afford, by a comparison of the
handwriting, attributes that letter to Col. Price, who shared in
Rochester's expedition.
[40] 'Clarendon Papers' (Bodleian), Cal. iii. 23.
[41] Thurloe, iii. 573.
[42] Ibid., iv. 344.
[43] Thurloe, iii. 122, 182. Egerton MSS., Brit. Mus., 2535, fo. 627
[44] Whitlock, 625. Thurloe, iii. 359, 382.
[45] Thurloe, iii. 391.
[46] Thurloe, iii. 162 172, 177, 182, 219, 243, Rolls Cal. (1655), 73.
[47] Thurloe, iii. 238, 243.
[48] Heath's Chronicle, 367.
[49] Thurloe, iii. 176, 181, 191.
[50] 'Rolls Cal.' (1655), p. 216; Baynes Coll., Add. MSS. Brit. Mus.
21,424 fo. 50; Thurloe, iii. 226.
[51] Thurloe, iii. 210, 222, 228, 241, 253.
[52] Ibid., iii. 298, 356. In addition to constant terror of 'the
Barbadoes,' to which all Cromwell's prisoners were subject, a Royalist
in the Tower mentions, in a pencilled letter, that he had been
threatened with torture; and that the Protector himself used the menace
of the rack rests on the evidence of another prisoner's
brother.--'Clarendon Papers,' Bodleian Cal., iii. 82, 87.
[53] Thurloe, iii. 676.
[54] Pell Coll. Landsdowne MSS., 752. fo. 275, 282. Baynes Coll. Add.
MSS. 21, 423, fo. 74. Thurloe, iii. 170, 224, 246, 248, 253, 281, 284.
'Rolls Cal., 1655, 81, 84, 88, 99, 200.
[55] Thurloe, iii. 281, 335.
[56] 'Clarendon Papers,' Bodleian Cal., iii. 27, 34, 36. 'Rolls Cal'
(1655), 193, 245. Thurloe, iii. 358, 530, 561, 659.
[57] Whalley's Statement; Burton, iv, 155.
[58] Adapted from the 'Declaration' of Oct. 1655, and Speech. Carlyle,
iv. 107, Vol. 162.--_No. 324_
[59] Carlyle, iv. 108, 111.
[60] Pell Corresp., Landsdowne MSS. Brit. Mus. 752, fo 275, 289. Hist
Rec. Comn. 6th Report, 438.
[61] 1 Dec. 1654. Pell Corr., Lans. MSS. Brit. Mus., 752 fo. 215, 220.
[62] 27 Feb. 1657. Burton, i. 383. Carlyle, iv. 177.
Art. VI.--1. _Oceana, or England and her Colonies._ By James Anthony
Froude. London, 1886.
2. _Through the British Empire._ By Baron von Huebner. 2 vols. London,
1886.
3. _The Western Pacific and New Guinea._ By Hugh Hastings Romilly,
Deputy Commissioner of the Western Pacific. London, 1886.
In days when proposals for the dismemberment of the Empire can be put
forward by great leaders of public opinion without exciting either
indignation or surprise, it may be worth the while of Englishmen to
spend a few hours in making themselves acquainted with the volumes which
we have cited at the head of this article. Most men are so absorbed in
what is going on immediately under their eyes, that they seldom bestow a
thought upon the remoter portions of the vast territory which
acknowledge allegiance to the Queen. They have but the most vague ideas,
or none at all, concerning the thoughts, wishes, and purposes, of the
large and growing communities which sprung from these islands, and which
have hitherto been proud of their English origin. It is true that this
pride has not been increasing of late years. The neglect or contempt
with which the Colonies have been treated by successive Liberal
Administrations did much to estrange the people, especially of Canada
and Australasia, and the whole foreign policy of England under Mr.
Gladstone's rule served to strengthen the general impression that our
decadence had not only set in, but was advancing with a rapidity which
was palpable to all the world except to those who were chiefly concerned
in arresting it. Mr. Froude tells us that one of the shrewdest and most
eminent of all the colonists whom he met expressed his amazement at the
popularity in this country of Mr. Gladstone,--an amazement which, Mr.
Froude adds, is felt 'wherever the English language is spoken' outside
England itself. We can fully confirm this statement. The hold which Mr.
Gladstone retains upon the country, after the long series of
unparallelled mistakes which a faithful view of his career must forever
associate with his name--the mistakes abroad, the mistakes at home, the
crowning and almost incredible mistakes in Ireland; that he should still
keep his hold of power and popularity after all this, absolutely passes
the understanding of our fellow-subjects abroad, no matter what politics
they profess. To them, we appear to be a people controlled by some
Circean spell, having cast common-sense and prudence to the winds, and
decided to be ruled henceforth by the man who can tickle our ears with
the longest speeches and the smoothest words. Byron was accustomed to
say that he looked upon the opinion of America as the verdict of
posterity. It is certain that our own kinsfolk beyond the seas are
sometimes in a far better position to realize the consequences of what
we are doing here than those who are actually playing the game. We are
too much wrapped up in self-complacency to allow their opinions to have
any weight with us, but they have the satisfaction, such as it is, of
seeing all their prognostications verified one after the other, and of
knowing that a rude and stern awakening from our dreams is hanging over
us.
Of the three books to which we invite attention, Mr. Froude's is least
like the average book of travel, and undoubtedly is the most suggestive
of thought. Whether we agree with Mr. Froude or whether we do not, it is
always a pleasure to read him. The 'shoddy' work which extends to
everything in the present day, and which is eating into the very heart
of our new literature, has not corrupted the older handicraftsmen among
us. Not one record of travel in a hundred deserves to be mentioned in
the same breath with 'Oceana;' there are not very many books of the kind
in the language which excel it in variety, in vigour of style, in
picturesqueness of description, or in vivid glimpses of insight into
personal character. Baron Huebner is a more genial, discursive, and
garrulous traveller. He tells us everything that comes into his mind,
and has a note about everything he saw. We must add that these notes
are, generally speaking, of great interest, and often very amusing. He
undertook a journey over the greater part of the British Dominions, at a
somewhat advanced period of life, for his readers ought to be reminded
that he is the last survivor of the Congress of Paris, and that few men
have had more valuable experience in the diplomatic service. Before he
started, the Baron heard that his project was freely discussed at the
Traveller's Club. Some said, 'what a plucky old fellow he is!' His
comment upon this shows that he knows something of men as well as of
places: 'If any harm befals me, they will say, "what an old fool he
was!"' Happily, there was no occasion for pronouncing this judgment upon
him. He followed out his prescribed route with wonderful success, and he
has presented a graceful and highly interesting narrative of his
adventures. His observations may, in many respects, be usefully compared
with those of Mr. Froude, though it will not do to carry this comparison
much further. We must, however, do the Baron the justice to acknowledge,
that he always manifests an earnest desire to be fair and just. As for
the third book on our list, it has the advantage of being short and to
the point, and the additional advantage of being founded upon a
personal residence in one of the islands of the Western Pacific. Travels
based upon something more substantial than a mere flying visit are not
too common, and we are grateful to Mr. Romilly for making a very
entertaining addition to the number. We should be equally glad to
receive the account of North New Guinea which a Russian gentleman, Mr.
Miklaho Maclay, is so well able to furnish. It so chanced that he was
landed one night on the north coast of New Guinea, and in the morning
the natives found him sitting upon his portmanteau, like a man waiting
for a train. They took him for a being of supernatural origin, but by
way of making sure, they fired arrows at the stranger, tied him to a
tree, and forced spears down his throat. As he survived these injuries,
though by a narrow chance, the first impression of the natives was
confirmed, and Mr. Maclay was afterwards treated in a manner which seems
to have left him little ground for complaint. Thus far Mr. Maclay, as
Mr. Romilly informs us, has declined to commit any account of his
experience to paper; but a resolution of this kind is seldom unalterable
when a man has anything new to tell the world.
Mr. Froude, as we have already intimated, intersperses the records of
travel with weighty reflections, or with valuable information, no part
of which can be prudently ignored by the reader. We do not know, for
instance, where in a short compass the arguments for and against
Colonial Federation have been so clearly set forth. As a rule, the
colonists everywhere view with great aversion the idea of placing
themselves under the direct authority of Downing Street, and no one will
be surprised at this who recollects the treatment they have almost
invariably received from that quarter. On the other hand, they are by no
means impatient or eager to proclaim their independence. 'British they
are,' says Mr. Froude, 'and British they wish to remain.' It will not be
their fault, but ours, if total separation ever becomes a popular cry in
Australasia or in Canada. There have been projects of a purely _local_
colonial confederation, but they are not regarded with much favour by
the leading public men. Mr. Dalley of Sydney, expressed strongly his
disapproval of the scheme, and he also objected to the plan of having
the colonies represented in the Imperial Parliament by Colonial
Agents-general. The one thing which seems at present to be universally
desired is a better organization of the Navy. 'Let there be one Navy,'
Mr. Dalley said, 'under the rule of a single Admiralty--a Navy in which
the colonies should be as much interested as the mother country, which
should be theirs as well as ours, and on which they might all rely in
time of danger.' In these respects, the ideas of modern colonists differ
widely from those held in the last century. The great grievance of the
American colonists was that they were not represented in the British
Parliament. Had that demand been conceded, Mr. Froude is of opinion that
'Franklin and Washington would have been satisfied.' We do not quite
agree with him, for the party of Independence, though small at first,
was never likely to remain long contented with any compromise.
Originally, indeed, as we all remember, the leaders of the Revolution
disclaimed any intention of bringing about a separation. Franklin to the
last protested his desire to keep the colonies united to the mother
country; but Franklin was not the most sincere or straightforward of
men. Undoubtedly, however, the American colonists did not begin the
Revolution with the least desire to create a separate nationality, any
more than in the great civil war of 1861-65 there was at first, or for a
long time, any intention of effecting the abolition of slavery. Both
ideas were acquired by the people by slow degrees. Massachusetts, New
Hampshire, Virginia, and other States gave emphatic instructions to
their delegates in 1774 to 'restore union and harmony between Great
Britain and her Colonies,' and the party of independence was thoroughly
unpopular down even to the close of the struggle. One of its leading
spirits gave emphatic testimony on this point. 'For my own part,' wrote
John Adams, 'there was not a moment in the Revolution when I would not
have given everything I possessed for a restoration to the state of
things before the contest began, provided we could have a sufficient
security for its continuance.' This feeling had no small share in
misleading George III. on the American question, and in deepening his
determination not to let the colonies go--a fact which was brought out
for the first time, we believe, by one of the ablest and most judicious
of modern historians--Mr. Lecky. He also was the first to show, in a
very striking manner, that the American Revolution was practically the
work of a small minority, who, as he remarks--and the remark has no
slight application to the other revolution now going on in our
midst--'succeeded in committing an undecided and fluctuating majority to
courses for which they had little love, and leading them step by step to
a position from which it was impossible to recede.'[63] Nearly one-half
of the Revolutionary army consisted of Irish, who have ever since played
so important a part in the politics of the United States.
In the present day, our colonists do not seek for separation,
neither--if Mr. Froude is right--do they ask for representation at
Westminster. They 'are passionately attached to their Sovereign,' and
they desire that their Governors 'should be worthy always of the great
person whom they represent.' They wish to have their trade encouraged,
as it might so easily have been a few years ago, if we had possessed
foresight enough to adopt a system of differential duties; they wish to
have good immigrants, and they see the growing necessity for a strong
navy. The information on these subjects which Baron Huebner acquired
should be considered in connection with Mr. Froude's statements. It will
be found that the two writers substantially agree. Baron Huebner found
that the Australian colonists fully comprehend the disadvantage which
complete independence would be to them. They are practically independent
now, but they are spared the political and social turmoil in which the
periodical election of a President would necessarily involve them. 'The
Queen,' said one of the Baron's friends, 'sends every five years a
Governor, who is not an autocrat like the President of the United
States, but the representative of constitutional royalty. In America
every four years, business is arrested, public order is disturbed, and
passions are let loose to the point sometimes of threatening even public
life itself. And why? In order that the nation may elect an absolute
master, irremovable by law during his period of office. Here every one
understands this, and every one knows how to leave well alone.' We do
not quite see how the President of the United States can be described as
an 'autocrat' or as an 'absolute master,' but the Australians are right
in their conclusion, that the American system would be a sorry
substitute for the arrangement which gives them a Governor without
inconvenience to themselves, and without any risk of infringement upon
their liberties.
In the Cape Colony, the problem presents itself in a different form. In
its origin--as everybody ought to know, but does not--it is not an
English, but a Dutch Colony, and the Boers have never been disposed to
render to English sovereignty more than a passive obedience. The chief
facts in their recent history are but too easily recalled. When the
Transvaal was annexed by Sir Theophilus Shepstone, the people at first
submitted quietly; but the new Commissioner aroused first their fears,
and then their anger, by various encroachments which were regarded as
invasions of their rights. The Boers took up arms, English troops were
despatched from the Cape to suppress the rising, and these troops were
beaten at Lang's Neck. General Colley, who then commanded the forces at
Natal, hastened forward with more troops in the hope of retrieving this
disaster, but was himself beaten at Ingogo. He then, without waiting for
the reinforcements which were on their way to him, took up a new
position, was attacked by the Boers, and defeated in the memorable
disaster at Majuba Hill. Mr. Gladstone forthwith surrendered everything,
and since that time the Boers have been, as a matter of course, more and
more antagonistic to the English power. 'They came to Africa,' says
Baron Huebner, 'in 1652, with the intention of remaining there, and they
do remain there. The future and Africa belong to them, unless they are
expelled by a stronger power, the blacks or the English. They accept the
struggle with the blacks, and they avoid all contact with the English.'
Mr. Froude takes now, as he has always taken, a very strong view of our
own responsibility for all the difficulties which have arisen with the
Boers. We have, he says with some bitterness, 'treated them unfairly as
well as unwisely, and we never forgive those whom we have injured.' The
story is long, and it has been treated more than once, and we believe
with strict fairness and impartiality, in these pages. Mr. Froude
himself does not deny, that the effect of the surrender after Majuba
Hill 'was to diminish infallibly the influence of England in South
Africa, and to elate and encourage the growing party whose hope was and
is to see it vanish altogether.' The work was not half done. We insisted
upon a new Treaty, which was immediately broken by the Boers. Mr. Froude
once more recommends us to 'leave the Cape alone'--not to get out of it,
but to allow the Boers to manage their affairs in their own way. 'Our
interferences,' he tells us, 'have been dictated by the highest motives;
but experience has told us, and ought to have taught us, that in what we
have done or tried to do, we have aggravated every evil which we most
desired to prevent. We have conciliated neither person nor party.'
Baron Huebner arrived at his conclusions by a totally different road from
that pursued by Mr. Froude, but the burden of his story is much the
same. It is the indecision of the Central Government, the uncertainty in
which the Colony is always kept as to what will happen to them next,
which causes nearly all the mischief. We have treated the Cape Colony as
we have treated Ireland, and with every prospect of bringing about the
same results. First 'coercion,' then abject surrender, then coercion
again--'a process,' as Mr. Froude justly remarks, 'which drives nations
mad, as it drives children, yet is inevitable in every dependency
belonging to us which is not entirely servile, so long as it lies at the
will and mercy of so uncertain a body as the British Parliament.' Baron
Huebner, who stands beyond the influence of our party politics, tells us
the same thing in other words. We want a policy, he says, in effect,
which shall be permanent in its application, and therefore not affected
by changes in Ministries. The fact is that we want such a policy for
many parts of our Empire besides South Africa, and we are likely to want
it. With Parliaments elected at short and frequent intervals, and
depending largely on shifting caprices, there is not likely to be any
fixed principle in dealing with political problems arising either at our
own doors or thousands of miles away.
There is one question in which all the colonists take a deep interest,
and that is the condition and prospects of our trade. The Colonies are
now our best customers, and we sincerely hope they will continue to be
so, for with them we may possibly get, even yet, something like Free
Trade, whereas no chance of securing even an approach to it can be
looked for in the rest of the world. The Colonies will always raise at
the Custom House the greater part of the money they want for the
expenses of internal government, but they may be induced to offer
England more favourable terms than other nations receive. In Australia,
as elsewhere, it begins to be doubted whether 'England can trust
entirely to Free Trade and competition to keep the place she has
hitherto held.' If all our Colonies were bound with us in one commercial
federation, we could make sure of Free Trade over a large part of the
world's surface. 'We should have purchasers for our goods,' remarks Mr.
Froude, 'from whom we should fear no rivalry; we should turn in upon
them the tide of our emigrants which now flows away.' But at present,
and with the fiscal system of 1846 still regarded as sacred and
inviolable, nothing can be done. When we are prepared to acknowledge
that the world has moved since 1846, and that we must move with it,
there may be a possibility of widening the field of our
commerce--unless, indeed, we delay too long. Public opinion in England
is beginning to stir upon the subject. The demand for a great and
radical change will come, when it does come, from the working men, and
they are already showing signs of deep interest in a matter which
concerns the very means of their livelihood. They are in advance of
Parliament and Ministries on this subject. Mr. Froude is well within
bounds in asserting that 'those among us who have disbelieved all along
that a great nation can venture its whole fortunes safely on the power
of underselling its neighbours in calicoes and iron-work, no longer
address a public opinion entirely cold.' What, perhaps, has tended as
much as anything else to open our eyes is the discovery, that other
nations begin to be able to undersell us, not only in foreign markets,
but even in our own--here in England, at Sheffield, Birmingham, and
Manchester. Carlyle usually defined the Free Trade theory as the system
of 'cheap and nasty.' As we have never had Free Trade, and therefore as
it has never been properly tested, it is impossible to say what effects
it was capable of producing, properly worked out. The great fact which
confronts us to-day is that no other nation in the world, and not even
our own colonists, will have anything whatever to do with it on any
terms. This fact, at least, the English workingmen are beginning to see
and to understand, and results will flow from it at present not
anticipated by 'statesmen,' who know little or nothing about the hard
matter-of-fact conditions under which trade is carried on, and who are
assiduously primed by underlings with statistics which they repeat by
rote, and as to the real value or signification of which they are
completely and hopelessly in the dark.
According to Baron Huebner, the Australian colonists have not abandoned
the hope of forming a customs' union with the mother country, and they
are far from regarding the proposals for giving them representation in
Parliament with the indifference which Mr. Froude imagines that he
detected. No one yet seems to have made even an effort to settle the
details of a scheme by which a navy could be kept up for the defence of
the Colonies, and an Imperial Zollverein formed between England and her
foreign possessions. But the 'advanced men,' according to Baron Huebner,
feel convinced that the idea can be carried out, and they are desirous
of finding, as a preliminary, direct representation in some form at
Westminster. The growth of this idea, says Baron Huebner, 'of a grand
confederation, which would completely revolutionize Old England, or
rather, which would create a new England by the handiwork and after the
pattern of her children in Australia--the growth of this idea among the
masses is, to my mind, an indubitable fact.' More improbable things have
happened than that England, weakened at home by the selfish ambition of
her statesmen, and by the frenzy of party warfare, may be saved by the
patriotism of her descendants in other lands. The first opportunity
which the colonists have had of evincing their determination to stand by
the old country was promptly taken advantage of, and with a heartiness
of spirit that we hope is not yet forgotten, quickly as all events,
great or small, are nowadays crammed into 'the wallet of oblivion.' The
offers of colonial aid during the Egyptian war roused a feeling
throughout the Colonies which astonished all Europe, and probably took
many of the colonists themselves by surprise. 'When English interests
were in peril,' Mr. Froude tells us, 'I found the Australians, not cool
and indifferent, but _ipsis Anglicis Angliciores_, as if at the
circumference the patriotic spirit was more alive than at the centre.
There was a general sense that our affairs were being strangely
mismanaged.' The men who think and talk like this are not struggling for
place and power amid the demoralizing surroundings of modern
Parliamentary life. They are able to take a cool and dispassionate view
of us and our affairs, and they begin to think that public life has
degenerated into a mere scramble for the spoils of office. Their
indignation, when Gordon was deserted by the Government which he had
tried to serve, was far greater than we seem to have had any experience
of amongst ourselves. They looked upon him as 'the last of the race of
heroes who had won for England her proud position among the nations; he
had been left to neglect and death, and the national glory was sullied.'
They volunteered to come over and help us fight our battles. The
Colonial Office, then under Lord Derby, was for a few days disposed to
turn the cold shoulder to these efforts of assistance. But the feeling,
which had been aroused in the country by the first announcements in the
newspapers, was too deep to be mistaken. It broke through the ice in
which the Colonial Office is usually imbedded, and compelled Lord Derby
to make a warm and grateful response to the Colonies. In reality, the
people there are, as many travellers besides Mr. Froude have remarked,
more English than the English themselves in their sensitiveness as
regards the national honour. We talk very coolly here of 'standing
aside,' of 'having seen our best days,' and of giving up one part of our
inheritance after another; but the Englishmen abroad are animated by
very different sentiments. The love of the 'old home' is strong in them,
even though they may have been born in the Colonies. It shows itself in
a thousand different ways. At Ballarat, Mr. Froude seems to have been
struck with a garden which might have been attached to an old cottage in
Surrey or Devonshire. There were cabbage-roses, pinks, columbines,
sweet-williams, laburnums, and honey-suckle--all prized because they
were the flowers of Old England. The people everywhere speak the
language with remarkable purity. The aspirate is rarely misplaced,
unless by a recent immigrant. The misuse of the aspirate is, indeed, a
peculiar part of the birthright of an Englishman. No one ever yet heard
it from the poorest or most illiterate class in the United States. In
Australia, says Mr. Froude, 'no provincialism has yet developed itself.
The tone is soft, the language good.' The young people looked fresh and
healthy, 'not lean and sun-dried, but fair, fleshy, lymphatic.' Mr.
Froude could not see any difference between his countrymen at home and
those who had settled down in this new and wider field of industry. 'The
leaves that grow on one branch of an oak are not more like the leaves
that grow upon another, than the Australian swarm is like the hive it
sprung from.' Mr. Service, the Prime Minister of Victoria, fully shares
the English predilections of his fellow colonists, but he appears to
feel some irritation at the tone so frequently adopted by the Liberal
press and party in this country, and emphatically urged in their day by
Mr. Cobden and Mr. Bright. This tone is founded upon the argument, 'The
Colonies are of no use to us; therefore the sooner they take themselves
off the better.' If some leaders and members of the Liberal party had
their way, we should be without a colony in the world, without India,
and with Ireland close to our own doors a hostile and an independent
Foreign Power.
With regard to India it is to Baron Huebner's records of a very
remarkable journey, that we must turn for the notes of the most recent
traveller. The work is not so exhaustive, especially as regards the
Native States, as M. Rousselet's 'L'Inde des Rajahs,' but it is
eminently readable and lively, and the author gives abundant evidence,
that he took with him everywhere an earnest desire to arrive at the
truth, and a determination to form his conclusions with strict
impartiality. It is evident that in India he soon began to feel the
influence of that peculiar spell which the country exercises over most
persons of a susceptible or imaginative temperament. 'India,' he says,
'has always fascinated me, 'and few who have travelled there will not be
ready to make the same confession. It is much to be hoped that the
Radicals will be induced to listen to Baron Huebner's testimony
concerning the way in which we carry on government in our great Eastern
dependency. Nowhere, strange as it may appear, but in our own country is
English rule misunderstood or misrepresented. Injustice is
systematically done to the purest, most conscientious, and most
industrious Civil Service in the whole world; and our countrymen who are
spending the best part of their lives in the effort to promote the
welfare and prosperity of India, are too often held up to opprobrium as
examples of merciless tyrants, whose only object is to grind down the
natives into the dust. We seem to be losing many of the characteristics
which formerly distinguished us in the world, but there is one which
marks us out very plainly from all other nations--the habit of
disparaging our own achievements and vilifying our own reputation. We do
not find the Germans pertinaciously seeking to bring into disrepute the
efforts now being made to extend their colonial possessions; the
Americans have a motto, upon which they invariably act: 'our
country--right or wrong.' This may be carrying a good principle a little
too far; but it is better than the course we pursue, of striving with
might and main to dishonour our past, and to place our country in the
most contemptible light before the rest of mankind. Instead of our
having any reason to be ashamed of what we have done in and for India,
we have every cause to be proud of it; and, if English people had an
adequate knowledge of that work, and were in a position to exercise
their common-sense on the question, untrammelled by agitators and
demagogues, they would acknowledge gladly that they were heartily proud
of it. We believe that the great body of Englishmen in India are
honestly endeavouring to do their duty, according to the measure of
their abilities, and that, if any event occurred to cause our removal
from the country, it would inflict the direst forms of suffering and
calamity upon the people. It is important to hear what a foreigner, not
unduly prejudiced in our favour, has to say upon these points. First,
then, in reference to the men who are engaged in the practical work of
government--the Civil Service--Baron Huebner says:--
'I have met everywhere men devoted to their service, working
from morning till evening, and finding time, notwithstanding
the mutiplicity of their daily labours, to occupy themselves
with literature and serious studies. India is governed
bureaucratically, but this bureaucracy differs in more than
one respect from ours in Europe. To the public servant in
Europe one day is like another; some great revolution, some
European war, is needed to disturb the placid monotony of
his existence. In India it is not so. The variety of his
duties enlarges and fashions the mind of the Anglo-Indian
official; and the dangers to which he is occasionally
exposed serve to strengthen and give energy to his
character. He learns to take large views and to work at his
desk while the ground is trembling beneath his feet. I do
not think I am guilty of exaggeration in declaring that
there is not a bureaucracy in the world better educated,
better trained to business, more thoroughly stamped with the
qualities which make a statesman; and, what none will
dispute, more pure and upright than that which administers
the government of India.'
Of late years, as everybody is aware, a demand has sprung up for 'local
self-government' in India--a demand not originating with natives
themselves, but with the sentimentalists and philosophers who are doing
their best and their worst to take all the manliness out of the English
character. Lord Ripon was the mechanical mouthpiece of this sect, and
there can be no doubt whatever that no Governor-General or Viceroy of
India ever did so much harm in so short space of time. He and his school
tried their utmost to persuade the natives that what they want is 'Home
Rule'--that panacea for all the evils of modern life which is likely to
entail so many new burdens and trials upon us. The natives of India
never suspected, until Lord Ripon strove to impress it upon them, that
Home Rule is indispensable to their happiness. They are perfectly well
aware that if our hold upon the country is ever relaxed, there will be
nothing but chaos all through the land,--internecine wars, rebellions,
and massacres, such as marked the history of India until our rule became
well established there. Lord Ripon closed his eyes to all
this--_doctrinaire_ at heart, he could see nothing but his own
crotchets. The native, he declared, must have local self-government. But
Baron Huebner found that the people did not understand or desire this
much vaunted contrivance. The native, he says, 'refuses to be elected by
his equals. He wishes to be chosen by his superiors, and his superiors
are the English officials, represented in this case by the district
officer or magistrate. In the North-Western Provinces, this opposition
was so strong that the Supreme Government have been obliged, much
against their own views, to give to the Governor of those Provinces the
power of constituting the municipalities.' The sentimentalists may try
to develop the 'native mind' as they please, but they will never
persuade Hindoos or Mussulmans to trust their own countrymen as they
trust us. We have a reputation among them for fairness and for justice
which no native would ever aim to deserve, although he is not incapable
of understanding and admiring it. An East Indian of any race or religion
will never speak the truth if he can possibly help himself, but he has a
certain respect for the man who can and does. No doubt, the very
earnestness, with which we seek to dispense equal justice among all
classes, is a stumbling-block in our path, and always has been so. The
native likes to deal with a judge who will wink at perjury, and who is
not above taking a bribe. Yet the Englishman is everywhere trusted. 'If
proof were needed,' says Baron Huebner, 'to show how deeply rooted among
the populations is English prestige, I would quote the fact that
throughout the peninsula the native prefers, in civil and still more in
criminal cases, to be tried by an English judge. It would be
impossible, I think, to render a more flattering testimony to British
rule.' But these are facts which had no signification for Lord Ripon. He
pursued a policy which, designedly or undesignedly, was calculated to
bring our rule to an end. 'Lord Ripon's resolution,' some one told
Baron Huebner, 'means nothing or means this: The Government foresees that
the time will come when we must leave India to herself.' Then there was
the Ilbert Bill, placing Europeans in the country districts under the
jurisdiction of native judges. How could the natives of all classes fail
to look upon this as another evidence that the reins of power were
dropping from our nerveless hands? The point of the whole matter was
thus put by one of the civilians to Baron Huebner:--'The principle, that
the jurisdiction over European subjects of the Crown must be reserved
for judges and magistrates who are also European subjects, has always
been maintained. And it has always been recognized that in this
principle lies the only possible effectual guarantee to Europeans living
in country districts against the perjury and false witness so common
among the rural populations.' The Ilbert Bill proposed to take away
these safeguards from the European, and would have left him at the mercy
of native judges and native witnesses, whose only idea of justice is to
make a few rupees out of its administration.
The school of Radicals represented only too numerously in the present
Parliament--unreasoning, ignorant of India, impulsive, narrow and
insular--is also represented among the more recent importations of
'competition wallahs.' Baron Huebner met with many of them. 'In their
opinion,' he says, 'the ideal of a sound English policy is the
dismemberment of the British Empire, and above all the abandonment of
India. To save England, it is necessary first to destroy her.' To the
shrewd and experienced Austrian diplomatist, these ideas seem to be
absolutely ruinous, but the oddity of it is that thousands of persons in
England cling to them with a sort of idolatry, as if within them was
compressed the sum and substance of human wisdom. The Radical party
to-day lives upon these theories of dismemberment, although it is
careful to keep its ultimate aim as much as possible in the background.
In India, its adherents are doing an immense amount of harm. Baron
Huebner seems to have been struck with amazement at the phenomenon. 'This
is, indeed,' he exclaims, 'a curious and perhaps a unique spectacle--an
immense administration, managed according to doctrines which are
repudiated by the large majority of those who compose it.' The natives
who are educated in our schools and colleges emerge from them filled
with ideas of Socialism and Atheism. We break down their faith in their
own creeds, without succeeding in inducing them to adopt Christianity.
They find themselves free to construct a religion of their own, or to do
without any religion. As regards the Government, they are led to
believe that it ought not to be where it is, and that India should be
ruled by its own people. The native press is full of sedition. Let us
hear what Baron Huebner has to say upon this subject, for it is worth
attention:--
'Is there any public opinion in India? It is declared that
there is none. And yet people agree in saying that the
natives who have been educated in the State colleges have
become singularly importunate of late years, that they are
beginning to adopt a high tone, and that they take especial
delight in criticising the acts of the Government, who,
unwisely, as it seems to me, encourage if not provoke such
criticism. These baboos and their newspapers, I am told,
would only become dangerous at a crisis; and by a crisis is
understood a disastrous European war. But the life of
nations, like that of individuals, is nothing but a series
of successes and reverses. Looked at from this point of
view, the baboo is not such an insignificant being as he
appears to be considered.'
No doubt our Radicals would contend that the Austrian's notion, that it
is unwise on the part of the Government to encourage criticism directed
against itself, is worthy of a man who has seen the Napoleonic _regime_,
and who perhaps admires the 'one man' form of government. But what is
the English Radical party itself living under now? Was ever the 'one man
form of government' carried out in so relentless a fashion as we see it
now in Parliament? Is there not one man in the Government, surrounded by
a crowd of nonentities--the one man filling the exact position for which
the Americans have invented the significant word 'Boss'? All liberty of
thought or freedom of action is gone. The principle insisted upon is 'do
whatever our leader tells us; go where he leads; give what he asks--all
without murmuring or discontent. The man who murmurs must be drummed out
of the ranks.' If we saw the French submitting to this system, no words
that we could use would be strong enough to express our contempt for
them. As we happen to be doing it ourselves, it must, of course, be good
and wise. Granted that it is so, we may fairly ask even the Radicals
whether they are quite sure that it is wise to think of giving up India?
With what do they propose to replace our government? The testimony of
every fair-minded man is that we have accomplished an incalculable
amount of excellent work there. Our magnificent highways and railroads,
our appliances for irrigation, would alone make our name immortal in the
country. The people thrive under our rule; every man is secure in the
possession of his property; war no longer devastates the country. We
recommend everybody who is unaware of these and similar facts to
consider well the evidence adduced by Baron Huebner:--
'Materially speaking, India has never been as prosperous as
she is now. The appearance of the natives, for the most part
well clothed, and of their villages and well-furnished
cottages, and of their well-cultivated fields, seems to
prove this. In their bearing there is nothing servile; in
their behaviour towards their English masters there is a
certain freedom of manner, and a general air of
self-respect; nothing of that abject deference which strikes
and shocks new comers in other Eastern countries. I have no
means of comparing the natives of to-day with the natives of
former generations, but I have been able to compare the
populations who owe direct allegiance to the Empress with
the subjects of the feudatory princes. For example, when you
cross the frontier of Hyderabad, the climate, the soil, the
race, are the same as those you have just quitted, but the
difference between the two States is remarkable, and
altogether to the advantage of the Presidency of Madras or
of Bombay.'
He goes on to say, that no one can deny that the British India of to-day
presents a spectacle that has no parallel in the history of the world:
'What do we see? Instead of periodical, if not permanent,
wars, profound peace firmly established throughout the whole
Empire; instead of the exactions of chiefs always greedy for
gold, and not shrinking from any act of cruelty to extort
it, moderate taxes, much lower than those imposed by the
feudatory princes; arbitrary rule replaced by even-handed
justice; the tribunals, once proverbially corrupt, by
upright judges whose example is already beginning to make
its influence felt on native morality and notions of right;
no more Pindarris, no more armed bands of thieves; perfect
security in the cities as well as in the country districts,
and on all the roads; the former bloodthirsty manners and
customs now softened, and, save for certain restrictions
imposed in the interests of public morality, a scrupulous
regard for religious worship, and traditional usages and
customs; materially, an unexampled bound of prosperity, and
even the disastrous effects of the periodical famines, which
afflict certain parts of the peninsula, more and more
diminished by the extension of railways which facilitate the
work of relief. And what has wrought all these miracles? The
wisdom and the courage of a few directing statesmen, the
bravery and the discipline of an army composed of a small
number of Englishmen and a large number of natives, led by
heroes; and lastly, and I will venture to say principally,
the devotion, the intelligence, the courage, the
perseverance, and the skill, combined with an integrity
proof against all temptation, of a handful of officials and
magistrates who govern and administer the Indian Empire.'
Such is the testimony of an Austrian. It ought to bring a flush of shame
to the faces of not a few Englishmen.
We have scarcely alluded to the lighter parts of Baron Huebner's
volumes--to the excellent touches of description or sketches of
character which enliven his pages, or to the numerous pleasantly-told
anecdotes of personal adventure. One of these anecdotes is worth
repeating, though the author must pardon us if we tell it in our own
way. It is too characteristic of life in New York--too full of valuable
hints for future travellers--to be lost sight of.
It appears that on his last morning in New York, the Baron found that
his note-book had been taken from his room in the hotel. His servant and
his baggage had already gone on to the steamer, and the Baron prepared
to follow. First, however, as he still had two hours to spare, he
thought he would take a final glimpse of Fifth Avenue. These are the
little accidents which generally decide our fate in life--the visit to
some friend, the call on a stranger, the unpremeditated walk. As the
Baron was passing along, a carriage suddenly stopped, a
'fashionably-dressed gentleman' jumped out, and ran up to the traveller
with a cordial salutation. He introduced himself as a guest who had
dined, with the Baron, at a dinner given by Lord Augustus Loftus in
Sydney. 'I am one of the admirers,' he said, 'of your "Promenade autour
du Monde," and I venture to ask you to do me the favour of writing your
name in my copy of that book. In return, pray accept a volume of
Longfellow's poems, with the author's autograph.' The fashionable
stranger had skilfully touched the weak place in an author's heart.
Baron Huebner consented to be driven back to his hotel, where his new
friend was also residing. On the way, the stranger suddenly bethought
himself that the two books were at the house of an acquaintance, 'two
steps from the hotel.' He put his head out of the window, gave some
fresh directions to the coachman, and the Baron soon found himself being
whirled along at a furious rate along streets which he did not
recognize. Still, the old traveller had no suspicion of anything wrong.
His voyages and adventures certainly seem to have left him in a more
than ordinarily unsophisticated condition. At last the carriage stopped,
our author was conducted into the dark passage of a small house, and
then into a little dirty room, where he found a tall man seated before a
table, with his back to a mirror. In that mirror, the Baron saw his dear
friend from Sydney gently lock the door, and put the key in his pocket.
Then he understood all about it.
Of course the tall man was polite, and after promising to go and fetch
the volume of Longfellow, he proposed to the gentleman from Sydney a
game at cards. While the two men played their sham game, the Baron had
time to reflect; he saw that he had been pounced upon very skilfully--in
less than two hours the 'Bothnia' would sail, all the people at the
hotel would think he had gone by her, no one would miss him, no one
would search for him. He might be murdered with impunity--with what
impunity the Baron would have fully realized if he had known a little
more of New York. No city in the world presents greater facilities for
getting rid of the evidences of foul play. We have not seen the recent
statistics of murders in New York, and doubt whether they have been
published; but in the five years between 1870 and 1875, we happen to
know that 281 'homicides' were committed there, and that only seven of
the murderers were hanged. Twenty-four were sent to prison--nominally
for life, although that is a mere form--and more than one-fourth of the
criminals were never brought to trial at all. If Baron Huebner had known
all this, he would have regarded his two new acquaintances with even
greater interest than he did.
How and why they let him go scot-free is to us a mystery. They invited
him to take a hand in the game, and he declined. They pretended to play
for him; won, and offered him the stakes. He told them he had no money
with him, that they would get nothing for their trouble, that the French
Consul was to meet him on board the 'Bothnia' to bid him adieu; if he
were not there a hue and cry at once would be raised. 'Then,' adds the
Baron, 'turning to my friend from Sydney, I said to him, "Open the
door." The ruffians gave in without further trouble. There was an
exchange of looks between them, and the tall man said to the other,
'show him out.' We have heard of many strange things happening in New
York, but never of one so strange as that.' When I stepped upon the deck
of the "Bothnia," says the Baron, 'a few minutes before departure, I
felt that I had had a narrow escape.' Very narrow; we should advise
Baron Huebner, if ever again he finds himself in New York, not to tempt
his good fortune by taking a drive with strangers who admire his
writings.
For the novel and stirring incidents of travel, we must turn to Mr.
Romilly's narrative of his experiences in the Western Pacific. He
transports us to a comparatively little known region, and it was his
good or ill fortune to come into contact with phases of life which must,
it is to be hoped, for ever remain unknown to most of us. Few living
men, for instance, have been present at a great feast on human flesh,
cannibalism being one of the habits of savage life which is found to
yield at the first touch of civilization. In New Ireland, however, Mr.
Romilly happened to be present at a sort of state banquet, given in
honour of a victory over the enemy. The enemy himself supplied the
materials of the repast. The details of the preparation of the horrible
food may be read in Mr. Romilly's pages by all who have a curiosity on
the subject. Some few particulars concerning a compound called 'Sak-sak'
may here be given:--
'They, [the heads of the victims] were then disposed of in
various ways, and when I asked what would be done with them,
I was told, "They will go to improve the sak-sak." The
natives on the East coast of New Ireland prepare a very
excellent composition of sago and cocoa-nut, called sak-sak.
I used to buy a supply of this every morning, as it would
not keep, for my men. Now it appeared that for the next week
or so, a third ingredient would be added to the sak-sak,
namely, brains. I need hardly say that for the next two days
of my stay I did not taste sak-sak, though my men made no
secret of doing so. The flesh in the ovens had to be cooked
for three days, or until the tough leaves in which it was
wrapped were nearly consumed. When taken out of the ovens
the method of eating it is as follows. The head of the eater
is thrown back, somewhat after the fashion of an Italian
eating macaroni. The leaf is opened at one end, and the
contents are pressed into the mouth until they are finished.
As Bill, my interpreter put it, "they cookum that fellow
three day; by-and-by cookum finish, that fellow all same
grease." For days afterwards, when everything is finished,
they abstain from washing, lest the memory of the feast
should be too fleeting.'
Mr. Romilly was informed by the natives that human flesh tastes even
better than pork. One is satisfied to take their word for it. In the New
Hebrides it appears that the people prefer to eat it dried, or 'jerked.'
At present, we are told,
'the cannibals in the world may be numbered by millions.
Probably a third of the natives of the country where I am
now writing (New Guinea) are cannibals; so are about
two-thirds of the occupants of the New Hebrides, and the
same proportion of the Solomon Islanders. All the natives of
the Santa Cruz group, Admiralties, Hermits, Louisiade,
Engineer, D'Entrecasteaux groups are cannibals, and even
some well-authenticated cases have occurred among the "black
fellows" of Northern Australia. I do not know that the fact
of a native being a cannibal makes him a greater savage.
Some of the most treacherous savages on this coast are
undoubtedly not cannibals, while most of the Louisiade
cannibals are a mild-tempered, pleasant set of men.'
This testimony can do no harm in England, but it is to be hoped that Mr.
Romilly will not repeat it too often among his black friends, or the
moral of it might be misunderstood.
The Solomon Islands still form a part of the world of which very little
is known. They are rarely visited, and travellers who have gone for the
purpose of 'taking notes,' have either altered their minds in good
season, or never returned. Some years ago, Mr. Benjamin Boyd, a member
of the Royal Yacht Squadron went out in his yacht, the 'Wanderer,' and
was captured by the natives. Search was made for him from time to time,
and his initials were found carved on trees. A notice was placed on all
the goods sent to the natives to this effect: 'B. B., we are looking for
you'--but no tidings were ever heard of the missing man. Mr. Romilly was
told by the captain of a labour schooner that somewhere on the south
coast he had noticed a European skull in a sort of temple; he recognized
it as European from its size, and he also observed that one of the teeth
was stopped with gold. We take it for granted that the dentists among
the Solomon Islanders do not use gold for filling teeth. This, then, was
probably the skull of the hapless owner of the 'Wanderer.' The Solomon
Islanders now make a practice of killing white men, if it can be done
safely, in revenge for the way in which they have been 'kidnapped' for
the labour traffic. The diseases introduced by their treacherous white
friends have made terrible ravages among them, and their own habits tend
still further to reduce their numbers. There are several places,' says
Mr. Romilly, 'where it is the custom to kill all, or nearly all, of the
children soon after they are born.' This is the only region we ever
heard of where so frightful and unnatural a custom exists. Female
children are, or used to be, destroyed in many countries; but the
indiscriminate slaughter of all children is decidedly uncommon. These
islanders have another device which is supported by an argument not
entirely devoid of strength. 'In a battle the victorious party, if they
can surprise their enemies sufficiently to admit of a wholesale
massacre, kill not only the men, but also the women and children. "We
should be fools," say they, "if we did not. This must be revenged some
day, if there are any men to do it; but how can they get men if we kill
the women and children?"' The same thought has doubtless occurred to
modern conquerors elsewhere, though, happily, circumstances have not
enabled them to carry it into practical effect. Some other curious
details respecting this group of islands, are given by Mr. Romilly. The
old women it appears, become adepts in the occult sciences, and the men
occasionally find the trade of wizard lucrative. They are chiefly called
upon to bring about a change in the weather, and their plan of
operations is to gain time. It resembles, in some striking features, the
method adopted by the 'inspired statesman' of our own latitudes when he
is trying to feel his way towards the development of some scheme which
he is half afraid of himself, and which the public view with profound
suspicion. Surely the most of us could find a counterpart to the
individual described in the following passage:--
'One old sorcerer of my acquaintance was a most interesting
study. If he was asked for fine weather (which, by the way,
in the Solomons is the usual request, the rainfall being
enormous), he used to temporize in a truly masterly manner.
First he would hold out for more payment. This policy he
could continue for an indefinite length of time, as he would
of course require payment in a form which he knew was
difficult or impossible for the natives to comply with.
Then, if he thought there was any likelihood of fine weather
for a day or two, he would become possessed of a devil which
would leave him at once if the sun made its appearance, but
if the bad weather lasted the devil would last too; and
finally, if the bad weather was very obstinate and would not
come, he would hold out again for more payment. In this
manner my old sorcerer was very seldom mistaken in his
forecasts, and the influence he exerted over the clerk of
the weather must have been very irksome to that functionary.
This leader of his tribe, we are further informed, had a 'great hold
over the imagination of his dupes.' We are more civilized--or _we_ think
so--than the islanders of the Western Pacific; but human nature is
pretty much the same there as here. As for the philosophy of such
matters, it is thus summed up by Mr. Romilly: 'I have often wondered
what the sorcerer thinks of himself; whether he really believes himself
to be a magician, or whether he realizes the fact that he is an arrant
old humbug. I think there is a mixture of both feelings.' It would be
useless to pursue this enquiry any further.
Another of the unexplored islands of these seas forms a part of the
Admiralty group, and is called Jesus Maria. It was visited by the
'Challenger' in 1875, and again by Mr. Romilly on two occasions, the
last in 1881, in H.M.S. 'Beagle.' The natives, a fierce and warlike
race, crowded round the vessel, eager to sell everything they had
including their babies. Bottles and hoop-iron were eagerly sought for.
While engaged in carrying on this simple traffic, the party on board
noticed, to their amazement a white man on shore who fired off a gun to
attract their attention. The next day a boat rowed to the beach, and
there stood the white man. He proved to be a Scotchman named David Dow,
who was collecting _beche de mer_, and found his trade prospects so good
that he desired to remain where he was. The Admiralty Islanders have
some 'very singular customs,' not to be met with anywhere else; but
after thus piquing our curiosity, Mr. Romilly ruthlessly balks it by
remarking 'that they are, unfortunately, of a nature which cannot be
described here.' We share his regret upon his being obliged to keep the
secret; for when a traveller has found out anything absolutely fresh and
startling, common humanity should, in these dull and overcast times,
induce him to disclose it. But no doubt Mr. Romilly has his reasons for
silence, and we must submit to them. The Germans have recently hoisted
their flag upon several of these islands, and we may trust them to tell
all that they can find out, and more.
In the Laughlan islands--a small group--the Germans are also to be
found. Indeed, they are spreading rapidly, over the Pacific Isles. As
the spirit of adventure is dying out among Englishmen, it appears to be
increasing in other nations. The genius for colonization appears to have
fled from us to Germany. Certain it is that Germans are everywhere
displaying that daring and enterprise in which we once shone above all
other people in the world. They will probably end by becoming masters of
the larger part of the Western Pacific. As for the Laughlan Islands, it
cannot be said that any one whose lot takes him there need be regarded
as an object of pity. The climate is good; food is abundant; life is
tolerably easy. True, there are no newspapers and no Parliament; but
existence has often been found supportable in the absence of these
things. The natives are friendly; and there are no animals anywhere, not
even rats. The men are decently clad, and the women wear a very
voluminous kilt, sometimes two or three of them, over each other. These
garments are made of grass, leaves, or fibre, stained various colours.
'In wearing two or three, care is taken to produce an aesthetic mixture
of colours--a little vanity which is met with sometimes at home amongst
ladies who like to display petticoats of many colours. It is considered
just as essential here to walk well as it is at home, but the two styles
are not quite the same. The Laughlan lady, in walking, at each step
gives a little twist to the hips, which has the effect of making the
kilts fly out right and left, in what is considered a highly fashionable
and beautiful manner. Though a somewhat similar effect to this may, I am
informed, occasionally be seen in petticoats at home, still I fear that
the firm stride of the Laughlan lady could hardly be reproduced in
English boots. To see ten or twelve of these ladies walking in the
unsociable formation of single file, which they adopt, with their
many-coloured kilts flying out on either side, is a very pretty sight.'
Evidently, a judicious traveller and observer might do worse than take a
tour to the Laughlans.
Two other interesting spots to visit are Thursday Island and Norfolk
Island, both British possessions, and the first a place of some
importance, as the centre of the Torres Straits pearl-shell fishery.
This trade has demoralized the natives, who now seem to spend a great
part of their time in getting drunk, the Europeans too often setting the
example, 'It is a common thing,' says Mr. Romilly, 'for a diver to go
down three-parts drunk. The dress is supposed to have a very sobering
effect.' Here is a little story which will produce a pang of regret in
the minds of the jewellers of Bond Street:--
'The best pearl I ever saw was in the possession of a
celebrated diver who was a shipmate of mine from Thursday
Island to Brisbane. He was offered on board the ship two
hundred pounds for it, which could not have been a third of
its value. But he refused every offer, as he had just been
paid off, and had plenty of money. I felt sure it would go
the way of all pearls when his money was finished, and
accordingly I informed a Sydney jeweller of it, and where he
could see it. When I was in Sydney a few weeks later I made
inquiries about it, and the jeweller told me that it was the
finest pear-shaped pearl he had ever seen, but that it was
unsaleable at its proper value in Australia, and he had
therefore made no attempt to buy it.'
But the pearl fishery on these coasts is becoming less lucrative every
year, and it is now falling almost entirely into the hands of natives,
who can stay under water longer than men of our own race, and seem to be
endowed with greater powers of endurance. As for the 'labour trade' of
which we all have heard so much, Mr. Romilly gives us to understand that
it is dying out. It arose under the stimulus which the American war gave
to cotton growing, and to the sudden necessity for procuring assistance
for the planters. At first, the natives were found ready enough to
volunteer for the service, but the treatment they received was not
calculated to encourage the spirit of volunteering. Then all sorts of
artifices were tried to deceive them. Sometimes the labour-hunters
pretended to be missionaries. 'On the usual question being asked, "Where
shippy come?" they would reply, "Missionary." Perhaps they would all
pretend to sing a hymn very slowly, while the hatches would be left
open, and several tins of biscuits would be put into the hold.'
Curiosity would gradually draw the natives aboard, and then the hatches
would be clapped on, and the man-stealers made off for Queensland or
Fiji. It is to be hoped that Mr. Romilly is right in stating that these
practices have ceased, but unless we are mistaken, accounts have
appeared in colonial journals, within a very recent period, of organized
raids upon these coasts for the purpose of carrying off the natives. It
is needless to say, that a sentiment of hostility to all white men is
likely to remain as the permanent result of this abominable system.
The fact is, that the white men who had the run of these islands down to
a few years ago were chiefly the off-scourings of other countries. They
found among the savages far fewer vices than they brought with them from
the civilized world. Some of them had run away to escape from the
vengeance of the laws which they had outraged; others were attracted by
the freedom which an entirely new life opened up to them. From them have
sprung a brood of half-castes who are the curse of the islands--like
many other half-castes, they manage to combine the evil qualities of
both races. The chief traders along the Pacific are now becoming much
more respectable. Some of them, indeed, appear to emulate the style and
condition of the prosperous English merchant. Mr. Romilly knows such a
man, living 'within a day's march' of the wildest cannibals in the
Pacific, who keeps up an establishment of forty or fifty men, with a
French _chef_. 'In a hitherto almost unknown island, he will give you a
dinner, every night, which could not be equalled at any private house or
club in Australia.' He keeps a yacht for private exploring expeditions,
and is to-day the principal 'trader and pioneer in the Pacific.' A
narrative of his observations and experiences would be of very unusual
interest, but like the Russian settler before referred to, he reserves
for his own benefit the knowledge he has acquired. The Germans are
pushing us hard, and in many respects they are better fitted for their
work than English traders. There seems a fair prospect of a gradual
elevation of social as well as of commercial life throughout the
Pacific. Already, lawlessness is discouraged. Not so very many years
ago, piracy was carried on openly in these seas. Mr. Romilly gives a
very interesting and curious account of one of the last pirates, a
desperado known as 'Bully Hayes,' once a boatman on the Mississippi.
This man began life by robbing his father, and soon afterwards made his
appearance on the Pacific coast the proud proprietor of a fifty-ton
schooner. 'How he had obtained possession of this schooner,' says Mr.
Romilly, 'was a matter of surmise, but he had been seen at Singapore not
long before this time, and a fifty-ton schooner had mysteriously
disappeared from that port without the knowledge of her captain and
owner.' He carried on a bold career of plunder for many years, and only
came to grief at last by an accident which he could not have foreseen.
He had stolen another vessel, and was making for some of his favourite
haunts along the coast, when the cook, who was steering, happened to
give him some offence. At that time, Hayes was accustomed to settle all
disputes off-handed with his revolver, and in accordance with this plan
he ran below to get his 'shooting irons.' Mr. Romilly thus relates the
sequel:--
'The cook objected, and, catching up the first piece of wood
he saw, got on to the top of the little deck-house over the
ladder, and, the moment Hayes showed his head above deck,
gave him a blow which killed him on the spot. This cook
seems to have been some what doubtful as to whether Hayes
was even now dead, so he fetched the largest anchor the
cutter possessed, and bound the body to it, after which he
hove anchor and body overboard, remarking, "For sure Massa
Hayes dead this time."'
Mr. Romilly, in the course of his wanderings, made a journey to New
Guinea, a portion of which has now been placed under British protection.
Little is known of the resources of this country, trading operations
having hitherto been almost entirely confined to the south coast. Mr.
Romilly's visit was brief, and he was not enabled to add much to our
previous stock of information. He does not seem to be aware of the
progress which the Germans are making in this island, or of the results
of the energetic support which Prince Bismarck invariably extends to his
adventurous countrymen.
Here, then, are three works which ought to have the effect of reviving
the interest of the English people in their possessions abroad, if they
have not sunk into a hopeless state of indifference and apathy on the
subject. We do not for a moment believe that the working men are
indifferent to the present and future welfare of our Colonies, but they
need to be instructed as to the true value of their great inheritance,
and therefore it is that we earnestly wish such books as these could be
made readily accessible to them. It would be difficult to exaggerate the
importance of convincing them that it is our duty as a nation to hold
fast to all that we have added, from time to time, to the dominions of
the Crown. The foreign policy of the country, no less than the domestic
policy, must henceforth be directed mainly in accordance with their
opinions; and if those opinions are left to be influenced and guided by
the hereditary dislike of the Colonies which infects all Radicalism, our
position in the world will soon be reduced to one of comparative
insignificance. Baron Huebner concludes his volumes with these words:
'Had I to sum up the impressions derived from my travels, I should say,
"British rule is firmly seated in India; England has only one enemy to
fear--herself."' That is the whole truth of the matter. We have to fear
our own party divisions, the want of true public spirit among too many
of our 'politicians,' the tendency of Radical leaders to teach the
doctrine that England ought to shut herself within her own island
boundaries, and cast off all outside responsibilities. Sentiments of
this kind may be, and are, loudly cheered in the House of Commons, but
very few Liberals are daring enough to advocate them in the country.
Lancashire knows how valuable India is to her, and the manufacturing
districts generally see the growing importance to them, merely from a
commercial point of view, of the Australian Colonies. The anti-Colonial
policy is growing less and less popular among the people. To discredit
it altogether, it is only necessary to distribute, far and wide among
the working men, facts and considerations of the kind furnished in the
works to which we have endeavoured to call attention.