QUEEN EMMA’S RESIDENCE--HER FAME IN THE SOUTH SEA--A
DIGRESSION--DETAILS OF THE COPRA TRADE--“BLACKBIRDING”--A
POLYNESIAN GROUP OF ISLANDERS--THE CARTERET ISLANDS AND
SIR CHARLES HARDY GROUP
The following morning I was destined to undergo my first experience
of an earthquake shock, the precursor of many which occurred during
my stay in New Britain, including the worst which had up to that date
been felt during German occupation. Thus how often in life
“Do the spirits
Of great events, stride on before the events,
And in to-day already walks to-morrow.”
I was still in my bed when I heard an ominous creaking; a
shudder-like motion shook the building, things rattled in the room,
but by the time I had sprung to the door the commotion had subsided
and the early matutinal peacefulness was restored. In a distant
corner of the verandah squatted the ever-vigilant Docman trimming my
lamp, as if nothing had occurred of sufficient importance to cause
him to look up. The savage puffed away unconcernedly at his pipe,
unconscious of my presence, conscious only of the bliss which that
occupation afforded. With doors and windows ever open because of the
great heat, there is, of necessity, a publicity in domestic life
somewhat embarrassing at first to the European. To adapt oneself to
circumstances is the first duty of the traveller, and I found that
an enormous cotton wrapper, always at hand completely enveloping
the person, was sufficient to cope with the unforeseen; for the
circumstances in which I often found myself were, to say the least,
novel.
In this world-defying garment I ate my kaikai (meals), wrote and
slept in a sheltered corner on my verandah, shouted my orders to
the busy Bavarian manager across the patch of grass below, and
scolded “Collars.” Occasionally I was greatly nonplussed; visitors
unannounced would find their way to my quarters, when my costume was
by no means fit for their reception. I then had to dodge past the
open window in frantic haste, to retreat to an obscure corner of the
room where I could array myself invisibly to the naked eye.
That afternoon as I sallied forth to call on Queen Emma, I passed
slowly along the coast, admiring the view and the facial decorations
of the natives, and meeting the curious gaze of officials and others
who had heard of my arrival. Approaching the stores and other
buildings of the Forsyth firm, I perceived that my progress was
watched by a keen-looking, middle-aged lady, wearing a dark, flowing
cotton gown, unconfined at the waist, standing at the door of some
offices.
As I proceeded on my way through a plantation, she passed in a
dog-cart. After a walk of about ten minutes I opened a gate, stepped
across a large open space, whence a magnificent view of Blanche Bay
and the volcano was obtained, ascended a flight of steps and looked
admiringly at the tasteful and comfortable furniture of the large
room inside the open doorway. I had heard much of this lady, not only
since my arrival, but when at Sydney. She is the oldest European
resident in the Archipelago, and by far the most successful from a
financial point of view. Half Samoan, half American by birth, she
came to these shores from Samoa in a small trading-vessel, with a few
followers and a revolver at her belt, when she began operations by
trading with the natives in European goods, such as Manchester prints
and Sheffield knives. With tact, bravery and conspicuous business
talent, inherited probably from her American father, she gradually,
though not without dangerous experiences, won the confidence of the
savages. In course of time she acquired by purchase sundry lands in
the possession of which her claim has been legally ratified by the
present German administration.
To-day, with the exception of the New Guinea Company’s plantations,
the firm of Forsyth, of which this lady is senior partner, is the
most flourishing concern in the Archipelago. When I was in the
Pacific the value of the entire business was estimated at £150,000,
and it was open to offers, since the health of the proprietors has of
late years suffered much from the climate, and they are desirous to
leave the island.
In these days of militant feminism, it is interesting to bring
before the readers of these pages the fact that here in these remote
regions a woman’s tact, skill, capacity and endurance have achieved
commercially, more than any of her masculine fellow-traders.
In every corner of the South Seas her fame and renown have been the
theme of many a captains’ gossip, of many a trader’s envious encomium.
A power to be reckoned with by the administration, a kindly mistress
to her many European _employés_, a protective deity to the ignorant
native, this lady to myself, an inquiring stranger, was kindness and
hospitality itself.
From her lips I obtained an insight into the prevailing conditions,
industrial and otherwise, of affairs in this youthful colony. No
one could fail to admire the wisdom and philanthropy of her conduct
towards those upon whose labour the success of her enterprise
depended. And I am led to believe that in my own country there are
also women, lacking neither in courage nor in knowledge, possessing
qualities of heart and head, whose sphere of labour possibly not so
prominent in the financial world, lies more closely knit to the heart
of things human. Such women to-day are occupied in attempting to
ameliorate the sufferings and injuries of their poorer sisters, who
too truly find life “a demd horrid grind.”
Present conditions have driven out those home occupations which half
a century ago were in vogue. Owing to machinery, they now have to
compete with men. Women--the exploited, the sweated, the squeezed,
more often the degraded--are defenceless, because politically, they
do not exist. History demonstrates that political justice precedes
social and economic equity! Hence the striving for women’s votes! I
often think that the angels must weep to see how things are managed
nowadays, in happy, Christian England!
But man, one-sided, because he only knows and mainly legislates for
his own sex, considers, like Lord Curzon, that in granting women
political existence, a change--the vast dimensions of which would
amount to a revolution, never before attempted in the history of the
world!--would be inaugurated--_opposed to the best interests equally
of the female sex and of the nation_!
If we were not filled with contempt for such a speech, we should
laugh at its puerility. Are the “best interests of the female sex”
then so immaculately provided for in a House where sit the “choice
and master spirits of the age”? Are they, we ask, when the vast
majority of the sweated classes of this country belong to the
voiceless female sex? When men _by their labour_ add barn to barn,
storehouse to storehouse? Or are their “best interests” safeguarded
when hunger stalks the land, and woman in default of a living wage,
too often sells her womanhood and helps to swell those weary crowds
of fallen ones, for whose misery, if God be true and no phantom of
the schoolman’s theology, man will have, sooner or latter, to atone
in tears of blood.
And what occurs when, in this Christian land of ours, woman protests
hotly against the injustice of laws to protect the strong, to crush
the weak, _vide_ those of divorce, and that which constitutes it a
punishable offence for a woman to solicit when man may do the same
with impunity!
She is seized by the throat! she is thrust into prison! she is
despitefully used! And this, in the land of so-called freedom,
under the ægis of a Government which tolerates Graysonian orations,
which winks at the spread of the seditious gospel of Keir Hardyism,
careless of how its baneful influence endangers the lives of our
fellow-subjects, and threatens to wreck our supremacy in India.
Why are these things so? Apparently because man’s conception of
fairness as regards women is on all fours with the ordinary Anglican
curate’s knowledge of protoplasm. It simply does not exist. That
women revolt at the idea of being his chattels any longer amazes him!
What does the average man care about the better side of women? The
only thing he wants of them is to contribute to his wealth, to pander
to his selfishness.
The temptation to digress was tempting. I will now retrace my steps
to the Bismarck Archipelago.
Not many minutes elapsed before Queen Emma entered the central room
of her spacious residence. She proved to be the lady I had previously
seen. Now she was differently garbed, gracious and stately, yet
keenly interested to know what brought her visitor to the island.
We soon fell into easy conversation. I desired to grasp the situation
in all its bearings, and the lady, as an authority on island trade,
was worth listening to.
“You should have called on His Excellency first,” she said smilingly.
“But you are the oldest resident, I think,” was my reply. It
seemed that notwithstanding my failure in complying with the usual
etiquette, she was not displeased at the priority of my visit.
“We were here long before the Germans made this a Crown Colony,” she
remarked.
“And did you experience any difficulty in establishing your claim to
property you had acquired from natives?” I asked.
“None whatever,” was the answer. “The Government were only too glad
to find such a respectable colonist.”
In acquiring lands from chiefs, she had insisted on their putting
their mark to “one fellow paper,” which to the kanaka constitutes
incontrovertible proof of lawful possession, though he knows no
more of its contents than he does of the interior of the moon. Not
only had she purchased land in New Britain and in New Ireland, but
at different periods had bought groups of coral islands, such as
the Mortlocks and the Fead Islands. It seems that when the Germans
took possession in 1885, the “one fellow papers” had been examined
and the territory thus purchased was regarded as lawfully acquired.
Naturally the price of copra is a never-failing topic of interest.
When I was in the Archipelago it was fetching £23 a ton. Queen Emma
said it had in previous years been as high as £25 and as low as
£13. The worst of the trade was that from eight to ten years must
elapse between planting and reaping; in her case, trading with the
natives had occupied those lean years. When once established, the
trees represented a never-failing source of income, since all that
is requisite is to keep the roots clean. They calculate that about
six thousand nuts go to a ton of copra; each tree should average a
yield of sixty nuts yearly, and one hectare, which may be bought
for a few marks, and equals two and a half acres, produces a ton.
The geographical situation leaves nothing to be desired in the way
of favourable conditions for the cultivation of copra. There are no
raging “blows” like the cyclones which scatter destruction over huge
areas in the West Indies. Although the region is one of volcanic
activity, destructive storms are rare. The climate is hot and damp.
December is the rainy month when the north-west monsoon begins.
South-east winds prevail from June to September.
The process of collecting the copra is simple in the extreme, the
“boys” scale the trees, collect the nuts, open them, hack up the
white part, which is then placed in the sun to dry. When ready, it
is put into sacks, and shipped mostly to Sydney, where it is used in
many ways. The soap factories, perhaps, take the largest quantity.
The firm of Forsyth employs on its different plantations twelve
hundred “boys.” The Gazelle kanakas are lazy and unfit. New
Islanders are preferable, but the black-skinned Bukas are considered
the best of all. They are big, powerful men, and I saw a great number
of them at work. The labourers who are brought from various parts
of the Archipelago to Herbertshöhe are given by the officials what
the natives call “one fellow paper,” which they keep religiously,
for they know by this time its value, should trouble arise with
their employers. This binds them to plantation labour for three
years. They receive their food and from six to ten shillings a week;
new loin-clothes, sticks of tobacco, a knife, and pipes at stated
intervals complete the wage.
[Illustration: LABOUR “BOYS”]
There seems, in years gone by, to have been a good deal of trouble
connected with recruiting native labour in the Pacific. With the
development of the sugar industries in Queensland, especially from
about the year 1875 to 1885, many cruelties undoubtedly took place.
A shameful traffic, called “blackbirding,” was carried on, in which,
to our discredit, the British led the way. Schooners would be
fitted out in Australian ports with a large hold, into which the
unfortunate kanakas were often pitched headlong. The captains of
these ships would obtain orders from the proprietors of sugar estates
in Queensland, at so much per head for every native brought home to
them. Then they would start for the islands, and at first try by
persuasion, or by barter, to induce the natives to return with them,
but these methods were not always successful, then they would row
to the shore, carry off any man or woman they could secure, and row
quickly away with their booty, which would be stowed in the hold.
The system was productive of much evil; reprisals on the lives of
white men were taken by enraged islanders, and in 1873 the scandalous
business came to the notice of the authorities. Ghastly facts could
be hushed up no longer, public feeling was aroused, and steps were
taken by the British Government to stop this wholesale kidnapping.
The outcome was the delimitation of their spheres of control by the
respective Governments of Great Britain and Germany, and in 1885, an
exchange was effected, by which the latter became possessed of the
islands of Isabel, Choiseul, the Shortland Isles, Bougainville and
Buka.
My hostess was interested in my remarks as to the way I had been
impressed by the “market,” which I had witnessed the previous day at
her sister’s house, and we discussed the all-prevailing ringworm.
“It comes from poor blood,” she said. “Some say it is the result
of centuries of cannibalism, but I don’t think so, and I will tell
you why. I know sometimes I have cured some very bad cases by just
seeing that they had regular meals and plenty of nourishing food,
yams, taro, just what they are accustomed to.” Then she proceeded
thoughtfully, “I don’t deny sometimes they get so diseased you can do
nothing for them, then the best is that they should die out as soon
as possible.”
She went on to tell me how that was the case in those atolls, known
as the Fead Islands, where the firm had plantations. Here in 1885
one hundred and sixty natives were alive; at present there are
not more than fifty, sixteen having perished through influenza in
1902. They were so weak that she would send no kanakas to continue
the race, for the sooner they were extinct the better. Now on the
Mortlocks, which had at one time belonged to the firm, she had placed
a few Gazelle natives, who had intermarried with the remaining
islanders, otherwise by this time there would be no inhabitants left,
and then who would do the plantation labour? In the neighbouring
island of Tasman the inhabitants are about three hundred in number,
and are fairly healthy, this she attributed to its less isolated
position, permitting of the occasional introduction of fresh blood.
Then the Sir Charles Hardy Group and the Carteret Islands, where
they had had a station for twenty years, and took annually about
120 tons of copra, were the home of quite another race than the
mixed people of Polynesian type who inhabited Tasman, the Fead and
Mortlock Islands. They were lazy, but they were vigorous and healthy.
Geographically, the islands formed stepping-stones from Buka in
the Solomons to New Ireland, and ethnographically the people were
interesting, since they showed the fusion of blood, resulting from
their islands being the meeting-place of the black Solomon islander
and the lighter-coloured Melanesian of New Ireland.
I spent a very interesting evening at this house, where I was much
entertained by the conversation of those who joined us later on.
“Do you know that Queen Emma presides over a native divorce court?”
a young Danish lady mischievously asked me, _sotto voce_. “You may
be shocked to hear it, but matrimony in New Britain is not always
blessed by the missionaries.”
“What do you mean?” I asked laughing.
“You know her word is law to the natives!” explained she. “Sometimes
unhappy Benedicts confide their married troubles to her private ear,
when she advises, ‘if Jane be tiresome, let her go to the man she
wants, and you try Dora instead.’ Her advice often turns out most
satisfactorily, and the newly-adjusted couples live happily ever
afterwards!”