GOVERNMENT HOUSE—PETS—CURIOS—CRABS—NATIVE POLICE—DEATH OF MRS
DE RICCI.
NASOVA, _March 23, 1876_.
DEAR NELL,—We seem to have settled down to a quietly regular home-life,
which really is very pleasant. When I think of the vile March winds which
you are now enduring, and contrast them with our lovely mornings and
evenings, when every breath is balm, I have only one exceeding longing,
which is that you were here to share their luxury. Now that everything
is well established, the house moves like a clock, of which Abbey and
his wife are the mainspring. They have trained a set of Fijians to wait
at table really admirably; they move gracefully and quickly, and look
exceedingly handsome in a uniform Lady Gordon has devised. Simply a
white kilt and shirt, trimmed with crimson, with short sleeves and
square-cut neck, to show a large boar’s tooth against the clear brown
throat. Then Sir Arthur has imported a Hindoo cook, and two excellent
Hindoo valets, who are also upper housemaids. The rest of the household
includes labour-boys of every colour and nation. We adhere to regular
English hours—that is to say, coffee is brought to our rooms at seven
A.M., and breakfast follows about nine; luncheon at one, tea at five,
dinner soon after seven. There is no particular reason for having it
later, as it is always dark by six.
I must tell you of one triumph of common-sense in the adoption, by Sir
Arthur and all his staff, of what we call the Nasova uniform—namely,
dispensing with the misery of a coat, and substituting a bright-coloured
silken waist-sash for braces: now all the gentlemen look fresh and
cool. It is a very sad evening when first a new man-of-war comes in,
especially one of some foreign nation, and the presence of punctilious
strangers involves full dress. But as soon as ever friendly relations are
established, they, too, are privileged to adopt this comfortable costume,
greatly to their own satisfaction.
At present H.M.S. Nymphe and H.M.S. Sapphire are both in harbour. Our
cousin, Captain Grant Suttie, commands the former, and Mr Gordon’s
brother, Cosmo, is her first lieutenant. Captain Murray commands the
Sapphire, and prides himself, as well he may, on the perfection of her
every detail. His own cabins are exquisitely dainty in every respect;
and Jack and Nevil are devoted to the lovely silky spaniels which are
his inseparable companions. Their own particular little black-and-tan
terrier Snip, has a child almost as big as itself, by name Bones. It has
attached itself to me; and now the family is further increased by a fat
and sportive puppy, of which Bones stands in great awe.
Sir Arthur has now acquired all manner of parrots—green and yellow,
scarlet and black and purple—which wander all over the place. The most
exquisite of all are the Kulas, tiny miniature parrots, combining
green, scarlet, and purple in their gem-like plumage, and capable of
being so thoroughly tamed that we have had them walking about the table
at breakfast, climbing over the flowers, or sitting on our fingers,
caressing us with their little rough tongues, and eating brown sugar and
water, which, I believe, is the only safe food to give them. They are
plucky little birds, and walk about the verandah on guard, and drive away
the great big ducks, who stand in much awe of them. They also fight with
the beautiful wee kingfisher. The latter is useful in the way of killing
cockroaches. The other day Abbey observed one of the laughing-jackasses
half choking with the effort to swallow something, and going to the
rescue found the dear little kingfisher half-way down its throat; neither
seemed any the worse, however. A few days afterwards he again heard a
scuffle, and found both the jackasses trying to swallow the same rat; as
neither would yield its prize, he carried out Solomon’s judgment with
good effect, and both were satisfied!
I have been very busy for some time in painting careful studies of all
the best objects of native art which come to any of us in our several
collections. All the different patterns of carved bowls, with or without
curiously shaped legs—some for oil, some for drink; all the multiform
clubs and spears; all curious necklaces and ornaments; and a wonderful
variety of wooden pillows. It is really a very interesting occupation,
and now I am beginning to make drawings of every piece of pottery that
any one of us acquires. I determined to do this, both because the pieces
are so brittle that comparatively few will reach England in safety even
with most careful packing, and also because, as each old woman works just
according to her own fancy, the best pieces, many of which are really
most artistic, are never made in duplicate—at all events it is rarely
possible to obtain a second, and things made to order are utter failures.
Lady Gordon has had large shelves made at one end of the drawing-room,
on which are placed some of our finest specimens of pottery, and very
handsome they are, of rich greenish yellow and red, glazed with resin.
For anti-macassars and sofa-covers we have handsome white native cloth,
with rich brown pattern. And instead of a carpet, one large cool mat, on
one corner of which Jack and Nevil (and any of their grown-up friends
whom they can entrap) build vast castles with large wooden bricks which
have just been made here. The dining-room is now beautifully decorated
with trophies of spears and clubs, and great bowls, and native cloth. The
house is all so thoroughly in keeping with the country; so infinitely
preferable to any attempt at making a Europeanised “Government House,”
and so much more suitable to Sir Arthur’s _rôle_ of premier chief of Fiji.
There are one or two minor points, however, on which we should be better
pleased if our home was not so purely Fijian; if, for instance, it were
not so very attractive to the crabs—a family which share all a Briton’s
love for travelling and inspecting the homes of other races. Here they
bravely leave their native shore, and walk inland, wherever fancy leads
them; and this, I regret to say, is frequently into our bedrooms, where
they find hiding-places in dark corners behind boxes and portfolios,
whence at night they sally forth to make further researches, clattering
their shell-armour against the woodwork, occasionally knocking down
something which wakens us with a sudden start, and up we spring to
find perhaps a great broad-backed chap like a “parten” brandishing
his powerful claws within a few inches of our unprotected toes. Then
follows an exciting chase—a regular game at hide-and-seek—which probably
awakens some of our sleeping neighbours, greatly to their disgust. Of
course it results in the capture of the intruder, but then comes the
question what to do with him. I cannot bring myself to stab him with a
spine of cocoa-nut leaf, as the Fijian girls do (piercing him beneath
the main claw, which is his only vulnerable point); so I carry him down
to the stream and throw him in, hoping he will travel back to the sea.
I have had many such nocturnal adventures, and confess that I wish the
inquisitive crabs would stay at home.
Not that these are by any means the only members of the crab family which
explore our abodes. Nowhere have I seen such a number of hermit-crabs as
swarm on these isles, occupying every shell on the beach, from the least
to the greatest. There are literally myriads of them, and sometimes the
whole shore appears to be moving. But these errant hermits are by no
means content to remain on the sea-beach,—they wander far up the valleys,
and meet us in most unexpected places, carrying their borrowed homes with
them; and we occasionally find them creeping up our mosquito-nets, and in
other equally startling hiding-places.
There are also land-crabs which climb the tall cocoa-nut palms, and feed
on the nuts, tearing them open with strong unpleasant-looking pincers.
And one kind is more troublesome than an English mole or rabbit, from
the aggravating manner in which it burrows in the ground, making such
innumerable holes as to render any bit of grass quite honeycombed. It
would be very dangerous to ride on.
But by far the most attractive members of the crab family are those which
inhabit such muddy shores as those of Suva harbour, near the mouths of
the rivers, where they were to me an unfailing source of amusement.
I spent hours watching them stealing cautiously out of their holes
when they were sure the coast was clear, but darting back like a flash
of lightning at the faintest movement of any living thing, even the
vibration of the most cautious footstep. But if I waited very patiently
and motionless, they presently reappeared one by one, till all along the
shore I saw their strange bright-coloured claws waving aimlessly in the
air. These crabs are tiny creatures, whose whole body rarely exceeds an
inch in diameter; but they own one huge claw as large as their whole
body, and when feeding they hold this up as a guard, as if shielding
their eyes, while with a tiny one they gather up their food on the
shore, lifting an atom at a time into their mouth. This large pincer is
invariably of some bright colour—yellow, rose-colour, or scarlet—while
the rest of the body is black and white, purply, or brown. You cannot
think how curious it is to see the whole shore dotted with these waving
yellow claws, which, on the very slightest movement on your part, vanish
in the twinkling of an eye, and leave you standing alone on a dull
expanse of brown mud, without a symptom to suggest the existence of this
great army of crabs.
How delighted Ran would be if he could only see the daring little bronze
lizards, with bright blue tails, which keep darting about the verandah
and all about the rooms. I am sitting on a long wicker-chair, and a big
lizard and a little one have been playing hide-and-seek for the last
two hours, the little one darting in and out through the holes in the
wicker-work, sometimes at my back, sometimes darting under the chair and
reappearing in front: sometimes I catch a glimpse of a head whose diamond
eyes peep through the little round holes in the wicker; then a bit of
blue tail just reveals itself; sometimes it hides in the folds of my
dress. Altogether it is one of a family of great darlings.
Besides these various strange creatures, we find continual amusement
in watching the various natives who are constantly about the place. A
detachment of the native police live in several cottages just on the
other side of the _rara_, which is a small piece of rather level grass (a
most rare and valuable possession). Here they drill morning and evening
in correct European style; but I hope the word police will not suggest to
you visions of the British “bobby.” These are a most picturesque force,
and supply the Governor’s guard, boat-crews, orderlies, &c. We are such
near neighbours that we hear their yangona _mékés_, whenever they brew
their beloved grog; and we also have full benefit of morning and evening
church parade and _lotu_. They have their own chaplain.
Some of them are exceedingly fine men, with strong muscular frame and
good features, set off by a splendid head of frizzy hair, which, I am
happy to say, Captain Knollys encourages them to grow long. Of course
it does not approach the gigantic mop of heathen days, but still it is
very large and carefully groomed. They periodically dip the whole in
coral-lime, and go about for a day or two white-headed; and very becoming
it is to them. I cannot speak of this as of one of the mysteries of the
toilet, for the washing is done in public. The girls when undergoing this
process look like court beauties got up for a fancy ball; and as for the
men, we might almost think we had a staff of powdered footmen, were it
not for a scarlet hybiscus or tuft of coloured grass knowingly stuck in
on one side; I even sometimes see one long cock’s feather. When the lime
is washed off, the hair, now beautifully clean, is combed out to its full
length, and while the roots retain their rich brown, the outer locks
vary from a warm russet to a tawny yellow, according to the quality of
the lime. Both colours harmonise well with the rich brown madder tone of
the skin. This also varies, ranging through senna to clear olive in the
men of Tongan or Samoan blood. The hair and body next share a coating of
cocoa-nut oil, and not till you have seen this applied can you realise
the force of the expression, “Oil to make him of a cheerful countenance.”
A Fijian who, from poverty or other cause, has failed to oil himself, is
a most wretched-looking creature.
We have had a good many visits lately from different chiefs, several of
whom have come to formal dinners, and have got through that ordeal in
the most creditable manner. I should think that sitting on chairs for
two hours, during a long series of courses of strange dishes, eaten with
unwonted knives and forks, must be very trying to them; but they are so
well bred, that they never allow themselves to appear bored, nor do they
make any mistakes,—and of course the Fijian servants are on the alert to
help them out of any dilemma; besides, at least one of the Governor’s
interpreters is always of the party. Some of the ladies have been asked
to dine, but have invariably excused themselves. They do not mind coming
to luncheon, which is less alarming, and occasionally bring pretty
children,—greatly to little Jack’s delight. He does love babies! Nevil
rather despises them. A few days ago a party of Fijian ladies were caught
in a tropical shower, just as they reached the house. All their pretty
native finery was destroyed; but we found no difficulty about supplying
dry clothing, as so little was required. Lady Gordon gave the principal
lady a new shawl to wear as a _sulu_, and begged her to accept it, which
she did with great satisfaction.
I forgot to tell you of one very pretty expedition I had last week.
Dr Macgregor had to visit the isle of Naingani to see if it would do
for a quarantine station, so he asked me to go with him. He had the
harbour-master’s boat, manned by six wild-looking Solomon Island and
New Britain boatmen. Three hours’ steady rowing brought us to a pretty
isle, with white coral shore, haunted by myriads of hermit-crabs, and
overshadowed by very fine old _ndelo_ trees. We lunched beside a pool
of fresh water on the shore, and found two good streamlets. The people
seemed very poor. The coral-patches were lovely, and I found much
amusement watching black and yellow sea slugs, with heads like flowers,
and black and white star-fish. Then I sketched the great trees, while the
doctor did his inspection; after which we had a lovely row home.
There is a good deal of sickness going about just now. Amongst other
sufferers is old Mrs Floyd, the mother of our parson, who has nursed her
with such unwearied devotion, that now he is quite worn out. So last
Sunday Captain Havelock undertook both services. He makes a first-rate
chaplain.
I have just been up the hill with Mrs Havelock. We sat under the shadow
of a great rock, with breezy sunshine all round us, and the lovely
harbour below. I wished you had been sitting there with me. We watched
the glowing sunset colours, though we were facing due east. Every morning
we see the sun rise out of the sea; and at night we sit out in the
starlight and watch the Great Bear, which appears just over Levuka, and
is very brilliant. It seems strange, does it not, that we, so low in the
southern hemisphere, should look on such a familiar reminder of home?
We have had a sad death in the family from gluttony! One of the
omnivorous laughing-jackasses contrived to catch Mrs Abbey’s pet canary,
and swallowed it, feathers and all. Strange to say, this actually proved
too much for its digestion—or rather for its throat, for it died of
suffocation. We shall hear its derisive laughter no more. Alas, poor
jackass!
The English mail has just brought me a budget of home-letters, and news
of many matters that come to us as vivid reminders of the far-away grey
isles, which I do sometimes long to see, for the sake of the many warm
hearts they contain,—not that I find these lacking in any corner of the
earth. Good-bye, darling.—Your loving sister.
* * * * *
FIJI, _March 29, 1876_.
DEAREST NELL,—I have just received, and greatly enjoyed, my budget of
home-letters.... At present I am staying in Levuka, nursing my pretty,
nice little friend, Mrs de Ricci, who has a very severe attack of fever.
She has been for ten days in great danger, and is even now in high
delirium. She and I have been great friends ever since we first met in
Sydney; for she is a bright sunny little woman, always ready to make the
best of everything. Her husband is the Attorney-General here; but their
household, like most others in this land of discomfort, consists of a
rough Irish girleen and an unkempt Fijian lad; so when the bonny little
woman was taken very ill, Dr Macgregor came to see if I would go to help
for a night. I have stayed on ever since, as she knows me through her
delirium, and is content generally to do what I ask her. So hitherto we
have rejected the various kind offers of help from friendly neighbours,
and have divided the watches between us, and so manage very well. Nursing
is much simplified in the tropics, where you have not to think about
fires, happing up clothes, and keeping out draughts. On the other hand,
nothing will keep, and your milk and beef-tea and chicken-broth go bad
almost before you can use them. Our patient has to eat something every
hour; and sometimes it is difficult to keep things fresh. However, I
think she is getting on pretty well.
* * * * *
NASOVA, _Sunday, April 2_.
Alas! our watching proved in vain. Yesterday morning, in the grey dawn,
the sweet soul passed quietly away, unconsciously and without pain, in
her early spring-time. She was only twenty-two. She had battled through
the fever and subsequent dysentery, and we thought all danger was over,
when suddenly a change for the worse set in, and it became evident there
was no hope. We have the comfort of knowing that if human skill could
have availed to keep her here, we certainly had excellent medical advice,
having two very clever doctors—Macgregor and Mayo—in constant attendance,
and two more in consultation.... Her one regret, since she arrived here,
was that she had left her only child in England—a lovely little fellow,
aged three. She has missed him sorely. Now we are glad to think that he
is safe at home.... At sunset we laid her to rest, under the shadow of a
great boulder of red rock, on a headland overlooking the sea, with palms
and wild-citron trees and tall reedy grass all round,—a most lovely spot,
especially at sunrise, when the sun comes up out of the sea—or in the
beautiful moonlight. I found it one day while exploring the bush round
the cemetery. It is within its boundaries, yet quite apart. Captain
Knollys had a narrow path cleared yesterday leading to it. The evening
was dreary beyond description. The sea and sky were leaden. We had the
first part of the service in church by candle-light. Mr Maudslay had made
a lovely cross of white flowers, which lay on the coffin. By the time
we came out it was quite dark, and we stumbled along the wretched path
through the town to the shore, where boats were waiting. Of course we
were all present, and sad enough, as you may well believe; for this is a
heavy cloud for our small community.
It is two miles from the church to the cemetery (which lies a mile beyond
Nasova). Happily it did not rain while we were going, but previous
downpours had made the steep clay path leading up to the hill from the
sea-beach so slippery, that it was all the sailors could do to carry the
coffin (Captain Grant Suttie had sent his boats and men from the Nymphe).
The service was read by the dim light of a lantern, and was scarcely
ended when the rain fell in torrents—a dismal night indeed....
To-day is clear and beautiful. Arthur Gordon went up the hill to search
for lovely mosses, and Baron von Hügel and I made a large cross of ferns,
white silky grass, and scarlet balsams, which we carried to the now
sacred headland—one more spot of earth to recall our favourite motto,
_Ci rivedremo_.[28] To-morrow a tall rude cross of cocoa-nut palm will
be placed there, to mark the spot, till a permanent one of granite can
come from England. On this island there is no stone suitable for the
purpose,—nothing but coarse conglomerate. I do not need to tell you how
closely this has touched us all, and tended to draw us together. One of
our little sisterhood already gone, in her very prime.... Her husband
returns to England by the first steamer to see his child.
Sir William and Lady Hackett are also to leave almost immediately, he
having been appointed a judge of the Supreme Court in Ceylon.[29]...
* * * * *
NASOVA, _April 6_.
I have just received a most kind letter from the Langhams, who are going
for a month’s cruise among the small isles in the centre of the group.
They go in the mission-ship the Jubilee, and invite me to go with them.
Of course I have accepted gladly; and the fact of the mission-house at
Bau being thus left empty is such a grand chance of a change for Lady
Gordon and the chicks, that the Governor has asked for the loan of it,
which has been cordially granted, and Mrs Havelock will accompany them.
We all felt that after such a trying time a change of scene would be very
desirable; but one of the many drawbacks of this colony is, that there is
literally no place to which ladies and children can go for a few days,
unless such a chance as this occurs. Even the wretched house which Sir
Arthur rented at Suva last December is now turned into a public-house,
where we could not stay again; and however hospitably inclined our white
neighbours may be, there are probably not half-a-dozen in the whole group
who have even one spare room. So it happens that neither Mrs Havelock,
Lady Hackett, Mrs Macgregor (nor dear little Mrs de Ricci), have had one
day’s absence from Levuka since they landed here in July.
I believe the real secret of preserving health in this climate is
frequent change of air, and, as you know, I have been pretty constantly
on the move. But it is not every lady who could enjoy the sort of
prolonged gipsy or picnic life as much as I do. Now we are starting to
try it in a new phase.
H.M.S. Barracouta has just come into harbour, and Captain Stevens dined
here last night. He unfortunately got mixed in the Samoan difficulties,
and has brought Colonel Steinberger here as a prisoner, which is rather
embarrassing. A few days ago a barque arrived here from Samoa, bringing
eight wounded sailors belonging to the Barracouta. They got into an
apparently senseless row with the natives, in which three blue-jackets
were killed. Doubtless this will involve some further complication.