long to see land again. The vessel called no where till she came to Cape
Town. And it took six weeks to get there from Port Adelaide. Only one
accident happened in all that time. One of the seamen fell overboard. It
was a fine morning and he could swim, and there was great rejoicing when
he was safely landed on the deck. I could just see his head such a long
way out in the sea. Every one came on deck, and some suggested that a
hot bath of sea water should be ready for him, but when he got on board
he simply laughed, rushed to the forecastle, and was up the rigging
again in quick time. "Going ashore at Cape Town" was the topic, and one
heard nothing else till the time came.
The South Australian was anchored nine miles out at sea. The passengers
thought this was on account of the rocky nature of the coast, but the
real reason was that the captain was afraid that the crew would desert
the ship and go off to the diamond fields. We were surrounded by
different kinds of boats. Our ship looked so high out of the water, with
those little boats near tossing about in the rough sea. It seemed as if
there were no means of getting into any of the vessels alongside. There
was no gangway or passage to the ships. They had a chair constructed out
of a cask and hoisted to the yard-arm. It was then drawn up to clear the
ship and the passengers were dropped into one of the little boats. Some
went ashore in that way the first day. There were better contrivances
the next, as the sea was not so rough, and I got ashore with the rest
and landed at Table Bay. I had often read about it, but when I saw it
everything looked so foreign. The captain, his wife, and child, and maid
took me with them to the George Hotel, where I lodged while ashore.
Cape Town delighted everybody. The next morning some of the captain's
friends came in a carriage and all went inland for a drive. I wandered
about all alone; I saw where the market was and many beautiful
buildings, and also the place where the ship's washing was done by men.
The people were all so different to Europeans in their dress and manner,
as well as in respect to the color of their skin. There were Hottentots
and Kaffirs, Zulus, and many others of all nationalities. To me it was
wonderland. And then there was Table Mountain, soaring to the sky. I
found the way to "Oak-avenue," a grove of oak trees of such a size
running on each side of this wide avenue which lead into the Botanical
Gardens and the Zoological Gardens. There were seats all about, so nice
to rest on during a hot day, and it was hot just then. From the
description of the animals at the Zoological Gardens as being fierce and
savage, I had decided not to go into the gardens alone.
Mr. and Mrs. Harris and another gentleman came along, and they suggested
that if I would lodge with them while we were ashore I would not be so
lonely. I gladly consented, but we had to ask the captain in the
evening, so I spent the whole day with Mr. and Mrs. Harris and their
friend. We all went to the gardens, and I did not think them so fine as
the Adelaide Gardens by a long way. But the sight of the animals struck
me with awe. The gentleman said he would like to see some of them on the
banks of the Torrens. I would not. The captain was willing, so I was
free to go with Mr. and Mrs. Harris. But before doing that I went back
to the ship again. They were lodging with a Boer lady. She was a widow.
The place looked beautiful and clean. The house must have been built
during the early Dutch settlement. It looked ancient, yet strong of
structure. It was flat roofed, and the first thing that I noticed was
that it had no ceilings, but only oaken rafters, in all the rooms. The
windows were fairly large, but with such tiny panes of glass. The floors
were bare, with only a mat here and there, and there were no ornaments,
but only just things for use. The floors were dark to look like the
rafters. The house was full of boarders, and the attendants were a
mixture of Zulus and Kaffirs and Malays. Those women are trained for
house work. The landlady's name was Mrs. Lund. She spoke English well,
and seemed anxious to know how we did things in South Australia.
I made it a point of interest to see the Dutch mode of domestic
management, so the next day she showed me all over the place. It was
considered a clean town, and the sanitary arrangements were good. There
was no deep drainage, although the house was in the middle of the town.
I saw the kitchen and other departments. No wonder that the Europeans do
not work much there, for they could get a well-trained help for five
shillings a month.
They had tramcars in Cape Town, although not running through the
streets. Many of the streets seemed all up hill. We got into a car drawn
by horses. You could travel inside or out, and we went to Sea Point,
about 10 miles along by the sea. There was a terrible mass of rocks
standing here and there in the sea which made one feel solemn. There
were grand looking houses, with large vineyards and strange trees all
about. We passed a large tract of land used for a burying ground, and
you could notice the difference between the graves. Each one had its own
singularity. Where we saw the tomb with a cross on it we knew it was
English. We could see this from the cars. There were houses being built
in some of the places we passed, and Mr. Harris was interested in them
as we saw natives working away at painting, carpentry, and masonry, and
all sorts of trades, just like other men. Only each one was dressed
according to his nationality. We passed a large ostrich farm, and saw
numerous "birds."
That evening in the verandah we heard joyful singing in Dutch voices. I
asked Mrs. Lund's sister what it was all about, and she told me that it
was the anniversary of the day when the slaves were freed from bondage.
I asked her what she thought of the times when people could be bought
and sold. She told me that as a child she had often gone with her father
to the market, and she pointed to the market place, and had seen him buy
the people he wanted. She herself would pick on some. All had something
to say about slavery. It gave me something to think about when I learned
that she did approve of the times when she could go and buy the slaves.
I forget the lady's name, but her home was at Natal. I liked Mrs. Lund
the best.
I told her how I was journeying, I knew not where, and she was the
kindest woman I have ever known. When I came ashore I thought it would
be cold in Cape Town, and so I had very thick garments. Mrs. Lund gave
me some of her outside garments, together with a sunshade, so that I
could go about, and said if circumstances should bring me back to Cape
Town again that I need not be afraid. I used to write to her, and I gave
some of her cards to friends. The kindness of this Dutch lady made me
grateful. Mr. and Mrs. Harris were also most kind, and took me with them
everywhere. We all went to the market one morning. Everyone was calling
out what he or she had to sell. To see how the way they dressed was
something wonderful. The native women wore sandals and the native men
also. I shall never forget going into a shop to buy some wool. Mrs.
Harris and I entered, and a man came to us and said, in good English,
that he knew that we would come for some wool. I asked him how he knew,
and he said he heard me say when passing that morning, "What pretty
wool." I remembered the remark. The man looked a picture. He had sandals
on, his doublet was of rich crimson, with green and golden colors for
the rest of his apparel. It did not matter what nationality they were,
they could all speak Dutch. What lovely fruit we got there. The
pineapples were very plentiful, while crayfish by the caskful were sent
on board.
The morning we were leaving Mrs. Lund sent some of her servants to
gather wildflowers for us. The wildflowers of South Africa were showy
and bright. We saw two camels, equipped for a journey in the desert,
with their Arabian drivers. It was February 24 when we landed there, and
the climate seemed very, like that of South Australia, only the tract of
country I saw looked dark. The poor old jetty or landing-place was very
primitive. The wood part of the jetty, from its appearance, must have
been very old. It seemed worm-eaten, and long moss was growing on it.
They have built a breakwater within the last few years, which comes out
in the sea thousands of feet, and in the stormy weather it is a great
protection. I scarcely knew what to take note of first. I saw any
quantity of donkeys in harness, and all sorts of strange-looking
conveyances.
While ashore it was all spare time to me, for there was only sightseeing
and writing to do. At every turn there was something to make one think,
if it was only to see some sailors eagerly clutching in their arms some
ostrich feathers as they made haste to get to their ships. Mr. H. M.
Stanley, the African explorer, had been at Cape Town just a little while
before, and from the many different photographs of him and his mixed
troops one saw he must have been on a good many occasions in Cape Town
while attempting to find Dr. Livingstone. I was ardent concerning every
object about Dr. Livingstone. Ever since I could remember I had heard
him spoken of in Scotland. I bought all the portraits of those two grand
men that I could afford, and took them to my friends in Scotland.
The buildings were most beautiful. But Table Mountain was the charm to
me. I could not keep my eyes off it. There was open war going on at
Natal, which brought such numbers of people to the Cape. That was why
Mrs. Lund's sister was there. Table Bay looked as active as if the
hostilities were there. One could constantly see the warships coming in
or going out. One ship came in the day we left with, I forget how many,
widows of the soldiers who had been slain at Natal. They were taking
those poor women to St. Helena. It was a sad sight. I saw that the decks
of the ship were crowded with women without any hats but only a
handkerchief tied round their heads.
Two things were stamped on my mind that day to remember for ever. One
was to see those sad-looking women; and the other was when Mr. Harris
went to pay Mrs. Lund for me. She would not charge anything for me.
Truly I was one who ventured out without gold or scrip. The woman meant
to be kind, but I realised the old motto, "Owe no man anything." It was
a new experience to me. I always did like to be free from obligation.
This unusual sympathy gave a human interest to the last glimpse of
loveliness that stretched out and about as far as the eye could see as
we got on board the old familiar ship again.
I was back to active work once more, and I was glad to see the little
tiny boy again. Now let come what may it was felt we would soon be in
London. Things ran all in the same groove, and sometimes the quiet grew
oppressive in a pause of the wind. We did not have the Rev. Charles
Clark after leaving the Cape. It made such a difference. All were now
talking about where they were going when they got to England. I was
asked where I was going; I did not quite know.
The only incident of any interest occurred when the ship anchored one
Sunday morning at St. Helena. Only the captain and the first mate went
ashore. We were so close that the people on shore could be seen. That
was the place to which they were taking those women we had seen a week
before. The island was a fortress in times of peace; the chief interest
was Napoleon's tomb and the Jacob's Ladder, from the shore to the upper
part of the island. How far away those times seem, and yet I saw by "The
Advertiser" this morning (as I write) that Mr. R. S. Smythe still trips
to and fro. He was the active manager for the Rev. Charles Clark in Cape
Town at the time of the events with which I am dealing in this story. He
has been there on the same kind of work since then.
The captain began to have some cleaning and painting done to the ship
before getting in to London. Some pots of white paint were left about on
the deck. The steward had a live kangaroo, which he was taking home to
exhibit, I suppose. It was in a place on the deck, and the little boy
whom nobody owned thought he would make the kangaroo think that the
white paint was milk. The animal sipped some and died. It was
mischievous of the child and for him it was a rude awakening. He had to
keep very quiet all the rest of the way.
I had nothing to complain of all the way. I was healthy. I loved to use
my strength and tired myself out, there being so much to think about and
wonder at; but I know that I was not happy. I was hardly ever idle. Mr.
and Mrs. Harris were the first to leave the ship when it reached
Plymouth, or Falmouth, I do not remember which. The ship travelled along
so gently and had the Isle of Wight in view so well. Then came the River
Thames. How careful the captain was all through that wonderful river; we
could hear his clear strong voice above the fog-horn as we passed
through so many other ships into the London docks.
I ARRIVE IN LONDON.
And then? And then? I had never been in London before. Long ere the ship
was steadied at the anchorage Mr. Charles Goode came on board to see his
brother and his wife and family. He brought the letters that had come
from the colony. For me there were five, all in black. My dear brother
died soon after I had left Adelaide. There was one dictated by himself,
wishing that I would come back, if only to see how his five little
children would get along. The necessities of human existence had to be
grasped. This suddenly put all thoughts of the Continent out of my head.
I knew I would have to leave the ship. I was sorrowing; and everyone I
knew was going out of the ship. I thought I was going to be ill. So much
had gone wrong, and I was face to face with trouble. When I looked in my
lap I found a good few sovereigns that one and another had left there
while my eyes were filled with tears. Some of the ladies told me before
we got into the dock that anything they left in their cabins would be
for me either to sell or otherwise dispose of. When some people came to
see if I had anything to sell I told the carpenter of the ship to do
what he liked with them. I was in too much grief at my painful loss to
care for them. My brother was only about 30 years of age when he died. I
went and saw the Rev. Dr. Oswald Dykes, D.D., at Oakley-square. I had
some mourning made at once and went from shipping office to shipping
office to get a berth to return to South Australia any how I could
manage it. I had a nice letter with the signature of Captain Bruce. And
the passengers also subscribed their names to a testimonial as to my
capability on the sea. Then I had a parchment, with writing on it, from
the owners of the South Australian, from their head office in London. I
have that yet. It was a terrible time. If I could have got a chance I
would have returned at once. I did not care whether it was in a
steamboat or not.
After a few days waiting I saw Captain Alstone, of the City of Adelaide,
who was taking his wife and a little child in his ship to Adelaide. I
agreed to be the lady's maid for my passage back to South Australia. But
they were not likely to start for a month or six weeks. It was a sailing
vessel also, and I saw the captain's wife and her dear little boy. I
adore children. And the lady was the most perfectly lovely woman I ever
looked upon. So I had most of my things put on board the ship. The month
of May had just began. I had some letters of introduction from some
friends in Adelaide to their friends in Bradford, near Manchester. I had
also with me some letters from friends in Adelaide to their relatives,
with cordial wishes that I would go and see them if I went to Glasgow.
Before I left South Australia I formed the resolution to go and see my
husband's relations. I had their addresses through writing to John all
the long three years he was there. Their place was in Cambridgeshire. I
gave Captain Alstone the address that would find me if the ship went
before the month.
I have kept a record of that time by me ever since. I was close to the
Tower of London; and there was no charge, so I went in about 11 o'clock
and was there till 4 o'clock. I was on the move all the time, and then
did not see half of that stronghold. Oh! the grandeur and the horrors of
it. It was wonderful to think what strife and passion had done during
the events of the dark ages of violence and torture. There were men
dressed so queerly, with long staves in their hands--the Yeomen of the
Guard--who showed the visitors where persons we read of in history were
imprisoned. Then the various kinds of armor were arranged in distinctive
collections, according to the various periods; while there were all
sorts of weapon--swords, and daggers, and axes, with breast and back
plates. I saw the torture-room and the awful block and the axe which cut
off the heads. It was too grim an atmosphere in which to think of either
honor or glory in that fortress of chapels, and vaults and recesses,
with dungeons about and beneath the building. What scenes some must have
gone through while in their prison lodging. I saw the Queen's crown and
her sceptre, which is said to be made of pure gold, and ever so many
more things of which I have forgotten the names. There was quite a fence
all round them, and some of the guards were watchful all the time. There
were kings and knights on horseback, just as if they were off to the
war. It would have taken a week to see it all. One thing I will never
forget. Just as I was coming out at the gate one of the officials in
charge of the place came after me and touched me on the shoulder. He
asked if I had lost my keys. I looked in my handbag and found that I
had. He said if I would come back I could have them. I was thankful, for
otherwise I should have had to have the locks of my trunks taken off. I
asked him how he knew that I had lost the keys. He replied that he knew
that I was a stranger, as he had never seen me there before.
"But," I said, "the place was crowded."
"Yes," he replied, "but most of those people come here every day."
I only saw a few of the sights of London. I could not imagine being in
London as everything seemed so uncertain there. What a place to be alone
in London is. I decided to go to Cambridge, or, rather, a place a little
out of Cambridge, called March. All my curiosity in that great city of
London was lost amid my tangled affairs. I made enquiry and found out
about the train service. I determined that anyway I would chance seeing
the people, although I hardly expected that they would care to see me
after what had occurred. I knew I had loved and suffered, but I had not
sinned. Then why should I not see them? I arrived at what seemed a
wayside station when it was a bit late. I asked where Mr. George Allen's
house was, and was told that his farm was three miles distant. There was
an hotel there, and I asked for a room for the night. I did not want to
meet people who might show some aloofness till the following morning. In
my portmanteaus there was some printed matter, showing that I had come
from Australia. The hotelkeeper came into the sitting-room and made
enquiries as to whether I had come from there, and alone, and we had a
long talk. He knew Mr. George. All went very well, and he told me that
either he or his wife would drive me over there next day. It was quite
cold although only May 2, there being no fire in the room.
Both ladies and gentlemen, when Australia was mentioned, became
interested and the talk became general. I was asked all sorts of
questions. It came unexpectedly to me to learn how much the people knew
about the colony. I thought then that if the young girls and women in
Australia could have only heard the manner in which those Englishmen
spoke about them they would have realised that this is an age of
chivalry. According to them the colonial girl can do anything.
In the morning, after breakfast, there was the little pony carriage,
with a boy, to take me to Mr. Allen's house. It had the queer name of
Hook farm. It was a lovely morning and all the fields were white with
daisies. The house was of two storeys and near to the road side. The
people promised to wait with the carriage till I came out, if I could
not stop there for a day or two. Mrs. Allen came to the door and I told
her who I was. She sent for Mr. Allen, who was away on the farm. He soon
arrived on horseback. The very clasp of his hand made me long to claim
kinship with him. He went out and told the boy to bring my portmanteau
and I was kindly treated. I found that they had a photograph of me and,
as he said, I was no imposition.
There was a large family. The lady was his second wife, and she was nice
too. They brought their friends to see me and took me about. I only
wanted to stop for a couple of days, as I was anxious to get to
Scotland, where any letters would be waiting for me, but I stayed over
the Sunday. All the curios I had brought from the Cape Mr. Allen had
shown to the children at the Sunday-school, and altogether I had a
pleasant time, so far as they could make it one, but still there was the
thought as to why John had brought his cousin to Adelaide to me. It
seems that she left her own husband in Oldham. Those relations did not
think it was right.
How faithful and true I could have been if life had only given me the
chance. In three days after we were married he went to England and
stayed there for three years. What was the use of my married life? I had
hardly strength of purpose to carry anything through. I was sacrificed
by ruthless hands, which took from me all that I held dear, and left me
without any claim or right, except to submit to everything. Oh, the
happy women who are sheltered by a husband's faithfulness! What woman
could have had a more useful life than I?
Mr. Allen drove me to the railway-station. The address I had was for
some people in Bradford, near Manchester. In the train I had to keep
showing my ticket every here and there. I told them I was going to
Bradford, and settled myself to have a good view of that beautiful
country. When asked where I was going, I said, "Bradford." Trains and
carriages were changed en route, and at last I found myself in Bradford,
in Yorkshire. Then I showed my ticket and had it explained that the
Bradford I wanted was a continuation of Manchester. I learned when I got
there it bore the same relation as North Adelaide to Adelaide.
I had some tea in the town of Bradford, and got back to Manchester that
night at about 11 o'clock. The people I was to go to were well known, as
they kept the post and telegraph office. In this Bradford there was no
break, so far as buildings went, and when I saw it afterwards it all
seemed Manchester. Those kind folks had a letter from Adelaide to inform
them that I would visit them, and expressing the hope that they would
try and persuade the mother of the Adelaide lady to return with me to
Adelaide. I got a cab to take me there, but they had gone to bed. How
they did laugh when I told them I had gone to Yorkshire! I was
interested in writing in my note-book all the names of the different
places, but it was too much trouble to look at the ticket so many times.
However, it was a lesson for me not to neglect the precaution again.
Although the mistake was purely my own the railway company did not make
any charge, and I got all that way back for the Manchester ticket. Mr.
Allen got the ticket for me.
Only for that incident I would not have seen so many places. The train
stopped at Wakefield and Halifax. It was dark coming back, and I had
been in the train all that day, so that I was weary. I had the best
bedroom and some supper, and when I awoke in the morning there were all
the little children in the room to see the woman that came from aunty's
place over the sea. There was the grandma, too, that I was to take back.
She shook her head and said--"Na, na, I am a true Briton; I will never
cross the sea. Here I was born, and here I will die."
There was plenty to be seen in Manchester. Mr. Ride, with whom I was
staying, had a stationery and book shop, as well as the post-office, and
the high reputation of Mr. and Mrs. Ride was acknowledged everywhere.
They were well-known and respected. He seemed to have the "entree" to
all the warehouses. In some of them I saw some busy-looking gentlemen
from Adelaide hurrying about.
They took me to see the Bluecoat Boys' School. I made no note of that. I
can see those dear boys now. No one could forget them. Then we went to
Oldham and I did not like it so well. It looked a poor place and gloomy,
and the humble people wore wooden clogs on their feet. The noise they
made was distracting.