APPENDICES
A. THE FAUNA AND FLORA OF TRISTAN
B. THE WEATHER
C. SOME TRISTAN WORDS
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
I THE SETTLEMENT [_Frontispiece_]
II THE PEAK SHOWING ABOVE CLOUDS
III BETTY COTTON'S HOUSE (FRONT), OUR NEW HOME
IV BETTY COTTON'S HOUSE (BACK)
V THE WATERFALL
VI MOCCASINS
VII THE CEMETERY
VIII HILL TOP. INACCESSIBLE IN THE DISTANCE
IX THE FLAGSTAFF
X GOING WEST
XI IN SCHOOL
XII BIG BEACH
XIII THE HENRY GREEN FAMILY AT WORK ON A POTATO PATCH
XIV A PAIR OF PENGUINS
XV EARLY MORNING FROM THE WEST, SHOWING SNOW IN CREVASSE, NEAR PEAK
XVI BUGSBY HOLE
XVII THE CRATER LAKE
XVIII ON THE SUMMIT OF THE PEAK
XIX COMPLETE GROUP OF THE ISLANDERS
XX A GROUP OF ALL THE MEN
XXI THE PATH OF PLANTATION GULCH
XXII CATTLE, NEAR POTATO PATCHES
XXIII A PENGUIN ROOKERY
XXIV SHEEP BEING DRIVEN HOME
XXV OUR BATHING PLACE (LITTLE BEACH)
XXVI THE OLD CHURCH HOUSE
XXVII LANDING GOODS
XXVIII MRS. REPETTO FISHING
XXIX MR. KEYTEL'S HOUSE
XXX FRESHWATER CAVE
XXXI MOLLYHAWK ON ITS NEST
XXXII NEARLY FINISHED
XXXIII THE KETCH
XXXIV FISH-CLEANING
XXXV HOTTENTOT GULCH
XXXVI ALL THE WOMEN AND CHILDREN
XXXVII ORANGES AND LEMONS
THREE YEARS IN TRISTAN DA CUNHA
CHAPTER I
Tristan da Cunha, a British possession, is an island-mountain of volcanic
origin in the South Atlantic ocean. Latitude 37° 5' 50" S.; longitude 12°
16' 40" W. Circular in form. Circumference about 21 miles. Diameter about
7 miles. Height 7,640 feet. Volcano extinct during historic times.
Discovered by the Portuguese navigator Tristan da Cunha, 1506. Occupied by
the British, 1816. Nearest inhabited land, the island of St. Helena, 1,200
miles to the N.
In the autumn of 1904 we saw in the _Standard_ a letter which arrested our
attention. It was an appeal for some one to go to the Island of Tristan da
Cunha, as the people had had no clergyman for seventeen years.
Now, Tristan da Cunha was not an unknown name to us, for as a child my
husband loved to hear his mother tell of her shipwreck on Inaccessible, an
uninhabited island twenty-five miles south-west of Tristan da Cunha.
She, then a child of four, and her nurse were passengers on the _Blendon
Hall_, which left London for India in May 1821, and was wrecked during a
dense fog on Inaccessible, July 23. The passengers and crew drifted ashore
on spars and fragments of the vessel. Two of the crew perished, and nearly
all the stores were lost. For four months they lived on this desolate
island. A tent made out of sails was erected on the shore to protect the
women and children from the cold and rain. They lived almost entirely on
the eggs of sea-birds.
After waiting some time in hope of being seen by a ship, they made a raft
from the remains of the wreck, and eight of the crew set off in it to try
to reach Tristan, but were never heard of again, poor fellows. A few weeks
later a second and successful attempt was made. The men reached Tristan,
but in a very exhausted state. Then the Tristanites, led by Corporal
Glass, manned their boats, and at great personal risk succeeded in
fetching off the rest of the crew and passengers, who remained on Tristan
till January 9, 1822, on which day a passing English brig took them to the
Cape of Good Hope.
This was eighty-four years ago. And now the son of that little shipwrecked
girl was seriously thinking of going out to minister to the children of
her rescuers. Here I may mention that in the whole of their history, from
1816 to 1906, they had had only two clergymen living amongst them.
The first to go out was the Rev. W. F. Taylor, under the S.P.G. in 1851, a
young London warehouseman who had not long been ordained. It is related by
one of the passengers of the ship in which Mr. Taylor was sailing that the
master of the vessel had great difficulty in locating the island, and that
for three days they cruised about and saw nothing resembling land. The
third day towards evening the skipper gave up the search and headed for
the Cape. Mr. Taylor, who was gazing towards the setting sun suddenly saw
the Peak of Tristan, which is 7,640 feet high, emerge out of the clouds.
It was about ninety miles away. The captain turned back, and his passenger
was safely landed. Mr. Taylor stayed there some five years. On his
departure he induced about forty-five of the islanders to accompany him to
Cape Colony, where they settled down.
The second clergyman, also in connection with the S.P.G., was the Rev. E.
H. Dodgson, a brother of "Lewis Carroll." He arrived in December 1880 from
St. Helena, and landed in safety, but the ship was driven ashore and he
lost nearly all his clothing and books. One of the very few things washed
ashore was a small stone font, which, curiously enough, was undamaged.
In December 1884 Mr. Dodgson, who was much out of health, got a passage to
the Cape in a man-of-war. It was not his intention to return. But the next
year a great calamity befell the Tristanites. Fifteen of their men put off
in a new lifeboat to a ship, and were all drowned. Out of a population of
ninety-two there were now only four male adults, and one of these was out
of his mind and giving a good deal of trouble. Tristan had suddenly become
an island of widows and children. When Mr. Dodgson heard of this calamity
he at once offered to return. It being thought that the islanders were on
the brink of starvation, H.M.S. _Thalia_ was sent to their relief, and Mr.
Dodgson sailed in her, reaching Tristan in August 1886. He remained till
December 1889, when ill health again obliged him to leave. This time ten
of the inhabitants left with him.
To go back to the period when we ourselves began to think of going out.
After some months of serious consideration we resolved to make the
attempt, and at once began to face the question of how to get there. To
get to Tristan da Cunha is no easy matter; it took us nearly five months.
There is no regular communication with it, and it has no harbour.
Formerly a man-of-war from the Cape station visited it once a year, but
since the South African War this annual visit has been discontinued. Mr.
Dodgson advised us to go to St. Helena and there await a whaler. He had
found this the best plan. So accordingly we set off from Southampton on
November 18, 1905--my husband, our maid and myself, taking with us a
year's food supply and a very limited amount of furniture. St. Helena was
reached in seventeen days. An interview with the American Consul, who was
courtesy itself, convinced us there was no likelihood of getting a
passage. The whalers that called there were from New Bedford in America,
and none were expected. Our visit, however, was not entirely in vain,
because we had the advantage of meeting the Bishop of St. Helena, who
showed us much kindness, and of talking over our plans with him. The
diocese of St. Helena must be unique. It consists of the three islands,
St. Helena, Ascension, and Tristan da Cunha. There is no clergyman on the
two last, and only the bishop and three clergymen on St. Helena. No bishop
of St. Helena has as yet landed upon Tristan da Cunha.
We decided to go on to Cape Town by the next steamer, which port we
reached early in January, knowing no one beyond a few fellow-passengers.
Not wishing to go to an hotel we took some rooms of which we heard from
the chaplain of the Seamen's Mission. For the next few weeks my husband
spent his time visiting the different shipping agencies and the docks, but
to no purpose, as no ship would call at Tristan. We even cabled to a
company in England; "No" met our every inquiry. February had now set in,
and we thought that the best thing to do was to take a small unfurnished
house and wait in hope that a man-of-war would be visiting the island at
the end of the year. We had been about a month in this house when news
came from my sister-in-law in England that the very company to which we
had cabled and which had a monthly service between Table Bay and the River
Plate was ready to take us for a named sum, but only on the understanding
that should the weather be too rough to land us on Tristan we should have
to go on to Buenos Ayres. In spite of the uncertainty involved it seemed
right to accept this offer. We embarked on the steamer _Surrey_ on March
31, but did not start till next day, Sunday, as some repairs had to be
done to one of the engines. There went with us Tom Rogers, a Tristanite,
who was glad of the opportunity of returning to his island home.
During our stay at Cape Town we had made many kind friends. Among them
were Mr. Beverley, the rector of Holy Trinity Church, and Mrs. Beverley.
They had helped us in looking for a house, helped in shopping, helped in
packing, insisted on our taking our last meal with them, and came with us
to the steamer. We found the steamer very crowded, the passengers quite
outnumbering the berths, and it was not until evening that we could
procure a cabin. But one thing I much appreciated: our collie was allowed
to be with us during the day. We had only had him a few days, but he
behaved excellently, lying at our feet most of the time. He came to us as
"Whisky," but was promptly re-named "Rob."
[Illustration: THE PEAK SHOWING ABOVE CLOUDS]
CHAPTER II
On the early morning of the eighth day--it was Palm Sunday--the
mountainous cliffs of Tristan could dimly be discerned. My husband had
gone up on deck two or three times while it was yet dusk to see if land
was visible; while I kept looking out of the porthole, although it was not
a very large outlook. At about four o'clock he dressed and wrote several
letters. At six o'clock, accompanied by Rob, I went on to the lower deck
and could see Tristan enshrouded in mist. At about nine o'clock we arrived
opposite the settlement. A high wind was blowing and the sea was rough.
But this did not prevent the islanders setting off in two of their canvas
boats to board the steamer. It was with great interest I went on deck to
speak to them. I was greeted by an Italian, who in broken English said--
"It not very comfortable for a lady."
They said it was too rough for us to land at the settlement, but that if
we went back eight or nine miles round to another part of the island
landing would be possible. It did not take long to steam back, but it took
many hours to land the luggage. This was done under the direction of the
third officer by a ship's boat manned by several passengers, who were most
keen to help, and by the two island boats. But it was done under
considerable difficulty, "a dangerous swell running on to a steep pebbly
beach." Twice the ship's boat filled with water, and once a man was washed
overboard, but was hauled in again. The harmonium was floating in the sea,
but being in a zinc-lined case took no harm. By the afternoon the sea had
quieted down a little, and it was decided that it would be safe for us to
land at the settlement. Personally I was rather disappointed at this
decision; but it gave, we believe, much satisfaction to the captain, who
did not seem at all to like the idea of landing us on the sea-shore, where
we should certainly have had to spend one night, and might have had to
spend several. We steamed to within three-quarters of a mile of the
settlement, and between three and four o'clock all was in readiness for us
to leave the steamer. Farewells were said, and then we descended to the
lower deck, which was crowded with people. One island boat had already
left. The other had been hauled on to the ship, and it was thought best
that we should get into it and then be lowered. As they began to lift the
boat there was an ominous crack, which caused the chief officer to tell us
to get out, which we quickly did. The boat was then lowered into the sea.
One by one we made the descent of about forty feet down the ship's side on
a swinging rope ladder, holding a rope in each hand, and having one round
our waist, and with an officer going in front of us. We had to wait for
the right moment to jump into the boat which was rising and falling with
the waves. The collie came last; it seemed an interminable time before he
appeared. He was roped, and struggling as for his life; he managed to
clamber back to the deck, but was pushed off again, and at last reached us
in a most terrified condition, and trembling violently. It was really hard
work to hold him in the boat. We were now ready to pull off. Farewells
were waved and cheers given, and I think the last strains we heard were
"For he's a jolly good fellow." It was not easy getting away from the
ship, and it looked rather alarming as we descended and mounted with the
waves. The spray kept dashing over us, and I felt it running down my neck,
but before long we got into quieter water. The steamer stood by until
we were out of danger, and then we saw it steaming away with the
fellow-passengers who had been so kind to us. Now, indeed, we felt we were
leaving the world behind us. But we could see quite a crowd awaiting us on
the shore and others running down the steep cliff to the beach. We were
not allowed to land until the boat was drawn up on the shingle. There we
found nearly all the colony and a swarm of dogs. We struggled up the bank
of shingle over wet seaweed, and went round and shook hands with the
elders. Seeing we had no hats, and the veils which we were wearing in
their place were wet through, two of the younger women came forward and
offered Ellen and myself a coloured handkerchief to tie over our heads,
and, I think, tied them on. We were much touched by this kind attention
and the welcome it conveyed.
When the boat had been drawn up to its place we sang the doxology,
lingered a little, and then, conducted by the inhabitants, filed up the
steep rocky road to the top of the cliff and on to the grassy common. The
scenery was very fine, towering mountains in the background, the
settlement below with its quaint little stone, thatched houses, and the
sea with its white-crested waves. We were taken to Betty Cotton's house,
the first to be reached. She was there to give us a welcome. We had to
bend our heads as we entered the porch, but to our surprise were led into
quite a spacious room with two windows.
[Illustration: BETTY COTTON'S HOUSE (FRONT), OUR NEW HOME]
[Illustration: BETTY COTTON'S HOUSE (BACK)]
A large number followed us in. I felt a little shy, so many eyes were upon
us, and all the conversation had to emanate from us. After a time there
was a movement: the men in whose boat we had come went off to change their
wet clothes.
Betty, who was seventy-six and very active, began to prepare the table for
tea, and I must say the prospect of tea was most welcome. There were
spectators of that meal and of many ensuing ones. Later on our friends
came to see us again, and the room was packed all round. I could hear much
whispering among the women in the passages: no doubt anxious discussion
was going on as to our sleeping accommodation. Betty decided to sleep out;
Mr. Dodgson's room was assigned to us, and the adjoining room which had no
window and was more like a cupboard, to Ellen.
My husband had some talk with the people, telling them what had drawn him
to Tristan and of his mother's shipwreck, and then closed with a few
verses from the Bible and prayer. We were tired after our day of
adventures, and thankful to retire to rest.
CHAPTER III
We woke up next morning realizing that we were at last, after more than a
year of anticipation and months of travel, amongst the settlers on Tristan
da Cunha.
The present settlement dates from 1816, when a garrison was sent by the
Cape Government to occupy the island, as it was thought that Tristan might
be used as a base by Napoleon's friends to effect his escape from St.
Helena. In February 1817 the British Government determined to withdraw the
garrison, and a man-of-war was dispatched to remove it. Three of the men
asked to remain, the chief being William Glass of Kelso, N.B., a corporal
in the Royal Artillery, who had with him his wife--a Cape coloured woman--
and his two children. Later, others came to settle on the island, three by
shipwreck; and some left it; the inhabitants in 1826 being seven men, two
wives and two children.
Five of these men, who were bachelors, asked the captain of a whaler to
bring them each a wife from St. Helena. He did his best and brought five
coloured women--one a widow with four children. Of these marriages only
one, I believe, turned out happily. A daughter of this marriage was Betty
Cotton, our landlady. She was the eldest of seven daughters, and had five
brothers. Her father, Alexander Cotton, was born at Hull, and was an old
man-of-war's man, and for three years had guarded Napoleon at Longwood,
St. Helena. Thomas Hill Swain, another of the five, came from Sussex and
served in the _Theseus_ under Nelson. He married the widow, and used to
tell his children, of whom there were four daughters living on the island
when we were there, that he was the sailor who caught Nelson when he fell
at Trafalgar. This old man was vigorous to the last. At the age of one
hundred and eight he was chopping wood, when a splinter flying into his
eye caused his death. The result, of course, of these marriages was a
coloured race. Some of the children are still very dark in appearance, but
the colour is gradually dying out.
Another well-known islander, Peter William Green, came nearly twenty years
later. He was a Dutch sailor, a native of Katwijk, on the North Sea, whose
ship in trying to steal the islanders' sea elephant oil got in too close
and was wrecked. He settled down and married one of the four daughters of
the widow, and became eventually headman and marriage officer. Queen
Victoria sent him a framed picture of herself, which, unfortunately, has
been taken away to the Cape. He died in 1902 at the age of ninety-four.
In the next decade came Rogers and Hagan from America; and in the early
nineties the two Italian sailors Repetto and Lavarello of Comogli, who
were shipwrecked.
I believe the population has never numbered more than one hundred and
nine. At the time of our arrival it was seventy-one, of whom only ten had
ever been away from the island. The language spoken is English, but their
vocabulary is limited.
The soldiers pitched their camp at the north end of a strip of land
stretching about six miles in a north-westerly direction, where it is
crossed by a constant stream of the purest and softest water. It is said
they built two forts, one commanding Big Beach and Little Beach Bays, and
one further inland to command what was thought the only approachable
ascent to the mountain heights. The position of the first fort is known,
the raised ground for mounting two guns being distinctly visible on the
top of Little Beach Point; but the islanders do not think the second fort
was ever built.
The settlers naturally chose this camp as the site for their settlement,
and there they built their houses. When we arrived there were sixteen,
three of which were uninhabited. They all face the sea; and run east and
west. On account of the very high winds the walls are built about four
feet thick at the gable ends, and about two feet at the sides. Most of the
stone they are built of is porous, in consequence of which the walls on
the south side are very damp and are often covered on the inside with a
green slime. The houses are thatched with a reed-like grass called
tussock, which is grown in the gardens or on a piece of ground near. The
thatch will last from ten to fifteen years, that on the sunny side lasting
considerably the longer. Turf is used to cover the ridge of the roof, but
this is not altogether satisfactory as the soil works through, and when
there is a gale the rooms below are thick with dust. Perhaps the dust is
also caused by the innumerable wood-lice which work in the wood and make a
fine wood-dust. Every house has a loft running the whole length of it. We
found ours the greatest boon as it was the only place we had in which to
keep the year's stores. The woodwork of nearly all the houses is from
wrecked ships; boards from the decks form the flooring, masts and yards
appear as beams, cabin doors give entrance to the rooms.
The houses when I first went into them struck me as most dreary; no fire,
hardly any furniture, just a bare table, a wooden sofa which is nearly
always used as a bed, a bench, and perhaps a chair, with a seaman's chest
against the wall, a chimney-piece covered with a pinked newspaper hanging,
on which stood pieces of crockery, on the walls a few pictures and ancient
photographs. There are large open fire-places, but no grates or stoves,
the cooking being done on two iron bars supported by fixed stones.
The rooms are divided off by wooden partitions. There are generally two
bedrooms; the end one is also nearly always used as a kitchen, and the
groceries are usually kept there. On account of the high winds there are
generally windows only on the north of the house, which is the sunny side,
due to Tristan's being south of the equator.
Every house has a garden, but not used to grow vegetables or flowers,
which the people do not seem to care about, and certainly there are
difficulties owing to high winds, rats, fowls, and, not least, children.
They sometimes grow a few onions, cabbages and generally pumpkins: a few
pink roses and geraniums may be seen. Potatoes are their staple food, and
are grown in walled-in patches about three miles off. Each house has one
or two huts, in one of which they stow away their potatoes, and also a
lamb-house.
In the matter of clothing, the men have not much difficulty, as they
barter with the sailors on passing ships, giving in exchange the skins of
albatross and mollyhawks, the polished horns of oxen, small calf-skin bags
and penguin mats made by the women, and occasionally wild-cat skins. They
usually wear blue dungaree on week-days, and broadcloth or white duck on
Sundays. With the women and children it is different, for they depend on
parcels sent by friends, and as of late years there has been no regular
communication with the island they have been at times very short,
especially of underclothing. Now that whalers have begun to call again,
two or three appearing about Christmas time, they can sometimes get
material from them, but, except the dungaree, it is very poor stuff, and
they have to pay a high price in exchange. The women usually have a very
neat appearance, no hole is allowed to remain in a garment, which is at
once patched, and many and varied are the patches. They wear blouses which
they call jackets, and in the place of hats, coloured handkerchiefs
(occasionally procured from ships), which are worn all day, from morning
to night, and only taken off on very hot days, or when they are going to
be photographed, when as a rule no amount of persuasion will induce them
to keep them on. The little girls wear sun-bonnets, "capies" they call
them, and very well they look in them. The little boys wear short jackets
and long knickers. The women and girls card and spin their own wool, which
they knit into socks and stockings.
As regards food, potatoes take the place of bread. There are about twenty
acres under cultivation, each man having his own patches. They never
change the seed and rarely the ground. A man may enclose as many patches
as he likes provided he cultivates them. They used to manure their ground
with seaweed, but found its constant use made the ground hard; then they
tried guano, and finally sheep manure, which they use in large quantities.
They get it by driving their sheep during the lambing season four or five
times a week into the lamb-houses, penning them up from about five in the
afternoon until eight or nine next morning. The poor sheep must suffer
considerably both from being driven so much and because they get no food
while penned in. In spite of this barbarous practice the mutton when we
first went was very good--equal, we thought, to the best Welsh mutton, but
latterly its quality much fell off, and we found the sheep were largely
infected with scab. The people occasionally have beef in the winter.
Their method of killing the ox is very cruel, for often the poor animal is
chased about over the settlement by men and dogs, and only killed after
many shots. There is generally a good supply of milk. Betty Cotton at one
time milked sixteen cows, and made a large quantity of butter which she
sent by the man-of-war to her relations at the Cape. The making of cheese
has been quite given up. From July to October the men get a great number
of eaglet, penguin, and mollyhawk eggs--all sea-fowl. Fish can be caught
all the year round. Any groceries obtained must come from passing ships.
Sometimes months go by without tea, coffee, sugar, flour, salt and soap
being seen.
The cooking is done mostly in large pots and frying-pans, as there are no
ovens, though a temporary one is made on special occasions such as a great
feast. The chief meat dish is stuffed mutton, the stuffing consisting of
potatoes and parsley seasoned with pepper and salt. The greatest delicacy
is the stuffed sucking-pig which takes the place of our turkey.
The animals on the island are cattle, sheep, donkeys, pigs, geese, fowls,
dogs, cats and rats. There were about seven hundred head of cattle in
1905, far more than there was pasture for. Between the months of May and
November of that year nearly four hundred died from starvation. From the
same cause a loss of cattle occurs every few years, but never before had
there been so great a one. The number of sheep was about eight hundred; of
donkeys there were about thirty, and perhaps there were as many, or more,
pigs, which usually have to find their own living, as also do the geese
and fowls. A great number of dogs are kept, some families keeping as many
as four. Most of these too have to find their own living, which
occasionally they do by hunting the sheep and by night raids on the geese.
The rats came from the _Henry B. Paul_ which was wrecked on Tristan in
1882. Only about half-a-dozen got ashore, which Mr. Dodgson urged the men
to kill, pointing out what trouble they would cause if not destroyed, but
the men thought a few rats wouldn't hurt, and did nothing.
CHAPTER IV
The last chapter has related some things that obviously came later to our
knowledge. I now return to the order of my diary and letters.
_Monday, April_ 9, 1906.--Betty Cotton came in early this morning to look
after our wants. She was going to get us an early cup of tea, but at my
suggestion made it breakfast. Later on Graham and I wandered on to the
common. It was such a beautiful morning, and the sea like a mill-pond. We
found many of the women washing clothes, and had a talk with several of
them. The men had gone off early in three boats to fetch some of the
luggage from where it had been landed about eight miles away. They were
not back much before noon. Most of the women went down to meet them, and
as each boat came in assisted in dragging it up. It was a most picturesque
sight to see some half-dozen carts, each drawn by a pair of bullocks,
wending their way down to the beach to fetch up the luggage which was
lying on the shore. The small carts were slowly filled, and then the oxen
were piloted up a most rough and rocky road by boys who guided them with
their whips. Betty, Ellen and I watched it all from the cliff. A good deal
of the luggage was piled in Betty's sitting-room, and the rest taken to
John Glass's house.
_Tuesday, April_ l0.--Today has been so wet and rough that it was
impossible for the men to go for any more luggage. Happily, it is covered
over with a tarpaulin from the _Surrey_, so we hope it will not get much
damaged. That which was brought yesterday got rather wet, and we have had
to unpack and dry pillows and other things. At present we are unpacking
only what is absolutely necessary, which is but little.
It has been arranged for us to live in this house. Betty is kindly giving
it up to us and is going to live in a room attached to the house opposite.
One and another family is providing for our needs. One will come with a
few eggs which are scarce now, another with apples, and a third with
butter. Then at dinner-time is brought a plate of hot meat and potatoes. A
plentiful supply of milk is provided, and we drink it at dinner. Although
there is hardly any flour on the island they are using what little there
is to make us bread.
The men have already set to to prepare the house which is to be used as
church and school. A widow, Lucy Green, has generously offered it for this
purpose, as she had done before in Mr. Dodgson's time.
_Wednesday, April_ 11.--We went up this morning to the school-house and
found men busy washing the painted ceiling. When we went again in the
afternoon all their work was done and women were washing the floor. The
Communion Table had been brought down from the loft--it needed only a
little repairing. The Communion Cloth from St. Andrews
[Footnote: Malvern Common, Great Malvern.]
fits it almost exactly and looks so well. There is a small prayer-desk and
a nice oak lectern, and we have brought from Mr. Dodgson the stone font he
used. The church will be quite ready for Good Friday services.
The next work to be undertaken will be our house. The people love to come
and see us, and we are not left much to ourselves. Repetto, who was
shipwrecked here about fifteen years ago, was a sergeant in the Italian
navy; he is an intelligent-looking man, short, with dark hair, pale face,
and a slight squint. He married a Green, one of Betty's nieces, and has
six children. Some of the men and women are fine-looking people. The
weather has prevented any more luggage being fetched.
_Thursday, April_ l2.--It has been the same today. The men have started on
the house. To make our bedroom a little larger the partition has been
moved back so as to take in a piece of the kitchen. Our cases are being
used to re-floor the bedroom and passage, which had a large hole in it. A
partition will be taken down in Ellen's room, which will then open out on
to the front door, and a curtain is to be hung across the opening. The
walls of the bedrooms are covered with illustrated papers, which here take
the place of wallpaper. Two girls have been helping to tear these off, and
the walls will be whitewashed. We brought lime and brushes from the Cape.
The doors have the most primitive and varied fastenings, and one a bit of
rope in the place of a handle. Many panes in the windows are cracked, and
one or two have departed altogether. There is a front and a back entrance.
Along the front of the house runs a path, on the other side of which, with
a wall between, is the garden. This is fairly large and is bounded by
stone walls and a hedge of flax. From its appearance it has had no
cultivation for some years. As far as I can see the only sign of any crop
besides weeds is an entangled strawberry patch. There is a good view of
the sea from the house and garden. I spent most of the morning, which was
a fine one, in a sheltered corner by the brook, where Ellen was washing a
few clothes. I had previously done a little washing too. We already feel
at home, and I am sure we shall settle down happily. We find Tristan far
more beautiful than we expected; the mountains seem very near and are most
imposing, and the light on them at times is very beautiful. Little
rivulets are to be seen coursing down close to the houses. They have been
diverted from the main stream--known as the "Big Watering." We have one
just outside the back door, and not many yards away the Big Watering
itself.
_Good Friday, April_ 13.--We got up at 6.30. Ellen and I are sleeping in
our deck-chairs in the sitting-room. Graham goes out first thing to fetch
water for our baths, as we have not enough utensils to lay in a store the
night before. Life is delightfully primitive here.
A man named John Glass is to be the church clerk, and he appeared about
eight o'clock to carry the harmonium up to the church; service was at
10.30. No one went into church until we arrived; groups of men and women
were waiting on the common in their Sunday clothes, the women looking so
picturesque in bright garments. The church room was packed. We learnt
afterwards that every man, woman and child was present except old Caroline
Swain, who is an invalid; we were seventy-four in all. We had a very
simple and short service, Graham explaining as he went along what we were
to do. Every one was most reverent and all knelt. There were four hymns,
and how they enjoyed the singing of them! It was surprising how well they
got on. The women all said, "Good-morning, marm," as they entered the
church. At first it was difficult to understand what they said, but now I
am more able to do so. On our way home we met Betty Cotton, who said,
"It's the best 'Sunday' I have had since Mr. Dodgson left." She is a dear
old body, and is making it her mission to look after us.
[Illustration: THE WATERFALL]
People have been in and out most of the day. Graham proposed to some men
who came to see him that they should take a walk up the mountain, so they
went up the Goat Ridge, which is quite near, and climbed about nine
hundred feet. Ellen and I went down to the seashore where there is a
strong smell of seaweed. The sand is black, which is owing to the volcanic
origin of Tristan. The cliffs at this spot are lovely with overhanging
green, and with a very pretty waterfall, caused by the Big Watering
finding its way over the cliff into the sea. This waterfall marks the
settlement landing-place. Rebekah Swain, aged twenty-eight, came up and
asked if it would be "insulting" if she came and sat by us. I had my
hymn-book with tunes, and so we chose the hymns for Easter Sunday. She
held the pages down as I turned them over, for the wind was blowing, and
told me what hymns the people knew. She is the daughter of Mrs. Susan
Swain, who has been teaching the children. She took us for a walk along
the shore and by a new way up the cliff. Seeing Ellen was tired, she said,
"If you will take my arm, I will take you along." She also said, "The
missus can go quick," as she saw me clambering up the cliff. She invited
us up to her mother's house, who insisted upon our having a cup of tea,
which was drunk in the presence of many spectators, for the room soon
began to fill. Mrs. Swain showed me letters which she had received from
ladies in England. She herself cannot write. When I got home I found
Graham entertaining Mr. and Mrs. Lavarello. They had come with milk and a
loaf of bread. They bake the loaf in an iron pot with a lid, on which they
light the fire. Lavarello is one of the shipwrecked Italians. Ruth Swain,
a girl of seventeen, next came in, then two little boys, and finally Mrs.
Repetto. The people have so intermarried, and there are so many of the
same name, that it is difficult to distinguish one person from another,
but we are learning to do so gradually. There is an intense eagerness
among the elders that their children shall get some "larning." The
remaining luggage has not yet come.
_Saturday, April_ l4.--It has been a wet day. The men have been very busy
in the sitting-room, so we spent most of our time in the bedroom, which is
more than half-full of cases and baggage. Repetto has just had supper with
us, and has been telling all about Captain Kerry's visit in the _Pandora_.
CHAPTER V
On Easter Sunday we had eight o'clock Communion; twelve were present. As
there are no Communion rails we knelt in front of two forms. Almost every
family has provided a form which just gives the necessary seating
accommodation. The next service was at 10:30. I am so glad we brought
prayer-books and hymn-books, as not many seem to possess them. We were
again struck with the heartiness of the singing. Graham spoke a few simple
words on the Resurrection. All the babies were brought to church, and
there was a little crying. There was one very fat child of thirteen months
that has something wrong with it, for it cannot sit up. I noticed also a
man with no forearms, but with terribly deformed fingers where the elbow
would be.
This afternoon we had baptisms; there were four children to be baptized,
and a fifth to be received into the congregation. One of the mothers, a
Mrs. Hagan, came in before the service to ask if Ellen "would come along
with her to church." Graham could not make out what she meant; it was,
would Ellen be god-mother to her baby boy. It was a large assembly that
stood round the small font. The children were young enough for Graham to
take in his arms. As the people stayed on while he wrote the particulars
in the register, I played hymns to them. When we got back at about 4:20 we
had visitors till 6:30. They are so pleased to have some one to talk to;
the men come in as much as, if not more than, the women.
I must not forget to record that we had rather a disturbed night on
Saturday. First, there was heavy rain and it came through the ceiling
close to where Ellen was sleeping; then the cat caught a rat under the
table, and Rob went for her wishing to share the spoil. This is the first
rat I have seen here, though I have heard them in the house. They are in
shoals all over the mountains, and eat the fruit in the orchards. There
have been no peaches for years, and there used to be bushels of them. The
people say it is owing to the rats. Graham has spoken seriously to the
men, and told them they should have one day a week for an onslaught. They
did try it one year, and say it made a perceptible difference in the
number.
It was decidedly cold when we first got here, making us glad to have warm
things, and in the evening we appreciated our large open hearth and wood
fire. To-day it is much warmer.
_Wednesday, April_ l8.--On Monday, though not a very good day, the men
went in two boats to fetch more luggage. Unfortunately it came on to rain
hard. In landing on the shore where it is stored they nearly lost their
boats, the surf was so heavy. We spent the morning in pasting strips of
calico along the cracks of the ceiling in our sitting-room; it was rather
a business, but Rebekah came in and helped. At present there is no getting
a rest in the middle of the day, for there is no quiet spot for it.
On Monday night we again heard the rats scampering about overhead, and
this morning early Graham was much pleased to find five in the wire trap
on the kitchen window-ledge; one eventually escaped. Through the night we
had heard the cat crunching rats close by.
Yesterday upon opening a case we found three pillows and a mattress had
got wet. If the wetting is from salt water they will have to be soaked in
fresh. The other pillows that got wet have not felt dry since, but still I
have had to lie upon them; the deck-chairs are in the same state.
We are living in such a muddle, our things being heaped up against the
wall. Presently they will have to be removed to another room while this
one is whitewashed and then back again. To find things is almost an
impossibility. By the end of the week we hope to be much straighter. All
the men have worked with a will. This morning they fetched the remaining
luggage from the shore, and this afternoon have been working hard at the
house. I went down with my camera and took photographs of the boats
unloading and of the ox-wagons which had gone to bring up the luggage. The
women came down with hot coffee and tea for the men.
Graham picked up the other day an old porthole window with the glass
unbroken, and it has been used for the house. Many of the people's
possessions are from shipwrecks. I noticed what nice white jugs they bring
our milk in; it seems a case of these was found on a wrecked ship. They
have also a good deal of glass and china from the same source.
_Friday, April_ 20.--It was such a hot day yesterday, just like summer.
The fatigue of such a day is felt all the more because there is hardly a
resting-place for the sole of one's foot. To-day has been wet. The men
have been finishing the house, and have fixed the stove in the kitchen.
Repetto and Swain have managed the piping splendidly, and out of tins have
made plates to place over the woodwork which the pipe passes through. An
old bucket has been placed round the piping near the roof as an extra
safeguard against fire. Our bedrooms have been whitewashed, and to-morrow
we hope to move our things into them. I really find a deck-chair most
comfortable; lined with pillows it does splendidly as a bed.
We like the people; they are generous and kind. Repetto is most helpful.
This afternoon he has been fixing the washing-stands. Every one is so
interested in seeing anything new; the stove especially is an object of
great interest.
_Saturday, April_ 2l.--It has been very wet. The men have now finished the
house, and we have devoted ourselves to getting things a little more
shipshape.
I gave Repetto the material A---- had sent, telling him to divide it
amongst all the families; he was very grateful. They do need clothing so
badly; some of their clothes are much patched. They all wear white
stockings. The women are very good knitters, and are nearly always to be
seen with knitting in their hands, even in their walks to and from the
potato patches. I wish they could throw as much energy into cleaning their
houses, only one or two of which are kept clean. Their shoes (moccasins)
are made of cow's hide and are most quaint. They are made of one piece,
with a seam up the front and at the heel. Little slits are cut round the
edge of the shoe and a string run in to tie on with. As there is no
leather sole their feet must always be in a wet condition in rainy
weather. It rains so much that the thickest boots are needed to keep the
feet dry. The need of these has just been brought home to us by a flood at
our back door caused by the stream overflowing. Graham has now got Bob
Green to divert it, which is a great improvement. The pathway, too, in
front of the house at one end becomes a pool after rain. The other night I
splashed right into it, and it took me days to get my house shoes dry. Tom
Rogers, however, is draining it.
[Illustration: MOCCASINS]
The house being very damp on the south side, we have to keep almost
everything in the sitting-room on the other side. Our bedrooms which are
in the middle of the house and cut off by a passage from the south side
are the two driest rooms. Graham and Repetto have been busy hauling up
cases into the loft and opening others which looked damp; happily most of
the stores are in tins. They have also been putting up the beds, which
required some fixing. Ash poles at the sides and ends are fitted into six
wooden legs, over which canvas is laced. We find them quite comfortable.
Our red blankets look very well against the whitewashed walls. We are by
no means straight yet, but well on the way to being so.
CHAPTER VI
_Sunday, April_ 22.--Wet all day. It has been difficult to keep dry-shod
going backwards and forwards to church over the wet common and across
little rivulets. We had three services: the Holy Communion at eight
o'clock, to which four came; morning prayer at 10.30, when the church was
about half full; and a children's service at three. Graham is acting on a
suggestion of the Bishop and catechizing the children instead of having
Sunday school. As the elders come too, instruction by this means is given
to both. With a view to keeping better order an elder was asked to sit on
each bench with the children. These sat with folded hands, and their
behaviour was very good; by a little encouragement answers were got out of
two or three of them. We had no harmonium, as it was too wet to bring it
up from the house.
Living as these people do in such an out-of-the-world spot, I am surprised
at the level they have reached. There is a quiet dignity about them, and
their manners are excellent. No doubt Mr. Dodgson has done much for them,
and they have a very warm remembrance of him. I never had so many "Marms"
in my life; and the other evening one little boy, on leaving the room,
wanting to say something polite, said to me, "Good-night, Mary."
_Sunday, April_ 29.--Yesterday and to-day it was blowing gales. To get to
eight o'clock Communion was not easy. A heavy shower came on as we
started. Ellen threw a cape over her head, I a Shetland shawl over my hat.
In a short space of time we were fairly wet and reached church breathless
and panting, for it was up-hill and the wind against us. John Glass, the
clerk, came to meet us to offer his help. There were seven or eight
present. Returning it was worse; the wind was at our backs, and at
different times Ellen and I were blown down like ninepins. I have since
been told by the people, "When you hear a puff coming, stand or duck till
it is over and then go on." On these windy days the dust and litter that
come from the thatch are difficult to cope with.
This afternoon we had a practice after service. There are one or two hymns
in which the islanders go quite astray; for example, "There is a green
hill" and "Christ who once amongst us." They have gone wrong, I fear, so
many years that the task of getting them to go right is almost an
impossible one. We tried a chant, but they seemed to think, as it was not
the one taught by Mr. Dodgson, it could not be right. They say he was very
musical and could sing any part. The men are anxious to sing in parts
themselves. After the service we took Rob for a run, then three of the men
turned up and did not depart till after six o'clock. We usually have three
meals a day: breakfast, dinner and supper, but on Sundays generally allow
ourselves afternoon tea.
_Monday, April_ 30.--We were so busy all the past week, and many evenings
worked till quite late trying to get straight. It has taken a longer time
because there is so little space. Our sitting-room looks quite cosy. We
have half partitioned off a portion of it with a green stoep blind which
we bought at the Cape, and in the private part thus left have laid down a
white matting, and really at night with a lamp and a fire it looks very
bright and cheerful.
During the turmoil of the week we have had the usual stream of visitors.
Early one afternoon Mrs. Hagan and another mother appeared with their
babies and stayed two hours or more. I finally went on with my work of
unpacking the storage box. At the same time they are always ready to help;
for instance, the other day, when I was doing some washing, Mrs. Lavarello
coming in, at once began upon it, and then went to help Rebekah with more
at the watering.
Our first attempt at making bread has not been a success. The loaf was as
heavy as lead, and uneatable. Rob had most of it. Not dismayed we set to
to prepare a sponge-cake for the next day. The result was good. The
following day I tried self-raising flour, and the result was even better.
The fourth trial, yesterday, was as complete a failure as the first, due
to the high wind which prevented the oven getting hot. Flour is so
precious we are eating the loaf ourselves this time, and, wonderful to
say, have not had indigestion.
It has been arranged for each family in turn to bring us weekly supplies.
Graham felt the people ought to provide a certain amount, and that
anything beyond that we could pay for. So we made out the following list.
As there are seventeen families, with one exception the same family will
only have to serve us three times in the year. They will not hear of our
paying anything.
WEEKLY SUPPLY
Meat, 12 lbs.
Fish (three times a week).
Milk, 14 quarts.
Butter, 1 1/2 lbs. (in the summer 2 lbs., fresh).
Eggs, 2 dozen (when in season).
Potatoes, 7 lbs.
Firewood.
Graham busied himself most of yesterday in making a meat-safe. He found
some old tin which he perforated and fixed on to a wooden crate.
_Tuesday, May_ 1.--Graham began school today at 9:30. There were
thirty-five scholars--eighteen boys and seventeen girls--their ages
ranging from twenty-one to three years. I went up at eleven o'clock to
teach the infants. It is difficult to get off earlier, as I have a good
deal to do in the house. We rise at 6:30 and breakfast at eight. Rob
scrambled into school, although told not to come in, and sat under the
children's form, which a little discomposed them, and made some of them
anxious about their legs. At twelve o'clock the school dispersed.
When we were leaving we heard a gun go off and saw groups of people
standing about on high positions. I was told they were shooting a wild
bullock. There did not seem much wildness about the poor black creature. I
was glad to turn my back on it all.
We have had a little peace lately as regards the rats. At one time I
feared there would not be a night without an episode. One night we were
just going off to sleep when I heard noises above. Graham was up in a
minute, thrust on his clothes, and hastened, lantern in hand, up the
ladder into the loft where he found a poor rat caught in a trap. We will
leave the rest. This sort of thing is just a little disconcerting as you
are getting off to sleep. Another night he was catching the wood-lice
creeping over our bedroom walls, and must have caught fifty. I am rather
thankful when he is too tired for these raids. The houses are also
infested with fleas.
Ellen and I have both had presents of white stockings which we are
wearing, and find most warm and comfortable. They look so old-fashioned,
but I intend to wear them.
The bread to-day which I had made was burnt almost to a cinder. We still
have long visitations from the people, who generally come from five to
6.30; supper in consequence has often to wait. It is wonderful how much
there is to do in a small house like this.
[Illustration: THE CEMETERY]
This afternoon we visited the little cemetery. It is surrounded by
rough-hewn blocks of stone. These once formed the walls of a church which
Mr. Dodgson induced the men to start building, but they took such a long
time over it, he felt it would never be finished, and so told them they
could use the stones as a wall for the cemetery. Here and there are little
wooden crosses, and such quaintly written inscriptions, the letters being
picked out in tin nailed to the cross or stone. The tombstone of William
Glass is the most imposing. It is of marble, and was sent by his sons in
America.
We are not nearly straight yet; the difficulty is where to put everything.
There is one small cupboard in the sitting-room, but only bottles can be
kept in it as it is so damp. I keep some of the stores in my old
school-box in the ante-room.
Graham has been writing for the people to the King, to thank him for the
message which he sent them through Lord Crawford.
_Monday, May_ 7.--We do all our writing in the evening. Since we have been
here three ships have been sighted. One was four-masted and came in quite
close. It was a misty day with a rough sea. This last week the weather has
been delightful, sunshine day after day with very little wind.
[Illustration: HILL TOP. INACCESSIBLE IN THE DISTANCE]
Last evening after church we went for a walk accompanied by the two
bachelors of the island, Tom Rogers and Bill Green. We went westward over
a rocky common to get a view of Inaccessible. We could see it most
clearly. It was my first view of it. It did not look far off, but is in
reality about twenty-five miles away. There was a most beautiful sunset,
the sea being quite lit up.
CHAPTER VII
We are settling down to our daily routine. I go up to school each day at
10.30 now and take Class II in writing for half-an-hour before the
infants. I have had to drop "pen pointing to the shoulder." Some of the
children are very attractive.
Not counting our household of three, there are now seventy-two people on
the island--thirteen men, the eldest being forty-nine; twenty women, the
eldest about eighty; and thirty-nine children. There are four families of
Swains, not including old Caroline Swain, the invalid; three of Greens,
not including the bachelor Bill Green; and two of Rogers. Mrs. Sam Swain,
sister of Tom Rogers, has five daughters whose ages run from twenty-one to
nine years. She lost a girl of twelve about two years ago from asthma. The
Repettos are nice children and very intelligent. A boy of fifteen, William
Rogers, who is very staid, comes every morning to fetch water and chop
wood. He is so anxious to learn. Sometimes he has to go to work, but he
comes to school whenever he can. He has most curious sight: in the daytime
he can see all right, but at night, even in a lighted room, is not able to
see a thing that is handed to him; he says he is "night blind." This
afternoon we invited Betty Cotton, of whom we have not seen much lately,
in to tea. I think it gave her great satisfaction. She has been in need of
spectacles, and I was able to suit her with a pair.
Rob got into disgrace a few days ago. When out with Ellen he suddenly
rushed off up the mountainside and chased a sheep to the cliff. It was so
frightened it jumped down about thirty or forty feet and fell on its side
panting and bleeding. Happily, it was not seriously hurt. The owner,
Andrew Hagan, has not made much of the occurrence. I am glad to say he at
once rode off on his donkey in search of it. Graham went too, and not
finding the sheep, took Rob to some others and gave him a thorough
whipping. We carry a whip when we take him out now. What he loves is a run
on the sea-shore where he can scamper about after sea-birds. We like a sea
blow too, and there is not such a feeling of loneliness on the shore here
as there is at many seaside places.
_Wednesday, May_ 9.--Today has been rather an eventful one. Rain began to
fall early, was still falling when Graham went off to school, and before
long began to come down in a deluge. At first Ellen and I were kept fully
occupied getting basins and pans, as the rain was coming through the roof
and ceilings in all directions; in several places in the sitting-room, in
the bedrooms, and in the kitchen where it was pouring down the walls. We
hardly had breathing time before a fresh place was discovered. Then I
heard Ellen call me to come and look. She was gazing out of the passage
window at the brook which had now become a torrent. It was sweeping past
the house, and spread out like a flood up to the very walls. Streams were
flowing down the mountain; it was a scene of water. I heard a distant
sound like thunder, which afterwards we learnt was a body of water that
had descended from the mountain and cut a gully of--I do not know now many
feet deep and broad; carrying away the bullock road across Hottentot Gulch
and two poor sheep. About noon the rain abated. Bob Green, a near
neighbour, very kindly came in while it was still pouring to reassure us.
But Ellen and I were not at all alarmed; we just thought it was an
ordinary event. It seems, however, the people cannot remember another such
deluge. In the afternoon the sun came out and Graham and I, escorted by
William and Johnny Green went to look at the deep channel the rush of
water had made. We met several mothers who had been to the spot. The chasm
will have to be filled up and a new road made. Repetto and Andrew Swain
have been in for a chat this evening. The former said when he looked down
upon this cottage it appeared to be standing in a pond.
I am getting to know the children now. Some of them in appearance might be
little English boys and girls. Charlie Green, a brown boy of about four
years, is quite a character, but almost impossible to teach; he guesses at
everything. If you ask him what letter you are pointing to, he gazes in
your face and guesses, and if you tell him he must look at the letter and
not guess, he does the same again, and will interrupt others to guess
wrong; his cheeks all the time are dimpled with laughter and his eyes
dancing with merriment. To see him do his physical exercises, especially
arms to the shoulder, when he pushes out his round little chest, is too
comical.
By the second Sunday the bell given by the congregation of St. Andrews was
up. It has been hung in the loft of the church. It rings for church and
school and has a very good tone.
_Sunday, May_ l3.--The 10.30 and three o'clock services are attended by
nearly every one. Graham reads and speaks very slowly so that the people
may take in what is said. This morning he spoke on the verse beginning "He
that believeth on the Son hath everlasting life." We find the people much
more intelligent than we expected.
We had Sunday visitors as usual, namely, John Glass, his wife, and Bob
Green. They stayed on and on and it was getting towards seven o'clock. Bob
was the first to leave, but soon came back and called Glass, saying
something about a fire. We went out and saw such a blaze close at hand.
Lavarello's lamb-house, which is a long, low, thatched hut, was on fire. A
strong south-west wind was blowing, and sparks were flying in countless
numbers. A few fell round this house, but the house in real danger was
John Glass's, which is next to ours. The sparks were raining on the
thatch, and in the glare we could see figures running about and emptying
buckets of water on the roof. Graham went off to help. The fire burnt
furiously for a time, and I could feel the heat of it as I was standing at
our back door. Before very long it began to go down, though sparks were
still flying about. Happily, Lavarello had been able to get his sheep out
in time. It will be rather a loss for him as wood is not easy to get. The
fire is thought to have originated by Henry Green losing his cap in the
wind, and getting a fire-brand to look for it, a spark from which must
have been blown on to the tussock roof.
It is curious how, whenever a ship is boarded, colds go the round of the
settlement. We were talking to Repetto about this, and he told us he did
not at first believe it, but has seen it proved again and again. The usual
thing has happened after the visit of the Surrey, and many are now laid up
with colds. The other day John Glass asked for some brandy for his wife,
who was one of the first to succumb. We knew it would not do to begin
giving brandy for such an ailment, yet felt we must prescribe something.
By a bright inspiration Graham suggested a teaspoonful of glycerine in hot
milk, to be taken at bedtime. This proved most efficacious, and is so
appreciated now that the applicants are many. Rebekah Swain told me today
that after taking it she had never coughed again! Half a good-sized bottle
has already gone. One day Repetto came for a remedy for his rheumatism,
brought on by exposure to cold and wet. I went to the medicine chest to
see what it could produce, and found the very medicine for his case. A day
or two later, inquiring after him, I heard he was very poorly, and began
to wonder if the tabloids were answerable for this. However, the next day
he was much better, and told me they had eased the pain at once.
_Thursday, May_ l7.--Every one is looking out expectantly for a ship, and
many letters are waiting to be dispatched by it. About thirty were
entrusted to us by people on the _Surrey_, who wished to have them sent
off from her as a matter of interest. I have printed "Tristan da Cunha" on
the envelopes. Every one places great hope in a man-of-war coming in
December.
The people are now living on meat and potatoes, varied with fish. They
have no flour, and I should say are oftener without it than with it. They
get so tired of the same food. Crawfish, which answer to our lobsters,
seem to be plentiful and are quite a treat. Rebekah the other evening
caught about a bushel, and says she has caught as many as five bushels at
a time.
We are touched by the way in which the people give us of their little.
Mrs. Sam Swain brought us som carbonate of soda--called here "salaradus"--
for making bread, as we had failed in a yeast we had tried. Another Mrs.
Swain brought us some more, and on my saying we did not like to take it,
her mother, Mrs. Rogers, said, "We are pleased to do all we can for you."
The people are so gratified at having their children taught. A Mrs. Hagan
began bringing us tea and milk each day in the school interval. We thanked
her, but would not let her go on doing it.
It is amusing to watch the boys bringing their cows home to be milked;
often they hang on to their tails. The cow sometimes has a contrary fit
and will run in the wrong direction; the boy hangs on till the cow thinks
better of it and turns in the right direction. The cows are small and very
thin. In the winter many die for want of food, and this winter, I fear,
there will be a great scarcity of grass as the late flood brought down a
great deal of mud on the west side of the island. The people grow nothing
to feed their cattle with in the winter. Their sheep do very well as they
can climb to higher pastures. Ben Swain, the man with deformed arms, does
chiefly shepherd's work. He is a son of Susan Swain the school-mistress.
Although about thirty-five years old, on wet days he intends coming to
school, and started yesterday. He was taught by Mr. Dodgson to write,
which he does kneeling down and holding the pen in both hands. His sister,
Rebekah, also comes occasionally. I now take Classes I and II in writing;
it is really hard work as I have to be constantly looking at each Pupil. I
should like to visit the people, but have not been able to do much in that
way yet.
_Monday, May_ 2l.--We have had such a lovely day, just like summer; it is
hard to believe winter is approaching.
Before school we were busy doing laundry work. The children are getting on
so well with their lessons. On Sunday Graham catechizes them on the
Scripture they have been taught in the week, and their answers are
excellent. I am getting quite fond of the infants. Charlie is very
fascinating; he has such a dark little face, straight black hair, large
brown eyes and such a comical expression. After some weeks of teaching he
has at last learnt A, but is quite ready to call it B. I have made up my
mind to devote my energies to the older infants. The parents are so
anxious their children should get on, and already Graham has been sent two
canes by two mothers, who were anxious they should be used. The people
often relate how Mr. Dodgson used the cane upon boys and girls.
This afternoon Graham and I went down to the shore and watched with much
interest Bob Green and his wife fishing from the rocks. Sophy Rogers and
Charlie, who was caressing the dog, were with them. Bob was catching
crawfish with a line without any hook, just a piece of meat tied on at the
end with a stone to weight it. He generally caught two at a time, and had
by the end a sack full. Ellen had been fishing with Mary Repetto, and they
caught eight.
CHAPTER VIII
There was such a happy scene here a few days ago. Graham was paving the
pathway in front of the house with big flat stones and had a bevy of
little boys helping. I much delighted them by giving each one an acorn to
plant. Next day I asked Charlie what he done with his. He replied, "It's
in a pawt."
_Wednesday, May_ 23.--This afternoon I have been very busy planting. The
boys came early, and Graham went down with them to the beach to get a load
of stones for paving. To the delight of the boys, the bottom of the "bus"
came out in crossing the stream, and all the stones fell into the water. I
saw the little boys hurrying up to the house, each carrying a wet stone.
"Bus" is the island word for "wheelbarrow." While the paving was going on,
I thought with William's assistance I would plant ferns in the wall.
Hearing roots were wanted the children began bringing all sorts. Before
school some nasturtiums were brought, then Sophy came with a large pink
geranium. There is a little berry (the crowberry) they eat here which I
think rather nasty; roots of this were brought, and also some sweetbriar
and wild geranium which has a very sweet smell. What especially pleased me
was a plant much resembling the blackberry. Gifts so poured in, it was
really difficult to know where to plant them all. Yesterday we put in some
strawberry plants.
I have been trying plaiting the leaves of the flax plant, which grows
luxuriantly here, and making a mat of them. I sewed the plaits together
with strips from the leaf. I am going to use the mat in church for the
boards are very hard to kneel upon. It is green and looks very artistic. I
contemplate making mats for the house, and with assistance might do enough
for the church. One or two old folk still have the kneelers given them by
Mr. Dodgson,
_Ascension Day, May_ 24.--A most lovely day and very hot. We had a short
school and then at eleven o'clock the children were all marched to
Repetto's house where there is a flagstaff. The flag had been run up, it
being Empire Day, and, marshalling us beneath it, Graham taught boys and
girls how to "hurrah." He was in his element. Afterwards he gave the boys
a lesson in skipping, and quite surprised me by his agility. One or two
tried and much enjoyed it, but the rest were too shy. Later on William
came to ask for another rope, and looking out of the passage window I saw
a group of boys watching big Ben the crippled man who was skipping with
intense enjoyment, and leaping about two feet into the air.
[Illustration: THE FLAGSTAFF]
At three o'clock we had service. Some fifty were present. Most of the men
were at work. Glass, for one, had been for wood and had had to swim round
the Bluff. He brought back some eaglet eggs, and sent us three which we
had for supper. They are about as big as a duck's egg, white in colour,
and of a slightly fishy taste. The fowls are not laying now. The weekly
supply arrangement is working well. I think eventually we may have a cow.
_Saturday, May_ 26.--We are only about fifty minutes behind Greenwich
time.
_Monday, May_ 28.--There was such a lovely sunset this evening; the sea
was the colour of indigo, in striking contrast to the sunlit sky.
_Tuesday, May_ 29.--As we were sitting down to breakfast we heard a ship
was in sight, but to our disappointment were almost immediately told that
it was too far east to catch. Another, a large four-masted one, was
sighted in the afternoon; but we were again disappointed, for it was too
breezy to put out to her.
_Whit Monday, June_ 4.--A change has set in; it was quite cold this
morning. I started laundry work directly after breakfast, and had all the
things out on the line in good time, but could not get up to school till
eleven o'clock.
It is curious what a difficulty even some of the bigger children have in
doing the simplest addition. To add one on to three is at times an
impossible task. But if you say three cows are in the yard and one more
comes in, how many are there then? their brain begins to clear.
I had quite an alarm this afternoon. Old Mrs. Rogers came in to say Graham
was up in a "tight" place on the mountain, and that the men had gone to
rescue him. Accompanied by her and Mrs. Repetto, Ellen and I set forth
towards Big Beach; others followed, and some stayed on the cliff to watch.
Glass. Ben, and Will Rogers had gone to warn Graham. Before long we could
see him returning with them. He had not got into any difficulty, but the
men had thought it was not a safe part to go to alone. We had intended
going that way to-morrow for a Whitsuntide holiday, but the men think it
unwise, so we are going in the opposite direction towards the potato
patches which we have not yet seen. An opinion expressed at Cape Town of
the people by one who had lately visited them does not at all coincide
with our experience. They were described as "a ruffianly-looking lot," and
the speaker was sure "there was one man at least who had had his knife
into some one."
_Thursday, June_ 7.--After all we did not get the Whitsuntide holiday, for
I was too busy. Ellen was in bed all yesterday with a bad headache and was
lying down most of the day before. So I have had the housework and cooking
to do. Graham helped before breakfast by cleaning the kitchen stove, and
afterwards by washing up after meals and undertaking the saucepans! I only
missed school one day. The elder infants are getting on nicely; the
parents of some are teaching them at home, and they are beginning now to
read small words. Most of the girls bring their knitting, and during the
interval sit on stones under the low wall and knit away till the bell
rings for them to go in again. I used to take mine, but devote the time
now to ruling slates. I am teaching Rebekah to write. Her writing is so
impossible I have had to start her with letters on the slate, and she very
sensibly does not resent this. To-day many visitors have been to inquire
after Ellen; they certainly are kind-hearted.
William, our factotum, is a thoughtful and kind boy. If anything is given
to him he shares it with his half-brothers. He comes three or four times
a day to ask if he can do anything, and generally when we are having a
mid-day rest! In the morning if he hears Graham has gone off to school he
is after him like a shot.
The people are extracting salt from the sea-water. They take large barrels
in ox-wagons to the shore to be filled, then they boil the water for
twenty-four hours, in fact till it is all boiled away. They use this salt,
when they have no other, for their butter, which it does not at all
improve; but the butter brought to us is generally unsalted. They never
make salt unless driven to it because the process involves the burning of
so much wood. They also make a black-looking soap, but very rarely, as it
takes days and nights to make, and requires not only much wood, but also a
good deal of fat which they can ill spare.
We have had many requests for envelopes, and today were asked for
paraffin, and also for flour for a sick baby. So far we have found the
people more ready to give than to ask. Another pair of stockings was
presented today, an offering from Mrs. Glass on her seventieth birthday.
The only word used for "afraid" is "skeered," and today when I asked the
infants why Adam and Eve hid themselves among the trees in the garden, one
answered, "Because they were skeered."
Repetto is a pupil of Graham's, and comes every Friday evening to read
English. He finds the pronunciation rather a difficulty. He has quite a
library, from which he has selected as a suitable book to lend to Graham,
William Penn's _Fruits of Solitude in Reflections and Maxims_. He is
making a cover for the harmonium out of two calf skins so that in wet
weather it can be taken to church.
_Sunday, June_ l0.--It was so windy today that Ellen and I went to church
wearing white silk handkerchiefs instead of hats. I felt a little shy at
being thus equipped, but soon got over it.
Wednesday, June_ l3.--We have begun a weekly _singing practice for the
school children; and as it is not always possible to take up the harmonium
we do without it, depending on a tuning-fork which was given to Ellen at
St. Helena. With some labour we have taught them a "Gloria" and a
"Venite." On the whole they are quick in learning a tune, but it must
first be sung to them. At to-day's practice two mothers appeared upon the
scene to see what we were doing. Some of the boys did not turn up, and I
heard afterwards that two parents had given their sons a "tanning," as
they expressed it, for not coming; and that this was so effectually
administered that one of the truants hid under a cart to conceal his
feelings.
CHAPTER IX
_Wednesday, June_ 13 (_continued_).--On Monday we went for an expedition
to the top of Burntwood. Burntwood is a grass-covered mountain slope at
the other end of the settlement, and is the easiest ascent to the Base. By
"the Base" the islanders mean the top of the cliffs which gird the island,
and which rise one thousand to two thousand feet. William appeared early
in the morning to say he had collected several donkeys and could get
saddles for them. At nine o'clock we started forth, Graham, Ellen, William
and I riding, Charlotte and Rebekah walking. It was decidedly difficult to
keep one's balance on a man's saddle. The reins--or rather what took the
place of them--consisted of a rope tied round the donkey's neck. We had a
ride of five miles over a rocky common and down some very steep pitches.
Graham gave us all much amusement. His donkey stumbled twice in
succession, and he went right over its head. At the bottom of the hill we
tethered the donkeys, and at once began the ascent. The distance up was
said to be two miles, which took us about two hours to climb. The first
part was over grassy mounds, but the latter portion involved a real
scramble. We had to stoop to get under trees, and to push through thick
brushwood, while in places it was so steep we had to get on our knees and
be pulled up. To make matters worse the ground was very soppy. We arrived
at the top somewhat exhausted. Graham spread his mackintosh and I lay down
on it thankful to rest. There was thick brushwood of phylica, of fern and
crowberry all round, and, tired as we were, I felt we could not make our
way through this. Graham and William went in search of water and soon
procured some. We had for luncheon captain's biscuits and chocolate, eaten
under a scorching sun. We had a beautiful view, and could see Nightingale
and Inaccessible quite clearly, the former island looking much the more
rugged. We stayed up about two hours. Graham and William went off in
search of eaglet eggs. They only secured one. The poor hen which they
caught was given its freedom, but unfortunately the dogs got hold of it.
Coming down was easy enough at first, but there came a time when I felt I
could do no more; the power seemed to have gone out of my legs, and
really, without help I do not know how I should have got down. At the
bottom of the hill we saw a cheerful fire burning. Charlotte had got down
first and was brewing tea. She and Rebekah had on their own initiative
brought a saucepan, tea and milk. We started home about 4.30 when it was
already getting dusk. Before long it was quite dark, but the donkeys knew
their way. It took us about two hours to get to the settlement. Two or
three men came out to meet us, and nearer home at Hottentot Gulch we were
met by quite a party who were carrying a lantern--Mrs. Swain and Mrs.
Rogers brought us some tea, which we drank sitting on our donkeys. I found
riding sideways on a man's saddle rather tiring, and I think we were all
glad to get home. Mrs. Bob Green also most kindly sent us in a brew of
tea. There were many inquiries as to how we had enjoyed the expedition, to
which we could honestly say very much, though for the next day or two we
felt very stiff.
_Thursday, June_ l4.--We are having a spell of cold weather. There is snow
on the mountains, and a good deal of hail has fallen. It is difficult to
keep warm at night.
_Friday, June_ l5.--A beautiful day, but a cold wind. We sat up late last
night over the fire warming our feet.
_Monday, June_ l8.--We shall be very glad when we get our letters off, for
we know how anxious our people must be to hear. A ship was sighted
yesterday far to the east. Graham said he thought he saw one when coming
from early Communion, but I could see nothing.
Yesterday (Sunday) it was so dark at the end of afternoon service that we
could not have the practice, so it has been settled to have service at two
o'clock, an hour which seems to suit the people better. The singing is
improving. We managed the "Venite" very well, and now mean to try the "Te
Deum." I intend to teach them a chant with three changes in it. In the end
perhaps we shall sing the Psalms. Yesterday the children sang with much
vigour "There's a Friend for little children." One little girl whose voice
could be heard above all the rest had a "strapping" from her father when
she got home for singing too loud, poor little thing!
To-day the men put up a washing-stone at the east end of the house. Each
house has one near the water. The clothes to be washed are soaped, rubbed
and slashed on it. The women often come and help Ellen to wash, and to-day
Rebekah carried off some things for her mother to iron. I do my own things
myself outside the front door. Graham has been busy to-day whitewashing
the kitchen, and looked so comical in one of Ellen's aprons and with a
handkerchief tied over his head.
Mrs. Martha Green, Betty's sister, came to see us this afternoon. Poor
woman, she has never recovered from the shock of the boat accident. She
then lost her husband, two sons, two brothers, and, I believe, two
brothers-in-law. She presented me with a pair of stockings, the fourth
pair I have had given me, and Graham with a pair of socks, and said we
were to tell her when we were in want of more. She lives with her married
son Henry Green, and is the mother of Mrs. Repetto.
We fear a great part of our garden will be useless, as there is so much
white mould in it which rots the roots of the plants. The only way to get
rid of this mould which spreads very quickly is to burn it or cart it
away, so the people say.
_Tuesday, June_ 19.--Rebekah came in on Sunday for some glycerine for her
mother who suffers from asthma, or, as the people would say, "ashmere."
Her mother has taken it two nights running, and found it gave her much
relief. It will now be believed in more than ever.
_Friday, June_ 22.--On Wednesday night Glass came in to ask Graham if he
would go round the island with him and Tom Rogers. Graham was a little
doubtful at first on account of the school, but I promised to take it and
so he settled to go. They started off when it was only just light at six
o'clock on Thursday morning on three donkeys.
[Illustration: GOING WEST]
Ellen came up to help me with the school, and I managed all right. We had
an early lunch and spent the afternoon in needlework on the sea-shore. We
had planned a cosy evening, but at about six o'clock Mrs. Glass and
Rebekah with Mabel Hagan and Florence appeared. They said something about
spending the evening with us and stayed two hours much enjoying
themselves. Early this afternoon Mary Repetto came in with some wood and
told me the party were returning. I ran out to find Graham unsaddling his
donkey. He had had a fall over its head, but was none the worse. The
donkey, it seems, took a deep step as its rider was gazing at the scenery.
Graham looked tired, but said he had had a most enjoyable time. They rode
to just below Burntwood, where we were the other day; there they tethered
their donkeys and ascended the mountain to get past a bluff, and then
descended to the shore, along which they had a walk of about three miles
over boulders and stones. The two men made nothing of this walk, but
Graham says it was hard work for one unaccustomed to it, because it not
only bruised the feet but every step had to be chosen. They spent the
night in a cave on the beach, where they made a large fire and kept it up
all night. There were five dogs. Rob insisted on sleeping by Graham's
head, and occasionally put his long nose across his face. Graham had a
plank covered with tussock grass for a pillow and did not get much sleep.
In the middle of the night Rob rose up and went for another dog, and a
great fight ensued. The men had to get up, and with difficulty the dogs
were parted. Graham went for an early swim while the men cooked the
breakfast, which consisted of poached eaglet eggs and tea boiled in a
frying-pan. In drying a new pair of socks at the camp fire he almost
destroyed one by burning big holes in it. Rob enjoyed himself amazingly,
and learnt to hunt eaglets which nest in holes, but he had to be
restrained, as he would have killed the birds.
_Tuesday, June_ 26.--We have been having a spell of rain. Sunday was too
wet to take the harmonium up to church, consequently we had to start the
chants and hymns without an instrument. We got on all right until the last
hymn, at which we had three tries, then in desperation I made a stupendous
effort, and we pulled through. We had to have dinner at half-past twelve
to be ready for service at two o'clock. I was deep in slumber when at five
minutes to the hour Graham ran in to call me. It was a scramble, and I got
to church feeling half awake. The children answer so well, better than
children do at home; but then, of course, Graham knows exactly their
capabilities and catechizes on what he has been teaching in the week. The
people like learning new tunes, and sing them better than the old ones,
which they are apt to drawl. To keep up to the mark involves a fair amount
of practising at home, especially when you have no harmonium; you must
have the tunes and chants at your finger ends. For once we had the
afternoon and evening to ourselves, and sat over the fire in the dusk
talking over happy memories.
Monday was wet again. Just as we were sitting down to one o'clock dinner
Mrs. Hagan came in with her baby, saying she thought it was two o'clock.
She stayed on till after three, having been joined by her daughter.
Finally we left them to themselves, as I had yeast to make and Graham's
hair to cut. When I came back she had departed.
It rained in torrents last night and all to-day. School was impossible.
With a free day before us we felt like children, and were settling down
when William appeared with his reading-book. "Would Mr. Barrow 'larn'
him"; so Graham buckled to for over an hour. It is nice to see a young
fellow so anxious to learn. Later on he came in with his hand bound up. He
had cut it with a hatchet, happily not badly, and wanted me to dress it,
his mother having already put a cobweb on.
When Bob Green (William's step-father) came in with the milk he told us he
had seen a dead cow in the gulch. I fear it has died from wet and
exposure. I cannot bear to think of the poor beasts suffering so. One
winter more than a hundred were lost simply because there was not enough
food for them. They climb up the mountains in search of grass, and often
from weakness fall and are killed.
CHAPTER X
_Tuesday, June_ 26 (_continued_).--At the request of the Custom House
authorities at Cape Town we brought on from there some stores which had
been sent by a French firm to the Tristanites in return for kindness shown
by them to one of the firm's ships which had been on fire off Tristan. In
the reply of the people to the kind inquiry what stores would be most
useful to them the item "soap" was read as "soup," with the result that
four cases of tins of soup were received and no soap, much to their
disappointment, for soap is more prized than anything. We have lately made
the acquaintance of some of these soups, which the people do not care for,
as they have plenty of meat. Mrs. Bob Green sent us two tins of ox-tail,
for which we gave her a brush and comb, although she said she didn't want
anything. A few days later William appeared with a further supply, so
to-day we gave him two tins of jams to take to his mother. He persistently
said, "She don't want anything," but as we insisted, he finally went off
with them.
To-day the room has been rather like an Irish cabin, rain dropping through
the ceiling, puffs of smoke coming down the chimney, and wind blowing
through every crevice. At the fire on this hearth all the day's cooking
has had to be done. All the same we have been very cheerful and have
enjoyed a quiet day with few interruptions. I have been able to get
through some work, and have been busy making a cover for the Communion
cloth out of the material E---- gave us; with bands of white sateen and a
white cross in the centre it looks quite nice. Two little canaries I
brought from the Cape have had to be put by the fireside to be kept warm.
_Wednesday, June_ 27.--This morning to my dismay I found the rain had come
down the chimney on to the bowl of yeast which Ellen and I had prepared
with some labour, and had spoilt it.
Repetto came in this evening with the cover for the harmonium. It is a
clever piece of work. He turns his hand to almost anything, and can even
make his own suits. Tonight he was decidedly droll, and in his broken
language gave us a description of a certain wedding. There was only one
person, a woman, who was able to read the marriage service, and she would
not, as she did not approve of the marriage. It ended in the bride's
brother officiating, and, as he is no scholar, he had to spell out the
words as he went along. How we laughed!
_Thursday, June_ 28.--On Tuesday from half-past eight to midnight the rain
gauge measured four inches of rain. We hear about twenty-four cattle have
died. The cold wind and rain were fatal to them. The poor things could get
no place of shelter. Graham wants the men to build some sort of shelter
for the cattle, and those to whom he has spoken about it say it would be
an excellent plan.
This morning we heard a cheerful clucking of fowls outside our bedroom
window, and on looking out saw that the wind had blown the meat-safe over
and emptied its contents on the path. The fowls were having a fine feast
off the suet. Graham was just in time to save the half leg of mutton. We
live on mutton week by week. Very occasionally a bullock is killed. Last
week three families sent us beef.
_Friday, June_ 29.--We shall feel relieved when we get our letters off,
but at this time of year few ships are to be seen.
Mrs. Repetto came in pouring rain for some of the much-famed glycerine for
her baby who is ill. I gave her also camphorated oil to rub on its chest.
_Wednesday, July_ 4.--Bill Rogers brought us some vine cuttings which we
planted and with great care nailed against the front of the house. The
next morning one had been pulled up, probably by a pig. We suffer much
from the animals. Fowls are always roaming round, and snap up every bit of
green. Many of the ferns which we planted have been rooted up. A gate is
to be put at each end of the path which will keep those intruders, at
least the four-footed ones, from the front of the house.
Yesterday I started a women's meeting to which all over twenty years of
age were invited. Twelve came. I read some of the Gordon League Ballads to
them, and could see by their faces how much they enjoyed them. We had
three hymns, and I spoke to them for about ten minutes, ending with
prayer. I have given up the idea of teaching them reading and writing. I
do not think they are keen about it, and life is full without it.
I was amused the other day by hearing that William calls me "The old
missus."
Rob is quite an addition to our home. He is such an affectionate dog and
very intelligent. In the morning when Ellen opens the front door to let
him out, he will not go until he has first come in to say good-morning to
us, then he goes out cheerfully. On no account would he miss going to
school with me, and always expects to carry my basket. He has been less
troublesome about running the sheep, although yesterday he ran at a sheep
with a lamb. The sheep bolted, and when I whistled Rob he came bounding
towards us with the lambling running by his side. The lamb was only three
days old, and we had to carry it home, the mother having altogether
disappeared. At first we had some difficulty in supplying Rob with enough
food; but now he has taken the matter into his own hands and goes round to
the different houses and gets a liberal supply of meat and bones. He
always pays the Glasses an early visit, sometimes before they are up.
To-day Ellen and I gathered wood on the sea-shore and got such a quantity
we did not know how to carry it home; happily Alfred Green was coming our
way and "backed" it for us.
_Tuesday, July_ 10.--An eventful day--the one we have been looking for.
When I was resting after lunch there came a quick tap at the back door,
and William hurried in to say a ship was in sight. We all rushed out, and
getting on to higher ground saw her sails. We could also see our men
running home from their work. We stood at Bill Rogers' gate where others
had collected. They soon scattered to get ready to put off, though the
wind was high and the sea rough. Children were sent out to catch the
animals for barter. We came back to get our letters ready; among them were
orders for groceries to the Army and Navy stores and to Messrs.
Cartwright's at Cape Town. Mrs. Swain, junior, came in for our letters and
told us only four men were going, her husband, Tom and Bill Rogers and
Henry Green. We went down with her to the shore and met Ben who had come
to fetch our letters as the boat was ready to start. We saw them hoist
their sail and watched on with Mrs. Martha Green, Betty and Repetto until
it began to grow dusk. Mrs. Bob Green had tea with us, and a little later
Repetto came in anxious to have a talk. He and Graham stood at the front
door trying in vain to make out the ship. Soon others came in to ask for
oil and candle for their lanterns, so that they might be ready to meet the
returning boat. At about six o'clock we turned out and made for the fire
which had been lighted on the cliff. We had some difficulty in crossing
the stream as we had no lantern. Looking after the fire was Rebekah, and
later there came Mrs. Green, Alfred, Bob Green and the two other wives.
The wind was blowing cold, and we were glad to sit near the blaze. You can
picture the scene; pitchy darkness all round except where now and again
gleams of light fell on the sounding sea below and made dimly visible the
white line of surf. After staying some time, as there was no sign of the
boat, we and the women went home.
It is now nine o'clock and still no sign of the men.
_Wednesday, July_ 11.--As we were getting up news came that the boat was
returning. We went down to the beach and found every one there and the
boat just coming in. It had reached the vessel, which was bound for
Australia. Henry Green went on board, and the captain, who seemed a very
kind man, was able to let them have a barrel of flour, biscuits, and other
things, and would have spared more had there been time. Henry was only
about fifteen minutes on board. Our men made for Sandy Point, as the
landing was easier, and spent the night there. We are so thankful to have
got our letters off at last, and think they will reach home about the end
of September. [Footnote: They reached home early in October.]
The captain sent papers for the clergyman, which Graham was delighted to
have, and from which we learnt of the terrible eruption of Mount Vesuvius
and of the great fire at San Francisco. Among the papers was one from St.
Helena. As regards the stores obtained, only those who went out to the
ship and the widows will share in them. The rule is a man must go himself,
unless ill or absent, to have a share in anything obtained in the name of
the community. Sheep, geese, fowls, eggs and potatoes are the things
bartered. It has been very difficult to settle down to-day, and there was
only a short school. I did not go up to it, as I got my boots wet when the
boat landed. A wave swept in while I was trying to stop a quarrel amongst
the dogs. To get the salt water out of the leather my boots were put,
after island fashion, into the brook for a time and then hung upside down
on the garden gate to drain and dry.
_Thursday, July_ l2.--We had our choir practice as usual and took up the
harmonium, as we find with chants we cannot well do without it. The
children sang scales.
I try a little cooking now and again, and have made some fairly successful
potato scones. Ellen made some good bread this week with yeast. I claim a
little of the glory of it, as I did most of the kneading! We find we are
doing at present on one pound of flour a day for all purposes, but it has
to be used very sparingly. We now generally use our stove every other day,
as, though small, it consumes a good deal of wood which the people have to
go so far to get.
Graham has been busy plastering the holes in the walls of the house, first
filling them in with stone wedges. We have sent to Cape Town for lead for
the roof. It is only when it is raining very hard that the rain comes
through. The south wall in the sitting-room, passage and kitchen is a rich
green colour from the damp. The people say this winter has been the
wettest they have known for a long time.
_Friday, July_ l3.--We had our first sewing-class this afternoon. Thirteen
girls came. Nearly all produced thimbles, and their sewing was very much
better than I expected. Ellen superintended the little ones, while I read
aloud a book lent by Mrs. Susan Swain. We sat on forms near the door to
get as much air as possible.
_Saturday, July_ l4.--Graham was busy to-day whitewashing the front of the
house; it was not easy work, as the stone is so rough. John Baptist
Lavarello, a boy of twelve, and about the most intelligent lad here,
helped him.
CHAPTER XI
I have drawn up a list of the people, starting from the house furthest
east. The figures after the names denote the age.
1.
Mrs. Martha Green (widow).
Mr. and Mrs. Henry Green.
Alfred, 17.
Ethel, 15.
Maria, 11.
Johnny, 9.
Christopher, 1.
2.
Mr. and Mrs. Sam Swain, senior.
Charlotte, 21.
Lily, 19.
Ruth, 17.
Selina, 9.
Maggie, 7.
Bill Green (lodger).
3.
Mr. and Mrs. Repetto.
Mary, 11.
Martha, 9.
Susan, 7.
Arthur, 6.
Willie, 4.
Joe, 1.
4.
Mrs. Rogers (widow).
Tom.
Mr. and Mrs. Sam Swain, junior.
Harry, 7.
Edith, 5.
Tommy, 3.
Eliza, 9 months.
5.
Mr. and Mrs. Andrew Swain.
Fred, 12.
James, 9.
George, 8.
Rose, 5.
Clara, 3.
6.
Mr. and Mrs. William Rogers.
Arthur, 6.
Lizzie, 4.
Jack, 10 months.
7.
Mrs. Lucy Green (widow).
8.
Mr. and Mrs. Bob Green.
William Rogers, 15.
Sophia Rogers, 11.
Edward, 5.
Charlie, 4.
9.
Miss Cotton.
10.
Mr. and Mrs. John Glass.
Florence Swain, 3.
11.
Mrs. Mary Glass (widow).
Miss Caroline Swain.
Mr. and Mrs. Lavarello.
John Baptist, 10.
Robert, 8.
Willie, 6.
Percy, 3.
12.
Mrs. Eliza Hagan (widow).
Mr. and Mrs. Andrew Hagan.
Emma, 12.
Mabel, 9.
David, 5 months.
13.
Mrs. Susan Swain (widow).
Ben, 35.
Rebekah, 28.
Mrs. Lucy Green is living with Mrs. Eliza Hagan, and Miss Cotton in an
annexe to the house in which Bob Green lives.
_Wednesday, July_ l8.--This afternoon Ellen and I decided to try our hand
at craw-fishing, as the contents of our larder were rather low. She got
some meat from Mrs. Glass, and we set forth furnished with a pair of tongs
in place of a landing-net. As we neared the rocks we saw two figures
silhouetted against the rays of the setting sun which proved to be those
of Mrs. Glass and her daughter Mrs. Lavarello. We did not succeed in
catching anything, but Mrs. Lavarello gave us her catch of three crawfish
and two small fish. She caught an octopus, which they call cat-fish,
horrid-looking creatures:--how she could handle them I do not know.
Birthdays are thought a good deal of here. If a household possesses any
tea or coffee, then open house is kept for the whole day, and any one can
drop in from early morning till late in the evening and expect a cup of
something. On the first occasion of a birthday we were invited, but Graham
felt it would not be wise to accept, as if we went to one we should have
to go to all. We are always apprised of a birthday by a present from the
person whose birthday it is. The present may be a pair of socks or
stockings, or a hot dish of meat, or a pot of tea, or almost anything to
be had. Of course, we give something in return, often a tin of jam in the
case of an elder. The last birthday was Mrs. Hagan's, to whom we offered
the choice of a couple of candles or a tin of jam; she chose the former.
They much treasure a piece of candle.
We find our medicine chest greatly appreciated, and every remedy is
thought a great deal of. I gave two rhubarb pills to a patient, and was
told she had had no ache or pain since. She was rather poorly, and had
taken to her bed, having caught a chill the night of the bonfire.
[Illustration: IN SCHOOL]
_Friday, July_ 20.--This morning after first school I took a photograph of
the children.
We have been measuring our rooms. The sitting-room is 16 feet by 11 feet 6
inches. Our bedroom is 9 feet 9 inches by 8 feet 8 inches. Ellen's room 6
feet 8 inches by 6 feet. The kitchen 11 feet 3 inches by 6 feet 4 inches.
The height is 7 feet 2 inches.
_Saturday, July 21_.--Today it has been blowing a gale. I was up soon
after seven as it was baking day, but found it was no good attempting to
bake as the oven could never be heated with such a wind, so I raked the
fire out. Tomorrow we must do without bread. Graham started off early for
school, escorting home Mrs. Hagan, who had brought the meat. As they got
on to the rising ground they were both blown over, and coming back from
school he was blown down again. I didn't venture out, but nearly all the
children turned up, the younger ones being carried by their parents. This
afternoon, however, though it was still blowing, I went with Graham to the
foot of the mountain to get some drinking water at the spring. We do not
drink water from the stream outside, as on its way to us it passes other
houses, and we do not know what may go into it. Our bedroom today was
covered with dust from the thatch. Betty Cotton came in to tea. Sitting in
the armchair she chatted away most cheerfully. She has not lived all her
life here, but has been away twice to the Cape where she was in service.
She would have returned again to South Africa, but for her old father and
mother whom she stayed to look after. Her heart is really at the Cape. She
is one of those who tries to carry out Mr. Dodgson's teaching, and is
rarely absent from church. Another woman told Ellen today if she had to
creep on her hands and knees tomorrow to get to church, she would do it
rather than miss going. I believe Mr. Dodgson once actually did reach
church in this way.
_Monday, July 23_.--A poor cow of Andrew Swain's sank in the bog yesterday
and the men could not get it out. They succeeded, however, in rescuing one
of Lucy Green's; the poor thing looked so wet and miserable standing under
the wall of Lavarello's lamb-house. The cattle question is a very serious
one and ought to be dealt with. Repetto has been here this afternoon, and
Graham has been talking it over with him. The fact is, there are far more
cattle than there is pasture for. People who have left the island still
own cattle and sheep here, which ought not to be allowed, because there is
not enough grazing ground for the cattle of the residents. It is too
painful to see the cattle, they are so emaciated, and their back legs seem
hardly able to support their bodies. Repetto says they will look worse
still. We are hoping something may be done when the man-of-war comes.
_Tuesday, July 24_.--William told us Betty's cow that had been put in her
field adjoining this garden was ill. Graham went with the boys to look
after it and fed it with grass. This evening it was dead. Like the others
it died from starvation. Mrs. Lucy Green has lost two, the one that was
got out of the bog and another that fell over the cliff. We are determined
to do something if possible to stop the suffering. The pigs which are
allowed to roam at large do much damage by rooting up the grass.
There were only eight at the women's meeting today. Graham gave the
address. Mrs. Repetto, who had not been before, stopped on the common to
tell us "It was the best afternoon she had spent in her life, better than
any party." It was an encouragement when so few were there. Some are kept
away by having to go out two or three miles for milking, the cows being
too weak to be driven home. Betty and Martha Green could not come because
they were preparing a meal for the men who are carting manure to Betty's
potato patch. It is the custom to feed those who are working for you.
_Wednesday, July 25_.--I had to get up in the night as Ellen was feeling
ill. She had a bad pain in the back of her neck which was relieved by the
application of a mustard-leaf. She did not get up all day. So I was kept
busy, even with the assistance Graham was able to give before and after
school. As we had not baked for nearly a week, I had to bake bread as well
as to cook the dinner. Graham broiled the chops; the kidneys twice fell
into the fire, and were finally lost.
It has been raining most of the day. Mrs. Hagan told me a cow of hers had
fallen over the cliff and been killed. I was almost thankful to hear there
was one less to suffer.
_Friday, July 27_.--Before we were up William brought news that a ship was
in sight, but too far eastward to reach. Directly after breakfast the men
started shooting a bullock which darkness the night before had prevented
them bringing down. The poor creature was chased by men firing shots, and
it was some time before they succeeded in shooting it. Mrs. Hagan ran in
to say the ship was in sight again, and she thought the men were going out
to it. I went up to the school to see what Graham was going to do. We gave
a short lesson, dismissed school, and came home to finish our letters.
Repetto ran in to ask Graham if he were going. I went down to see them
off. I always enjoy seeing a boat launched and the men scrambling in as it
is shoved off. The only thing I do not like to see is the way the poor
animals are treated, tossed into the boat with legs tied, quite regardless
as to whether it hurts them. The two boats started about 11.30, and in
about an hour and a half reached the ship, having sailed most of the way.
I followed them on and off with the glasses. They got back about five, and
we could tell they had done well, for they were singing as they came in.
The vessel was the _Loch Katrine_, a sailing ship from Glasgow. The
captain for the last nine years had been trying to call, but the weather
was against him. He was exceedingly kind, and able to provide the
islanders with a good deal of food in exchange for what they had brought.
He let them have a large barrel of flour, biscuits, tea, coffee and sugar.
The bottom of the sugar barrel fell out and the sugar lay on the deck; but
that was soon remedied: it was all swept into a bag. The bag had contained
meat, but that was a small detail. One of the passengers on board bought
two sheep for the crew, and with his other fellow-passenger made many
exchanges with the islanders. The captain was most kind and generous to
us. He asked Graham if there was anything he wanted, so Graham named a keg
of butter. But that he could not provide, and asked if there was anything
else. Graham thought of bacon, and then the captain said would he like a
ham? Not only did he give that, but a large tin of arrowroot, a bottle of
pickles, and a bottle of preserved greengages; and sent in addition two or
three pounds of tea as a special present to me, saying he wished it were
something better. The steward, too, said he would like to send "the lady"
a present from himself, and sent six pieces of scented soap. It was
exceedingly kind of them. The captain said his life was a trying one,
there being anxiety and worry day and night. Graham got the time, and
found we were forty minutes behind. He was ill going and returning, but
soon felt better after he had got warm and had food, for he had virtually
had nothing since breakfast. How we enjoyed looking at our presents! After
such an exciting day we didn't sleep much. The letters will be posted in
Australia.
_Saturday, July 28_.--It being a lovely afternoon Ellen and I went
eastward to gather wood on Big Beach, where we collected as much as three
could carry. Graham and William came to help us home with it. Ellen
carried some in her skirt, Graham took off his jacket and made a bundle,
and William "backed" a bagful.
[Illustration: BIG BEACH]
_Tuesday, July 31_.--It has been a busy day. I made scones before
breakfast and baked them on tins over an open fire, baking my face at the
same time. I was at school for two hours, and then sat down to machine
till dinner-time. At three o'clock I took the women's meeting, where we
finished the twenty-third Psalm. It was blowing and raining hard when we
came home. We found Repetto repairing for us a pair of bellows that had
belonged to Mr. Dodgson. Charlotte Swain came for some glycerine for her
mother who has asthma again. Later, Rebekah came in with her niece Mabel,
bringing some tablecloths her mother had ironed. Mabel shyly offered us
some fish. Rebekah stayed some time, Repetto till seven. The cattle
question was again discussed with him. Fifty-four have already died. If we
are only able to do some good as regards the cattle it will have been
something worth coming out for. I cannot bear to look at the poor
creatures. One of Betty's has several times got into our garden and had a
good feast. A few days ago it calved. So many have calves; I do not know
how they live. To finish the account of the day's work, after supper bread
had to be made. Alas! in the morning it turned out to be rather heavy.
Repetto, who is very fond of reading, has lent us a short biography of
Melanchthon, which we are reading aloud.
In one of the Glasgow papers that came from the _Loch Katrine_ there is a
notice of De P----'s sudden death in Paris. It is curious we should have
learnt the news in this way. We never find time to read till the evening,
and even then it often has to be put aside for writing.
We are glad to be getting through the winter. The thermometer has never
been lower than 44. The winds are very keen, and lately an east wind has
been blowing, which is unusual.
I find teaching infants needs much patience, but some days they are much
brighter than others. They are getting on, and the four elder ones can
read short words quite easily. They each have a book and read round in
turn. The others, who know their alphabet, stand round, too, but of course
take in but little. The four can actually add two to a number, and Arthur
Repetto can even add four and five together. He puts his back into
whatever he does. His mother is, I believe, rather stern with her
children; and some think they are whipped too much. However this may be,
they seem to be turning out well. Certainly all the mothers seem to teach
their children good manners; for example, if our boy William sees me
standing in school, he will get up and offer me a seat. He is very
thoughtful, and if we express a wish about anything, it is sure to be
done. His duties are to chop wood, to go to the spring for the drinking
water, and to fill the pails twice a day. If he happens not to be at home
he always sees that some one else does his work.
_Thursday, August 2_.--This afternoon after choir practice Ellen and I
went down to the rocks, although it was very cold, to try to catch
craw-fish. We had not started fishing when we saw William running towards
us. He came to say a ship was in view to the west and that the men were
going off. So of course we hurried up again to get our letters ready. The
boats put off about five o'clock and probably will not be back before
daylight.
_Friday, August 3_.--The men returned late last evening after a fruitless
journey. Although it was a moonlight night they failed to sight the ship.
They were very wet.
Graham is digging the lower part of the garden. It is covered with turf
which, as he removes, he banks up to form a little shelter from the wind
for the vegetables, if ever there are any. Flax shelters the bed on the
other side. The digging is rather laborious, as there are large stones
which have to be extracted with a crowbar. The soil is first-rate, and so
far no mildew has been met with. One of the greatest enemies to the seeds
will be the fowls, and because of them probably we shall have to sow first
in boxes. Graham has made a needle and mesh so that we can make nets.
Repetto has shown us how to start netting. It is not known who brought
flax to the isle, but Betty says her father and his contemporaries brought
it to the settlement from Sandy Point.
CHAPTER XII