Return to London and Holland.--Separation Festival in
Amsterdam.--Departure from Rotterdam.--My traveling
Companions.--Emigrant Children.--Story of a poor Girl.--Cape
Town.--Fortunate Meeting.--Alteration of my traveling Plans.
On the 12th of August I left Paris, as I have said, with my business
unconcluded, and returned to London.
After mature deliberation, I had at length taken my resolution. The
exceedingly kind reception I had met with in the Dutch Indies on my last
journey aroused in me the wish to make a second voyage in the same
direction, particularly as there were many islands yet to be explored.
The state of affairs in Madagascar might also change during my absence,
and on my return I might find it possible to visit this almost unknown
region. I made inquiries about the price of a passage, but found it was
£75--too much for my purse. As a special favor, I was to be allowed a
reduction of five pounds; but I hoped to find more favorable conditions
offered in Holland, and the sequel proved that I was not mistaken.
Before leaving London I paid a visit to Mr. Shaw, the Secretary of the
Geographical Society. He had read in the papers of the honor accorded to
me by the Geographical Society of Paris. He seemed somewhat embarrassed,
and expressed his regret that a similar step could not be taken in
London, inasmuch as it was expressly forbidden by the statutes to
receive a woman as a member. I wonder what the emancipated ladies of the
United States would say to such a prohibition! That I should not be
received was natural enough, for I can not lay claim to a deep
knowledge of any branch of the science. But no one will doubt the
existence of many really scientific women at the present day, and to
exclude such persons merely on account of their sex I think
incomprehensible. It might pass in the East, where the female sex is not
held in great estimation, but not in a country like England, which
professes to take pride in its civilization, and to keep pace with the
spirit of the times.
So far as I am personally concerned, I have every reason to be grateful
to the Geographical Society of London. It made me a valuable present,
without my having taken any steps in the matter; for it never was my way
to thrust myself forward or to petition for any thing.
On the 22d of August I again set foot on Dutch soil, and it was in
Rotterdam. My valued friend, Colonel Steuerwald, had recommended me to
Herr Baarz; and by this friendly and exceedingly obliging gentleman I
was received in the heartiest manner, and spent some very agreeable days
in his house. Herr Baarz introduced me to Herr Oversee, one of the
principal ship-owners of Rotterdam. One of his ships was just ready to
sail for Batavia; she was to be dispatched at the end of August. This
was a capital opportunity for me. But Herr Oversee tried to dissuade me
from going in this ship, as all the berths were not only taken, but
overcrowded as far as the Cape of Good Hope, where the vessel was to
touch. Besides the cabin passengers, there was to be a whole cargo of
children, boys and girls, of from ten to fourteen years of age, nearly a
hundred in number, who had been bespoken by Dutchmen settled at the
Cape, to be trained as men-and maid-servants. As I heard that a separate
part of the ship had been allotted to the girls, and that they had been
placed under the superintendence of a matron, and as I was anxious not
to miss this opportunity of starting, I urged Herr Oversee to give me a
berth in this portion of the ship. The kind man acquiesced at once. He
put me on a par with the first-class passengers as to diet and other
details: from the Cape to the end of my journey I was to have a separate
cabin, and the charge for the entire voyage was not more than twelve
pounds ten shillings sterling.
This affair concluded, I went to Amsterdam to take leave of the amiable
Steuerwald family, and came just in time to be present at some public
festivities, celebrated, as it seemed to me, on very extraordinary
grounds. The festival was in honor of the separation effected between
Belgium and Holland twenty-five years before. This separation had been
any thing but voluntary on the part of Holland, but it was nevertheless
commemorated with great enthusiasm. The affair had already been going on
for some days when I arrived, and was not to be finished under three or
four more. Dutchmen seem to think it impossible to get through with a
holiday under a week. On the other hand, the people are certainly very
moderate in their requirements: all they want is license to parade about
the streets from morning till late in the evening, to look at a few
flags and wooden triumphal arches, and to see those who really do feast
drive past on their way to banquets and to balls.
The chief solemnity was fixed for the 27th of August, the anniversary of
the “separation.” I arrived on the afternoon of the 26th, and found
every window decorated with flags, little triumphal arches here and
there, gay with green boughs and colored paper, and such a crowd in the
streets that my carriage could scarcely force its way through.
Next day there was certainly something extra to be seen. In spite of the
streams of rain which kept pouring from the heavens (perhaps in token of
mourning for the “separation”), the military turned out on parade; the
king appeared on a tribune erected in the cathedral square, opposite the
palace, listened to the speeches of the burgomaster, and of the leaders
of the troops who still survived from those days, and made speeches in
reply. Four hundred children sang the national anthem and other hymns. A
monument was moreover uncovered--an obelisk, with the Goddess of Union
standing thereupon, and its base resting on the heads of many lions,
from whose open jaws streams of water gushed forth. In the evening we
had a display of fire-works and illuminations.
I should not like to incur the imputation of passing a hasty judgment
upon the people, nor do festivities of this description afford much
opportunity for forming an opinion, for the same curiosity and the same
contentment are found among the people all the world over when there is
any thing to be seen. I was, however, disagreeably impressed here, as I
had been already at the Hague and at Utrecht, by the frequent appearance
of groups of slatternly women, three or four of them arm-in-arm, pushing
their way noisily through the crowd, and sometimes even heading troops
of half-drunken men, like so many Megæras, shouting and dancing as
noisily as the topers themselves. This the Hollanders call jollity. I
call it shamelessness; and am always grieved to see women fallen so low
as to brazen out their shame in the face of the world.
After a hearty farewell to my friends I returned to Rotterdam, and on
the 31st of August I betook myself on board the “Salt-Bommel,” 700 tons
burden, Captain Juta, master.
Our ship was the first that was to carry a cargo of children from their
native land; and as the 31st of August happened to be Sunday, and a very
fine day, and as the Hollanders are just as inquisitive as any other
nation, it is not to be wondered at that from the early morning the
quays and the shore were lined with thousands of spectators. The good
people had the consolation of looking at our ship all day long, for the
steam-tug which was to take us in tow as far as the Nieuwe Sluis did not
make its appearance till four o’clock in the afternoon.
On board there was as much life and bustle as on shore. The children
came trooping in, a few at a time, accompanied by their relatives, and
laden with eatables and with little keepsakes. Here a mother might be
seen pressing her child to her bosom for the last time; there a father
gave his son a few last words of counsel and exhortation before the
journey began; and many parents, after several partings from their
children, came hastening back to take a last look at the beloved faces.
And when the ship at last moved from the shore, many were there who
could be seen crying “farewell” after distance had rendered the sound
inaudible. Handkerchiefs and hats were waved to wish us God-speed, and
mighty “hurrahs” were raised; the whole city seemed to take an interest
in our outgoing, as though the children had belonged to the people at
large. This universal sympathy and excitement was a good panacea against
mournful reflections. Children and parents shouted their loudest with
the rest; and if many a poor mother sat down and dropped a tear as she
parted from her darling, her low sob was drowned in the louder accents
of rejoicing and farewell.
Whenever we passed a village, the shouting and waving of handkerchiefs
began again. Happy youth, that can thus look forward with light heart to
the unknown future!
Our progress to-day did not extend beyond eight miles (I must always be
understood to mean _geographical_, or sea-miles, sixty to a degree). The
steam-tug took leave of us in the evening. On the following day we
drifted lazily as far as the wharf of Helvoetsluys, and here we had to
remain at anchor for some days, with what patience we might, waiting for
a wind.
These few days were enough to convince me that I must prepare myself for
a very uncomfortable voyage with very uncongenial companions.
The cargo of children was bound, as I have said, for the Cape Colony.
Some were to be landed at Cape Town, the others at Port Elizabeth, a few
hundred miles distant, on the northeast coast. At the Cape it is almost
impossible to get respectable industrious servants or artisans: people
there are compelled to employ Hottentots and Caffres, who will only hire
themselves out for a few days, or at most for a week or two; and they
frequently run away, leaving their work half done. The Dutch settlers,
therefore, bespeak children from their mother country, with the object
of training them up as servants and artisans.
These children receive board, lodging, and clothing from the day of
their embarkation. On reaching their destination they serve without
wages for the first two years and a half, during which time they are
considered as working off the expenses of their journey. For every
following year they receive, besides board and clothing, sixty Dutch
guilders (£5), one guilder per month being handed to them as
pocket-money. The other forty-eight guilders are deposited with the
authorities, and on completing their twenty-first year the balance is
paid over to them. They have then the right of leaving their masters,
should they wish to do so.
In several towns in Holland committees were formed for the selection of
these children. From the orphan asylums none were taken. The children
are asked, in the presence of the authorities, if they are content to
travel beyond sea. Unfortunately, however, the committee seem to have
taken matters very easily, and to have troubled themselves very little
about the prescribed regulations. Thus the _children_ were not children
at all; almost without exception they numbered from sixteen to twenty
years, instead of from ten to fourteen; and they must certainly have
been picked up out of the streets, for in all my life I never saw such
an amount of riff-raff collected together. The grown-up girls must have
been lounging about for years in the sailor’s taverns; the younger ones
followed the example of the elder, and the whole community swore like
the sailors themselves, sang the most uproarious songs, and stole from
one another. Their want of cleanliness was awful.
But I will not be too bitter against these poor wretches; and let him
who would condemn them consider the curse that weighs from their
birth-hour upon the children of poverty. It is not because they are
wretchedly clothed and half fed that I pity them so heartily; their
greatest misfortune consists in their having nobody to take charge of
the education of their hearts and minds. The parents are seldom capable
of fulfilling this trust, for did not the same curse rest upon their
infancy? They work hard through the day, and give their children the
indispensable bread, and think they have done their duty. If several
other children come, the loaf becomes insufficient, and they are obliged
to put the elder children to work at the earliest possible moment. If
this work to which they are put were but regular, it might be rather an
advantage to the child than otherwise; but what can a little boy or a
little girl of seven or eight years old do? Those who get into the
factories, or are bound apprentices, are the best off; but there is not
employment of this kind for all, and for many there is no refuge left
but to do all kinds of little offices in the streets, hawk newspapers,
sweep crossings, and run on errands. Left to themselves, without
guidance, without definite notions of right and wrong, and too often,
alas! with the evil example of their parents before their eyes, is it to
be wondered at if they at last succumb to the temptations that hover
round them in such varied forms?
Far more worthy of condemnation do those men appear to me to whom the
education of the people is intrusted, and who so often leave their duty
unperformed. They can not, like the children of the poor, plead
ignorance in their own defense; for if they fail, they do so with a full
consciousness of their offense.
I speak of the priests and schoolmasters, who, to my thinking, are the
most important men among the people; for in their hands lies the real
education of the rest. They are the chief personages in every village;
they can, if they earnestly desire it, effect an incalculable amount of
good, and the government ought to keep the most vigilant watch upon
them. Is this done? Alas! I fear not.
The clergymen are generally so little attended to by their consistories,
that the whole village will sometimes be crying out about the misconduct
of its minister, while his superiors know nothing about it. And if the
affair becomes too bad at length, what is the punishment? Simply his
translation to some other parish.
The schoolmasters, moreover, are so badly paid, that scarcely any one
will take up with this profession who can earn his living in another
way.
With a few notable exceptions, clergymen and schoolmasters think they
have done their duty when the former have preached a dry sermon on
Sundays, and the latter have managed to teach their pupils to read and
write. But how few, how very few, trouble themselves about the moral
training of the children intrusted to their charge, by teaching them the
difference between right and wrong, by endeavoring to rouse their hearts
and minds to healthy action, and, above all, by setting them a good
example!
We had a schoolmaster on board, Herr Jongeneel, and his wife: he was to
superintend the boys and she the girls. These good people ate their
rations with great perseverance, said many prayers and sang psalms, but
they cared very little about the behavior of those who had been
intrusted to them. The last note of the psalm had scarcely died upon the
lips of the girls before they would be hurrying away to the deck, where
they spent the evening and half the night bandying jests with the mates
and sailors. Even in the daytime their behavior was so unbecoming that
I and a married female passenger, with her step-daughter, were obliged
to pass nearly all our time in the cabin.
I hear that Herr Jongeneel is to have a post as a missionary at the
Cape. What is to be expected from such a man? He began the voyage with a
falsehood. He had assured the committee he had no children, yet came on
board with a child, and his wife was daily expecting another, which duly
arrived on the 3d of September.
Under these circumstances, it was, of course, impossible for me to sleep
in the girls’ cabin. Captain Juta, a very good, obliging man, saw this,
and as there was no other vacant place, he had a berth arranged for me
on a settle in the chief cabin. It was not very comfortable, for the
seat was not more than a foot broad, and it was a very difficult matter
to maintain my place upon it, particularly when the ship rolled.
The rest of the company consisted--besides the young wife, her
step-daughter, and myself--of eight or nine gentlemen, who were not the
most eligible of fellow-passengers. They were generally very fond of
seizing every opportunity of conversing with the girls, in a very
sailor-like style. In the evening there was often such a disturbance
that we quiet women could not find a peaceful spot on the deck where we
might enjoy a little fresh air. The gentlemen and the girls raced wildly
round the decks, pricked one another with needles, and shouted, laughed,
and screamed like denizens of the lowest public houses. Mr. Schumann, a
young chemist, was an honorable exception.
It was not till the 4th of September that a slight breeze arose, aided
by which (and a little steam-tug) we made our way into the North Sea.
The sails soon began to fill, and on the 5th we entered the English
Channel, through which we sailed in two days and a half--the quickest
run through this dangerous passage I have ever made in a sailing-vessel.
The 7th of September was a Sunday. The schoolmaster and missionary
expectant read the service with half-closed eyes, and with such an
appearance of unction and importance that one would have thought he had
been born a priest. His address or sermon was so dry and bald as to be
fit only for savages, who would not understand a word, good or bad. At
the dinner-table he seemed more at home--ye powers, what an appetite he
had! In the afternoon we had almost a calm. The captain, who was ever
ready to give pleasure to all, had a fine organ on board. He had it
brought on deck, and played, that the young people might dance. It was
quite a little festival. Every one was in good spirits, cheerful, and
decorous, for the captain remained present the whole time. The sailors
also sang, and danced among themselves or with the girls. The boys
clambered about the rigging, played with each other, or executed all
kinds of gymnastic feats. We passengers stood about in groups, watching
the gambols of the merry youngsters.
One of the girls took no part in the general hilarity. The poor thing
seemed the only one who felt how mournful it was to go forth into the
wide world without staff or stay. On the very first night which I passed
in the girls’ cabin I had been struck by her mournful countenance; she
had cried herself to sleep, called for her mother in her dreams, and in
the morning when she awoke, and saw all the strange faces round her, she
seemed to lose all courage, cowered in a corner, and wept long and
bitterly. Great indeed must have been the poverty of the parents that
induced them to part with a child who clung with such passionate
tenderness to the remembrance of home, and bitter the parting of the
poor mother from the child that was going to the far country with such a
slender prospect of returning. Surely there is a sharper sting in such a
parting than in following the remains of a beloved relative to the
church-yard. In the one case there is the consoling belief that the
soul is safe from harm, but alas for the perils that encompass soul and
body on a life-long journey among strange faces!
Oh, that all into whose houses these orphan children come would endeavor
to make up to them, by a little love, the mighty loss these poor
creatures have sustained! I tried to console the girl as well as I
could, and the good captain spoke kind words to her, and promised to
take her back to Europe if she did not feel happy at the Cape. But as
the girl’s sorrow wore off from day to day, she began to take
pleasure--as we find is too frequently the case--in the conduct of her
companions, and in a few weeks home and parents were alike forgotten.
The only girl on board whose behavior was uniformly good was one from
whom I should least have expected propriety of conduct. Mary, as they
called her, was the daughter, by a first marriage, of a man who had
married again shortly after the death of his first wife. There was a son
by this marriage, two years younger than Mary. The second wife disliked
her step-children, scolded them continually, and frequently ill treated
them, particularly when she had taken too much brandy, which she
appeared to do pretty frequently. When Mary had reached her eighteenth,
and her brother his sixteenth year, she declared that they were old
enough to earn their own living, and turned them out of the house. For
three months the poor creatures slept in the streets or in any corner
where they could get shelter; no one would receive them, no one would
take pity on the poor, ragged, half-starved wretches. They had learned
nothing, and could barely manage by begging, and by little earnings now
and then, to get a few farthings to buy bread. Once they had a hope of
seeing their condition improved. One evening, as they stood at the
corner of a street, they saw an elderly man crossing the road, and
leading a little girl by the hand. A merry boy of seven or eight years
of age was following them; he had loitered a few paces behind, playing
with his hoop. Just when he was in the middle of the road a carriage
came round the corner. The startled boy tried to spring aside, but fell
over his hoop, and would probably have been crushed by the wheels, or
trampled under foot by the horses, if Mary’s brother, who happened to be
close by, had not rushed toward him, and dragged him out of the way.
The old gentleman came hurrying up, took the boy in his arms, examined
him carefully, and could scarcely believe he had escaped entirely
without injury. As a crowd had begun to gather round, he beckoned Mary’s
brother to follow him, and went toward his own house accompanied by the
children. He made the two beggars--for Mary had kept close to her
brother--come in with him, and asked where they lived. They told him
their history in a few words. The old gentleman seemed touched, wrote
down the address of their father, and dismissed them with a small
gratuity and a direction to call again on the following evening.
They were quite overjoyed; for the first time in three months they could
enjoy a warm meal and sleep under a roof, and they hoped that next
evening the good gentleman would find them work, and perhaps even take
them into his house. With what impatience they waited for the appointed
hour! At last the evening came, and with beating hearts they knocked at
the door. An old servant appeared, and desired them to wait; after a
short absence he reappeared, put a few guilders into their hands, and
said that his master could do nothing more for them. Great was the
disappointment of the poor children; but they did not dare to question
the servant, and went away weeping silently.
The old gentleman had probably gone to make inquiries at the parents’
house, and finding the step-mother alone, the wicked woman, to justify
herself for having turned the children out of doors, had told some
horrible tale about them.
The poor wretches were looking forward with great fear to the
approaching winter, when fortunately they heard of the committee which
sent out young people to the Cape. They went at once to the office, and
were accepted.
A girl who remains good and virtuous under such circumstances deserves
the greatest respect and admiration. Mary continued, like a heroine,
unspoiled by the bad step-mother, by starvation in the streets, or by
the bad example on board. God grant poor Mary happiness and blessings,
for surely she deserves them!
On the 19th of September a very strange incident took place. We were
going quietly before the wind, when suddenly it changed and took us “all
aback.” The sails could not be furled quickly enough to save one of the
yards from being sprung and the sail torn to shreds. The whole affair
was over in a few moments, and the passengers in the cabin knew nothing
about it. The captain ascribed the occurrence to a great water-spout. We
could not see it, but had probably come within the domain of the
whirlwind it raised.
At the end of our passage, which was somewhat tedious and thoroughly
uneventful, we had a death on board; the schoolmaster’s eldest child
died of the croup. I was very disagreeably impressed on this occasion by
the behavior of the mother. With the child on her lap--it had only died
a few minutes before--the bereaved mother eagerly asked for bread,
butter, and cheese, and a glass of water. When she began to drink the
water, and found it was not sweetened, she scolded the girl, and sent
her off for the sugar. After she had satisfied her hunger and thirst,
the poor little child was dressed, and the scene of grief began. She
took it in her arms, wept and sobbed, and seemed as if she could not
part from it. A few hours afterward all signs of mourning had vanished,
and one would have thought the poor child had never existed.
On the 16th of November, at noon, we at length cast anchor in front of
Cape Town. For a description of this place, I refer my readers to my
“Second Voyage round the World.”
It was Sunday, and I therefore refrained from going on shore. Where
English people form the majority of the population, it is not customary
to pay visits on this day; the good folks are all day long either at
church, or praying at home, or supposed to be praying.
Cape Town is not so great but that the name of every stranger is known
within a few hours after arrival; and on this first afternoon I received
two friendly offers of hospitality for the time of my stay here--one
from Madame Bloom, the other from Mr. Juritz, an apothecary.
On the morning of the 17th of November, I was engaged in packing up my
few possessions before going ashore with the captain when a gentleman
came on board and inquired for me. He introduced himself as Mr. Lambert,
a Frenchman, and told me that he had been living in the island of
Mauritius some years, and had, in fact, landed here on his return voyage
to that island. He had heard in Paris of my intention of proceeding to
Madagascar, and that I had been dissuaded from attempting the journey.
Hearing yesterday of my arrival, he had hastened to invite me to go to
Madagascar with him, if I had not entirely abandoned my project. He had
been in the island about two years before, and was personally acquainted
with the queen. He had written to her from Paris, requesting permission
to pay a second visit, for no one is allowed to land in Madagascar
without the queen’s consent. He hoped to find this permission awaiting
him at the Mauritius, and would write immediately on his arrival to
obtain a similar permission for me, which he had no doubt would be
granted; only, if I intended to undertake the journey, I must make up
my mind at once, as the steamer would start for the Mauritius on the
following day. In consequence of the rainy season having set in at
Madagascar, the voyage from the Mauritius thither could not be commenced
until the beginning of April; but, in the interval, Mr. Lambert assured
me I should find the heartiest welcome in his house.
It would be difficult to picture my surprise and joy at this. I had
given up all hope of carrying out my plan, and now I should be able to
do it, and, moreover, in the most agreeable and the safest way. I hardly
knew what to say to Mr. Lambert. I felt ready to shout for joy, and tell
every one I met of my good fortune. Yes, I have had good luck in my
journeyings--never-ending luck. At Rotterdam I found a ship which was to
touch at the Cape--a thing that hardly occurs twice in the course of a
year, as the Dutch have scarcely any communication with the colony; and
here at the Cape I arrive just in time to meet Mr. Lambert, who would
have been gone had I landed twenty-four hours later. These are the happy
chances one reads of frequently enough in novels, but they very seldom
occur in actual life.
I immediately sent my baggage to the steamer, and hastened ashore to see
my friends. An adjutant of the governor, Sir George Grey, came with an
invitation from his excellency to visit him at his country house. I
could not resist so flattering a summons, and spent the whole evening at
his excellency’s. Sir George made me the tempting offer of a journey
through the greater part of the Cape territory in his company; but
nothing in the world would have induced me to give up Madagascar. I
therefore gratefully declined his liberal offer, the value of which,
however, I fully appreciated, and that, under different circumstances, I
should have joyfully accepted. This kind gentleman seemed to take a real
interest in my doings, and to be sorry that he could not in any way be
of service to me. He made me promise to let him know by letter if I
should require his recommendation or any other assistance on my journey.
On the morning of the 18th of November I was escorted back to the town
to Mr. Lambert, and a few hours later we were again at sea.