CHAPTER IX

"FUROR CONSULARIS"

_December_ 1888 _to March_ 1889

Knappe, in the _Adler,_ with a flag of truce at the fore, was entering

Laulii Bay when the _Eber_ brought him the news of the night's reverse.

His heart was doubtless wrung for his young countrymen who had been

butchered and mutilated in the dark woods, or now lay suffering, and

some of them dying, on the ship. And he must have been startled as he

recognised his own position. He had gone too far; he had stumbled into

war, and, what was worse, into defeat; he had thrown away German lives

for less than nothing, and now saw himself condemned either to accept

defeat, or to kick and pummel his failure into something like success;

either to accept defeat, or take frenzy for a counsellor. Yesterday, in

cold blood, he had judged it necessary to have the woods to the westward

guarded lest the evacuation of Laulii should prove only the peril of

Apia. To-day, in the irritation and alarm of failure, he forgot or

despised his previous reasoning, and, though his detachment was beat

back to the ships, proceeded with the remainder of his maimed design.

The only change he made was to haul down the flag of truce. He had now

no wish to meet with Mataafa. Words were out of season, shells must

speak.

At this moment an incident befell him which must have been trying to his

self-command. The new American ship _Nipsic_ entered Laulii Bay; her

commander, Mullan, boarded the _Adler_ to protest, succeeded in wresting

from Knappe a period of delay in order that the women might be spared,

and sent a lieutenant to Mataafa with a warning. The camp was already

excited by the news and the trophies of Fangalii. Already Tamasese and

Lotoanuu seemed secondary objectives to the Germans and Apia. Mullan's

message put an end to hesitation. Laulii was evacuated. The troops

streamed westward by the mountain side, and took up the same day a

strong position about Tanungamanono and Mangiangi, some two miles behind

Apia, which they threatened with the one hand, while with the other they

continued to draw their supplies from the devoted plantations of the

German firm. Laulii, when it was shelled, was empty. The British flags

were, of course, fired upon; and I hear that one of them was struck

down, but I think every one must be privately of the mind that it was

fired upon and fell, in a place where it had little business to be

shown.

Such was the military epilogue to the ill-judged adventure of Fangalii;

it was difficult for failure to be more complete. But the other

consequences were of a darker colour and brought the whites immediately

face to face in a spirit of ill-favoured animosity. Knappe was mourning

the defeat and death of his country-folk, he was standing aghast over

the ruin of his own career, when Mullan boarded him. The successor of

Leary served himself, in that bitter moment, heir to Leary's part. And

in Mullan, Knappe saw more even than the successor of Leary,--he saw in

him the representative of Klein. Klein had hailed the praam from the

rifle-pits; he had there uttered ill-chosen words, unhappily prophetic;

it is even likely that he was present at the time of the first fire. To

accuse him of the design and conduct of the whole attack was but a step

forward; his own vapouring served to corroborate the accusation; and it

was not long before the German consulate was in possession of sworn

native testimony in support. The worth of native testimony is small, the

worth of white testimony not overwhelming; and I am in the painful

position of not being able to subscribe either to Klein's own account

of the affair or to that of his accusers. Klein was extremely flurried;

his interest as a reporter must have tempted him at first to make the

most of his share in the exploit, the immediate peril in which he soon

found himself to stand must have at least suggested to him the idea of

minimising it; one way and another, he is not a good witness. As for the

natives, they were no doubt cross-examined in that hall of terror, the

German consulate, where they might be trusted to lie like schoolboys, or

(if the reader prefer it) like Samoans. By outside white testimony, it

remains established for me that Klein returned to Apia either before or

immediately after the first shots. That he ever sought or was ever

allowed a share in the command may be denied peremptorily; but it is

more than likely that he expressed himself in an excited manner and with

a highly inflammatory effect upon his hearers. He was, at least,

severely punished. The Germans, enraged by his provocative behaviour and

what they thought to be his German birth, demanded him to be tried

before court-martial; he had to skulk inside the sentries of the

American consulate, to be smuggled on board a war-ship, and to be

carried almost by stealth out of the island; and what with the

agitations of his mind, and the results of a marsh fever contracted in

the lines of Mataafa, reached Honolulu a very proper object of

commiseration. Nor was Klein the only accused: de Coetlogon was himself

involved. As the boats passed Matautu, Knappe declares a signal was made

from the British consulate. Perhaps we should rather read "from its

neighbourhood"; since, in the general warding of the coast, the point of

Matautu could scarce have been neglected. On the other hand, there is no

doubt that the Samoans, in the anxiety of that night of watching and

fighting, crowded to the friendly consul for advice. Late in the night,

the wounded Siteoni, lying on the colonel's verandah, one corner of

which had been blinded down that he might sleep, heard the coming and

going of bare feet and the voices of eager consultation. And long after,

a man who had been discharged from the colonel's employment took upon

himself to swear an affidavit as to the nature of the advice then given,

and to carry the document to the German consul. It was an act of private

revenge; it fell long out of date in the good days of Dr. Stuebel, and

had no result but to discredit the gentleman who volunteered it. Colonel

de Coetlogon had his faults, but they did not touch his honour; his bare

word would always outweigh a waggon-load of such denunciations; and he

declares his behaviour on that night to have been blameless. The

question was besides inquired into on the spot by Sir John Thurston, and

the colonel honourably acquitted. But during the weeks that were now to

follow, Knappe believed the contrary; he believed not only that Moors

and others had supplied ammunition and Klein commanded in the field, but

that de Coetlogon had made the signal of attack; that though his

blue-jackets had bled and fallen against the arms of Samoans, these were

supplied, inspired, and marshalled by Americans and English.

The legend was the more easily believed because it embraced and was

founded upon so much truth. Germans lay dead, the German wounded groaned

in their cots; and the cartridges by which they fell had been sold by an

American and brought into the country in a British bottom. Had the

transaction been entirely mercenary, it would already have been hard to

swallow; but it was notoriously not so. British and Americans were

notoriously the partisans of Mataafa. They rejoiced in the result of

Fangalii, and so far from seeking to conceal their rejoicing, paraded

and displayed it. Calumny ran high. Before the dead were buried, while

the wounded yet lay in pain and fever, cowardly accusations of cowardice

were levelled at the German blue-jackets. It was said they had broken

and run before their enemies, and that they had huddled helpless like

sheep in the plantation house. Small wonder if they had; small wonder

had they been utterly destroyed. But the fact was heroically otherwise;

and these dastard calumnies cut to the blood. They are not forgotten;

perhaps they will never be forgiven.

In the meanwhile, events were pressing towards a still more trenchant

opposition. On the 20th, the three consuls met and parted without

agreement, Knappe announcing that he had lost men and must take the

matter in his own hands to avenge their death. On the 21st the _Olga_

came before Matafangatele, ordered the delivery of all arms within the

hour, and at the end of that period, none being brought, shelled and

burned the village. The shells fell for the most part innocuous; an

eyewitness saw children at play beside the flaming houses; not a soul

was injured; and the one noteworthy event was the mutilation of Captain

Hamilton's American flag. In one sense an incident too small to be

chronicled, in another this was of historic interest and import. These

rags of tattered bunting occasioned the display of a new sentiment in

the United States; and the republic of the West, hitherto so apathetic

and unwieldy, but already stung by German nonchalance, leaped to its

feet for the first time at the news of this fresh insult. As though to

make the inefficiency of the war-ships more apparent, three shells were

thrown inland at Mangiangi; they flew high over the Mataafa camp, where

the natives could "hear them singing" as they flew, and fell behind in

the deep romantic valley of the Vaisingano. Mataafa had been already

summoned on board the _Adler_; his life promised if he came, declared

"in danger" if he came not; and he had declined in silence the

unattractive invitation. These fresh hostile acts showed him that the

worst had come. He was in strength, his force posted along the whole

front of the mountain behind Apia, Matautu occupied, the Siumu road

lined up to the houses of the town with warriors passionate for war. The

occasion was unique, and there is no doubt that he designed to seize it.

The same day of this bombardment, he sent word bidding all English and

Americans wear a black band upon their arm, so that his men should

recognise and spare them. The hint was taken, and the band worn for a

continuance of days. To have refused would have been insane; but to

consent was unhappily to feed the resentment of the Germans by a fresh

sign of intelligence with their enemies, and to widen the breach between

the races by a fresh and a scarce pardonable mark of their division. The

same day again the Germans repeated one of their earlier offences by

firing on a boat within the harbour. Times were changed; they were now

at war and in peril, the rigour of military advantage might well be

seized by them and pardoned by others; but it so chanced that the

bullets flew about the ears of Captain Hand, and that commander is said

to have been insatiable of apologies. The affair, besides, had a

deplorable effect on the inhabitants. A black band (they saw) might

protect them from the Mataafas, not from undiscriminating shots. Panic

ensued. The war-ships were open to receive the fugitives, and the

gentlemen who had made merry over Fangalii were seen to thrust each

other from the wharves in their eagerness to flee Apia. I willingly drop

the curtain on the shameful picture.

Meanwhile, on the German side of the bay, a more manly spirit was

exhibited in circumstances of alarming weakness. The plantation managers

and overseers had all retreated to Matafele, only one (I understand)

remaining at his post. The whole German colony was thus collected in one

spot, and could count and wonder at its scanty numbers. Knappe declares

(to my surprise) that the war-ships could not spare him more than fifty

men a day. The great extension of the German quarter, he goes on, did

not "allow a full occupation of the outer line"; hence they had shrunk

into the western end by the firm buildings, and the inhabitants were

warned to fall back on this position, in the case of an alert. So that

he who had set forth, a day or so before, to disarm the Mataafas in the

open field, now found his resources scarce adequate to garrison the

buildings of the firm. But Knappe seemed unteachable by fate. It is

probable he thought he had

"Already waded in so deep,

Returning were as tedious as go o'er";

it is certain that he continued, on the scene of his defeat and in the

midst of his weakness, to bluster and menace like a conqueror. Active

war, which he lacked the means of attempting, was continually

threatened. On the 22nd he sought the aid of his brother consuls to

maintain the neutral territory against Mataafa; and at the same time, as

though meditating instant deeds of prowess, refused to be bound by it

himself. This singular proposition was of course refused: Blacklock

remarking that he had no fear of the natives, if these were let alone;

de Coetlogon refusing in the circumstances to recognise any neutral

territory at all. In vain Knappe amended and baited his proposal with

the offer of forty-eight or ninety-six hours' notice, according as his

objective should be near or within the boundary of the _Eleele Sa_. It

was rejected; and he learned that he must accept war with all its

consequences--and not that which he desired--war with the immunities of

peace.

This monstrous exigence illustrates the man's frame of mind. It has been

still further illuminated in the German white-book by printing alongside

of his despatches those of the unimpassioned Fritze. On January 8th the

consulate was destroyed by fire. Knappe says it was the work of

incendiaries, "without doubt"; Fritze admits that "everything seems to

show" it was an accident. "Tamasese's people fit to bear arms," writes

Knappe, "are certainly for the moment equal to Mataafa's," though

restrained from battle by the lack of ammunition. "As for Tamasese,"

says Fritze of the same date, "he is now but a phantom--_dient er nur

als Gespenst_. His party, for practical purposes, is no longer large.

They pretend ammunition to be lacking, but what they lack most is

good-will. Captain Brandeis, whose influence is now small, declares they

can no longer sustain a serious engagement, and is himself in the

intention of leaving Samoa by the _Luebeck_ of the 5th February." And

Knappe, in the same despatch, confutes himself and confirms the

testimony of his naval colleague, by the admission that "the

re-establishment of Tamasese's government is, under present

circumstances, not to be thought of." Plainly, then, he was not so much

seeking to deceive others, as he was himself possessed; and we must

regard the whole series of his acts and despatches as the agitations of

a fever.

The British steamer _Richmond_ returned to Apia, January 15th. On the

last voyage she had brought the ammunition already so frequently

referred to; as a matter of fact, she was again bringing contraband of

war. It is necessary to be explicit upon this, which served as spark to

so great a flame of scandal. Knappe was justified in interfering; he

would have been worthy of all condemnation if he had neglected, in his

posture of semi-investment, a precaution so elementary; and the manner

in which he set about attempting it was conciliatory and almost timid.

He applied to Captain Hand, and begged him to accept himself the duty of

"controlling" the discharge of the _Richmond's_ cargo. Hand was unable

to move without his consul; and at night an armed boat from the Germans

boarded, searched, and kept possession of, the suspected ship. The next

day, as by an after-thought, war and martial law were proclaimed for the

Samoan Islands, the introduction of contraband of war forbidden, and

ships and boats declared liable to search. "All support of the rebels

will be punished by martial law," continued the proclamation, "no matter

to what nationality the person [_Thaeter_] may belong."

Hand, it has been seen, declined to act in the matter of the _Richmond_

without the concurrence of his consul; but I have found no evidence that

either Hand or Knappe communicated with de Coetlogon, with whom they

were both at daggers drawn. First the seizure and next the proclamation

seem to have burst on the English consul from a clear sky; and he wrote

on the same day, throwing doubt on Knappe's authority to declare war.

Knappe replied on the 20th that the Imperial German Government had been

at war as a matter of fact since December 19th, and that it was only for

the convenience of the subjects of other states that he had been

empowered to make a formal declaration. "From that moment," he added,

"martial law prevails in Samoa." De Coetlogon instantly retorted,

declining martial law for British subjects, and announcing a

proclamation in that sense. Instantly, again, came that astonishing

document, Knappe's rejoinder, without pause, without reflection--the

pens screeching on the paper, the messengers (you would think) running

from consulate to consulate: "I have had the honour to receive your

Excellency's [_Hochwohlgeboren_] agreeable communication of to-day.

Since, on the ground of received instructions, martial law has been

declared in Samoa, British subjects as well as others fall under its

application. I warn you therefore to abstain from such a proclamation as

you announce in your letter. It will be such a piece of business as

shall make yourself answerable under martial law. Besides, your

proclamation will be disregarded." De Coetlogon of course issued his

proclamation at once, Knappe retorted with another, and night closed on

the first stage of this insane collision. I hear the German consul was

on this day prostrated with fever; charity at least must suppose him

hardly answerable for his language.

Early on the 21st, Mr. Mansfield Gallien, a passing traveller, was

seized in his berth on board the _Richmond_, and carried, half-dressed,

on board a German war-ship. His offence was, in the circumstances and

after the proclamation, substantial. He had gone the day before, in the

spirit of a tourist to Mataafa's camp, had spoken with the king, and had

even recommended him an appeal to Sir George Grey. Fritze, I gather, had

been long uneasy; this arrest on board a British ship filled the

measure. Doubtless, as he had written long before, the consul alone was

responsible "on the legal side"; but the captain began to ask himself,

"What next?"--telegraphed direct home for instructions, "Is arrest of

foreigners on foreign vessels legal?"--and was ready, at a word from

Captain Hand, to discharge his dangerous prisoner. The word in question

(so the story goes) was not without a kind of wit. "I wish you would set

that man ashore," Hand is reported to have said, indicating Gallien; "I

wish you would set that man ashore, to save me the trouble." The same

day de Coetlogon published a proclamation requesting captains to submit

to search for contraband of war.

On the 22nd the _Samoa Times and South Sea Advertiser_ was suppressed by

order of Fritze. I have hitherto refrained from mentioning the single

paper of our islands, that I might deal with it once for all. It is of

course a tiny sheet; but I have often had occasion to wonder at the

ability of its articles, and almost always at the decency of its tone.

Officials may at times be a little roughly, and at times a little

captiously, criticised; private persons are habitually respected; and

there are many papers in England, and still more in the States, even of

leading organs in chief cities, that might envy, and would do well to

imitate, the courtesy and discretion of the _Samoa Times_. Yet the

editor, Cusack, is only an amateur in journalism, and a carpenter by

trade. His chief fault is one perhaps inevitable in so small a

place--that he seems a little in the leading of a clique; but his

interest in the public weal is genuine and generous. One man's meat is

another man's poison: Anglo-Saxons and Germans have been differently

brought up. To our galled experience the paper appears moderate; to

their untried sensations it seems violent. We think a public man fair

game; we think it a part of his duty, and I am told he finds it a part

of his reward, to be continually canvassed by the press. For the

Germans, on the other hand, an official wears a certain sacredness; when

he is called over the coals, they are shocked, and (if the official be

a German) feel that Germany itself has been insulted. The _Samoa Times_

had been long a mountain of offence. Brandeis had imported from the

colonies another printer of the name of Jones, to deprive Cusack of the

government printing. German sailors had come ashore one day, wild with

offended patriotism, to punish the editor with stripes, and the result

was delightfully amusing. The champions asked for the English printer.

They were shown the wrong man, and the blows intended for Cusack had

hailed on the shoulders of his rival Jones. On the 12th, Cusack had

reprinted an article from a San Francisco paper; the Germans had

complained; and de Coetlogon, in a moment of weakness, had fined the

editor twenty pounds. The judgment was afterwards reversed in Fiji; but

even at the time it had not satisfied the Germans. And so now, on the

third day of martial law, the paper was suppressed. Here we have another

of these international obscurities. To Fritze the step seemed natural

and obvious; for Anglo-Saxons it was a hand laid upon the altar; and the

month was scarce out before the voice of Senator Frye announced to his

colleagues that free speech had been suppressed in Samoa.

Perhaps we must seek some similar explanation for Fritze's short-lived

code, published and withdrawn the next day, the 23rd. Fritze himself was

in no humour for extremities. He was much in the position of a

lieutenant who should perceive his captain urging the ship upon the

rocks. It is plain he had lost all confidence in his commanding officer

"upon the legal side"; and we find him writing home with anxious

candour. He had understood that martial law implied military possession;

he was in military possession of nothing but his ship, and shrewdly

suspected that his martial jurisdiction should be confined within the

same limits. "As a matter of fact," he writes, "we do not occupy the

territory, and cannot give foreigners the necessary protection, because

Mataafa and his people can at any moment forcibly interrupt me in my

jurisdiction." Yet in the eyes of Anglo-Saxons the severity of his code

appeared burlesque. I give but three of its provisions. The crime of

inciting German troops "by any means, as, for instance, informing them

of proclamations by the enemy," was punishable with death; that of

"publishing or secretly distributing anything, whether printed or

written, bearing on the war," with prison or deportation; and that of

calling or attending a public meeting, unless permitted, with the same.

Such were the tender mercies of Knappe, lurking in the western end of

the German quarter, where Mataafa could "at any moment" interrupt his

jurisdiction.

On the 22nd (day of the suppression of the _Times_) de Coetlogon wrote

to inquire if hostilities were intended against Great Britain, which

Knappe on the same day denied. On the 23rd de Coetlogon sent a complaint

of hostile acts, such as the armed and forcible entry of the _Richmond_

before the declaration and arrest of Gallien. In his reply, dated the

24th, Knappe took occasion to repeat, although now with more

self-command, his former threat against de Coetlogon. "I am still of the

opinion," he writes, "that even foreign consuls are liable to the

application of martial law, if they are guilty of offences against the

belligerent state." The same day (24th) de Coetlogon complained that

Fletcher, manager for Messrs. MacArthur, had been summoned by Fritze. In

answer, Knappe had "the honour to inform your Excellency that since the

declaration of the state of war, British subjects are liable to martial

law, and Mr. Fletcher will be arrested if he does not appear." Here,

then, was the gauntlet thrown down, and de Coetlogon was burning to

accept it. Fletcher's offence was this. Upon the 22nd a steamer had come

in from Wellington, specially chartered to bring German despatches to

Apia. The rumour came along with her from New Zealand that in these

despatches Knappe would find himself rebuked, and Fletcher was accused

of having "interested himself in the spreading of this rumour." His

arrest was actually ordered, when Hand succeeded in persuading him to

surrender. At the German court, the case was dismissed "_wegen

Nichtigkeit_"; and the acute stage of these distempers may be said to

have ended. Blessed are the peacemakers. Hand had perhaps averted a

collision. What is more certain, he had offered to the world a perfectly

original reading of the part of British seaman.

Hand may have averted a collision, I say; but I am tempted to believe

otherwise. I am tempted to believe the threat to arrest Fletcher was the

last mutter of the declining tempest and a mere sop to Knappe's

self-respect. I am tempted to believe the rumour in question was

substantially correct, and the steamer from Wellington had really

brought the German consul grounds for hesitation, if not orders to

retreat. I believe the unhappy man to have awakened from a dream, and to

have read ominous writing on the wall. An enthusiastic popularity

surrounded him among the Germans. It was natural. Consul and colony had

passed through an hour of serious peril, and the consul had set the

example of undaunted courage. He was entertained at dinner. Fritze, who

was known to have secretly opposed him, was scorned and avoided. But the

clerks of the German firm were one thing, Prince Bismarck was another;

and on a cold review of these events, it is not improbable that Knappe

may have envied the position of his naval colleague. It is certain, at

least, that he set himself to shuffle and capitulate; and when the blow

fell, he was able to reply that the martial law business had in the

meanwhile come right; that the English and American consular courts

stood open for ordinary cases; and that in different conversations with

Captain Hand, "who has always maintained friendly intercourse with the

German authorities," it had been repeatedly explained that only the

supply of weapons and ammunition, or similar aid and support, was to

come under German martial law. Was it weapons or ammunition that

Fletcher had supplied? But it is unfair to criticise these wrigglings

of an unfortunate in a false position.

In a despatch of the 23rd, which has not been printed, Knappe had told

his story: how he had declared war, subjected foreigners to martial law,

and been received with a counter-proclamation by the English consul; and

how (in an interview with Mataafa chiefs at the plantation house of

Motuotua, of which I cannot find the date) he had demanded the cession

of arms and of ringleaders for punishment, and proposed to assume the

government of the islands. On February 12th he received Bismarck's

answer: "You had no right to take foreigners from the jurisdiction of

their consuls. The protest of your English colleague is grounded. In

disputes which may arise from this cause you will find yourself in the

wrong. The demand formulated by you, as to the assumption of the

government of Samoa by Germany, lay outside of your instructions and of

our design. Take it immediately back. If your telegram is here rightly

understood, I cannot call your conduct good." It must be a hard heart

that does not sympathise with Knappe in the hour when he received this

document. Yet it may be said that his troubles were still in the

beginning. Men had contended against him, and he had not prevailed; he

was now to be at war with the elements, and find his name identified

with an immense disaster.

One more date, however, must be given first. It was on February 27th

that Fritze formally announced martial law to be suspended, and himself

to have relinquished the control of the police.

The Works of Robert Louis Stevenson - Swanston Edition, Vol. 17 · 第 9 / 13 章