Kaleidoscope : shifting scenes from east to west

Front matter

Qlornell Hntueraitjj Slibcarg

CHARLES WILLIAM WASON COLLECTION

CHINA AND THE CHINESE

Introduction

It has always appeared to me that one of the most beautiful sayings attributed to Madame de S^vignd is comprised in five French words, " Tout connu, tout sera pardonn6." If it were not gilding the lily, I would add, " Tout connu, tout sera compris."

They teach us a lesson valuable in all relations of life — more especially valuable in literature, where the character of a country, or of an individual, is in question — namely, that no man or woman can write a worthy criticism upon any subject with which he or she has not some strong sympathy.

A rabid Evangelical clergyman might as well attempt a Life of Shelley as for any one to write upon America or our own colonies who is not conscious of some bond of attraction between himself and these countries.

Mr. Froude, in his popular Oceana, went to the other extreme, as many think, of fulsome flattery, and yet failed to please everybody.

Possibly the butter was too thickly spread, even for colonial throats, or perhaps the general howl of indignation arose, in

INTJBODUCTION., the first place, amongst those who were unfortunately, but inevitably, left out of the account altogether, to consume their dry bread in the background.

However this may be, poor Froude's name in Australasia is as the red rag to the Colonial bull.

No doubt, in the case of New Zealand, his very pessimistic account of that country's financial state came too near the truth to be pleasant.

Although Froude may have rightly considered it his duty to warn the " old country " of the rotten condition of many New Zealand investments, there is still something to be said from the point of view of New Zealand capitalists who maintain that many investments of a perfectly hond fide character, suffering merely from temporary depression, were hopelessly wrecked by the wild panic which set in on the publication of Oceana.

America is a country which arouses my admiration, interest and sympathy.

I went to the Colonies expecting to have all three at least equally excited, and the result was disappointment; the practical outcome of this being that the months I had intended to spend in Australia dwindled down to weeks.

Australia, as a whole, appears to me, I must confess, most uninteresting ; a second or third rate England, with the substitution of a " climate " for our own fogs and bitter winds.

Many will say, " But surely Australia is very like America ? " So it is— as a caricature. It has all the " bumptiousness "

INTKODUCTION. vn and self-assertion of America without her originality; all the energy for money-grubbing without her enthusiastic ambition to possess what is noblest in art and literature when the money is made.

I met some few Australians {pur et simple) who were altogether charming, and I trust will remain friends for life, but I believe they would be the first to indorse my opinion of the people as a whole.

I spoke to many young Colonial girls on the subject, who were bewailing the too brief Paradise of a visit to the "old country," and saw how much those who had any intelligence deplored the empty, unsatisfactory life surrounding them.

" It has taken us quite a year to settle back into the old grooves again," said one young lady to me, speaking of a late visit with her mother and sisters to England.

"You have so much in the old country, and we have nothing here but sunshine, and one gets too miich even of that in the long, hot summer days."

It is not so much the absence of art that one deplores in Australia. That is inevitable in such a young country. It is the absence of all enthusiasm for it and interest in it.

" The proof of the pudding is in the eating." These rich people, who will give thousands of pounds to build palaces to hve in, consider five shillings quite " an outside price" for any musical or dramatic entertainment. The consequence of this is, that the best artists have at

VIU INTRODUCTION.

length learnt wisdom, and decline " to go through so much to (Jq, so little," as the child said about learning his alphabet. (ij / / - , f "^ '

Mary Anderson lately cancelled her Australian engagement, and neither Irving nor Ellen Terry seems likely to make one. A leading Melbourne newspaper, in mentioning the small success of a really fine pianiste who had been giving some musical recitals in that city, added in a patronizing way, " Madame S. is certainly a delightful pianiste, but we do not care much about music just now in Melbourne ; we have had enough of it for the present " — as though a lame man should boast of his infirmity, or a blind man rejoice that he could not see the sun !

The Boston Quartett Society, admitted to be one of the finest in the world, returned bankrupt from a colonial tour, although I believe a Christy Minstrel entertainment drew large houses at the same time.

The enterprising manager of the latter, whom I came across in Tasmania, boasted of his success to me.

"/ know how to fetch them," he said. "None of your sonata and Beethoven business in Australia. It won't go down there. Black a man's face and give him a comic song to sing : that is the only way to draw an audience out here."

I fear there is too much truth in this assertion.

Mechanical head-work, here as elsewhere, is at a terrible discount. There are only three possibilities open to the fortune seeker : —

INTRODUCTION.

(1) Exceptional luck or exceptional shrewdness in speculation ;

(2) Strong muscles for labourers' work ; or

(3) An amount of brain power that would make its mark anywhere, but would rise to the top of the tree here, where the competition of real talent is of course less than with us.

Mediocre ability seems to fare much the same here as in England ; that is to say, it pays its way and does no more. Mind or muscle above par win all the prizes.

Were I a man, with strong physical or mental endowments, I would certaialy choose Australia as the best theatre for the exercise of them; but I would not spend an unnecessary penny in the country.

I should practise strict economy during my years of " exile," and the moment I had " made my pile " should take the first ship back to the old country.

This, by the way, is one of the prettiest things about Australians. Even grey-headed men who have never left their own shores, young men and maidens, all talk of England as "home" or the "old country."

If a man of sixty who has never previously set foot outside of Sydney or Melbourne, sail for England, it is always spoken of as his " going home," — a little bit of poetry that fits in queerly enough with the prose of life out here.

And now, having shown by these remarks, taken in conjunction with my opening sentences, that I am absolutely and hopelessly disqualified as a critic on matters colonial, what

INTRODUCTION.

remains for a thoroughly consistent vjoman to do but herewith commence, or rather continue, her criticisms on the subject ?

I shall, however, pass with a light hand over a country of which I saw little, because I cared less, and after tan-ying a while in the far more home-like and congenial atmosphere of New Zealand, take my readers with me over some beaten tracks in China, Japan, and Alaska ; trusting to the magic of individual experience to shed some new interest over well known scenes.

Every one travels over the whole world nowadays. The unknown, in geography has vanished, as time and space seem to be vanishing in these days of telephones and phonographs.

It is not to what one writes about, but to the way in which one writes about it, that an author must trust nowadays for his success.

Verily " there is nothing new under the sun," but every man and woman can avoid being a bore if he or she will speak and write simply and truthfully of what each one really saw or thought ; without straining after fine effects or correcting individual experience by the light of what other people expect you to say or think, or to have seen, under any given circumstances.

Chapter I. Tasmania

Start for Tasmania — Reasons for avoiding Red Sea route — Shaw Savill line — S.S. Ionic — Cliques on board ship — Conversational difficulties — Entertainments on board — TenerifFe, Santa Cruz, the Peak — A mild dose of the Tropics— The Cape of Good Hope, Table Rock, and the Twelve Apostles — Rough weather at sea — Accidents on board — Poor Jonah ! — Arrival in Hobart Town — Diflficulties of a sea captain's life — A new career suggested for superannuated captains — Mount Wellington — Agricultural possibilities of Tasmania — Absence of men — Social life — " Hen Conventions " — Small-pox outbreak — A honeymoon in quarantine — The domain — Botanical Gardens — Exquisite flowers — A trip to New Norfolk — Salmon preserves — Gorgeous birds — On the Huon River — Tasmanian coal — ■ Franklin — An enterprising young woman — An intelligent jeweller — Hobart Cathedral — A subtle sermon — Sir John Franklin In Memoriam.

Having made up my mind to join the friend with whom I had previously travelled in America, in the Australasian Colonies, I took passage to Hobart, Tasmania, in one of the two direct lines which ply between London, Plymouth, and

New Zealand ; touching at Teneriffe, the Cape of Good Hope, and Hobart en route.

My reason for avoiding the more popular line by the Suez Canal lay in the time of year when I was leaving England.

It seemed to me that the Eed Sea in the month of August must suggest a very "thin sheet of tissue paper" between ourselves and the infernal regions.

There is in fact one ghastly story told (and I have reason to know, an authentic one) of a certain voyage made by one of the Orient line of steamers, when no less than nine unfortunate men and women (including the doctor) succumbed to the terrible heat of the Eed Sea in that month.

This no doubt was a very exceptional case. Still it seemed wiser to be upon the safe side, and I had no reason to regret my choice of the " Shaw, Savill and Albion" line, or the !Fate which carried me on board the Ionic, one of the three steamers chartered by that line from the White Star Company.

Curiously enough — from the bad sailor point of view— this second experience of a White Star steamer, landed me after "forty-two days out" with a perfect immunity from sea-sickness.

Of the voyage itself, I must confess that my recollections are scarcely rose-tinted, in spite of this lucky escape. Cliques are doubtless the invariable and inevitable result of a long sea-voyage. In fact, any old traveller, gifted with observation, who has been on board ship even for a

TASMANIA.

week, will be able to gauge pretty accurately the probable " fortuitous combination of atoms of humanity."

Some trifle — the choice of a seat at dinner, the position of a deck chair next to your own, some small civility exchanged with a fellow passenger — will suffice to begin an acquaintance which may develop into a friendship, and is pretty sure to form the nucleus of a clique. Emerging after breakfast, one naturally foregathers with those to whom one has already spoken ; walks the deck with them and sits near them, when the tropical heat makes walking a nuisance.

A few more, perchance, are added to the charmed circle, and so the much-abused " clique " is formed, and one's companionship for the voyage becomes a fait accompli. Judicious travellers will always take care to make their deck acquaintances apart from those who sit near them in the dining-saloon, or they wiU find a forty-two days' voyage too crucial a test of their conversational powers. It is quite difficult enough to find material for a hundred and forty-six meals, without providing " deck padding " in addition to this.

I remember a dear old lady friend of mine, spending some months in a Roman pension, where she had been given the place of honour next to the lady of the house, requested at last to be allowed to go down to the bottom of the table and work her way up again, so as to relieve them both from the perpetual rechauffe of old subjects of conversation.

B 2

KALEIDOSCOPE.

It seemed to me a daring but grand idea, and might be imitated with advantage on many ocean trips to the relief of all parties concerned.

I should suggest a sort of "general post" every week, and think this would go far to break up some of the too solid lumps of ship society.

The only practical drawback lies in the question of stewards' " tips," but this could be easily arranged through a general dinner and breakfast fund, to be equally divided at the end of the voyage.

Although " cliques " on board are inevitable, still there are cliques and cliques.

Because you find special sympathy with certain human beings in a crowd and prefer their society, it is surely not necessary to glare at the rest of the world as though their very existence were an insult to you ; nor to ignore the courtesies and amenities of life, endeavouring to monopoHze for yourselves or your friends the best of everything that may be going in the way of the most comfortable seats at the various entertainments or the most prominent " parts " in those entertainments.

It is this absence of the courtesy which marks the conduct of well-bred people towards each other, and upon which society hangs, that accounts for much of the heart-burning and many of the disagreeables attending a long voyage with a mixed company.

Ours was almost exclusively a "colonial mixture," and

TASMANIA.

the behaviour of its component parts did not tend to bias one in favour of the country beforehand. Here, as everywhere else, the men of course have the best of it. A man can take shelter from the strife of feminine tongues, in that city of refuge, the " smoking-room," and there philosophize at his ease over the small wars that may be raging down below, even though his own womankind should be foremost in the fray.

Our kind and genial captain certainly did bis best to " resolve " all the discords, and draw the canopy of peace around the whole thirty first-class passengers, but his efforts scarcely met with deserved success.

For the first week, I struggled manfully against the tide, endeavouring to be pleasant and genial to everybody. After that, I recognized the hopelessness of the attempt, and floated with the " English contingent " — almost the only two thorough gentlewomen in our saloon.

When entertainments, musical, dancing, or dramatic, are given on board these ocean steamers, it is customary for the first and second saloon passengers to send reciprocal invitations, and I thought that we might have taken many a lesson in good manners from the latter.

When we gave a concert in our saloon, there seemed to be a general scramble amongst us for the best seats ; whilst our second-class guests were allowed to wander in unwelcomed, and seat themselves as best they might, and often in very inferior places.

G KALEIDOSCOPE.

When they gave an entertainment, all the best seats were left unoccupied until our arrival ; one of the gentlemen stood at the entrance to the saloon to receive and welcome us,, and show us to the best places at his disposal. Surely a practical reminder that money and good manners are oftentimes divorced !

Having left Plymouth on Saturday, August 13th, we sighted Teneriffe about' 6 A.M. on Thursday, August 18th. Unfortunately, Santa Cruz, where we dropped anchor, is the least beautiful part of the island. Orotave, which has become of late years so popular a health resort, is some miles from the port, a hilly and beautiful drive over to the other side of the island.

We landed in small boats, which rocked and tossed in a way to make one appreciate the calm start from Plymouth and the apparent immovabihty of the Ionic. Alas ! appearances are deceitful ! Later we became well acquainted with the rolling powers of our " steady old steamer ! "

At Teneriffe we breakfasted at a small hotel, walked through a hot baking little square, and a dull little hilly town, where ironmongers and basket and straw hat makers seemed to "divide the honours" of manufacture.

The public garden looked mournful and deserted, but a few pretty tropical plants, and shrubs held up their heads in defiance of dust stnd heat, and brightened the scene.

Our few passengers for Orotave were quickly disembarked, some provisions taken in, and we returned to our ship with

TASMANIA.

the curious feeling of relief that one experiences on similar occasions after a few hot tiring hours on shore.

Steaming out of the harhour at noon, we had a grand view of the famous Peak of Teneriffe looming high ahove our heads, and so once more out at sea, and Heigh ho for the Tropics !

I must say the Tropics treated us very well on this occasion. We had certainly four or iive days of uncomfortahle heat, when the daily walks were abandoned, and deck chairs were at a premium, but out of the eight days within this region two or three were positively cool, and I had good reason to congratulate myself on the choice of route.

On Tuesday, September 4th, we sighted the Cape of Good Hope, every passenger on board being up at 6 A.M. or earlier, to watch this most interesting coast-line.

The curiously-shaped mountains known as the " Lion's Head," the " Twelve Apostles," &c., were in turn recognized as we steamed into the bay, whilst high above the town towered the famous Table Rock, whose outline on this perfect summer's morning lay clear and sharp against a cloudless blue sky.

Few are so fortunate as we were, in seeing this curious rock to advantage, for it is generally enveloped in clouds and mist.

Cape Town lies in horse-shoe form round the bay, and under shelter of this rock, and must be extremely hot and relaxing in consequence.

KALEIDOSCOPE.

Far away on the opposite coast stretches the beautiful deep blue, mysterious-looking range of the Kimberley Mountains, losing itself in the dim, dim distance.

This also is the road to the Diamond Mines, and to the famous Weinberg, whence comes the Costantia wine. Unfortunately we had not time to take this drive, which occupies from four to five hours.

So we engaged some very shady-looking hansom cabs, and drove round the dusty hot colonial town, on the Kluft Road.

Sunday seems to be strictly observed here, so the town was empty and forsaken, and we saw little of interest, except some women dressed in grand yellow and green silk dresses with enormous crinolines.

The population appeared to be a motley collection of Dutch Boers, Hottentots, and English.

The " west end " of Cape Town consists of some pretty villa-like houses, stretching far away to the left, as you face the harbour from the town.

The heat on the morning of our visit was intense, although it was only spring-time here. If the summer heat is in any sort of proportion to it, it must be unbearable. I find, however, that the seasons are almost as variable and changeable out here as in Old England, and the experience of one year seems no criterion for the next.

Eeturning to our ship about noon, we sailed for Hobart, eighteen or nineteen days without further sight of land.

After leaving the Cape the weather became rough, cold, and dreary. The constant rolling of the ship is most irritating and trying to the nerves, even when it has no worse results.

To perform a sort of impromptu " sword dance '' amongst bags and portmanteaus in your cabin three or four times a day does not tend to raise the spirits or calm the nerves.

White suits, straw hats, tropical garments in general were laid aside, and every available rug and wrap produced. It is difficult to make people believe or remember that nearly every sea-voyage has a greater proportion, of cold than hot days. Nothing is more difficult than to realize when you are very hot that you will ever again feel very cold, and consequently many people who should know better, start ill prepared to meet the biting winds that are sure to come before the voyage is ended.

Four or five little unprotected children, going to Hobart under charge of the second saloon stewardess, suffered terribly in this way, and would have suffered more had this kind woman not begged and borrowed flannels and shawls from the passengers in their behalf.

They were being sent on to join their father and mother (the former an Enghsh oiHcer) in Tasmania, and I suppose the relations who packed them off must have had rather vague geographical notions. Probably they had heard that Hobart had a fine warm climate, and never remembered the bitter cold of the very southerly route taken by this direct line of steamers.

It was very quaint to see the youngest of the flock, a sweet, dark-eyed little -witch of four years old, trailing about the deck in a " grown-up " Shetland shawl which made quite a long train for her. She was the pet and darling of the whole ship, and a terrible little flirt withal, but we all succumbed to the witchery of her dark eyes and the bribery of her kisses.

Even our most stiff and pompous old Colonial (a very mine of wealth if you could buy him at your price and sell him at his own) unbent when this tiny sorceress clambered on his knee, and I actually heard him one day giving her a true and faithful account of the "little pigs going to market."

The old gentleman had been somewhat of a "gay Lothario " in younger days, and lived upon this reputation, taking great pains to hide the dilapidations of Time under a very lively and devoted manner to the fair sex. So it was rather hard upon him, when the little puss, in return for the history of the pigs, put one caressing tiny hand upon the old beau's few remaining grey hairs, and said, in a patronizing way, " Your hair is heginning to grow ! "

This voyage brought the usual casualties when the rough weather had fairly set in. One afternoon was especially disastrous. One young lady was thrown violently down against tlie bulwarks by a tremendous wave, having her cheek cut completely open just below the line of the eye. A lady's maid was knocked down by the same wave, but escaped with a severe sprain; and a young man standing near them also fell, and was badly strained in the back.

There seems to be a special Providence over children on board ship, but one little girl of five years old had her head cut open by tumbling down the " companion way," one evening when we were all sitting quietly at dinner.

By far the saddest and most serious catastrophe, however, happened to a young Scotch lady on her way to New Zealand to help a married brother and his wife in bringing up a large young family. Paralysis of the optic nerve came on quite suddenly one afternoon, a fortnight after leaving England ; and for the rest of the voyage she had to remain a prisoner in her cabin, with eyes thickly bandaged, and the "dead light" fastened down day and night. Of course we took it in turns to try and relieve the tedium of her existence under these distressing circumstances, but talking in pitch darkness is not an easy matter, and those who are sensitive to "atmospheres" will find their conversational powers at a very low ebb if they are ever forced to make the experiment.

The weather continued so determinedly rough and bad that we began to look with suspicion upon the only cleric on board — a very harmless young curate, going out to the colonies for two years in search of health — who gained the sobriquet of "Jonah" by resenting so deeply the captain's time-honoured joke, of being on the look-out for a whale to devour him, if the waves were not soon "ruled a little straighter."

Poor Jonah ! He was a most kind-hearted and conscientious man, in spite of some little peculiarities, and an overflowing sense of the importance of the priesthood.

It was with real sorrow that I learned some months later that he had fallen a victim to typhoid fever contracted at Melbourne. He died in the general hospital at Dunedin in New Zealand, without one creature near who knew anything of him. The curiously unfortunate part of the business being that I was actually in Dunedin at the time he lay there so ill, and was spending a day with the Bishop ; but by some ill chance did not happen to speak of the hospital, nor hear that a fellow countryman and fellow passenger was dying there.

On the early morning of September 23rd, we sighted at last, the Tasmanian coast having been delayed two days by the strong head winds we had encountered.

Tasmania has a most beautiful, broken up coast-line, and our binoculars were in constant request all day long as we rounded the island, steaming up Storm Bay by the Iron Pot Lighthouse, to the mouth of the Derwent and the Bay of

Hobart.

Unfortunately we did not cast anchor till 9 p.m., when darkness had come on, and so we missed the beautiful approach through the harbour. To the New Zealand passengers, who would have no later opportunity of seeing the harbour, the loss was specially aggravating.

As I was travelling alone to join my friend, the captain had taken me under his kindly care, and promised to see me safely landed. So I let the other passengers for Tasmania land alone, with the eye of faith firmly fixed upon the captain's cabin. Arriving in port means a very busy time for the head of the ship — pilot and agents to be interviewed, innumerable letters to be written and despatched, orders to be given, instructions to be received. It seems to me that a captain requires eyes all round his head, and an extra pair of hands to get through all he has to do, and often in such limited time.

After a wide experience, I have come to the conclusion that to be captain of one of these important lines of ocean steamers is to hold about as difficult a " hand " as can be dealt to one in the game of life. A man who has the enthusiasm of his calling and an unquenchable love of the ocean may find some compensation in these, but on the whole the life must be extremely monotonous, whilst the responsibilities and possible worries and disagreeable risks (apart from risk of life) seem to me out of all proportion to the rewards offered.

If things go wrong, the captain is abused. If one passenger plays practical jokes upon another, the latter "complains to the captain."

When the men quarrel in the smoking-room, or the women in the saloon, the captain is expected to lend a sympathetic ear to the tale of woe from either side.

If he speak more to one lady' than another, the rest resent it ; or, worse still, some fnan (who probably would like to be in his place) resents it still more strongly, and possibly lays a formal complaint before the owners of the ship.

If the captain happens to be musical, and offers to sing or play for the entertainment of the passengers, there are always gnimblers, who "wish to goodness he would stick to his business, and remember he is there to navigate the ship and not to amuse or trouble his head about the passengers."

If, on the contrary, he leaves them entirely to their

own devices, " he is a selfish old bear, and Captain

of the was fifty times pleasanter ; and they will never

sail in Ms ship again."

The cbaracter of the captain of one of these large ships is as fragile and as easily tarnished as that of a woman, or a clergyman.

Once let him become unpopular, and his employers grow dissatisfied. The most trivial and unjust complaints will then receive a hearing, and the risk of loss of employment may stare a man in the face at any moment after years of honest and devoted service in the interest of any given line. No douht this is looking on the dark side of the picture, but the shadows exist and are very real.

To be a dissenting minister at the mercy of a carping congregation doubtless is equally risky, and certainly there is one avenue open to the captain if he be a man of any literary ability. A long life of observation on a passenger steamer should be a glorious school in which to graduate as a novelist. The dramatis personce are there ready to hand, constantly passing before his eyes in ever-shifting combinations ; whilst the whole play is changed, and an entirely new programme published, at least three or four times a year.