CHAPTER V

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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.

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