CHAPTER VI

.

Voyage to the Island of Bourbon.--The Mauritius.--Wealth of the Island.--The City of Port Louis.--Manner of Life among the Inhabitants.--Indian Servants.--Grand Dinners.--Country Houses.--Creole Hospitality.

I made the voyage from the Cape to the Mauritius in the handsome and entirely new steamer “Governor Higginson,” Captain French, of 150-horse power. The vessel had been built in shares, Mr. Lambert being the chief shareholder. He refused to let me pay for my passage, and would not have allowed me to do so even had he not possessed a single share. He declared that I was now his guest, and must remain so till I finally left the Mauritius.

Our voyage of 2400 sea-miles to the Mauritius was very prosperous. The sea was certainly stormy when we set sail, and we had to struggle much against contrary winds; still, it was said that no other steamer had ever made so quick a passage.

Except some small water-spouts, we saw nothing remarkable till we reached the island of Bourbon.

On this steamer I learned the amount of the current expenses of navigation. Without reckoning coals, it exceeds £500 per month. The crew consisted of forty-seven persons. The consumption of coal was about twenty-five tons in twenty-four hours. These coals are in some places exceedingly dear; at the Cape, for instance, where they cost £2 10_s._ per ton.

On the morning of the 1st of December we discovered land, and in the afternoon cast anchor in the little-known harbor of St. Denis, the capital of the island of Bourbon.

This pretty little island, also called Ile de la Réunion, lies between the Mauritius and Madagascar, in latitude 20° 21° south, and longitude 52° 53° east. It is forty English miles in length by thirty in breadth, and has about 200,000 inhabitants. Discovered in 1545 by Mascarenhas, a Portuguese, it was occupied by the French in 1642; from 1810 to 1814 it was under English dominion, and since that time it has been a French possession.

Ile de Bourbon has lofty chains of mountains and plains of considerable extent, stretching parallel with the sea-coast. The flats are planted with the sugar-cane, which flourishes here famously, and gives the whole island an appearance of luxuriant verdure.

The town of St. Denis is built far out into the sea, and surrounded by evergreen trees and gardens. In the background rises a hill, crowned by a palatial edifice, which I at first took for the governor’s residence; but it has been built for a nobler purpose--it is the hospital. The Catholic church also stands upon the hill, and against its foot leans a long building of only one story, and with handsome rows of pillars, which make it look like a Roman aqueduct; but, on a nearer inspection, one detects windows and doors, and the place turns out to be the barracks. The whole picture is closed in by a chain of mountains, which divides into two parts, and affords a magnificent glimpse of a deep gorge thickly shaded with plants and trees. All this I saw from the steamer’s deck, for we only staid here a few hours, and these were passed in the usual formalities--the visit of the physician, the officials from the post-office and custom-house, etc. The business was no sooner over than the steam began to puff and gurgle, the wheels were put in motion, and we were off to the island of Mauritius, a hundred miles away.

Next morning we had not only long lost sight of Bourbon, but the Mauritius lay before us; and in the afternoon our steamer anchored in the safe harbor of Port Louis, the capital of the island. But three hours passed before we landed, and I took up my quarters in Mr. Lambert’s country house.

The island of Mauritius, seen from the sea, presents a similar aspect to Bourbon, only that the mountains are higher, and are piled up in successive chains. The town has not so picturesque an appearance as St. Denis; it wants the fine stately buildings which give such an imposing effect to the latter place.

The Mauritius, formerly called “Ile de France,” is situate in the southern hemisphere, between latitude 19° 20°, and longitude 54° 55°. It is thirty-seven miles long by twenty-eight broad, and has a population of 180,000.

Like Bourbon, the Mauritius belongs to Africa. It was taken possession of by the Dutch in 1570, but is said to have been discovered earlier by the Portuguese Mascarenhas. The Dutch gave it the name “Mauritius,” but left the island in 1712. Three years afterward the French took possession, and called the island “Ile de France.” In 1810 the English conquered it, and have kept it ever since. They have also restored its old name of Mauritius.

The island was uninhabited at its first discovery. The whites introduced slaves--negroes, Malabar Indians, and Malagaseys, from whose intermarriages all kinds of shades of color and nationality arose. Since the abolition of slavery in the year 1835, almost all the working-people have come from India. The Anglo-Indian government makes contracts for five years with people who wish to hire themselves out in the Mauritius; at the expiration of that time they have to apply to the government in the Mauritius, at whose cost they are sent back to their own country. Those who fail to report themselves lose their right to a free passage.

The hirer must pay to the government for each laborer two pounds the first year, and one pound every year following; this money covers the expense of the passage out and home. To the laborer himself he has to give five or six rupees a month, and board and lodging. This scale only applies to common laborers; for cooks, artisans, and skilled workmen, the wages are much higher, rising according to their capacity.

I found the inhabitants of the Mauritius in a state of great excitement. Intelligence had lately arrived from Calcutta that the exportation of coolies, or laborers, was forbidden, as it had been alleged that the men were very badly treated in quarantine, which they are compelled to keep on account of the cholera. They say, however, that the government here is to redress the quarantine grievances with all due care, and they therefore hope the prohibition will soon be relaxed. If this is not done, the island will be threatened with ruin in a few years.

At present it is in the most flourishing condition; the income which this little island yields, not only to the planters, but to the government, is perhaps larger, in proportion to its extent, than the amount yielded by any other territory whatever. In the year 1855, for instance, 2,500,000 cwt. of sugar were grown, the value being £1,777,428 sterling. The revenue of the government for the same year amounted to £348,452. The expenses were much less than the income; and as this is the case nearly every year, and the surplus is not sent to England, but remains in the country, the treasury is always well filled. At the present time it is reported to contain £300,000; and with every year the wealth of this fortunate island increases. In the year 1857 the revenue increased by £100,000, this great sum being raised solely by the new duty on spirituous liquors. That the inhabitants partake of this prosperity is proved by the difference between the exports and imports. In the year 1855, the former exceeded the latter by half a million sterling. Could the same be said of some of our great European states?

The government officials are exceedingly well paid, but not nearly so well as in British India, though the expenses of living are much greater here. The reason is, that the climate of India is considered very unhealthy for Europeans, while that of the Mauritius is salubrious enough. The governor has a house, and £6000 a year salary.

Mr. Lambert’s country house, “Les Pailles,” to which I proceeded, is seven miles from the town, in the district of Mocca. The whole island is divided into eleven districts.

At my kind host’s I found every thing heart could desire--handsome rooms, good living, numerous servants, and the greatest independence; for Mr. Lambert drove to town every morning, and frequently did not return till the evening.

After a few days’ rest I began my wanderings through the island.

First of all, I visited the town of Port Louis. There was little enough to be seen in it. Though of tolerable size (it has a population of 50,000), it possesses not a single fine public building, with the exception of the government house and the bazar. The private houses, too, are generally small, and never exceed one story in height. The bridge across the big river--frequently so destitute of water that it can be easily forded--is built tastefully enough, only they have been so sparing of its breadth that only one carriage can go across at a time; when two meet, one has to wait till the other has passed. Governments seem to act very much like private people: so long as they have little money, or, indeed, are in debt, they are generous, and even extravagant; but from the moment when they become prosperous they grow saving and avaricious. At least this seems to be the case with the government of the Mauritius, which is much more stingy, with its well-filled chest, than our European states that are burdened with debt. Does it not show a miserable want of spirit to have such a narrow bridge in the busiest part of the town?

Two other bridges of hewn stone fairly fell in during my stay; fortunately, no one was hurt. Each governor thinks only of filling the treasury; his greatest pride is in being able to say that under his rule the surplus of income over expenditure had increased by so many thousand pounds. Acting on this principle, the present governor objected strongly to the estimates given in for the building of the two bridges, ordered that they should be constructed at a cheaper rate, and--has the pleasure of building them twice over.

The town possesses a public walk, called the “Champ de Mars,” which is, however, little frequented, and a theatre, in which a French company perform.

The rich people generally live in their country houses, and only come to town for the day.

The mode of life among Europeans and Creoles (under the latter term are understood people born on the island of white parents) is similar to that in the British or Dutch Indies. At sunrise we refreshed ourselves with a cup of coffee, brought into the bedroom; between nine and ten the bell summoned us to a breakfast of rice, curry, and a few hot dishes; and at one came a luncheon of fruit or bread and cheese. The chief meal was taken in the evening, generally after seven o’clock.

Living is very dear here. House rent, the better kind of provisions, servants’ wages, etc., are paid for at very high prices. The simplest establishment of a respectable family with three or four children costs from thirty-five to forty-five pounds per month. The staff of servants, though much smaller than in an Indian household, is as much in excess of a European one. Families who make little appearance must keep a footman, a cook, a man for carrying water and cleaning the crockery, another to wash the linen, and a couple of boys from twelve to fourteen years old. The lady of the house has, besides, a maid for herself and one or more for the children, according to their number. Those who have carriages keep a coachman for each pair of horses. The monthly wages of servants are from thirty to thirty-six shillings for a man-cook; twenty-four to thirty shillings for a footman or maid; and forty-five to ninety shillings for a coachman. Quite a common helper gets at least eighteen shillings, and the boys six shillings and their clothes: lodging is found for them, but not board. In British India fewer rupees are paid than dollars here. Domestics do not pay more for their board than four shillings a month at the most; they live on rice and red pepper, vegetables, and a few fishes, and these articles they can get for almost nothing. The servants perform their offices worse there than in any country I know, except perhaps at Amboyna in the Moluccas. Every where the visitor must bring his own servants; for if, for instance, he goes into the country and has no attendants with him, he stands a very good chance of finding his bed unmade and his water-jug empty at night. The poor housewives have great difficulty in keeping their houses in any thing like order. In India they are much better off: there the chief of the servants bears the lofty title of “major-domo,” and has the supervision of all household details. All the articles in use in the domestic economy--the plate, linen, and china--are intrusted to his keeping. He is responsible for the safety of all; he superintends the servants--reckons with them, cashiers one and engages another. If cause of discontent should arise, application is at once made to the major-domo. But here the lady of the house must herself undertake this arduous office; and as the Creole ladies are not remarkable for carefulness and love of order, it may be imagined that the interior arrangements of all households are not in the best state. I would not counsel any visitor rashly to set foot in any but the reception-room.

Social intercourse does not flourish in the Mauritius. There is not even a club here: the chief reason may be that the society consists of French and English in almost equal numbers--two nations whose characters and modes of thinking vary too much ever to amalgamate freely.

Besides this chief obstacle, there are other minor hinderances; for instance, the late dinner-hour, and the great distances between the various houses. As I have observed, the usual dinner-hour is between seven and eight o’clock, and thus the whole evening is lost. In other hot countries, when it is customary for people to live in country houses outside the town, the gentlemen generally come home from their business at five o’clock, and dine at six, so that at seven people are ready to receive visitors and friends.

But here all visits are paid before dinner, as it is too late to do so afterward, and whoever wants to assemble a few people for the evening must invite them solemnly to dinner. These dinners are conducted with great ceremony. Every one appears in full dress, the officials generally in uniform, as if they had received an invitation to court. At table, one is frequently seated between two perfect strangers, and after suffering the horrors of ennui for hours, a move is made at past nine o’clock into the reception-rooms, there to suffer ennui for some time longer. Music is very seldom introduced. Packs of cards are every where displayed on the tables, but I never saw them used. Every guest seems to be waiting with impatience for the time when he may take his leave without appearing rude: he is devoutly thankful when the evening has come to an end, and then accepts the next invitation with the greatest pleasure.

These dinners do not take place very often; for, ready as the good folks are to put up with the dreary ennui in consideration of the good company and the well-furnished table, the generous giver of the feast has to remember that each cover costs him at least from eighteen to twenty-four shillings. Nor is the thirst of his honored guests to be appeased on easier terms; for Frenchmen and Englishmen are alike judges of good grape-juice, and the Mauritius would be no English colony if the rarest wines of Europe had not found their way there.

If the fortunate guest be not the fortunate possessor of a carriage and horses, a dinner of this kind puts him to some expense likewise; for he has generally four, or six, or more English miles to go, and the hire of a coach costs fifteen shillings at least.

There is more hospitality to be met with in the country than in the town, but its practice is not universal. I received many invitations, among the rest one from the governor, Mr. Higginson, who has a country house at “Reduit,” seven miles from the capital. Most of these invitations I declined, particularly those in which I suspected more etiquette than real friendliness. I have never been an advocate of ceremonious visits and stiff parties, but a small circle of kind, educated persons I am always glad to join. In this respect I was gratified in some houses, particularly in those of the English families Kerr and Robinson, who lived in the Mocca district.

Mr. Kerr had lived long in Austria, and with the language he had acquired all the friendly ways of my dear countrymen; and his wife, too, was quite free from the proverbial English reticence. I came to this friendly family with all my little requests, and felt really at home with them. The Robinsons were also very good, friendly people, and musical withal.

The district of Mocca has an advantage over the other divisions of the island in its agreeable climate, especially in that part distant five or six miles from the town, where the land rises a thousand feet above the sea-level.

The region around is very romantic. The volcanic mountains exhibit themselves in the strangest shapes. The vegetation is most luxuriant. A peculiarity which I rarely noticed in the other districts was the presence of deep, broad clefts, forming gorges or defiles. I explored several of these; among others, one on a little plateau near Mr. Kerr’s country house. It varied from eighty to two hundred feet in depth, and was about forty feet broad at the bottom; at the top the breadth was much more considerable. The sides were richly decked with stately trees, graceful shrubs, and climbing plants, while below, a foaming crystal streamlet, rushing onward, formed several pretty cascades.

One of the finest views, perhaps, in the whole island is to be obtained from Bagatelle, Mr. Robinson’s country seat. On one side the eye rests upon picturesque mountains, on the other it roams over fields luxuriant in verdure, stretching over a sunny plain to the boundless ocean. It is said that on a clear day the island of Bourbon can be discerned from this point.

Of all the country seats I saw in the Mauritius, those of Mr. Robinson and Mr. Barclay seemed to me the handsomest. The dwelling-houses are surrounded by parks and gardens tastefully laid out, where tropical flowers, shrubs, and trees (particularly beautiful palm-trees) are seen in close community with the European plant-world. In Mr. Robinson’s garden we had peaches as fine as any in Germany or France.

The houses of these two gentlemen stand in very advantageous contrast to the other houses in the island. The rooms are high and spacious, the arrangements very convenient; order and cleanliness reign every where.

These praises, unfortunately, can not be extended to the country houses of the Creoles. To speak frankly, I mistook most of the latter establishments for the dwellings of poor peasants. They are generally built of wood, are very small and low, and very much hidden by bushes; one would never believe that rich people are to be found living in these hovels.

The interior arrangements are quite in conformity with the exterior. The reception-room, and perhaps the dining-room, are passable; but the sleeping-rooms are so small that one or two beds and a few chairs fill them completely. And this in the Mauritius, a country where the heat is oppressive, and lofty and roomy apartments almost a necessity! To fill up the measure of inconvenience, many people have had the odd fancy of

## partly roofing their houses with white metal. The visitor who is

unfortunate enough to be lodged in a room just under one of these roofs can form a lively idea of the sufferings endured by the unhappy captives of old in the lead-roofed prisons of Venice. Every time my unlucky destiny led me into such a house, I looked forward with terror to the night, which I was sure to pass in sleepless discomfort, burning with heat, and half stifled for want of air. In Ceylon the roofs are also sometimes covered with lead or zinc; but the houses are much more lofty, and the metal is not exposed to the burning rays of the sun, but covered with wood or straw.

I found many of the houses in such a dilapidated condition, and so tottering in appearance, that I marveled greatly at the courage of the people who dared to inhabit them; for my part, I am not ashamed to confess that I feared every gust of wind would blow the house to pieces, the more so as the winds in the Mauritius are very violent, and there are frequent hurricanes. The worthy Creoles quoted these same winds and hurricanes as an excuse for the mean architecture of their hovel-like homes, declaring that loftier buildings would be unable to resist the storm. If they were as badly built as these huts, certainly; but the country houses of Mr. Barclay and Mr. Robinson have always held their own against wind and storm, though they are lofty and spacious, and have been built many years.

I have often noticed that there is more true hospitality in the country than in towns; but the rule will not apply universally, as I found by personal experience. For though, in the houses of such worthy people as Mr. Kerr, Mr. Robinson, and Mr. Lambert, I felt thoroughly at home, it sometimes happened, on the other hand, that I allowed myself to be tempted by the seeming friendship of Creoles to accept invitations involving disagreeable consequences, which made me rejoice greatly when I regained my freedom.

Persons of high position and great influence must, of course, every where be received with consideration, but strangers and ordinary guests, from whom there is nothing to be expected, are sometimes very cavalierly treated in these parts. There is enough to eat and drink, but a “plentiful lack” of every thing besides. The unimportant guests are lodged in the “pavilion,” a little hut frequently a hundred yards distant from the dwelling-house, necessitating a pleasant walk in the rain or in the broiling sunshine every time the family assembles for a meal; and as the main building itself is generally ruinous, the state of the pavilion may easily be imagined.

That delectable retreat generally consists of two or three little rooms, where neither door nor windows can be induced to shut, where the rain beats in through the broken panes, where the lock of the entrance-door is so rusty that the door must be barricaded from within, or every gust of wind would blow it open. Each of the little rooms is provided with a bed, a rickety table, and one or two chairs. Of a cupboard I never saw a trace. My clothes and linen could never be unpacked, and I was obliged to stoop and unlock my boxes whenever I wanted the most trifling article.

But these discomforts would have been of little moment if any friendliness or readiness to oblige on the part of host or hostess had made amends. Unfortunately, such readiness is rarely found. In most houses the guest is left to himself all day long. No one takes any trouble about him, or cares to do any thing to make the time pass pleasantly. Nearly every establishment boasts five or six horses; but these are intended exclusively for the master of the house, or perhaps for his sons. The guest is never offered the use of them, and the lady of the house herself is seldom able to say, “I will take a drive to-day.”

Even the luxury of a cold bath, necessary as it is to health in a hot climate like that of the Mauritius, I found unattainable except when it rained. Then, indeed, I had it perforce--in my bedroom; for the roof was generally so ruinous that the water poured in on all sides.

##