Project Gutenberg's The Last Voyage, by Lady (Annie Allnutt) Brassey This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org Title: The Last Voyage to India and Australia, in the 'Sunbeam' Author: Lady (Annie Allnutt) Brassey Illustrator: R.T. Pritchett Release Date: August 24, 2009 [EBook #29778] Language: English Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LAST VOYAGE *** Produced by Steven Gibbs, Linda Cantoni, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net. This project is dedicated to the memory of Steven H. Gibbs, 1938-2009, who provided the scans for this and many other Project Gutenberg eBooks. Transcriber's Note: Many illustration captions are missing from the original. These captions have been added in as they appear in the List of Illustrations, and all captions have been conformed to the List of Illustrations. Some illustrations have been moved so as to avoid breaking up the text; links in the List of Illustrations are to the actual locations of the illustrations. The original contains a number of alternate spellings of proper nouns (e.g., Vasco de Gama for Vasco da Gama; Tawomba for Toowomba; Warrangarra for Wallangarra). These have been preserved as they appear in the original. Otherwise, obvious printer errors have been corrected. Where it is not clear whether something is an error, the questionable text is marked with dotted red underlining, and a pop-up Transcriber's Note has been provided. CONTENTS LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS THE LAST VOYAGE, TO INDIA AND AUSTRALIA, IN THE ‘SUNBEAM.’ BY THE LATE Lady Brassey. ILLUSTRATED BY R.T. PRITCHETT AND FROM PHOTOGRAPHS. The full-page plates and the headings to the chapters are printed in monotone by E. Nister, of Nuremberg. The wood engravings in the text are executed by Edward Whymper, J.D. Cooper, and G. Pearson. PRINTED BY SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE LONDON Track Chart [Enlarge] CHART SHOWING TRACK OF THE YACHT “SUNBEAM” FROM NOV. 1886 TO DEC. 1887. Sunbeam ‘SUNBEAM,’ R.Y.S., CHRISTMAS DAY, 1886 Title Page THE LAST VOYAGE Annie Brassey 1887. Fresh as the first beam glittering on a sail, That brings our friends up from the underworld; Sad as the last which reddens over one That sinks with all we love below the verge; So sad, so fresh, the days that are no more! LONDON: LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO. NEW YORK: 15 EAST 16 STREET 1889 All rights reserved Preface. In giving to the reading world these pages of the last Journal of one of the most popular writers of our day, no apology can be needed, and but little explanation. A word had better perhaps be said, and said here, as to my share in its composition. It is now twelve years ago since my friend—then Mrs. Brassey—asked my advice and assistance in arranging the Diary she had kept during the eleven months' cruise of the 'Sunbeam.' This assistance I gladly gave, and she and I worked together, chiefly at reducing the mass of information gathered during the voyage. I often felt it hard to have to do away with interesting and amusing matter in order to reduce the book even to the size in which it appeared. It was a very pleasant and easy task, and I think the only difference of opinion which ever arose between us was as to the intrinsic merit of the manuscript. No one could have been more diffident than the writer of those charming pages; and it needed all the encouragement which both I and her friend and publisher, Mr. T. Norton Longman, could offer, to induce her to use many of the simple little details of her life, literally 'on the ocean wave.' The success of the 'Voyage of the "Sunbeam"' need not be dwelt on here; it fully justified our opinion, surprising its writer more than any one else by its sudden and yet lasting popularity. Other works, also well received and well known to the public, followed during the next few years, with which I had nothing to do. This last Journal now comes before Lady Brassey's world-wide public, invested with a pathos and sadness all its own. I venture to think that no one can read these pages without admiration and regret; admiration for the courage which sustained the writer amid the weakness of failing health, and regret that the story of a life so unselfish and so devoted to the welfare of others should have ended so soon. On his return home, in December 1887, from this last cruise, Lord Brassey placed in my hands his wife's journals and manuscript notes, knowing that they would be reverently and tenderly dealt with, and believing that, on account of my previous experience with the 'Voyage of the "Sunbeam,"' I should understand better than any one else the writer's wishes. th iii iv My task has been a sad and in some respects a difficult one. Not only do I keenly miss the bright intelligence which on a former occasion made every obscure point clear to me directly, but the notes themselves are necessarily very fragmentary in places. It astonishes me that any diary at all should have been kept amid the enthusiasm which greeted the arrival and departure of the 'Sunbeam' at every port, the hurry and confusion of constant travelling, and, saddest of all, the evidences of daily increasing weakness. Great also has been my admiration for the indomitable spirit which lifted the frail body above and beyond all considerations of self. I need not here call attention to Lady Brassey's devotion to the cause of suffering shown in her unceasing efforts to establish branches of the St. John Ambulance Association all over the world. It will be seen that the last words of the Journal refer to this subject, so near the writer's heart. I have thought it best to allow the mere rough outline diary of the first part of the Indian journey to appear exactly as it stands, instead of attempting to enlarge it, which could have been done from Lord Brassey's notes. But, unhappily, the chief interest now of every word of this volume will consist, not in any information conveyed—for that could easily be supplied from other sources—but in the fact of its being Lady Brassey's own impression jotted hastily down at the moment. After reaching Hyderabad there was more leisure and an interval of better health; consequently each day's record is fuller. After August 29th the brief jottings of the first Indian days are resumed, but I have not felt able to lay these notes before the public, for they are simple records of suffering and helpless weakness, too private and sacred for publication. They extend up to September 10th, only four days before the end. No one but Lord Brassey could take up the story after that date, and it is therefore to his pen that we owe the succeeding pages. All through the Journal I found constant references to what are called in the family the 'Sunbeam Papers,' a journal kept by Lord Brassey and printed for private circulation. With his permission, I have availed myself of these notes wherever I could do so, and I believe that this is what Lady Brassey would have wished. There were also, with the MSS., many interesting newspaper extracts referring to public utterances of Lord Brassey, but of these want of space compels me only to give three, specially alluded to by his wife, which will be found in the Appendix. Lady Brassey had created an extraordinarily intimate and friendly feeling between herself and her readers all over the world. It has been felt in accordance with this mutual and affectionate understanding to give little personal details, and even a memoir compiled by Lord Brassey for his children during the sad days following the 14th of September, to the friendly eyes which will read with regret the last Journal of one who has been their pleasant chronicler and chatty fellow-traveller for so long. It must always seem as if Lady Brassey wrote specially for those who did not enjoy her facilities for going about and seeing everything. I must express my thanks to Lady Brassey's secretaries for the kind help they have afforded me, not only in deciphering MSS., but in verifying dates and names of places. M.A. BROOME. LONDON: March 1888. v vi Contents. CHAPTER PAGE Memoir xiii Introductory Chapter 1 I. Bombay to Jubbulpore 9 II. Hyderabad and Poona 34 III. Bombay 56 IV. Bombay to Goa 73 V. Colombo 97 VI. Rangoon 119 VII. Labuan 155 VIII. Eleopura 175 IX. Celebes 203 X. Western Australia 229 XI. Albany to Adelaide 251 XII. Adelaide 269 XIII. Victoria 287 XIV. New South Wales 309 XV. New South Wales (continued) 325 XVI. Queensland 339 XVII. The East Coast 367 XVIII. East Coast (continued) 391 XIX. Prince of Wales' Island 409 Appendix 427 Index 479 List of Illustrations. FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS. 'Sunbeam,' R.Y.S., Christmas Day, 1886 Frontispiece Port Said Coaling-Party To face page 1 Elephanta Caves " 18 Peshawur Coal-Depot " 26 En Route to Hunt Black-Buck with Cheetah " 40 Patiala Elephants: the Drive " 62 vii ix Religious Festival, Malabar Point " 70 Benares and the Sacred Ganges " 84 Moulmein, from the River " 132 Singapore, Entrance to Harbour " 140 Sarawak, Borneo: Opposite the Rajah's Fort " 148 Fishing-Stakes, Sarawak River " 162 Entrance to Bird's-Nest Caves, Madai " 184 Fording the Stream for Madai " 196 Kina Balu, 13,700 feet " 210 Bad Weather, West Coast of Australia " 226 Tree-Ferns, Australia " 244 North Head, Sydney Harbour " 306 Aborigines in Camp " 370 Ant-Hills, Queensland, Australia " 422 ILLUSTRATIONS IN TEXT. PAGE Title-page Eventide xiii Evening Prayer 1 Portsmouth, H.M.S. 'Hercules' 2 Tanks at Aden 3 Kurrachee Harbour 5 The Mirs Falconer 5 Bokhara Man 6 Going to Dinner 6 Our Home on Wheels 7 Jubilee Illuminations, Bombay 9 Crossing the Indus 10 Shikarpur Bazaar 11 Sukhur Bridge, Indus 12 Old Sukhur 13 Temple of the Sun, Mooltan 14 Runjeet Singh's Tomb, Lahore 15 Cañon, Murree 16 Afghans at Jamrud 17 Jamrud Fort 18 Camel-guns and Standard 18 Cabul Native, Lahore 19 x Lahore 19 Camel Team 20 Amritsar 20 Patiala Elephants 21 'Cross-country 22 Elephants Drinking 22 Mounting 22 The Kutub Minar 23 Base of Kutub Minar 24 Old Delhi and Weapons 25 Ulwar 26 Palace in the Ulwar Fort 27 Sar-Bahr, Gwalior 28 Group of Natives 29 Water-carrier, Benares 30 Nerbudda River—Marble Rocks 31 Meari, the Last of the Thugs 31 Temple at Ellora 32 The Fort, Poonah 34 Gun Rock 36 One-Tree Hill 37 Mir Alam, Hyderabad 38 Cheetah-cart 40 Death of the Buck 41 Mosque Entrance 44 The Hamyan Jump, Delhi 48 No Coal 51 Interior, Delhi 53 Bengal Lancer—Rawul Pindi 56 The Ghauts, Bombay 58 Bodyguard and Peon, Malabar Point 60 The Apollo Bunder 65 Bombay Harbour 67 Omnibus-horse Tope 68 Hindoo Girl 69 At the Children's Ball 70 The Arch of the Viceroys, Goa 73 Jinjeera Fort 75 Off Ratnagiri 77 Vingora Rocks 79 Vingora Lighthouse 81 Portuguese Rowlock 82 Cape Goa Entrance 83 St. Xavier, Goa 87 Inquisition Stake, Goa 89 View in Ceylon 97 Buddhist Priest 99 Talipot Palm 101 Seychelles Palm 103 Governor's Peon, Kandy 104 Cingalese Weapons 105 Point de Galle 106 Trincomalee Harbour 108 Jumping Fish (Periophthalmus Kolreuteri) 110 Sami Rock 114 Coco Island Light 116 Entrance to Caves at Moulmein 119 Merchant Dhows, Indian Ocean 120 Great Pagoda Court 122 Entrance to Temple 123 Dagon 125 Rangoon Boat, Stern 126 Ditto Stem 127 Moulmein 129 Elephants at Work 130 Ditto 131 Moulmein River Boat 132 On the Irrawaddy 133 Entrance to Moulmein Caves 135 Ferry at Morcenatin 136 Point Amherst, Water Temple 138 Bound South 139 Traveller's Palm, Singapore 142 Junks, Singapore 144 Navigation Boards, River Kuching 146 Fire-tube 148 Dyak 149 Kuching 152 The Fort 153 Labuan 155 Malay Village, Labuan 158 Brunei Hats 161 xi Pangeran's Arrival 164 Pitcher Plants and Kina Balu 169 Kudat 171 On the Fore-yard, making the Land 173 In the Bird's-Nest Caves, Madai 175 Mr. Flint's Bungalow 177 Kapuan Timber-station 179 Dyak Dance 181 Borneo Weapons 184 Sandakan, bearing N. 185 Entering River, Madai 187 Commissariat Department 189 Return of the Head-Hunter 192 Sulus at Silam 198 Returning at Low Water 199 Dutch Fort, Macassar 203 The Shooting Party 207 Under the Sun 209 Our Coachman, Macassar 211 Dutch (Native) Soldiers 212 Macassar Policeman 213 Fishing-boat, Allas Strait 216 Our Wind-bob 218 More Bad Weather 220 Topmast Stunsails 223 Effect of a Squall 225 Fauna, W. Australia 229 Kingia 233 Black-Boys 236 A Breakdown in the Bush 243 Boomerangs or Kylies 249 Getting under way 251 An Aboriginal 254 The Port Watch 257 Running Down—Easting 260 Cracking on 261 Proclamation-Tree, Glenelg 264 'Protector' Gunboat 267 Sunset 269 Adelaide 272 Stypandra umbellata 275 On the Murray River 278 xii A Buckboard 280 Ballarat 282 Miners' Camp 284 Exhibition Buildings, Melbourne 287 Victoria Defence Fleet 289 Lancers and Soudan Contingent 292 Selectors 296 Ferns 302 A Forest Bridge 304 Sydney Harbour 307 Banksias, &c., New South Wales 309 Summer Hill Creek 313 Waterfall Gully 318 Katoomba 320 Cook's Monument, Botany Bay 323 Signal Station, Newcastle 325 Kangaroo-foot (Arrigozanthus) 327 Cattle crossing the Darling River 333 Sheep crossing River 335 Off the Track 337 Rockhampton Lilies 339 Fern Forest 341 German Waggon 346 Turpentine-Tree 348 Crinum asiaticum 349 Ti-Trees 355 Mount Morgan 357 The Ford 363 Native Weapons, Queensland 366 Balloon Canvas 367 Stowing Foretopsail 371 Queensland Natives 373 Cardwell School House 375 Dead Crocodile on Snag 378 The Train in the Bush 382 Zamoa Tree 384 On the Johnstone River 387 Navigators 389 Thursday Island 391 Cooktown 393 Coral on Pearl-oyster 396 Drum from Murray Island 402 Hammer-headed Oyster 404 Claremont Island Lightship 406 The Last Mill in Australia 408 Port Darwin 409 Darnley Island; the Shore 413 Ditto 416 Curios from Murray Island 420 In the Torres Straits 423 Church on Darnley Island 425 St. Louis, Mauritius 429 Off the Cape 432 St. Helena 435 Longwood, St. Helena 437 Ascension. Green Mountain 439 Sierra Leone 441 Barque Hove-to 443 Pico 444 Bearing up for Shelter 445 Tailpiece. Track Chart To follow Half-title Map of India To face page 72 Eventide Eventide FOR MY CHILDREN. A BRIEF MEMOIR OF THEIR DEAR MOTHER. 'The greatest benefit which one friend can confer upon another is to guard, and excite, and elevate his virtues. This your mother xiii will still perform if you diligently preserve the memory of her life and of her death.... 'There is something pleasing in the belief that our separation from those whom we love is only corporeal.... 'Here is one expedient by which you may, in some degree, continue her presence. If you write down minutely what you remember of her from your earliest years, you will read it with great pleasure, and receive from it many hints of soothing recollections, when time shall remove her yet further from you, and your grief shall be matured to veneration.' Dr. Johnson. My dear Children,—In sorrow and grief I have prepared a sketch of the life and character of your dearly loved mother, whom it has pleased God to call to Himself. Slight and imperfect as it is, it may hereafter help to preserve some tender recollections, which you would not willingly let die. I shall begin with her childhood. Her mother having died in her infancy, for some years your dear mother lived, a solitary child, at her grandfather's house at Clapham. Here she acquired that love of the country, the farm, and the garden which she retained so keenly to the last. Here she learned to ride; and here, with little guidance from teachers, she had access to a large library, and picked up in a desultory way an extensive knowledge of the best English, French, German, and Italian literature. After a few years' residence at Clapham, your grandfather moved to Chapel Street, Grosvenor Place, and later to the house which you remember in Charles Street. At this period your mother's education was conducted by her attached and faithful governess, Miss Newton, whom you all know. She attended classes, but otherwise her life must have been even more solitary in London than at Clapham. Her evenings were much devoted to Botany, and by assiduous application she acquired that thorough knowledge of the science which she found so useful later, in describing the profuse and varied vegetation of the tropics. And now I come to my engagement to your mother. How sweet it is to remember her as she was in those young days; in manners so frank and unaffected, and full of that buoyant spirit which to the end of her life never flagged. She enjoyed with a glad heart every pleasure. She was happy at a ball, happy on her horse, happy on the grouse-moor, devoted to her father, a favourite with all her relatives, and very, very sweet to me. Gladness of heart, thankfulness for every pleasure, a happy disposition to make the best of what Providence has ordered, were her characteristics. We were married in October 1860. After our marriage we had everything to create—our home, our society, our occupations. We began life at Beauport; and wonderfully did your dear mother adapt herself to wholly unanticipated circumstances. Beauport became a country home for our nearest relations on both sides. As a girl, your mother had been a most loving daughter to her own father. After her marriage she was good and kind to my parents. To my brothers, until they were old enough to form happy homes of their own, she was an affectionate sister. xiv xv At the date of our marriage, no definite career had opened out for me. To follow my father's business was not considered expedient, and I had no commanding political influence. In the endeavour to help me to obtain a seat in Parliament, your dear mother displayed a true wife-like devotion. She worked with an energy and earnestness all her own, first at Birkenhead in 1861, and later at Devonport and Sandwich— constituencies which I fought unsuccessfully—and my return for Hastings in 1868 afforded her the more gratification. It had been the custom in the last-named constituency to invite the active assistance of ladies, and especially the wives of the candidates, in canvassing the electors. Your mother readily responded to the call. She soon became popular among the supporters of the Liberal party, and throughout my connection with Hastings she retained the golden opinions which she had so early won. Her nerve, high spirit, and ability, under the fierce ordeal of the petition against my return, have been described in his memoirs by Serjeant Ballantine, who conducted my case. He called your mother as his first witness for the defence, put one or two questions, and then handed her wholly unprepared to the counsel for the petitioners— the present Lord Chancellor. With unflinching fortitude your mother endured a cross- examination lasting for upwards of an hour. Her admirable bearing made a great impression upon the eminent judge (Mr. Justice Blackburn) who tried the case, and won the sympathies of the dense crowd of spectators. I remember how gratefully your mother acknowledged the mercy of Heaven in that crisis of her life. 'I could not have done it unless I had been helped,' were her simple words to me. Down to the latest election in which I was engaged, your dear mother, in the same spirit of personal devotion to her husband, wrought and laboured in the political cause. I have put her love for me as the prime motive for her efforts in politics; but she had too much intelligence not to form a judgment of her own on public issues. Her sympathies were instinctively on the side of the people, in opposition to the old- fashioned Toryism, so much more in vogue a quarter of a century ago than it is to-day. In helping me to hold a seat in Parliament, your dear mother was inflicting upon herself a privation very hard to bear. Owning to the rapid changes in all the circumstances of our lives, it was difficult to preserve old associations. In the midst of new environments, to make her way alone was a great strain. It is some consolation to know what happiness I gave when, upon my release from the urgent demands of Parliamentary and official life, I was able to spend much of my time in her dear society. It is sad that this happy change should have come so late. In addition to the share which she took in my Parliamentary labours, your mother undertook the exclusive management at home. This responsibility was gradually concentrated in her hands, owing to my long service in the House of Commons, combined with exceptionally heavy extra-Parliamentary work, finally culminating in my holding office at the Admiralty for more than five years. How we shall miss her in everything! specially in the task of arranging in the museum, now near completion, the combined collections of our many journeys! She had so looked forward to being able to bring together these collections in London; one of her objects being to afford instruction and recreation to the members of the Working Men's Clubs, to whom she proposed to give constant facilities of access to the collection. The same spirit, which made your dear mother my helpmeet in my public life, xvi xvii sustained her, at the sacrifice of every personal predilection, in constant companionship with her husband at sea. She bore the misery of sea-sickness without a murmur or complaint. Fear in storm and tempest she never knew. She made yachting, notwithstanding its drawbacks, a source of pleasure. At Cowes she was always on deck, card in hand, to see the starts in the various matches. At sea she enjoyed the fair breezes, and took a deep interest in estimating the daily run, in which she was generally wonderfully exact. She had a great faculty for seamanship, and knew as well as anybody on board what should be done and what was being done on deck. The same eager sympathy with every interest and effort of mine led your dear mother to help me as President of the Working Men's Club and Institute Union. She attended the meetings, distributed the prizes, and on one occasion entertained the members and their friends at Normanhurst. Upwards of a thousand came down from London, and were addressed by Lord Houghton and by M. Waddington, the French Ambassador. She also did all she could to encourage the Naval Artillery Volunteers. For years she attended inspections and distributed prizes on board the 'President' and the 'Rainbow.' She was always present at the annual service in Westminster Abbey. She witnessed the first embarkation in a gunboat at Sheerness. She carried through all the commissariat arrangements for the six hundred naval volunteers who were brought together from London, Liverpool, and Bristol for the great review at Windsor, sleeping under canvas for three nights in our encampment, and personally and most efficiently superintending every detail. The men were enthusiastic in their appreciation of her efforts. The same interest was shown in my naval work. Your dear mother accompanied me frequently in my visits to the dockyard towns at home and abroad, attended naval reviews, and was present at the manœuvres on the coast of Ireland in 1885, and in Milford Haven in 1886. At home and abroad she always aided most cordially my desire to establish kindly relations with the naval profession, among whom she numbered, I am sure, not a few sincere friends. The same spirit of sympathy carried your mother with me on dreary and arduous journeys to Ireland, where she paid several visits to the Lough Swilly estates. She called personally on every tenant, asked them to visit the 'Sunbeam,' treated them most kindly, and won their hearts. Her reception of the Colonial visitors to England last year, when suffering from severe illness, and the visits to the Colonies, which were the last acts of her life, are the most recent proofs which your dear mother was permitted to give of her genuine sympathy with everything that was intended for the public good. The reception which she met with in Australia afforded gratifying assurances of the wide appreciation of her high-minded exertions on the part of our Colonial friends. The last day of comparative ease in your mother's life was spent at Darnley Island. You remember the scene: the English missionaries, the native teacher with his congregation assembled around him, the waving cocoa-nuts, the picturesque huts on the beach, the deep blue sea, the glorious sunshine, the beauty and the peace. It was a combination after your mother's heart, which she greatly enjoyed, resting tranquilly under the trees, fanned by the refreshing trade-wind. You will remember her marked kindness of manner in giving encouragement to the missionaries in their work. It was another instance of her broad sympathies. In attempting to give a description of your dear mother's fine character, I cannot xviii