Chapter 29
Conclusion
The ship was the Principe Umberto, bound from Callao to Genoa; she had carried a number of emigrants to Rio, had gone thence to Callao, where she had taken in a cargo of guano, and was now on her way home. The captain was a certain Giovanni Gianni, a native of Sestri; he has kindly allowed me to refer to him in case the truth of my story should be disputed; but I grieve to say that I suffered him to mislead himself in some important particulars. I should add that when we were picked up we were a thousand miles from land.
The ship was the Principe Umberto, sailing from Callao to Genoa. It had carried a number of emigrants to Rio, then sailed to Callao, where it took on a cargo of guano. It was now on its way home. The captain was a man named Giovanni Gianni, a native of Sestri. He has kindly allowed me to refer anyone who doubts my story to him. But I am sorry to say that I allowed him to mislead himself about some important details. I should add that we were a thousand miles from land when we were picked up.
As soon as we were on board, the captain began questioning us about the siege of Paris, from which city he had assumed that we must have come, notwithstanding our immense distance from Europe. As may be supposed, I had not heard a syllable about the war between France and Germany, and was too ill to do more than assent to all that he chose to put into my mouth. My knowledge of Italian is very imperfect, and I gathered little from anything that he said; but I was glad to conceal the true point of our departure, and resolved to take any cue that he chose to give me.
As soon as we boarded, the captain began asking us about the siege of Paris. He had assumed we came from Paris, even though we were a huge distance from Europe. As you might expect, I had not heard a word about the war between France and Germany. I was too ill to do more than agree with everything the captain suggested. My Italian is far from fluent, and I understood little of what he said. But I was glad to hide where we had really come from, and decided to follow whatever lead he gave me.
The line that thus suggested itself was that there had been ten or twelve others in the balloon, that I was an English Milord, and Arowhena a Russian Countess; that all the others had been drowned, and that the despatches which we had carried were lost. I came afterwards to learn that this story would not have been credible, had not the captain been for some weeks at sea, for I found that when we were picked up, the Germans had already long been masters of Paris. As it was, the captain settled the whole story for me, and I was well content.
The story that occurred to me was that ten or twelve others had been in the balloon. I was an English lord, and Arowhena was a Russian Countess. All the others had drowned, and the dispatches we carried had been lost. I later learned that this story would not have been believable if the captain had not been at sea for some weeks. I discovered that the Germans had already held Paris for a long time when we were picked up. As it was, the captain worked out the whole story for me, and I was quite content.
In a few days we sighted an English vessel bound from Melbourne to London with wool. At my earnest request, in spite of stormy weather which rendered it dangerous for a boat to take us from one ship to the other, the captain consented to signal the English vessel, and we were received on board, but we were transferred with such difficulty that no communication took place as to the manner of our being found. I did indeed hear the Italian mate who was in charge of the boat shout out something in French to the effect that we had been picked up from a balloon, but the noise of the wind was so great, and the captain understood so little French that he caught nothing of the truth, and it was assumed that we were two persons who had been saved from shipwreck. When the captain asked me in what ship I had been wrecked, I said that a party of us had been carried out to sea in a pleasure-boat by a strong current, and that Arowhena (whom I described as a Peruvian lady) and I were alone saved.
A few days later, we spotted an English ship carrying wool from Melbourne to London. The weather was stormy, and it was dangerous for a boat to carry us between the ships. Still, I urged the captain to signal the English ship, and he agreed. We were taken on board, but the transfer was so difficult that no one explained how we had been found. I did hear the Italian mate in charge of the boat shout something in French about our being picked up from a balloon. But the wind was very loud, and the captain understood so little French that he missed the truth. Instead, everyone assumed we had survived a shipwreck. When the captain asked which ship I had been wrecked in, I gave him another story. I said that a strong current had carried a group of us out to sea in a pleasure boat. I also said that only Arowhena and I had survived. I described her as a Peruvian lady.
There were several passengers, whose goodness towards us we can never repay. I grieve to think that they cannot fail to discover that we did not take them fully into our confidence; but had we told them all, they would not have believed us, and I was determined that no one should hear of Erewhon, or have the chance of getting there before me, as long as I could prevent it. Indeed, the recollection of the many falsehoods which I was then obliged to tell, would render my life miserable were I not sustained by the consolations of my religion. Among the passengers there was a most estimable clergyman, by whom Arowhena and I were married within a very few days of our coming on board.
There were several passengers whose kindness to us we can never repay. It grieves me to think they will surely discover that we did not tell them everything. But if we had, they would not have believed us. And I was determined that no one should hear of Erewhon or have a chance to get there before me, as long as I could prevent it. Indeed, the memory of the many lies I had to tell then would make my life miserable, if I were not comforted by my religion. Among the passengers was a highly respected clergyman. He married Arowhena and me within a few days of our coming on board.
After a prosperous voyage of about two months, we sighted the Land’s End, and in another week we were landed at London. A liberal subscription was made for us on board the ship, so that we found ourselves in no immediate difficulty about money. I accordingly took Arowhena down into Somersetshire, where my mother and sisters had resided when I last heard of them. To my great sorrow I found that my mother was dead, and that her death had been accelerated by the report of my having been killed, which had been brought to my employer’s station by Chowbok. It appeared that he must have waited for a few days to see whether I returned, that he then considered it safe to assume that I should never do so, and had accordingly made up a story about my having fallen into a whirlpool of seething waters while coming down the gorge homeward. Search was made for my body, but the rascal had chosen to drown me in a place where there would be no chance of its ever being recovered.
After a successful voyage of about two months, we sighted Land’s End. A week later, we landed in London. The people on board had generously collected money for us, so we had no immediate money worries. I therefore took Arowhena to Somersetshire, where my mother and sisters had lived when I last heard from them. To my great sorrow, I found that my mother had died. Her death had been hastened by a report that I had been killed. Chowbok had brought the news to my employer’s station. It seemed he must have waited a few days to see whether I returned. He then decided he could safely assume I never would. So he made up a story that I had fallen into a whirlpool of churning water while coming down the gorge toward home. A search was made for my body, but the rascal had chosen a place where it could never be recovered.
My sisters were both married, but neither of their husbands was rich. No one seemed overjoyed on my return; and I soon discovered that when a man’s relations have once mourned for him as dead, they seldom like the prospect of having to mourn for him a second time.
Both my sisters were married, but neither of their husbands was rich. No one seemed overjoyed when I returned. I soon discovered that once a man's relatives have mourned him as dead, they seldom welcome the prospect of mourning him again.
Accordingly I returned to London with my wife, and through the assistance of an old friend supported myself by writing good little stories for the magazines, and for a tract society. I was well paid; and I trust that I may not be considered presumptuous in saying that some of the most popular of the brochures which are distributed in the streets, and which are to be found in the waiting-rooms of the railway stations, have proceeded from my pen. During the time that I could spare, I arranged my notes and diary till they assumed their present shape. There remains nothing for me to add, save to unfold the scheme which I propose for the conversion of Erewhon.
So I returned to London with my wife. With help from an old friend, I supported myself by writing good little stories for magazines and a tract society. I was well paid. I hope it is not presumptuous to say that I wrote some of the most popular brochures handed out in the streets and found in railway station waiting rooms. In my spare time, I arranged my notes and diary into their present form. There is nothing left to add except the plan I propose for converting Erewhon.
That scheme has only been quite recently decided upon as the one which seems most likely to be successful.
Only recently was that plan chosen as the one most likely to succeed.
It will be seen at once that it would be madness for me to go with ten or a dozen subordinate missionaries by the same way as that which led me to discover Erewhon. I should be imprisoned for typhus, besides being handed over to the straighteners for having run away with Arowhena: an even darker fate, to which I dare hardly again allude, would be reserved for my devoted fellow-labourers. It is plain, therefore, that some other way must be found for getting at the Erewhonians, and I am thankful to say that such another way is not wanting. One of the rivers which descends from the Snowy Mountains, and passes through Erewhon, is known to be navigable for several hundred miles from its mouth. Its upper waters have never yet been explored, but I feel little doubt that it will be found possible to take a light gunboat (for we must protect ourselves) to the outskirts of the Erewhonian country.
It is obvious that I would be mad to return by the route that led me to Erewhon, with ten or twelve subordinate missionaries. I would be imprisoned for typhus and handed over to the straighteners for running away with Arowhena. An even darker fate would await my devoted fellow workers, one I hardly dare mention again. Clearly, we must find another way to reach the Erewhonians. I am thankful to say that another way exists. One river flows down from the Snowy Mountains and passes through Erewhon. Ships are known to be able to travel several hundred miles upstream from its mouth. No one has yet explored its upper reaches. But I have little doubt that a light gunboat could reach the outskirts of Erewhon by this route. We must, after all, protect ourselves.
I propose, therefore, that one of those associations should be formed in which the risk of each of the members is confined to the amount of his stake in the concern. The first step would be to draw up a prospectus. In this I would advise that no mention should be made of the fact that the Erewhonians are the lost tribes. The discovery is one of absorbing interest to myself, but it is of a sentimental rather than commercial value, and business is business. The capital to be raised should not be less than fifty thousand pounds, and might be either in five or ten pound shares as hereafter determined. This should be amply sufficient for the expenses of an experimental voyage.
I therefore propose forming a company in which each member can lose no more than they invest. The first step would be to draw up a prospectus. I would advise leaving out the fact that the Erewhonians are the lost tribes. I find the discovery fascinating, but its value is sentimental rather than commercial, and business is business. We should raise at least fifty thousand pounds, in shares of either five or ten pounds. We can decide the share price later. The capital should be more than enough to cover the costs of an experimental voyage.
When the money had been subscribed, it would be our duty to charter a steamer of some twelve or fourteen hundred tons burden, and with accommodation for a cargo of steerage passengers. She should carry two or three guns in case of her being attacked by savages at the mouth of the river. Boats of considerable size should be also provided, and I think it would be desirable that these also should carry two or three six-pounders. The ship should be taken up the river as far as was considered safe, and a picked party should then ascend in the boats. The presence both of Arowhena and myself would be necessary at this stage, inasmuch as our knowledge of the language would disarm suspicion, and facilitate negotiations.
Once the money had been raised, we would need to charter a steamship of about 1,200 to 1,400 tons. It would need space for a shipload of steerage passengers. It should carry two or three guns in case savages attacked it at the mouth of the river. We should also provide fairly large boats. I think these should each carry two or three six-pounder guns. The ship should travel as far up the river as was thought safe. A carefully chosen party should then continue upstream in the boats. Both Arowhena and I would need to be present at this stage. Our knowledge of the language would ease suspicion and make negotiations easier.
We should begin by representing the advantages afforded to labour in the colony of Queensland, and point out to the Erewhonians that by emigrating thither, they would be able to amass, each and all of them, enormous fortunes—a fact which would be easily provable by a reference to statistics. I have no doubt that a very great number might be thus induced to come back with us in the larger boats, and that we could fill our vessel with emigrants in three or four journeys.
We should begin by describing the opportunities for workers in the colony of Queensland. We should tell the Erewhonians that, by emigrating there, every one of them could make an enormous fortune. Statistics would easily prove this. I have no doubt that we could persuade a great many to return with us in the larger boats. We could fill our vessel with emigrants in three or four trips.
Should we be attacked, our course would be even simpler, for the Erewhonians have no gunpowder, and would be so surprised with its effects that we should be able to capture as many as we chose; in this case we should feel able to engage them on more advantageous terms, for they would be prisoners of war. But even though we were to meet with no violence, I doubt not that a cargo of seven or eight hundred Erewhonians could be induced, when they were once on board the vessel, to sign an agreement which should be mutually advantageous both to us and them.
If we were attacked, our course would be even simpler. The Erewhonians have no gunpowder. They would be so surprised by its effects that we could capture as many as we chose. We could then employ them on more favorable terms, because they would be prisoners of war. But even if we met no violence, I have no doubt we could persuade a cargo of seven or eight hundred Erewhonians to sign an agreement once they were aboard the vessel. The agreement would benefit both them and us.
We should then proceed to Queensland, and dispose of our engagement with the Erewhonians to the sugar-growers of that settlement, who are in great want of labour; it is believed that the money thus realised would enable us to declare a handsome dividend, and leave a considerable balance, which might be spent in repeating our operations and bringing over other cargoes of Erewhonians, with fresh consequent profits. In fact we could go backwards and forwards as long as there was a demand for labour in Queensland, or indeed in any other Christian colony, for the supply of Erewhonians would be unlimited, and they could be packed closely and fed at a very reasonable cost.
We would then go to Queensland and sell our contract with the Erewhonians to the sugar growers there. They are in great need of labor. It is believed that the money raised would let us pay a handsome dividend and leave a substantial balance. We could spend that balance repeating the operation and bringing over other cargoes of Erewhonians, making further profits. In fact, we could go back and forth as long as there was demand for labor in Queensland or any other Christian colony. The supply of Erewhonians would be unlimited, and they could be packed closely together and fed at a very reasonable cost.
It would be my duty and Arowhena’s to see that our emigrants should be boarded and lodged in the households of religious sugar-growers; these persons would give them the benefit of that instruction whereof they stand so greatly in need. Each day, as soon as they could be spared from their work in the plantations, they would be assembled for praise, and be thoroughly grounded in the Church Catechism, while the whole of every Sabbath should be devoted to singing psalms and church-going.
Arowhena and I would be responsible for making sure our emigrants were housed and fed in the homes of religious sugar growers. These growers would give them the instruction they so badly needed. Each day, as soon as they could be spared from work on the plantations, the emigrants would gather for worship. They would also be thoroughly taught the Church Catechism. The whole of every Sabbath would be devoted to singing psalms and going to church.
This must be insisted upon, both in order to put a stop to any uneasy feeling which might show itself either in Queensland or in the mother country as to the means whereby the Erewhonians had been obtained, and also because it would give our own shareholders the comfort of reflecting that they were saving souls and filling their own pockets at one and the same moment. By the time the emigrants had got too old for work they would have become thoroughly instructed in religion; they could then be shipped back to Erewhon and carry the good seed with them.
This must be insisted on to put an end to any unease in Queensland or the mother country about how the Erewhonians had been obtained. It would also comfort our shareholders to know that they were saving souls and filling their own pockets at the same time. By the time the emigrants were too old to work, they would have been thoroughly instructed in religion. They could then be shipped back to Erewhon, carrying the good seed with them.
I can see no hitch nor difficulty about the matter, and trust that this book will sufficiently advertise the scheme to insure the subscription of the necessary capital; as soon as this is forthcoming I will guarantee that I convert the Erewhonians not only into good Christians but into a source of considerable profit to the shareholders.
I see no obstacle or difficulty here. I hope this book will publicize the scheme enough to raise the necessary capital. As soon as the money is available, I guarantee I will convert the Erewhonians into good Christians. I will also turn them into a source of considerable profit for the shareholders.
I should add that I cannot claim the credit for having originated the above scheme. I had been for months at my wit’s end, forming plan after plan for the evangelisation of Erewhon, when by one of those special interpositions which should be a sufficient answer to the sceptic, and make even the most confirmed rationalist irrational, my eye was directed to the following paragraph in the Times newspaper, of one of the first days in January 1872:-
I should add that I cannot take credit for coming up with the scheme above. For months, I had been at my wit’s end, making plan after plan to bring Christianity to Erewhon. Then I came across the following paragraph in the Times newspaper, from one of the first days of January 1872. My eye was directed to it by one of those special interventions that should be enough to answer the sceptic and make even the most committed rationalist irrational:
“POLYNESIANS IN QUEENSLAND.—The Marquis of Normanby, the new Governor of Queensland, has completed his inspection of the northern districts of the colony. It is stated that at Mackay, one of the best sugar-growing districts, his Excellency saw a good deal of the Polynesians. In the course of a speech to those who entertained him there, the Marquis said:—‘I have been told that the means by which Polynesians were obtained were not legitimate, but I have failed to perceive this, in so far at least as Queensland is concerned; and, if one can judge by the countenances and manners of the Polynesians, they experience no regret at their position.’ But his Excellency pointed out the advantage of giving them religious instruction. It would tend to set at rest an uneasy feeling which at present existed in the country to know that they were inclined to retain the Polynesians, and teach them religion.”
“POLYNESIANS IN QUEENSLAND. The Marquis of Normanby, the new Governor of Queensland, has finished inspecting the northern districts of the colony. At Mackay, one of the best sugar-growing districts, he reportedly spent considerable time with the Polynesians. In a speech to his hosts there, the Marquis said: ‘I have been told that the methods used to obtain Polynesians were not legitimate. But I have seen no evidence of this, at least as far as Queensland is concerned. And if one can judge by their faces and manners, the Polynesians do not regret their position.’ But the Marquis pointed out the advantage of giving them religious instruction. It would help ease a feeling of unease currently felt in the country. People would know that Queensland was inclined to keep the Polynesians and teach them religion.”
I feel that comment is unnecessary, and will therefore conclude with one word of thanks to the reader who may have had the patience to follow me through my adventures without losing his temper; but with two, for any who may write at once to the Secretary of the Erewhon Evangelisation Company, limited (at the address which shall hereafter be advertised), and request to have his name put down as a shareholder.
I feel no comment is needed, so I will end with one word of thanks to the reader. Thank you for having the patience to follow my adventures without losing your temper. But I offer two words of thanks to anyone who writes at once to the Secretary of the Erewhon Evangelisation Company, limited. The address will be advertised later. Please ask to have your name added as a shareholder.
P.S.—I had just received and corrected the last proof of the foregoing volume, and was walking down the Strand from Temple Bar to Charing Cross, when on passing Exeter Hall I saw a number of devout-looking people crowding into the building with faces full of interested and complacent anticipation. I stopped, and saw an announcement that a missionary meeting was to be held forthwith, and that the native missionary, the Rev. William Habakkuk, from——(the colony from which I had started on my adventures), would be introduced, and make a short address. After some little difficulty I obtained admission, and heard two or three speeches, which were prefatory to the introduction of Mr. Habakkuk. One of these struck me as perhaps the most presumptuous that I had ever heard. The speaker said that the races of whom Mr. Habakkuk was a specimen, were in all probability the lost ten tribes of Israel. I dared not contradict him then, but I felt angry and injured at hearing the speaker jump to so preposterous a conclusion upon such insufficient grounds. The discovery of the ten tribes was mine, and mine only. I was still in the very height of indignation, when there was a murmur of expectation in the hall, and Mr. Habakkuk was brought forward. The reader may judge of my surprise at finding that he was none other than my old friend Chowbok!
P.S. I had just received and corrected the final proof of the preceding volume. I was walking down the Strand from Temple Bar to Charing Cross when I passed Exeter Hall. I saw a crowd of devout-looking people entering the building, their faces full of interested and self-satisfied anticipation. I stopped and saw an announcement that a missionary meeting was about to begin. The native missionary, the Rev. William Habakkuk, would be introduced and would give a short address. He came from the colony where I had begun my adventures. After some difficulty, I got in and heard two or three speeches before Mr. Habakkuk was introduced. One of them struck me as perhaps the most presumptuous speech I had ever heard. The speaker said that the races of whom Mr. Habakkuk was an example were probably the lost ten tribes of Israel. I dared not contradict him then, but I felt angry and insulted. He had jumped to such an absurd conclusion on such flimsy evidence. The discovery of the ten tribes was mine, and mine alone. I was still at the height of my indignation when an expectant murmur passed through the hall. Mr. Habakkuk was brought forward. The reader can imagine my surprise when I saw that he was none other than my old friend Chowbok!
My jaw dropped, and my eyes almost started out of my head with astonishment. The poor fellow was dreadfully frightened, and the storm of applause which greeted his introduction seemed only to add to his confusion. I dare not trust myself to report his speech—indeed I could hardly listen to it, for I was nearly choked with trying to suppress my feelings. I am sure that I caught the words “Adelaide, the Queen Dowager,” and I thought that I heard “Mary Magdalene” shortly afterwards, but I had then to leave the hall for fear of being turned out. While on the staircase, I heard another burst of prolonged and rapturous applause, so I suppose the audience were satisfied.
My jaw dropped, and my eyes nearly popped out of my head in astonishment. The poor fellow was terribly frightened. The thunderous applause that greeted his introduction seemed only to make him more confused. I dare not try to report his speech. In fact, I could hardly listen to it because I was nearly choking as I tried to hold back my feelings. I am sure I heard the words “Adelaide, the Queen Dowager,” and I thought I heard “Mary Magdalene” shortly afterward. But then I had to leave the hall for fear of being thrown out. While I was on the stairs, I heard another long burst of delighted applause, so I suppose the audience was satisfied.
The feelings that came uppermost in my mind were hardly of a very solemn character, but I thought of my first acquaintance with Chowbok, of the scene in the woodshed, of the innumerable lies he had told me, of his repeated attempts upon the brandy, and of many an incident which I have not thought it worth while to dwell upon; and I could not but derive some satisfaction from the hope that my own efforts might have contributed to the change which had been doubtless wrought upon him, and that the rite which I had performed, however unprofessionally, on that wild upland river-bed, had not been wholly without effect. I trust that what I have written about him in the earlier part of my book may not be libellous, and that it may do him no harm with his employers. He was then unregenerate. I must certainly find him out and have a talk with him; but before I shall have time to do so these pages will be in the hands of the public.
The feelings that came to mind were hardly solemn. I thought of my first meeting with Chowbok, the scene in the woodshed, and the countless lies he had told me. I also thought of his repeated attempts to get at the brandy, and many incidents I have not thought worth describing. I could not help feeling some satisfaction at the hope that my own efforts had helped bring about the change that had doubtless taken place in him. Perhaps the rite I had performed on that wild upland riverbed had not been entirely without effect, however unprofessionally I had performed it. I hope that what I wrote about him earlier in this book is not libelous and will not harm him with his employers. He was not yet reformed then. I must certainly find him and have a talk with him. But these pages will be in the hands of the public before I have time to do so.
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At the last moment I see a probability of a complication which causes me much uneasiness. Please subscribe quickly. Address to the Mansion-House, care of the Lord Mayor, whom I will instruct to receive names and subscriptions for me until I can organise a committee.
At the last moment, I see that a complication is likely, and it makes me very uneasy. Please subscribe quickly. Send names and subscriptions to the Mansion-House, care of the Lord Mayor. I will ask him to receive them for me until I can organize a committee.
The end