“To our Lady of Leigh
Only a paper,
A very short paper,
An innocent paper,
My lady, to sign,
Expressing your int’rest,
Your broad-minded int’rest,
Your psychical int’rest,
In this work of mine.
Sign: I entreat you,
Bishops will greet you,
Clergy beseech you,
Lady, to join
This league confraternal
To seek the eternal—
Not the infernal—
Basis of truth!
H. S. O.”
Sydney, 7th May 1891.
Another, still more generally interesting, fellow-voyager on the Arcadia was, as already mentioned, Sir Samuel Baker, who, with his intrepid wife, was making one of his frequent journeys to India. He enlivened many hours which might have proved tedious by stories of his African adventures, and was always surrounded by an interested circle of listeners. He told how on his expedition to the sources of the White Nile he had met two tattered figures which proved to be Speke and Grant coming back from tracing that part of the river which flowed from the Victoria Nyanza. They urged him to continue his undertaking as they said that if he also found the source he was seeking “England will have done it”—and she did. He asked them to come into his camp—but they hung back—and when he asked why they explained that they heard he had Mrs. Baker with him, and were in such rags that they did not like to present themselves before a lady! Nevertheless they were induced not to treat the desert like a London drawing-room, and the lady laughed and mended their clothes for them. Sir Samuel loved to tell stories of his wife’s heroism and self-possession in more than one critical juncture. With all her adventures she had remained a very simple and charming woman.
SIR SAMUEL BAKER
When we were passing the Arabian Coast of the Gulf of Suez Sir Samuel Baker pointed out Mount Sinai, though some people pretend that you can only see its whereabouts—not the Mountain itself. He told us a great deal of Moses’ adventures—from Josephus, I believe—but he also said that he himself had seen all the Plagues of Egypt, though he said that for “lice” one should read “ticks”! We asked how about the Darkness? He said he had been in a Khamsin wind when for twenty minutes you could not see the flame of a candle close by; and as for the “first-born,” when plague or cholera swept off families they only cared about the first-born, the second- or third-born did not count. He and Lady Baker were also very amusing about the visits to Egypt of the Princess of Wales and the Empress Eugénie respectively.
We had a mild excitement in the Gulf of Aden when a man played the “Boulanger” hymn during dinner. No one now would recognise the “Boulanger” hymn, as the hero of the black horse is forgotten, but then the Germans hissed and the French applauded. The captain was appealed to, and sent word to “tell the man to stop that noise”—a message which the steward delivered too accurately to please the performer!
I do not describe any of the sights which we saw either at the Ports or at sea, much as they thrilled such unaccustomed oriental travellers as ourselves. Most people now are familiar with the voyage either from personal experience or from oral or written descriptions. I have made it several times since, and, bad sailor as I am, only wish I were young enough to undertake it again. Our cicerones treated us mercifully, but I believe some greenhorns are not so fortunate. I heard of one youth who was warned in advance that the sailors and others were sure to try to take him in. He was told several facts concerning the places and people which they passed—these he absolutely refused to believe. At last someone pointed out rocks in the sea near Suez and said, “Those are the wheels of Pharaoh’s chariots.” “Ah, that I know is true,” said the youth, “for it’s in the Bible.”
We arrived at Bombay on the morning of November 10th, and were as delighted as are most visitors with the glitter and glow of the city with its swarming and varied population. The Yacht Club was a cool and pleasant resort—and we visited the Arab horse-market, the Towers of Silence, and other well known sights. Particularly were we impressed with the curious Caverns on the Island of Elephanta, with the gigantic figures carved in high relief. Few could help being awed by the three immense heads joined together in the Central Division of the great Central Hall, representing Brahma, Siva, and Vishnu. I was specially interested in the designs representing the story of the favourite Hindu deity Ganpati or Ganesha. You see the marriage of his parents Siva and Parvati, his birth, and a battle among the gods and demons in the course of which he had his head cut off. His irate mother substituted an elephant’s head and declared that she, the Mother of Nature, would upset everything unless gods and men worshipped him in this guise—and he now appears as God of Wisdom. Another version is that Siva himself cut off his son’s head, mistaking him for an intruder in his mother’s apartments. However that may be, the lower class of Hindu have adopted him as a favourite deity, and we were told of a great festival in February when they flock to the Caves with offerings of coco-nuts, rice, and leaves.
Our travelling-companion Captain Hext was most kind to us in Bombay, and a Parsee, Mr. Allbless, showed us something of the life of that community.
MAHABLESHWAR
From Bombay, after a night at Poona, we went to Mahableshwar to stay with our kind friends, Lord and Lady Reay, he being at that time Governor of the Bombay Presidency. We left the train at Wathar and a drive of about five hours through magnificent scenery brought us to our destination soon after seven in the evening of November 14th. We were greatly struck by the huge square-topped mountains towering in giant terraces above fertile, well-watered valleys. The soil was generally deep brown or deep red. As darkness came on we saw quantities of fire-flies amongst the luxuriant vegetation. Next morning the view from the house across the valley to a gigantic square-topped mountain beyond was so dazzling as almost to take away one’s breath. Few things are so impressive as to arrive after dark at an unknown dwelling, and to awaken in the morning to a new world of glorious scenery quivering in sunshine and colour. I recall two instances of the same awaking to the joy of natural beauty previously unsuspected—once at Glengariff and once at Mahableshwar. The soft radiance of Southern Ireland was very different from the almost violent colouring of India, but the sudden delight was the same.