The Samoan group consisted of three principal and several outlying islands. Tutuila, which possesses the best harbour, was held by the Americans, while Upolu, site of the capital, and Savaii, a mountainous isle, were more or less in dispute between the Germans and the British. The politics of the whole group were involved to a degree, and certainly hold little interest for anyone at this time of day. The League of Nations did not exist in 1892, but Samoa would have afforded a splendid field for its discussions, not to say a happy hunting-ground for commissions and expenditure.

The main points of difference in 1892 may be summarised thus: There were two kings, Malietoa Laupepa, acknowledged by the European Powers, and a rebel, Mataafa, fortified in the mountains. There was another monarch, Tamasese, but he was not then counted among the royal claimants, though son of a chief called the “German King,” because his father had once upon a time been acknowledged by the Germans, who gave him a uniform.

Also there were three Land Commissioners and three Consuls, English, American, and German; a German Prime Minister; Mabon, Secretary of State—I think American—and a Swedish Chief Justice. The last-named was appointed to settle any matters of difference which might arise between the Land Commissioners of the three Great Powers, and they were to decide the disputes between the various claimants to land.

The Europeans had often tried to induce the natives to sell them land far below its value, and the natives were not altogether behindhand in the game, as they would sell the same land to two or three different purchasers. Result, far more claims to land than acres existing to satisfy the claimants. The Swedish Chief Justice, a man called Cedercrantz, with a squint, did not know English when appointed, and had to go to Fiji to learn it.

To add to the complications there were three sets of missionaries in Upolu, London missionaries and Wesleyans, with a standing feud between them, and Roman Catholics of course violently opposed to both. All this for a population well under a hundred thousand! However, despite all these quarrels, and the consequent excitements, the natives seemed a singularly contented and easy-going community, and everyone whom we met vied with all others in making us happy.

The Samoans are fairer than the New Caledonians and their hair less woolly; they approached nearer to the Malay type. We found they did not in the least want to work in the cocoa-nut plantations set on foot by the Germans, and why should they. Fishing one day a week and cultivating a few yams and taros on another day would supply their food, and the women made tappa for their few garments out of the bark of trees.

GERMAN PLANTATIONS

The Germans imported workmen of the dusky negro type from the New Hebrides and New Ireland, but the English settlers were not allowed to do this, and the consequence in our time was that the Germans owned the plantations, but otherwise trade and population accrued largely to New Zealanders and other British subjects.

Our host, Bazett Haggard, brother to Rider Haggard and to William Haggard whom we had known in Athens, was a great character. When he visited Sydney he was known as “Samoa,” for he never talked of anything else, which was perhaps not surprising under the circumstances.

A lawyer by profession, on appointment as Land Commissioner he had been endowed with a Foreign Office uniform and a Red Box which were sources of infinite gratification and innocent pride. An Australian young lady asked in awed tones, “Have you seen the beautiful box which Lord Salisbury gave Mr. Haggard?” Previous to a ball at Government House he asked with all the solemnity appropriate to a budding diplomat whether I would dance with him as first representative of the Foreign Office at Sydney. After the dance he laid aside his sword for the rest of the evening, assuring me that this was the proper etiquette, to dance the State dance wearing the sword and subsequent ones without it. No doubt he was right.