For lack of something better to do, the passengers began to find fault with the food supplied by the worthy Governor Glass, and this caused much difficulty and several formal conferences and protests. He promised to do better, and honestly tried to, bearing the situation with unfailing good humor and courtesy. If the rations were scrimped, it was no doubt because he feared he might be eaten out of house and home and left without reserve supplies.
On New Year’s day there was a notable celebration, when the four children of the Glass family were formally christened by Dr. Hatch of the Blenden Hall, who had taken holy orders in his youth. Governor Glass wore his scarlet uniform of the Royal Artillery, “Mrs. Lock stuck so many white feathers in her hair that it resembled a cauliflower, while Mrs. Painter sported a white turban of such ample dimensions that the Grand Sultan himself might have envied her.” Bonfires blazed, flags flew from every roof, and the islanders were dressed in their best.
On January 9 the English merchant ship Nerinae hove to off Tristan da Cunha to fill her water-casks. She was bound from Buenos Aires to Table Bay with a hold filled with live mules. Uncomfortable shipmates these, but the people of the Blenden Hall were not in a captious mood. They were taken on board, and sailed away from Governor Glass after spending three months with him, and it is to be fancied that he felt no profound regrets.
A bit of romance touched the parting scenes. The night before the Nerinae sailed from Tristan, the pretty maid servant of Mrs. Lock slipped ashore in a boat, with what few belongings she had, and joined her sailor sweetheart, Stephen White, who had decided to remain behind on the island. This Peggy was a Portuguese half-caste from Madras who is referred to in the diary as a “female attendant.” Seaman White is called a worthless fellow, but this may be taken for what it is worth. The important fact is that he had found a sweetheart during the weary exile on Inaccessible Island and that they were resolved to stay together and let the rest of the world go hang. Governor Glass was quite competent to unite them in the bonds of a marriage that was proper in the sight of God.
There is one final glimpse of Mrs. Lock and Mrs. Painter shortly before the good ship Nerinae, with her freightage of mules and castaways, anchored in Table Bay.
The two ladies having for a considerable time been very quiet, Captain Greig thought he would make another trial at reconciliation, and begged Mrs. Lock to shake hands with Mrs. Painter which the latter was willing to do, but the commodore’s wife declared, “Me do anything Captain like, but me will bring action for defamation against little Painter and his damn wife, please God me ever get back to Bombay.”
Mrs. Lock used to say that she fully expected to find her dear commodore dead with grief. Mrs. Painter repeatedly retorted that it was far more likely she would find him with another wife, but she might make up her mind it would not be a black one.
Thus concludes the story of the Blenden Hall, East Indiaman, but it is so interwoven with the fortunes of Tristan da Cunha and its colonists that further tidings of them may prove interesting. In 1824, four years after the wreck of the East Indiaman, an author and artist of New Zealand, Augustus Earle, was accidentally marooned at Tristan, and stayed six months as the guest of Governor Glass before another ship touched there. He had sailed from Rio for Cape Town in a sloop, the Duke of Gloucester, which passed so close to the island in calm weather that the thrifty skipper concluded to land and buy a few tons of potatoes for the Cape market.
The artistic passenger went ashore to stroll about with dog and gun while the sailors were loading potatoes into the boat. A sudden storm swept the sea, and the boat was caught offshore, but managed to reach the sloop, which was driven far from the island and gave up trying to beat back to it. The skipper was a practical man and it was foolish to delay the voyage for such a useless creature as an author and artist. Mr. Augustus Earle was compelled to make the best of the awkward situation, and he seems to have enjoyed his protracted visit of half a year.
The village then consisted of five or six thatched cottages “which had an air of comfort, cleanliness, and plenty truly English.” The young sailor Stephen White, whom the Blenden Hall had left behind with his precious Peggy, was still happy in his bargain, and their babies were playing with the lusty little flock of the Glass family. The island was no longer a hermit’s retreat. The marooned artist noted that “children there were in abundance, and just one year older than another.” Small wonder that he saw little of the two women, who were fully occupied with their domestic duties.