THE GOOD GOVERNOR.

In a region where favourable latitude and tempering sea-breezes combine to produce perpetual summer, lie “the still vexed Bermoothes,” the Bermuda of modern navigators, where one-half of the year is the fitting seedtime for plants of the tropical, and the other half of the temperate zones. These islands, discovered to us by a shipwreck, with one exception, our oldest colony, offer a miniature copy of the institutions of the parent state.

About twenty square miles of surface, consisting of one island thirty miles long by two broad, and a half-dozen aide-de-camp sort of islets, support a population rather less numerous, and considerably less wealthy, than that of the City of Canterbury; and enjoy the dignity of a capital, with two thousand inhabitants; of a Governor and Commander-in-Chief, who takes his seat on “the throne” when opening the Bermoothean Parliament; of a Council, or miniature House of Lords, and a Representative Assembly of thirty-six members, forming a miniature House of Commons. They had formerly an Archdeacon, but, by one of those extraordinary decisions that occasionally originate in high quarters, the Archdeacon has been metamorphosed into a Bishop of Newfoundland, whom the Bermudians never see, although they still have the honour of paying the salary of the late Archdeacon.

Formerly Bermuda, like Virginia, from which it was an offshoot, was a slave colony, and grew tobacco. But tobacco would not pay, and every Bermudian, being born within a mile of the water, was bred amphibious. Capital cedar for ship-building grows on the hills, and harbours are all around to receive the craft when built. So it came to pass, that the “‘Mudian” clippers became plentiful all over the neighbouring seas, and took a large share of the carrying trade between our American colonies and the West Indies. Even when a large slice of these said colonies had struggled into the Republic of the United States, the ’Mudians continued to do a good stroke of sea-faring business.

Then whales abounded in the neighbouring seas, and every ’Mudian took to handling the oar, the lance, or the harpoon, at a time of life when other children were driving hoops, or riding rocking-horses.

548It was the natural result of these handy occupations in so limited a space, that the whole population, with the exception of that supported by the expenditure of the garrison, was occupied in building, or rigging, or manning, or loading, vessels of some kind, if not whaling or fishing. White or black, they were all sailors and sea-faring to a man, almost to a woman. The real mermaid still lingers round Bermuda’s coast. Breechless babies swaggered along with a mixture of long and short steps in true jack-tar style. Bermudian young ladies directed their maids to let out a reef in a petticoat, and officers driving tandem were bid “put yer helm down,” by native guides.

There are no records to show when first in Bermuda sea-faring arts began to devour all others; certain it is that just as the manufacture of glass and porcelain, purple dye, and other signal utilities and ornaments have been more than once discovered, lost, and re-discovered, so were agriculture and horticulture in the year 1839 of the islands of perpetual spring, among the lost arts. If in that year some convulsion had for ever separated them from external communications, the process of food-growing among a British race would have been left as rude in theory, more imperfect in practice, than among the New Zealanders or South Sea Islanders.

There were in that year two persons in the islands who could plough, but they did not. Haymaking and mowing was a theory learned in books, just as curious inquirers in Lancashire may have read of cotton cultivation. As for the state of gardening, it was about parallel with British gardening in the time of Queen Bess, who used to send to Holland for a salad.

So there was neither corn nor hay, and very little fruit, of the worst quality. A sort of bitter orange-tree abounded through the islands. Inquisitive strangers asked “Why not graft or bud sweet oranges on these luxuriant stocks, or why not sow sweet seeds?” But the natives were positive that buds would not take, and seeds would not grow.

Such was Bermuda in 1839; somewhat depressed in its fishing, whaling, ship-building, sea-carrying commerce, by the competition of New Brunswick and the United States. Although less affected than the sugar-growing islands by negro emancipation, still whites, who had lived easily although barely by hiring out a few black artisans, were reduced to sore straits.

It was in this year there arrived a new Governor. He travelled the length and breadth of his islands, and found all green and all barren; a light, but fertile soil, bearing fine timber, and luxuriant weeds. Round the government house was a waste of eight acres, within sight a great swamp. According to popular opinion, Colonial Governors are gentlemen of broken fortunes, and strong political connections, who endure temporary evils for the sake of future ease and dignity.

At any rate, among military martinet Governors; naval bashaw Governors; didactic despatch-writing Governors; Governors landing with crotchets all ready-cut and dry; Governors who support the Royal Prerogative by quarrelling with all their subjects, and Governors whose whole soul is in quiet and domestic economy, the popular Governor, the wise, conciliating Governor, is indeed a rare bird. According to stereotyped precedent, our Bermoothean Governor ought to have first sat down and written a flaming despatch home, painting the misery of the island, detailing his plans, and asking for money. Next he should have filled up a scheme on a scale large enough to satisfy the ideas of a Paxton in horticulture, or a Smith of Deanston in agriculture, and applied to his little parliament for a vote, in order to make a garden for himself, and a model farm for his own amusement and the benefit of the islanders.

But it happened that our “good” Governor as he was afterwards called with good reason, was not a stereotyped Governor, so that the people he was sent to rule became happy and prosperous. He cared not to become either rich or famous. Therefore, all his proceedings were on a humble, commonplace scale. Seeing that the climate was admirably adapted for oranges; which, if of good quality, would afford a valuable export, he sent for slips and seeds of the best kinds.

In front of Government House stands a bitter citron-tree: on this, with his own hands, he budded a sweet orange. The bud, contrary to all Bermudian opinions, sprouted, and grew, and flourished. After the living example of the Governor’s tree, it became a fashion—a rage—to bud sweet oranges; so by this simple and short cut an horticultural revolution was effected. Still working out the maxim that example is better than precept, our good Governor beat up for gardener recruits, accepting those who knew a little as well as those who knew nothing, but were willing to learn. With their aid, and at his own expense, the eight acres of waste round his residence, Mount Langton, were converted into a pleasure-ground, adorned with plants and shrubs of the tropical and temperate zones, which he threw open freely to the inhabitants without distinction of colour.

The next step was to drain the great marsh, the Langton Marsh, and grow hay upon it, so as to give the Bermudians a hint on the oddness of importing hay, while fine grass land lay waste. Two men who could plough were discovered, and pupils put under their hands; at the same time ploughs were imported. Having, out of his own pocket, offered prizes for garden flowers and vegetables, for corn and hay, for the best ploughman, and the best scytheman, the performances of these two being as wonderful to the islanders as skating to an Indian prince, or wine-making to a Yorkshireman, 549the Local Parliament willingly voted other prizes for the same purpose.

It would take up too much time to detail all the good Governor’s efforts—by example, by instruction, by rewards, by distribution of books, and by the promotion of industrial schools, to educate the rising generation of Bermuda in useful, civilising arts.

A grand holiday, held in May, 1846, showed that these efforts had not been without pleasant and practical results.

Mount Langton and all the pleasure-grounds created under the personal inspection and at the expense of the good Governor, were crowded with a noisy happy population, of all ranks, all ages, and all colours, black, white, and brown, assembled to enjoy and celebrate the taking stock of the revived Industry of the islands. Not equal in variety to the great Parisian Exposition, or in quality to the Royal Agricultural Shows, it was still an era in the history of the colony.

The Queen’s representative did not grudge to give up for the occasion his private domain, as that was the best site in the Island. Amid the luxuriant shrubs and gorgeous tropical flowers, the gay groups wandered; sweetly the sounds of the regimental band intermingled with the shouts and whip-crackings of the contending ploughmen as they turned up the brown furrows of long neglected soil, and with the switching of twenty-five scythe-men exhibiting their newly acquired skill on the drained pasture of Langton Marsh. Below lay the shipping in harbour, and far beyond the golden purple ocean was dotted over with the cloud-like canvas of the famous ’Mudian craft. Almost at once—one glance—it was possible to take in a view of the pursuits of old and young Bermuda. Government House was closed;—to have entertained the thousands who had assembled (beyond the needful supply of cold water found in huge jars and tubs in every shady place, a provision so grateful under a tropical sun,) was impossible; to have entertained a part—an exclusive few—on such an occasion, would have been contrary to the Governor’s principles; so for that day all personal attendants were enabled to share in the universal holiday.

In due time after the ploughing and mowing matches, came the competition in turnips, strawberries, potatoes, dahlias, barley, potherbs, flax, and cabbages, and the parading and comparison of horse-colts, ass-colts, calves, heifers, bulls, sows, and boars.

Now, before the advent of this reforming Governor, the Bermudians had been accustomed to no other competition than that of sailing or cricket matches or steeple-chases; to no other exhibitions than military reviews; all excellent in their way, but now usefully varied by a kind of competition that brought new comforts to every cottager.

Years have elapsed since the day of this well-remembered fête. But the good Governor is still affectionately remembered. The Bermudians love to show passing strangers the sweet orange-tree on Mount Langton which still blooms a green and golden monument of plain, practical, kind-hearted common sense. And this sketch of a remote and insignificant dependency has been thought worth telling for the benefit, not only of colonial Governors, but of well-meaning reformers in all parts of the world. If we would do good we must not be content with mere talk; we must not disdain to commence at our own doors by budding—a sweet orange on a bitter citron.