Savage (24 page)

Despard called on Jemmy to interpret for them, but whether from ignorance, exhibitionism or an unwillingness to speak Yamana in front of the missionary, he talked to the visitors in English. They responded in Fuegian with ‘What, countryman, you there in English ship?' Jemmy added, ‘I come from far-way-off land.' Nonplussed, the Indians asked, in Spanish,
‘Que?'
The missionary noted, ‘We tried to impress upon him the absurdity of speaking to them in English which we ourselves could do better than he…' but without success.

On 27 November, while the ship was anchored near the Beagle Channel more canoes arrived, one of them carrying friends of Jemmy. As Despard gave out gifts, Jemmy and Lassaweea bought baskets to send back to Cranmer for Mrs Despard and Louise Hanlon. One Fuegian climbed on board the
Allen Gardiner
and started to dance and sing, holding both his fists up to his chin. Fell gave him a white shirt, which he did not know how to put on, and said to him, ‘You are a very fine fellow.' The native replied, ‘You are a very fine fellow.' When he was shown his reflection in a mirror he was frightened and ran to the side of the ship. Fell put down the mirror, ripped some old shirts into strips and called the remaining Yamana on board so he could tie cloth bandannas around their heads.

The next day was a Sunday and Despard banned all trading. As it was a warm, sunny day, he also agreed to hold morning service on the main deck. Jemmy looked over at the Fuegians in their canoes and addressed them solemnly from the gangway, ‘What for you no go away your own country? go away – go ashore; no want noise now.' It had no effect, and he became annoyed, unaware once more that he had been speaking English. When the crew laughed at him, he pushed his hands into his jacket pockets and wandered off in a huff. The ship's bell was struck and the Yamana shouted out in surprise, but a few minutes later they joined in the hymn singing.

That day another friend of Jemmy arrived. Tish-pinnay was a peculiar-looking Fuegian, with a nose so aristocratic that FitzRoy had nicknamed him the Duke of Wellington. He had lost an eye in an accident, though Jemmy had a far more colourful explanation: ‘Man die, here ashore, he very sorry, cry very much, eye ran away in water all over cheek; yes, sir!' When he came back from talking with his friend he was slightly disturbed for he thought he had caught whispers of a plot against him among the canoe Indians: ‘They say, leave canoe other side, walk, walk, walk down to my country. Come night, take away my clothes and knife. I keep quiet on island.'

Two days later, strong winds whipped up the seas as the
Allen Gardiner
drew close to Wulaia Cove. Native canoes were unable to keep pace with her and, not wishing to stop for them, Robert Fell floated presents back to them in the vessel's slipstream. However, as they entered the Murray Narrows the storm cracked the topsail halyards and the main sail crashed down. Mrs Button screamed in terror. The captain turned the ship and headed back to the shelter of Wellfound Bay, from where they had set out that morning. Jemmy was furious, Fell noted.

No sooner was the ship running back than Mr and Mrs Button, having their expectations blighted in getting home, began to show themselves. ‘I say, what do you call that? no go to my country that way. Go back to England.' Both Jem and his wife were quite put out about it, not understanding the difficulties in which we were placed … the seas were fit to sink the vessel, or sweep her decks. Mrs Button in the difficulty could shout with fear, but complained when we ran for safety …

Jemmy feared that he had been duped and was now being taken back to Keppel Island or, worse still, England. When a flotilla of canoes came alongside the next day with news that his son Queerentze was about to be killed, he announced that he was getting off the ship and would make his own way home. The missionaries, he proclaimed, could sail on to Wulaia with his possessions and he would meet them there. Then, with his wife and children following at a distance, he went ashore, to where a council of Fuegians sat around a small pyramid of mussel shells. He walked round and round them, then sat at a slight distance with his family.

A few minutes went by, and then a deputation of Fuegians went over to him, an argument broke out and Jemmy stood up and waved frantically at the
Allen Gardiner.
The missionaries ignored him – Despard claimed he thought that Jemmy wanted to borrow a canoe, but from the dismissive remark in Garland Phillips's journal, ‘He hailed us, but no notice was taken…' it seems that Jemmy was being taught a lesson. Eventually the Fuegian removed his waistcoat and traded it for a ride back to the ship in a canoe. As he clambered on board he told Despard, ‘Bad men wanted me to cooshie [sleep]; wanted to steal all my close. Not take to my country. Tried to cut great piece off my wife's shawl. All story about my son. I stay, very well, sir; go up country with you.'

As the
Allen Gardiner
sailed on to Wulaia Cove, the journals kept by the missionary party and published in the
Voice of Pity
became increasingly dismissive of the Buttons. Captain Fell, who barely knew the Fuegians or their people, wrote, ‘James Button, although kind and good natured, seems to be one of the dullest of his race.' Despard added his condemnation:

Poor Jem is very stupid as interpreter – he understands neither them nor us – and when we tell him to say something to them, persists in using his broken English. His wife even tries this plan. This morning she was calling out to a canoe, ‘Basketta,' for a basket (
kay-jan
is the word). Of course she got no answer till one of us used the proper word.

The missionaries also seemed more willing to report Jemmy's tantrums. He had been upset at the ship turning tail in the face of a storm that threatened to tear it apart, and when they arrived in the Yahgashaga he was reportedly annoyed that the
Allen Gardiner
went to Wulaia rather than Button Island where he lived and where he could unload his accumulated treasure with more ease. It seems that now they had accepted that Jemmy's usefulness had run its course, the mission party could be more honest about their feelings towards him. He had only one function left, as far as they were concerned, and that was to persuade another party to go to Cranmer. After that he could be disregarded.

They anchored off Wulaia on 4 December, and after dinner Jemmy took a party ashore to explore what Fell anticipated from his reading of FitzRoy's
Narratives
would have been ‘the celebrated city of Woollya'. The captain was not impressed, though: ‘We were at first greatly disappointed, nor could we help conveying to each other's mind the impression by our looks.' He added that as they walked along the beach and into the cove Jemmy appeared ashamed and the look on his face seemed to say, ‘Neither myself nor my countrymen were worth the trouble which Captain FitzRoy took with our garden, as we have allowed it all to go to waste.'

That night, Macooallan, Jemmy's brother, was the first of many visitors to the
Allen Gardiner.
He was a
yacomosh
– responsible for looking after both physical ailments and weather conditions. On board the ship, he and Jemmy were brusque with one another, avoiding eye-contact, Macooallan preferring instead to stare at Despard and repeat his every word. Jemmy put his hand on his brother's shoulder and indicated the missionary superintendent: ‘This Mr Despard,' he said.

His brother repeated, ‘Dis Mr Despard.'

Jemmy turned to Fell: ‘This Captain FitzRoy…' and then correcting himself, ‘Captain Fell, Captain Fell.'

‘Dis captain Fell.'

And so the conversation continued.

‘This Mr Phillips.'

‘Dis Mr Flips.'

‘This Mr Turpin.'

‘Dis Mr Turpan.'

Soon, others had joined the party: another of Jemmy's brothers, Waymeschoones, Jemmy's son Queerentze and his son-in-law Loole, his daughters Coolakayenche and Macooallkippin, his other wife and her infant daughter, the mother of both wives and his daughter-in-law Lookalke, and two men, Schwaiamugunjiz and his brother Tellon. It was quite a party and all were given biscuits, but this was not enough. Jemmy knew that there was a large store of clothes in the hold and demanded that his friends and relatives be given them. Both Fell and Despard refused, saying that it was getting late. Jemmy turned to Charles Turpin: ‘What for Captain Fell no give my countrymen clothing? What do you call that? Captain Fell give nother man clothes, and no give my countryman clothes, what do you call that?'

Turpin replied that it was late, but that all Jemmy's people would be given plenty of clothes if they would wait. Jemmy seemed satisfied and bowed, touching his forehead, but Fell might have overheard the conversation and, thinking it best to keep up the good relations, relented. The clothes were fetched up and the visitors were helped into their new dress.

This first meeting with Jemmy's Fuegians left the mission party feeling optimistic about their chances for success. Despard had ambitions for Wulaia. He wanted to gather together a new party of Fuegians to take back to Cranmer and to build a small house of worship on the cove, which in time would become a mission outpost and a place where members of his team could live for short periods among the native people. They were to spend four weeks in the area, dividing their time between constructing the new building, learning snippets of language and developing a rapport with the Fuegians. They attempted now to introduce an extra dimension into their relationship with the Fuegians: the work ethic and payment for labour.

This new approach was evident almost immediately. On 6 December, as Jemmy prepared to leave the ship, he demanded breakfast. Fell explained the changed thinking: ‘Well, Jemmy, you know muscles very good in your country. Suppose you work, we give you biscuit; suppose you no work, we can no give biscuit.' Later that morning work began on digging the foundations for the manse and cutting down trees for its walls. It was an exhausting task for the ship's small crew, but Jemmy, one of his sons, a son-in-law and a Fuegian called Silagalesh agreed to help for a biscuit each. A system of payment was quickly established and on the first day Jemmy earned ten biscuits, his colleagues only five. The missionaries offered to pay the Indians for cutting and fetching bark, and as more helped in the construction work Despard found that paying them at the close of the day was unproductive: the Fuegians lost motivation. He tried paying them at the end of every job and watched as the work rate climbed. Interestingly, the labourers soon developed an awareness of their industrial strength: by the time work began on the roof they were refusing to carry shoulder loads of timber up the ladder for just one biscuit.

Fell noted in his journal that now the Fuegians were paid they were breaking out of ‘lazy habits, such as sitting by fires in the different wigwams all day, not moving hand or foot until hunger necessitates them to go on the beach for muscles [
sic
]'. He offered clothes from mainland South America in return for chopping down trees; they were he noted the ‘worst portions' of clothes, but nevertheless the offer had the desired effect: the Fuegians took to their axes with enthusiasm. Soon Tish-pinnay – ‘the Duke of Wellington' – earned a black frock coat, over which he wore a lady's petticoat. Another man wore just a petticoat.

Great was the mirth at the masquerade. Here was a man trying to force himself into a pair of small boy's unmentionables; there a coat put over a bit of blanket, then a waistcoat outside of that; in another, a head was seen thrust through the armhole of a vest, and the rest of the integument hanging gracefully over the left shoulder. One lady had a long amply flounced black-muslin dress given to her; she put her arms through its sleeves, and let the tail and flounces follow in train. This droll figure excited a shout of laughter. I think there is now scarce an individual, out of 170 here, who has not a garment of some kind …

In the meantime relations with the Fuegians had reached a plateau. While not overly warm, dealings between the two parties were amiable and rarely threatening. Jemmy Button had isolated gripes, such as on 10 December when he informed the mission party that the women were complaining they were not receiving enough presents. Despard sent him back with the message that if they made baskets he would pay them.

An element of the beauty contest pervaded these relationships: as work progressed on the house, the four leading members of the missionary party – Despard, Fell, Phillips and Turpin – kept an eye open for what they considered the best Fuegians, the most intelligent and the most industrious, hoping to persuade them to return to Keppel Island.

Shortly after their arrival at Wulaia a most promising candidate had presented himself. Ookokowenche was a good-looking boy aged about sixteen. When Despard invited him on board the
Allen Gardiner
he fairly bounced up the gangway and submitted, without objection, to a haircut and a good scrubbing down. His reward was a meal of pork, biscuit and coffee (which he found repulsive and called bad water).

During the course of the next few days he made himself at home, eating and drinking all he could lay his hands on, admiring his reflection in a skylight and turning his hand to the occasional task. He was, he told Despard, not from Wulaia, but from a long way away and he had no objection to going to Cranmer. His mother was a widow, he explained, who had come to these parts.

Three days after he went on board the missionaries met her. On 7 December she arrived in a canoe, screeching at the enforced detention of her son and demanding he be released immediately. Despard said that he could leave, so long as he returned all the clothes he had been given as part of the bargain for agreeing to go to Keppel Island. The woman grabbed her son and dragged him off to the shore, berating him all the way for his misbehaviour.

Poor weather held up work on the house. On 13 December, with the rain pouring down, Macooallan – by now known as Tommy Button – came onto the
Allen Gardiner
to say he was happy to go to the mission station. His face was painted white and Despard called him unclean. The Fuegian ‘pointed, and objected to, my beard, as dirty' wrote Despard. Another Fuegian, the nineteen-year-old Congorenches, declared his interest in joining the mission party with his wife, and still they had not given up on Ookokowenche. By Christmas it was time to make their selection public and find out whether they could take their plans any further.