Lubeck of the 5th February.”  And Knappe, in the same despatch, confutes himself and confirms the testimony of his naval colleague, by the admission that “the re-establishment of Tamasese’s government is, under present circumstances, not to be thought of.”  Plainly, then, he was not so much seeking to deceive others, as he was himself possessed; and we must regard the whole series of his acts and despatches as the agitations of a fever.

The British steamer Richmond returned to Apia, January 15th.  On the last voyage she had brought the ammunition already so frequently referred to; as a matter of fact, she was again bringing contraband of war.  It is necessary to be explicit upon this, which served as spark to so great a flame of scandal.  Knappe was justified in interfering; he would have been worthy of all condemnation if he had neglected, in his posture of semi-investment, a precaution so elementary; and the manner in which he set about attempting it was conciliatory and almost timid.  He applied to Captain Hand, and begged him to accept himself the duty of “controlling” the discharge of the Richmond’s cargo.  Hand was unable to move without his consul; and at night an armed boat from the Germans boarded, searched, and kept possession of, the suspected ship.  The next day, as by an after-thought, war and martial law were proclaimed for the Samoan Islands, the introduction of contraband of war forbidden, and ships and boats declared liable to search.  “All support of the rebels will be punished by martial law,” continued the proclamation, “no matter to what nationality the person [Thater] may belong.”

Hand, it has been seen, declined to act in the matter of the Richmond without the concurrence of his consul; but I have found no evidence that either Hand or Knappe communicated with de Coetlogon, with whom they were both at daggers drawn.  First the seizure and next the proclamation seem to have burst on the English consul from a clear sky; and he wrote on the same day, throwing doubt on Knappe’s authority to declare war.  Knappe replied on the 20th that the Imperial German Government had been at war as a matter of fact since December 19th, and that it was only for the convenience of the subjects of other states that he had been empowered to make a formal declaration.  “From that moment,” he added, “martial law prevails in Samoa.”  De Coetlogon instantly retorted, declining martial law for British subjects, and announcing a proclamation in that sense.  Instantly, again, came that astonishing document, Knappe’s rejoinder, without pause, without reflection—­the pens screeching on the paper, the messengers (you would think) running from consulate to consulate:  “I have had the honour to receive your Excellency’s [Hochwohlgeboren] agreeable communication of to-day.  Since, on the ground of received instructions, martial law has been declared in Samoa, British subjects as well as