sacrificing every one of us. George again remonstrated with us, assuring us it was his sacred duty to destroy this man, now he was in his territory; a duty which, he said, he owed to the memory of his murdered relations, and which must be performed, even though he should sacrifice his “good English friends.” He cautioned us not to stand between him and his enemy, who must die before the sun set, pointing, at the same time, to that luminary, and ordering his slaves to kindle a large fire to roast him on. Finally, he and his friends planted themselves all round the house to prevent the escape of their victim. Thus were we environed with fifty or sixty well armed and exasperated savages.
Our imprudence had given us no other alternative than either to give up the man, who had put himself under our protection, or still to defend him at the risk of our own lives: we instantly adopted the latter course. Fortunately for us, a whaler was lying in the harbour, and a party of her men were then on shore in the neighbourhood procuring water. We had sent to them to explain the nature of our situation, and we saw them coming to our assistance, though the numbers of natives at this time assembled totally precluded all chance of our getting off by force; and a variety of schemes were suggested as to how we should save the man’s life, and get clear of this difficulty, without sacrificing the good opinion we were held in by the natives.
We were well aware of the great importance it was to George to continue on friendly terms with the English vessels touching here, as they not only afforded him various sources of considerable profit, but the intercourse gave him great importance in the eyes of his countrymen; and we determined to make this circumstance a means of saving the man’s life, as we suspected that a threat of removing the seat of trade would soon make him compromise his revenge for his interest.
We therefore sent him a formal message, that, if he was resolved to kill his enemy in our house, we had determined not to prevent him, but that we would not stay to witness such a cruelty; and that we should immediately remove every thing we possessed on board ship, leave the Bay of Islands, and seek the protection and shelter of some other chief; and, if he compelled us to do so, no other British ship would ever be seen at Kororarika.
We accordingly ordered the ship’s boats ashore, and our things were quickly conveyed into them. I trembled when I looked on the natives, and saw the rage depicted on their countenances; and I, trusting in Providence to avert from me the dreadful death with which I saw myself threatened, prepared myself for some fatal catastrophe. Tumultuous discussions ensued, and it at length became difficult for the elders to restrain the impetuosity of the younger chiefs. Fortunately for us, their vehement speeches soon produced a violent feud amongst themselves. Mutual upbraidings took place: each accused the other of being the cause of quarrel, and the consequent loss of the white men. This was precisely the state of things we wished for; and, while we were waiting the return of the last boat, a messenger came from the elder chiefs, to propose an amicable adjustment of the affair. The chiefs promised that, if we would reland our goods and remain with them, the man we protected should go without molestation on board the brig; but, if we persevered in leaving them, the man should be killed before our eyes. This was what we expected; and though I really now wished to leave them, being quite tired of these perpetual broils, we assented, in order that the man’s life might be spared When they found we agreed to their proposal, they retreated out of sight, thereby carefully avoiding polluting their eyes by looking upon their enemy.
No sooner had they disappeared than I visited the poor fellow who had been the cause of all this disturbance: he seemed half dead with anxiety; but I soon revived him with the information that all was settled amicably; and we lost no time in getting him off, which we safely accomplished, though, as the boat which conveyed him left the shore, a bullet whizzed close by me, aimed, no doubt, by some young fiery chief, who had concealed himself in the bushes for that purpose.
During this transaction I witnessed the natural kindness of heart and disinterested tenderness of the female sex: no matter how distressing the circumstance or appalling the danger, they are, in all countries, the last to forsake man. While the enraged chiefs were yelling outside our house, and all our exertions could scarcely prevent them from making a forcible entry, all the women were sitting with, and trying to comfort the unhappy cause of this calamity. They had cooked for him a delicate dinner, brought him fruit, and were using every means by which they could keep up his spirits and buoy up his hopes, confidently assuring him the white men would not yield him up to his ferocious foes. Notwithstanding all their exertions, he was miserable, till informed by me of his safety; and I received the warmest thanks, and even blessings, from his “fair” friends, as if I had conferred upon each a personal favour.
The man being now in safety, we determined to demand satisfaction for the affront which had been put upon us, and we sent George word we could not again receive him into our house unless he made an ample apology for his behaviour, painting in strong colours how deeply our feelings had been wounded, and how much this indignity had lowered us in the esteem of all our acquaintances.
After some consultation among their leading men upon the subject of our message, King George presented himself at the door of our hut, and, in the most humble manner, surrendered his musket; and shortly after his brother Kiney Kiney did the same. Thus we gained our point, and received both payment and apologies for their violent behaviour. Friendship being thus restored, we soon gave them back their muskets, to their infinite surprise and satisfaction.
On reflection, I felt quite convinced that the natives liked us the better for what we had done: it afforded them also a lesson of humanity, for they all well knew we had no other object in view when we stood forward to defend the poor fellow, who had relied upon our promise of protecting him. Several chiefs told us that they greatly admired our principles, and should always feel themselves quite safe with men like us, who would risk their own lives rather than break their word, or desert a friend in the hour of danger.
At the close of this eventful day we received another token of peace, which was in its manner simple and affecting, and not such as could have been expected from a nation of savages. A procession of young girls approached our door, each bearing a basket: some were filled with nicely cooked potatoes, others with various fruits and flowers, which they set down before us, chanting, in a low voice, a song in praise of our recent exploit; a man bearing a very large fish closed the procession; he repeated the song also. We were informed that these presents had been sent by King George as a ratification of friendship, for the New Zealanders never think a reconciliation perfected till you have again eaten and drank with them.
Two important conclusions may be drawn from the termination of this affair: first, that if a spirited interference takes place on the part of the Europeans, murder may be at times prevented, as we actually rescued a mortal foe from the vengeance of an exasperated enemy; and, secondly, their efforts to restore amity proves their extreme desire to have white people settle amongst them.
About a week after this event we witnessed a most extraordinary ceremony, which partook more of the ludicrous than the horrible, though I have no doubt it was regarded by the natives as a most solemn affair. For some days we had been honoured by the presence of a great priest, or one of their chief tabooers; he came for the purpose of discussing with the chiefs the affairs of the nation, particularly the approaching war with the tribe of the Thames; and the day set apart for the discussion of the principal points was ushered in by a rich feast, not of pork nor fish, nor even the kumara, but of two old, sturdy, large dogs!
I was much surprised on rising one morning to see Kiney Kiney, with several chiefs of the highest rank, stripped, and performing the offices of the meanest slave (the washing the feet of the pilgrims by cardinals and persons of rank in Rome came instantly to my remembrance). These chiefs were making a fire and cooking. I was still more astonished, on approaching them, to find the nature of the food they were singeing and scraping. This bow-wow meat they were preparing after the fashion of pork: pigs being the only quadruped they have ever seen cooked, they of course are not acquainted with any other way of dressing the animal creation, and a sad bungling job they made of it; for the dogs were old and tough, and the hair adhered most pertinaciously to the skin, and in many places would not come off.
There were only five persons allowed to partake of this delicious meal, which was, as well as the five partakers, strictly taboo’d for the whole of that day: and we strongly recommended them to hold a similar feast every day, until they had cleared the country of these canine nuisances, the dogs being the greatest pests they have.
CHAPTER XLII.
WAR-LIKE EXPEDITION TO THE THAMES.
One morning I was roused out of a sound sleep by continued discharges of musketry from a number of war canoes. I jumped up instantly in alarm; but I soon discovered them to be Atoi and his party, who had been absent about two months on a war-like expedition to the Thames, and they were now returning successful.
I had witnessed the departure of this expedition, and considered it in the light of a reconnoitring party. I could not make out what the real object was they had been in search of; but, wherever they had been, they had been victorious, for they now returned with quantities of plunder, human heads, human flesh, and many prisoners! After the dance and sham fight had been duly gone through, they proceeded to land their cargo of spoil. First came a group of miserable creatures, women and children, torn by violence from their native homes, henceforth to be the slaves of their conquerors; some were miserably wounded and lacerated, others looked half-starved, but all seemed wretched and dejected.
The women of Kororarika, with their usual humanity, instantly surrounded them, and endeavoured to console them, and then shed abundance of tears over them. I enquired of one of the warriors what they had done with the male prisoners: he coolly replied, they had all been eaten, except some “titbits,” which had been packed up in the baskets and brought on shore, in order to regale particular friends and favourites!
They had also brought with them several heads, which they have the art of preparing in their native ovens, so as not to disfigure the countenance nor injure the figure tatoo’d upon them. One of these, the skull of a distinguished chief, seemed to afford them amazing delight. Most of our people had known him well, and several of his near relations were present: but cruel war seemed to have eradicated every feeling of humanity; for all appeared to contemplate this ghastly object with great satisfaction. These heads were decorated profusely with yellow and red ribbons, and with white feathers: they were then stuck upon short poles, and placed, with great ceremony, in front of the old Queen Turero’s house; who, sitting at the door, received this token of respect with approval and condescension.
The group altogether formed an interesting picture of savage manners, in which ferocity was strongly blended with humanity, for their respect and devotion to the old sybil was manifested as feelingly as their hatred towards those whom they call their enemies: in fact, the young warrior chiefs presenting to her (as was the case with several) their first spoils of conquest, reminded me of young lions bringing part of the spoils of the chase to their aged dam.
In this affray only a few of Atoi’s party had been wounded, and twenty-five of the enemy had been killed. It was a fortunate circumstance for the wretched prisoners that none of the conquering party had been killed; for, if that had been the case, there would have been a dreadful slaughter of the captives on their arrival at the village, an act of cruelty never dispensed with. This sight I dreaded I should encounter when I went to witness the disembarkation; but, hoping that my presence might be some restraint upon their barbarities, I awaited the result with as much firmness as I was master of.
[Illustration: Old Pa and Whalers at Bay of Islands.]
CHAPTER XLIII.
VISITS OF WHALERS.
Two South Sea whalers were at this time lying in the bay: the Anne, from London, a full ship; and the Lynx, from Sydney. Since I have been living here, five vessels of this description have visited us; and many others would have touched here but for the want of proper regulations, and a dread of the dispositions of the natives. There being here no representatives of the British Government, the crews of whalers are often involved in disputes with the natives. This want of Government support has also frightened other vessels away; their commanders preferring going on to Port Jackson, where they half ruin themselves by the unavoidable expenses they incur. Even when their vessels have anchored here, the thoughtlessness and eccentricity of this class of men, when they are under no restraint or control, has sometimes not only led to disputes with the natives, but with each other, which eventually have proved equally detrimental. In short, New Zealand is a place of such vast importance to so many lucrative branches of British trade, that it must be well worthy the speedy attention of our Government at home.
We spoke frequently to our friend George, as well as to several other of their powerful chiefs, respecting the erection of a small fort with a British garrison, and of permanently hoisting the English flag. They always expressed the utmost delight at the idea; and, from all I have seen of them, I feel convinced it would prove a most politic measure. George (who had visited Port Jackson) said: “This country is finer than Port Jackson; yet the English go and settle there. Our people are much better than the black natives of New South Wales, and yet you English live amongst them in preference to us.”
The ship Anne, Captain Gray, was out three years, and during that period she never entered a civilised port. She had touched twice at this bay, and had cruised four months on the coast of Japan, off Timor, through the Sandwich and Friendly Islands, and passed several times over the Pacific Ocean, in order to obtain a cargo of sperm oil, which she at length accomplished; and was at this time here to refit for her voyage home to England round Cape Horn, having picked up most of her cargo off this port.
For twelve years past, notwithstanding all the disadvantages, this has been the favourite resort for ships in the above-mentioned trade. Here, surrounded with savages and cannibals, they heave down their vessels, land the cargoes and stores, and carry on work, both on board and on shore, in tolerable security. The safety of the harbour, the facility of wooding and watering, the supplies of pigs and potatoes, tempt them to run the risk of placing themselves in the power of capricious and barbarous people.
It has been imagined that the residence of missionaries would have the effect of civilising the natives, and adding to the safety of ships touching here; but experience fully proves the fallacy of such an expectation. These people, abstracted by their own gloomy reflections, look with contempt on all who are in the pursuit of “worldly wealth”; and regard the arrival of a whaler as an enemy coming to interfere with the spiritual interests of “their flock,” as they term the inhabitants, though I never yet saw one proselyte of their converting.
They never visit a whaler except on a Sunday, and then it is to beg for the benefit of their society. It cannot, therefore, be expected that much sympathy can exist between parties, where the cold formality of one excites the contempt and disgust of the other.
The ship Anne, of which I have formerly spoken, arrived here lately from Wahoo, one of the Sandwich Islands, which possesses the advantage of a British consul. The pacific disposition and orderly government of the natives do not require a British garrison, or any war-like force; and of the excellent effects produced by this representation of our Government Captain Gray speaks with admiration and enthusiasm. The harbours were crowded with shipping; houses, nay, even streets, were beginning to appear; the savage character of the people was gradually subsiding into industrious and peaceful occupations; and comfort and prosperity were spreading their benign influence over the whole island: yet Wahoo is not nearly so well situated as a rendezvous for South Sea whalers as New Zealand; at least so I have been informed by all the captains of those ships who have conversed with me on the subject.
It is rather a remarkable and novel circumstance that the natives, who have been now for fourteen or fifteen years in close intercourse and carrying on traffic with Europeans, should not, in the course of that period, understand the nature and value of money; a laughable instance of which occurred to us a few days since. A native came to our house with a serious countenance and business-like manner, and said he wished to purchase a musket: we asked to see what he had brought in exchange for one, when, with great ceremony, he produced a copper penny piece in the way of payment. The poor fellow had, doubtless, seen some one pass a doubloon, and had mistaken his penny for one; as a doubloon is about the price given for a musket in our regulated list of charges. We, of course, refrained from laughter; but he was quite astonished and mortified when he was made to understand we could not trade with him. He took a stroll round the beach, offering his penny, by way of barter, to every white man he met, but everywhere with equally bad success.
CHAPTER XLIV.
VISIT OF TWO SOUTH SEA ISLANDERS.
When our brig left Tucopea she brought away two natives of that island, who had most earnestly entreated the captain to take them off, and leave them upon any other land he pleased, as, according to their statement, Tucopea was so overstocked with inhabitants that it was scarcely possible to find subsistence; and the scarcity of food had become so general, that parents destroyed their children rather than witness their sufferings from famine. Captain Kent, therefore, from motives of compassion, received them on board his ship; and, not having touched at any inhabited spot, brought them with him here. Their extraordinary appearance excited a great deal of surprise, both among Europeans and New Zealanders. They appeared simple, timid creatures, though stout and comely, but their hair was unlike anything I had before beheld, as in length it reached below the waist, and was so abundantly thick as completely to conceal their faces. By some curious chemical process which the natives of Tucopea have discovered, they render their hair a bright sulphur colour; and, as this mass of yellow hangs over their faces and shoulders, they bear the most striking resemblance to the lion monkeys of the Brazils.
These poor creatures, upon landing, shook with fear, and trembled greatly when they beheld the New Zealanders, whose character for cannibalism had reached even their remote island: when our friend George went up to them, and lifted up (in order to examine closely) the curious mass of hair in which they were enveloped, they burst into a passionate fit of tears, and ran up to us for protection. The New Zealanders, with characteristic cunning, perceiving the horror they had created, tormented them still more cruelly, by making grotesque signs, as if they were about to commence devouring them; and, at the same time (like most savages), evincing the most sovereign contempt for them, from their apparent pusillanimity.
After they had been some days on shore, we had a very diverting scene with them, which exhibited strongly the great difference there is in the nature of the two classes of savages we now had such opportunities of observing. I had brought my violin from Sydney, on which I used to play occasionally. The New Zealanders generally expressed the greatest dislike to it; and my companions used to rally me much on the subject, saying it was not that the savages did not like music, but it was my discordant playing that frightened them away, which might be true. It was, however, a useful discovery for us all, as I often took that method of civilly driving them out of our house when we grew tired of their company. But when I began to play before the Tucopeans, the effect it had instantly upon them was ludicrous in the extreme. They sprang up, and began dancing most furiously; at the same time, so waving their heads about as to keep their long hair extended at its fullest length: as I played faster, they quickened their pace. A lively Scotch reel seemed to render them nearly frantic; and when I ceased playing, they threw themselves down on the floor quite exhausted, and unable to articulate a word. I have observed (generally speaking) that savages are not much affected by music; but these two Tucopeans were excited to a most extraordinary degree.
CHAPTER XLV.
THE DEATH OF HONGI.
We at length received authentic intelligence of the death of the celebrated Hongi. Finding his dissolution fast approaching, he convened a meeting of all the neighbouring chiefs; and as many as could reach the spot in time attended. The wounded warrior expired, surrounded by the men he had so frequently led to battle and conquest. After the numerous and desperate risks he had run, the many encounters he had sustained with various enemies, it appeared extraordinary to us Europeans that he should die quietly in his hut. It is the custom to keep a guarded and mysterious silence relating to the subjects which are spoken of by a dying chief. I questioned several who had attended Hongi: all spoke with the greatest solemnity of his last moments. One sentence (uttered by him) was all I could obtain after much manoeuvring, and that was spoken but a few minutes before he breathed his last, which was, that “Shulitea (viz., our friend George) would not live one week longer than himself”; but, as our patron was in perfect health at the time, and all seemed peaceful around him, I only laughed at the improbability of the prophecy being fulfilled.
The natives of New Zealand pay the greatest respect to courage and war-like talents: these were the only distinguishing characteristics of Hongi; yet, by possessing these, he was more feared, and had a greater number of followers, than any other chief in the island. His hereditary possessions were but small, and his name was little known; yet his undaunted courage, his skill, and success in many sanguinary battles, made him, at length, a most powerful chief, and obtained for him that which is considered wealth in this country, namely, an immense number of slaves. In his last moments he was attended by more men of rank than had ever before assembled to witness the dissolution of a warrior, and this is considered the greatest proof of attention and respect one chieftain can show towards another.
CHAPTER XLVI.
A TRIBAL CONFLICT.
Our brig now sailed for Hokianga to take in a cargo of planks; and my friend, Mr. Shand, being tired of wandering, accompanied her; but I, being still anxious to procure more sketches of this interesting country, determined to remain as long as possible, and to take one more walk across the island, and join the brig by the time she was loaded. I was preparing to start on my last pedestrian tour, when a chain of events occurred which threw all the tribes into confusion. Bloodshed and devastation stared me in the face from all quarters; and from the state of security I had imagined myself to be in, I was roused to behold myself beset with difficulties; to crown which, our brig, which would have been a place of safety and refuge, was now on the opposite side of the island.
Arising from a trifling circumstance, which was partly caused by us, though innocently, Pomare’s only son had lost his life; and, as is usual among savage tribes, the severest retaliation soon took place.
By relating the particulars, the reader will perceive how easily the war-cry is raised among these turbulent savages.
Pomare’s only surviving son. Tiki, was a very finely-formed, handsome young man, of twenty years of age, and he had made an arrangement with a captain of a ship here to supply him with a certain number of hogs. Accordingly, accompanied by a party of his friends, he started into the interior for the purpose of collecting them. In making his selection, he not only proceeded to drive off some of his own, but actually laid claim to, and began marching away with, some belonging to his neighbours. The right owners remonstrated with him in vain. He, being an insolent, over-bearing young fellow, persisted in his unjust claims, and set them all at defiance. They were compelled to yield up their property, as his tribe was a most powerful one; and Tiki was driving away the stolen hogs in triumph, when a sudden stop was put to his predatory career. Finding words were of no avail to induce the young man to restore the swine, one of the injured party had recourse to a musket. A bullet, aimed from behind a tree, killed Tiki on the spot; but from whose hand it came could only be conjectured. The greatest confusion instantly took place. His companions, being well armed, the war-cry was immediately raised; and the fray becoming general, seven more lives were lost.
When the account of this melancholy affair reached our beach, everyone flew to arms, even all the women, for the young man was a general favourite. The war-cry spread in every direction. “Here,” they exclaimed, “is the last of the Pomare family killed treacherously, a warrior related to and connected with every chief of consequence in the country, and a nephew of the great Shulitea.” The cry for blood and revenge was universal. I must confess that, added to the danger it placed me in, I was much shocked when I heard of the fate of poor Tiki, for he was one of our particular friends, and had passed many an evening in our hut. I had taken leave of him only the day before, when he had set out, full of health and spirits, on this hog expedition, which had terminated thus fatally.
The death of this young man excited the highest indignation in the minds of his countrymen, as well as in those of his numerous intimate friends and relations; for a report was industriously circulated that he had fallen by the hands of a slave. This was considered by his tribe as a degradation infinitely worse than the murder itself. The offended chiefs assembled on our beach, with all their followers, armed: and none appeared more indignant at the transaction than our friend George, who, with his brother Kiney Kiney, placed themselves at the head of the party, to revenge the insult which had been offered them.
The night before they started on this expedition, George spent the evening with us. He was in particularly low spirits, and said he did not at all like the business he was going upon: but, as he was the nearest relation of the deceased, and the eldest of the tribe, he went in hopes of being able to prevent a great effusion of blood, and also to restrain the impetuosity of the young men. Little did we then think he would be the first victim; although his unusual depression of mind brought to my remembrance the prophecy of Hongi, and, spite of my endeavours to banish my forebodings, I felt convinced that the prediction would in all probability be fulfilled.
Three days had elapsed from the time the avenging party had gone on their mission, when, at midnight, a messenger, faint and nearly exhausted, arrived on our beach with the following dreadful intelligence; and that night no other sounds were heard than those of agony and woe, the yelling of women, and the shrieks of slaves.
The substance of the man’s information was, that George and the offending party had met; but, as several days had passed since the murder of their friend, their feelings were in some degree appeased, and they had contented themselves with a general plunder of whatever property their enemies possessed. They had spared their lives, and the outrage was considered as atoned for. The chiefs were on their return home, laden with spoil, when, like other coalesced armies, disagreements began to take place among themselves, and discord long smothered, broke out in every quarter of the camp.
George, the principal person of their party, was the one marked to be dissatisfied with. All were jealous of him, in consequence of his possessions at Kororarika giving him such a decided advantage over every other tribe, by his trade and intercourse with Europeans. It is probable, also, that as the other tribes went forth with an intention to fight, they were resolved not to be disappointed, and therefore determined to create a feud among themselves, rather than return home devoid of the pleasures or the trophies of a combat.
Some irritating language had been uttered by both sides, when an accident of a fatal nature took place, which produced an instantaneous and general appeal to arms. At the close of the day a halt was made, as usual, and each party began erecting their temporary huts to pass the night in. One of George’s wives, assisted by a little boy, his nephew, was busily engaged in constructing one; arms and baggage of every description being strewed about in all directions. At this period a lad took up one of George’s muskets, and began to play with it; but not understanding the management of it, he, by his injudicious handling, accidentally discharged the piece, and killed both the wife and nephew, the ball passing through both their bodies.
The sensation produced by this unfortunate accident may readily be conceived. As the woman who was killed was related to the tribe who had been disputing with George all day, her death furnished an ostensible motive for open war; and before the real cause of the accident could be explained, another shot was fired, which wounded a chief of the name of Moo-de-wy in the thigh. This proved the signal for a general fight: each party ran to their arms, ranged themselves under their different leaders, and a general discharge of muskets immediately took place.
Almost at the beginning of the combat George received a shot, which broke both his legs: his brother and friends endeavoured to support him in their arms. It being then nearly dark, added much to the confusion, as it was difficult to distinguish friend from foe; indeed, so sudden had been the onset, that many could scarcely have been aware of the cause of the contest. But our unhappy friend, who seemed particularly marked out in this unfortunate affray, soon after received another bullet, which struck him on the throat, and terminated his existence; thus dying before a week had passed since the death of his rival Hongi. I heard from one of his friends who supported him in his last moments, that he died like a hero: finding both his legs were broken, and that consequently he was totally unable to move, he begged those friends who were about him to leave him to his fate, and either again enter the fight, or make their escape while they yet had time. He then gave his musket to one, took off his mantle to present to another, and while thus in the act of exhorting his friends and distributing amongst them his tokens of regard, he received his death-wound, and expired without a groan. When George fell, a general flight took place; and though the engagement had lasted but a short time, great numbers had fallen on both sides.
CHAPTER XLVII.
THE DEATH OF KING GEORGE AND ITS CONSEQUENCES.
This news caused mourning and lamentation along our beach, and filled all the Europeans with dismay. We could not calculate the extent of the injury we might receive, but felt certain we should be considerable sufferers in some way or other. The light of day seemed to add to, rather than to diminish, the moans of George’s faithful subjects. The violent sobbings from every dwelling were most dismal. Groups were scattered about, forming small crying parties, and cutting their skins deeply with knives and pieces of broken glass; in short, nothing was heard but yelling and groaning, and nothing was seen but streams of blood!
But however shocked I might feel by the train of accidents and deaths which had made such cruel havoc amongst my friends, and notwithstanding my sincere grief and regret for the fate of poor George, who was a most humane and intelligent chief, and particularly kind to all the English; the predicament in which I was now placed demanded all my energies, for I felt that I stood in a situation of great danger.
I have before noticed their barbarous custom, on the death of a chief, of plundering his family and friends. As we had always been considered as a part of George’s family, living under his protection, adopted by him, and admitted into his tribe, I entertained great suspicions that we also should be sufferers by the general plunder about to take place: besides, I was so circumstanced as to be obliged to cross the country with all my goods, and my route lay through the territories of all those chiefs who had been fighting against George; and I was at no loss to guess in what light they would regard me. Depending, too securely, on the general tranquility, I had not sent my luggage by sea, as I might have done, and which would have saved me great anxiety, as I should have ventured alone without fear, but could not manage to carry what I possessed; and to engage any to convey them was an impossibility, for the moment I made the proposition to any (even the meanest of the slaves) to accompany me, they ran off into the bush, nor could any entreaty, presents, or threats induce them to venture with me; so, for security, I removed all the property I had, and went with it on board the Marianne, whaler.
For three days after the death of George, all gave themselves up to grief; no work was done, and not an individual was to be seen but in an agony of tears. I began to feel strangely affected with melancholy myself, when, on the fourth morning, a scene of bustle took place, and low spirits were banished by tumult, noise, and confusion.
At six o’clock on that morning we discovered upwards of twenty sail of war canoes, crowded with armed warriors, coming into the bay. What their intentions were we could not imagine; but for fear of the worst, the ships in the harbour shotted their guns, and when the canoes were abreast of us, we fired a blank one over their heads. On this they all stopped, and we saw some stir amongst them: at length a very small canoe left the main body, and pulled directly towards us; it contained the chief persons of the expedition: they came on board, and assured us they meant no harm to any persons; they were merely some of the late George’s friends, who were going to pay a visit of condolence to his relations; and, after making a most hearty breakfast with us, they went on shore, and we accompanied them.
Whether the account they gave of themselves was correct, or the reverse, we knew not at the time; but we felt assured their intentions were not hostile towards us Europeans, and their quarrels with each other we were determined not to interfere in. We soon discovered their falsehood, for George’s eldest daughter informed me that amongst the chiefs who landed with us were several of the most inveterate foes of her father, and that they were only restrained from committing the most dreadful outrages, and carrying off all her relations as slaves, by witnessing the many friends of George by whom they were surrounded. The day was spent in savage dancing, yelling, making speeches, and debating as to who the proper person was to succeed George in his dignities: several times I thought the affair would end in blows. George’s relation, Rivers, made great exertions “to keep the peace,” and finally, by force of argument, succeeded. It was at length unanimously agreed that Kiney Kiney was to succeed his brother, and that Rivers should take the command until the time of Kiney Kiney’s mourning for the loss of George should be completed.
CHAPTER XLVIII.
DEPARTURE FROM BAY OF ISLANDS.
After these important matters were amicably disposed of, I made a sign to Rivers, and, separating him from the crowd, I explained to him the nature of my situation, and asked his assistance in getting me safely over to Hokianga. He replied, there would certainly be great danger in attempting it; but I soon discovered that he magnified the difficulties in order to increase his demand for payment, for even the greatest chiefs have here their price. He said (and I had every reason to think he was correct) that I ran no risk of being molested by any chiefs, like himself, who would always protect rather than molest every European; but that the country being in such a state of commotion, in consequence of the late events, it was full of runaway slaves, who always took advantage of such times to make their escape; and if I chanced to fall in with any of them, I should be exposed to great peril: “However (he added), keep up your spirits; I have two confidential slaves, who shall conduct you over, and carry your luggage, if you will make me a present of a stocking full of powder, a bag of small shot, and a powder-horn.” He also proposed, as he himself was going to the Kirikiri, and thence to a village in the interior, to meet a large assemblage of chiefs, in order to talk over the late tragical events, that I should journey the first part of my way with him, in his own canoe.
Accordingly, after having made preparations for my departure, I took leave of all my friends at the Bay of Islands, both civilised and savage. I must say I felt considerable regret when I found myself really going to take final leave of several native families, with whom I had been on terms of intimacy since my residence here, from whom I had received many proofs of personal regard, and whom, I felt convinced, I should never meet or hear of more; none I regretted parting with more than the family of poor Shulitea; the mere sight of me seemed to rekindle all their grief for the loss of their kinsman, and to remind them more forcibly than ever of his tragical fate. His mother, old Turero, in point of grief, had rivalled Niobe; she had never ceased weeping and lamenting from the time she heard of her son’s death, and had twice attempted to strangle herself. But even in the midst of her passionate sorrow, I could scarcely refrain from laughing, while observing her care and anxiety to get all she could from me. After deploring the sad fate of her dear son, “You know,” she continued, “you promised him that you would send him a handsome new musket from Sydney; and now, poor fellow, he is dead; and cannot shoot with it; but then you must remember that his brother Kiney Kiney is still alive, and he can shoot with it; and poor George would wish that his brother should have his new musket.” This speech I felt quite irresistible; therefore, in order to comfort the old queen, I promised that I would send the musket for her second son; which declaration seemed to afford her great consolation, and considerably abated the violence of her grief.
Just at the dawn of morning we started from the bay in Rivers’ canoe, accompanied by his wife, one child, and the two stout slaves he had mentioned to me. My luggage, which consisted of one leathern portmanteau and my bed, was placed in the centre. I had also provided myself with a small basket of cooked meat, with bread, and a small bottle of brandy, which was given me by the captain of one of the whalers. The day broke around us with more than usual brightness; the dewy mists of night were just rising from the waters, and the huge and abrupt forms of the mountains were beginning to develop themselves; flights of wild ducks and stray birds skimmed rapidly by us. The thoughts that crowded my mind were strange and varied, while contemplating scenes of such tranquil beauty as were now presented, glowing with the tints of the rising sun. I contrasted these with the difficulties and dangers I might have to encounter from hordes of ferocious savages, who, now flushed with conquest, were plotting murder and destruction against each other: even a glance at my companions banished all peaceful illusions. While the wife, son, and slaves were using the paddles with the greatest exertions, Rivers was carefully examining his weapons. The beauty of the morning and the romantic scenery was unnoticed: his thoughts were directed solely to contemplating the depth and the width of my stocking of powder, which seemed to afford him infinite satisfaction. He had with him a beautiful double-barrelled gun, and a very good Tower musket; and seeing so many wild ducks fly past, he drew the bullet out of one of the barrels of the former, and, with some of my stock of small shot, fired occasionally amongst them.
At about eight o’clock a light sea breeze sprang up: they then set their sail, and all went to sleep, excepting one slave, who was employed to steer the canoe; so that I had ample time to ruminate upon my solitary and perilous situation. The tide failed us at twelve o’clock, and we then went on shore, kindled a fire, and soon collected such a supply of shell-fish as furnished us a splendid repast. Here we remained till the flood-tide set in strong, when, again hoisting our sail, we arrived at the Kirikiri about sunset.
I here found the missionaries in the greatest consternation and dismay, and learned that it was one of the chiefs of Hokianga who had shot George, and they dreaded lest the result of that deed should be that the whole of the savage tribes on that part of the island would be opposed to each other; that combats would ensue; and which side soever might be victorious, it would prove equally injurious to them, as they had settlements on both sides of the island. But their greatest alarm was occasioned by their possessions at Hokianga, as the most violent depredations were there being committed; and as this was the very point of my destination, the news was not very consolatory to me. “So anxious,” said one of “the brethren” to me, “were we to inform our Christian brethren of our danger, that we actually gave a _warm piece_ to a native to carry a letter over to you, although that is strictly contrary to our orders.” I expressed a desire to know what he meant by a _warm piece_; he kicked his foot against the stock of a gun I had at the time in my hand; and, looking at me with an expression of the greatest contempt, said, “It is what _you worldly_ folks call a musket!”
They were making considerable preparations to repair to the great meeting of the chiefs, to which Rivers was journeying. This was a wise and politic measure for them to pursue; and they were highly delighted to have such an addition to their party as this well-known chief; and though they would not acknowledge it, their satisfaction was very visible. I earnestly requested them to inform me candidly, from all they had heard, whether they thought I might, with safety, venture across the country; but I could get nothing from them but vague and mysterious answers: one thing, however, they made me very clearly understand; which was, that they neither cared for me nor for my drawings; that their own safety engrossed all their thoughts; and that a worldly-minded, misguided creature like me was but as dust in the balance, compared to such godly people as themselves, who were now placed in jeopardy. They, without scruple, applied quotations from the Scriptures to themselves, such as, “Why do the heathen so furiously rage,” etc., etc.
My necessities compelled me to request a favour from them, which was, that they would allow one of their boys, who could speak English, to accompany me, as our loads were heavy; and his being known to belong to their establishment I thought might be some protection; but the short answer of the monosyllable “_No_” soon made me repent having asked it. I spread my bed in one of their empty rooms; and started at daybreak next morning, with my two native slaves. I could not banish from my remembrance the inhospitable conduct of these missionaries; they never even inquired whether I had any provision for a journey they themselves would not have dared to undertake, which was evident by their giving a native a _warm piece_ for merely taking a letter for them. As my shoes were nearly worn out, and I had a long distance to go, over execrable roads, I had intended asking them for a new pair, as they had abundance of everything of the kind sent to them from England, to distribute to the needy (and I fully came under that description of character); but finding them so selfish and cold-hearted, and meeting with one refusal, I refrained, and set off, literally almost barefooted.
CHAPTER XLIX.
THE JOURNEY TO HOKIANGA.
We journeyed on all day by a road I had never been before, my attendants evidently taking by-paths to avoid meeting stragglers or runaways. I was well laden, having to carry my musket and my basket of provisions; and each of my men, in addition to the loads I had placed on his shoulders, bore a basket of potatoes. Once or twice, during our route, we saw some persons at a distance, and I was sorry to notice the great alarm it occasioned to my companions, as I now had every reason to apprehend, that, in case of danger, they would slip off their burdens, make their escape, and leave me and my baggage to my fate, which the missionaries had told me they considered a thing very likely to happen. Once we heard a great firing of muskets, which I afterwards ascertained to be the _feu de joie_ fired at the first meeting of the chiefs, at their grand assembling in the neutral village.
At night, we arrived safe at Patuone’s Village, where I had slept on my first journey across the island; but it now presented a very different appearance to what it had done then; instead of the tumult I had formerly heard, all was silence; the numerous families then there, all fully occupied, were exchanged for a few old surly-looking slaves, and the huts were all deserted. The inhabitants, in consequence of the rumour of approaching war, having betaken themselves to one of their fortified pas, I had no alternative but to pass the night with these suspicious-looking creatures, who, feeling themselves beyond the control of their cruel masters, soon gave way to their own vile passions, and became most impertinent and intrusive–taking every advantage of my loneliness to indulge their curiosity and familiarity.
On my arrival, I had deposited my things in one of the empty huts, and spread my bed, hoping to enjoy the luxury of a few hours’ repose after the fatigue and great anxieties of the day; but these fellows would force themselves into the hut I had chosen, where they lighted a fire, and sat chattering around it all the night long. Finding that I did not appear alarmed at their intrusion or noise, they kept doing everything they could think of to rouse my fears. They threatened to break open my portmanteau; and one old wretch sharpened his knife, and made motions as though he were going to cut my throat and eat me. I knew my only chance of safety was not to betray any sign of apprehension; so I forced a laugh, and made them believe I considered their tricks an excellent joke. I gave them all my tobacco to keep them in good humour; but I passed a most miserable night, nearly suffocated with smoke, distracted with their noise, and annoyed by vermin of every description.
I was most happy when daybreak gave me an excuse for leaving these brutal savages, and resuming my journey. Every step I took brought before me proofs of the horrors of war: villages which had been crowded, were now entirely desolate, and, in many instances, burned to the ground. On that spot where I had left a party of enterprising Scotchmen busily employed in sawing timber, with crowds of natives assisting them, all was quiet and totally deserted, with the exception of a few nearly starved, wretched-looking dogs, who, hearing someone approach, came out, and tried to bark at us, but were too weak to utter a sound.
CHAPTER L.
EUROPEAN PREPARATIONS FOR DEFENCE.
Our march along the banks of the river was through a most beautiful country; but all the inhabitants had fled; their plantations were in a most luxuriant state; fields which I had left bare and uncultivated were now covered with Indian corn standing higher than my head, the ripe ears hanging fantastically in all directions, and none to gather in the harvest; the crops of kumara and potatoes were equally abundant. I could not help thinking that, if they expected an invasion of their enemies, they had left an ample supply of forage for their use. In the evening I arrived at Horeke, or Deptford Dock-yard (of which I made mention in my first journey). I here found my countrymen in a state of considerable embarrassment. The various chiefs of that district had encamped all round them; so near to them had they taken up their position, that, whatever might be the result of their battles, the European settlement would be in danger. The settlers had fortified their place of refuge in the best manner they could; and all were determined to defend themselves and property to the last. They had four nine-pounders mounted on a hill, and a tolerable battery made of three-inch pine stuff.
Before the English erected their fortifications, there was a great difference of opinion amongst them as to the propriety and utility of adopting so strong a measure, and the affair was finally put to the vote, when the majority proved to be in favour of a strong resistance. I opposed the measure all I could, for I felt convinced that in the event of our allies being worsted we all should be involved in one common massacre; whereas, if no resistance was made, plunder alone would have been the extent of the injury we should suffer; and even of that taking place I had strong doubts. However, as my opinion was overruled, I had to submit, which I did unhesitatingly; and, like a good soldier, I held myself in readiness in case of an attack.
The proprietor and manager of the Dock-yard possessed certainly a “satisfying reason” for striving to defend himself at all hazards. The vessel I had left here, on my former visit, in frame, was now nearly completed, and a most beautiful one she was. He told me he would much rather part with life than see her destroyed; and I confess I could fully enter into his feelings on the subject; but as I had no such object at stake, and was not quite enthusiastic enough to fight for a vessel I had no share in, I felt very much inclined to let the natives war among themselves without interference; but as we Europeans had agreed to assist each other, I would not be behind-hand.
I discharged Rivers’ two slaves, and rewarded them liberally for conducting me with safety through such a wild and perilous country; they departed (after expressing the heartiest wishes for my reaching my own home in safety, and thanks for my generosity) to join their master at the great meeting of the chiefs in the interior. These men, while assisting me, were performing a great service to their master, by acting as spies. When we started from the Kirikiri each was armed with a musket; but when we had accomplished about half the journey, they concealed these in a hollow tree, under pretence of extreme fatigue. I felt convinced at the time that was not their real reason for so doing; and afterwards I learned the true motive. Had they been found armed when returning to their master (who was hostile to those assembled round the Dock-yard), they would have been detained; but, by their coming unarmed amongst us, they were suffered to depart; and I have no doubt the information they carried back to Rivers was very important. I did not mention to anyone the hiding of these muskets in the woods, though, according to “The Articles of War,” I ought to have done so, as getting possession of them would have added two more to our strength, and lessened that of our enemy; my silence arose from a repugnance I felt to betray these poor creatures, who had behaved so well to me.
Although prepared for war, we were very well pleased to find no attack was made upon us. Indeed, from the first, it had been my decided opinion, that unless we interfered, and made ourselves by that means obnoxious, they had too much respect for us, and were too anxious to retain our kindly feelings towards them, to molest us; at the same time, I felt that it might be a very politic measure to show them what powerful resistance we could make, if driven to extremities.
After passing a week of the greatest anxiety, on account of our expected invasion, it afforded us the utmost satisfaction to receive a visit from Mr. Hobbs, the Wesleyan missionary, one of the persons who had visited the war-camp of the assembled chiefs, who were convened, on the death of our lamented friend George, to debate and decide upon the momentous question of peace or war.
The subject (our informant stated) had been gone into at great length, and stormy and fierce had been the discussion. Finally, the good sense of the elder and more experienced chiefs prevailed over the fiercer passions of the younger, and peace was decided upon. This event forms a new era in “The Political History of the Few Zealanders,” it being the first time so great an assemblage had met to discuss openly a national question, or in which they had allowed cool reasoning and good sense to prevail over their habitual ferocity. As may naturally be supposed, where such various interests were at stake, this pacific measure was not effected without considerable opposition from the young and furious chiefs. The provocations given by them to the elders, whose voices were for peace, were considerable. They did not confine themselves to abuse, but fired several muskets during debate, in hopes that one shot out of the many might prove fatal; which, if it had, and any distinguished chief had been killed, or even wounded, it would have immediately thrown all into confusion. Even when pacific measures were decided upon by a very large majority, and the chiefs were about to separate, a bullet was fired from the pa, which had evidently been aimed at a chief, a well-known ally of the late Shulitea, as it fell at his feet, and the earth it threw up fell upon him. For a few seconds surprise kept all silent; but, as the angry chief rose up, and was about to address the crowd, his friends eagerly surrounded him, and hurried him away.
This was the first instance on record, in which these people had laid a statement of their private wrongs before a public assembly consisting of deputies from every part of the island, and abided by the decision of the majority; and it was the only instance of a chief being killed in battle, and his decease not having been followed up by the plundering and destruction of his whole family or tribe.
This had been a question of peculiar interest to us Europeans, as several of their great men had fallen in a skirmish (whether an accidental one or a decided combat made not the slightest difference). We knew their barbarous custom; and, consequently, we were preparing for scenes of deadly revenge and insatiable fury to be acted by both parties, and which must have involved all settled here in destruction. Our feelings may therefore be imagined, when we were informed that a parliament had been convened, and all the parties interested were present by invitation, and took part in the debate. A central spot was fixed on to accommodate the various chieftains. The causes of the accident were then explained; they wept and lamented the fallen chiefs, and finally retired satisfied to their several homes. Surely everyone who is interested in tracing our own form of government, from the present time up to its first rude outline, will perceive the similarity of causes and events, and will anticipate the glorious prospect of beholding a clever, brave, and, I may add, noble race of men, like the New Zealanders, rescued from barbarism. This pacific and rational discussion among the chiefs seems, in reality, to give promise of the germ of a regular reform. Should a few more such meetings take place, and terminate in the same amicable manner (and I think it very probable), some clever individual may rise up amongst them, take the reins in his own hands, and establish something like a regular form of government.
CHAPTER LI.
OBSERVATIONS ON THE SOCIAL CONDITIONS OF THE MAORIS.
Feeling that I was not likely now to be called upon to act offensively, I considered myself at liberty to make numerous excursions round our fortress, not only to admire this fertile and beautiful country, but to visit some of my old friends. I was very much astonished and shocked at seeing several very beautiful young women, whom I left only a few months back in perfect health and strength, now reduced to mere “living skeletons,” and also to hear of the death of others by consumption. This disease seems to be the scourge of the young; and when they are once seized with its symptoms, they are very speedily brought to the grave. The natives say, “It is Atua, the Great Spirit, coming into them, and eating up their inside; for the patient can feel those parts gradually go away, and then they become weaker and weaker till no more is left; after which the Spirit sends them to the happy island.” They never attempt any means of curing or of alleviating the pains caused by this cruel complaint; and all those under its influence are tabooed. I procured from the brig all my remaining stores of tapioca, sago, arrowroot, and sugar, and distributed them in the best way I could amongst my sick friends. They were anxious for wine; but that portion of my sea-stock, as well as spirits, had been long since expended.
It seems unaccountable that the natives of an atmosphere so dry as this is–a country in which there are no marshy bogs, and where, though there is an abundance of water, it is generally seen in clear and sparkling rills rushing down from the mountains into the rivers–should be subject to so fatal a disease as galloping consumption. The only cause to which I can attribute such an affliction is, their indifference to lying out all night exposed to every change of weather–to cold and rain–which, in young and tender constitutions, must produce the most pernicious consequences. If some few are rendered hardy and robust by this process, many, no doubt, are killed by it. I endeavoured to impress on the minds of all my female friends the great danger of thus exposing themselves to cold; but they only laughed at my precautions, and said, “If Atua wished it, so it must be; they could not strive with the Great Spirit.”
I have heard so much said about the great impropriety of the white settlers admitting the native females into their society, so much of the scandalous conduct of captains of ships suffering their men to have sweethearts during their stay in port, and so much urged in justification of the indignation shown by the missionaries when this subject is touched on by them, that I feel it necessary to state one decided benefit which has resulted from that intercourse, and which, in my opinion, far more than counterbalances the evil against which there has been raised so loud an outcry.
Before our intercourse took place with the New Zealanders, a universal and unnatural custom existed amongst them, which was that of destroying most of their female children in infancy, their excuse being that they were quite as much trouble to rear, and consumed just as much food, as a male child, and yet, when grown up, they were not fit to go to war as their boys were. The strength and pride of a chief then consisted in the number of his sons; while the few females who had been suffered to live were invariably looked down upon by all with the utmost contempt. They led a life of misery and degradation. The difference now is most remarkable. The natives, seeing with what admiration strangers beheld their fine young women, and what handsome presents were made to them, by which their families were benefited, feeling also that their influence was so powerful over the white men, have been latterly as anxious to cherish and protect their infant girls as they were formerly cruelly bent on destroying them. Therefore, if one sin has been, to a certain degree, encouraged, a much greater one has been annihilated. Infanticide, the former curse of this country, and the cause of its scanty population, a crime every way calculated to make men bloody-minded and ferocious, and to stifle every benevolent and tender feeling, has totally disappeared wherever an intercourse has taken place between the natives and the crews of European vessels.
The New Zealand method of “courtship and matrimony” is a most extraordinary one; so much so, that an observer could never imagine any affection existed between the parties. A man sees a woman whom he fancies he should like for a wife; he asks the consent of her father, or, if an orphan, of her nearest relation, which, if he obtains, he carries his “intended” off by force, she resisting with all her strength; and, as the New Zealand girls are generally pretty robust, sometimes a dreadful struggle takes place; both are soon stripped to the skin, and it is sometimes the work of hours to remove the fair prize a hundred yards. If she breaks away, she instantly flies from her antagonist, and he has his labour to commence again. We may suppose that if the lady feels any wish to be united to her would-be spouse, she will not make too violent an opposition; but it sometimes happens that she secures her retreat into her father’s house, and the lover loses all chance of ever obtaining her; whereas, if he can manage to carry her in triumph into his own, she immediately, becomes his wife. The women have a decided aversion to marriage, which can scarcely be wondered at, when we consider how they are circumstanced. While they remain single, they enjoy all the privileges of the other sex; they may rove where they please, and bestow their favours on whom they choose, and are entirely beyond control or restraint; but when married their freedom is at an end; they become mere slaves, and sink gradually into domestic drudges to those who have the power of life and death over them; and whether their conduct be criminal or exemplary, they are equally likely to receive a blow, in a moment of passion, of sufficient force to end life and slavery together! There are many exceptions to this frightful picture; and I saw several old couples, who had been united in youth, who had always lived in happiness together, and whose kind and friendly manner towards each other set an example well worthy of imitation in many English families.
CHAPTER LII.
A MAORI TANGI.
April 2nd.–This day, perceiving that an unusual number of canoes were passing up the river, all proceeding towards the village of Par-Finneigh, we hailed one; and, upon its coming alongside, we inquired what had occurred, for every appearance of bustle or commotion amongst this restless and war-like people is truly alarming. They informed us that the great chief A-Rowa, who died four months since, and the ceremony of whose “lying in state” I had been permitted by his eldest son to be a witness of, was this day to be exposed to the view of his friends; was to be cried over; and was finally to be deposited in the tomb of his ancestors. As this was one of their imposing spectacles which I had never yet seen, I was anxious to witness it. We soon got a boat ready, and a party of us joined the throng, and proceeded with them to the village. Upon our arrival thither, we found an immense concourse of people assembled; for here, as in most uncivilised or early states of society, the disposition and good qualities of the deceased are made known by the number of friends and followers who meet at his funeral. As these New Zealanders were all fully equipped in arms, they had more the appearance of a hostile meeting in an enemy’s camp, than of a group of mourners about to be occupied in the melancholy duty of depositing out of sight for ever the last remains of a beloved chief.
Mooetara, the son and successor of the deceased, came to meet us on the beach, and seemed much gratified by our attention, our appearance on this solemn occasion giving him importance in the eyes of all the natives then assembled. He gave orders for our being conducted with much ceremony to the place of mourning, where, amidst a number of uncouth pieces of carving (which, we were informed were all tombs reared in honour of the memory of several former chiefs, and all tabooed), was erected a small hut, covered in at the top with thatch, but open at the sides. In the centre of this hut the bones of the deceased chief were exposed to view. After having undergone the process of decomposition during four months’ exposure to heat, wind, and rain, they had been collected, cleaned, and decorated with a quantity of fresh white feathers, which rendered the appearance of the skull still more frightful.
The women here invariably perform the parts of chief mourners; a group of them, with the widow of the deceased at their head, kept up a most mournful cadence, and at every pause in their dismal song slashed their skins with a piece of shell, till their faces, necks, and arms were literally streaming down with blood. This mourning and cutting is completely a matter of business, and is sometimes carried on without their feeling any real sorrow or sympathy. Parties kept arriving, and when there was not room for them to thrust themselves round the hut, they sat down in groups, perfectly unconcerned, employing themselves in cleaning their firelocks, or playing off upon each other some practical joke; but the moment a vacant space was presented near the hut, they deliberately stripped themselves, put on a most sorrowful countenance, and, seating themselves as near to the ornamented bones as possible, they immediately began their howling and slashing; no one seemed to like the idea of being outdone by his neighbour; but when the time allotted to this ceremony had expired, all instantly jumped up, wiped themselves, put on their mats, and joined the busy throng. There was, indeed, one real mourner, who never moved from the bones, nor once lifted up her eyes from them; she neither howled nor cut herself, and yet she inspired me with pity and commiseration for her forlorn state. This woman had been the only wife of the late chief; and I was informed they had lived many years together, and had a large family; she looked as if she herself was on the very brink of the grave. The contemplation of the mouldering remains of her partner through life must have been, even to her savage mind, most lacerating.
After witnessing several parties perform their funeral ceremonies, and imbibing, in some degree, the melancholy tone of mind such a sight must necessarily create, we arose and joined Mooetara. Here I witnessed a scene that reminded me of an English country fair. An immense number of temporary huts had been erected for the accommodation of the chiefs and their families, where they might repose after their exertions, while their slaves cooked their provisions, of which an abundant quantity had been provided, consisting of piles of kumara and Indian corn, with heaps of fish, which were served out, to all who came for them, with a most liberal hand, and which, of course, added not a little to the pleasure of the day. After all had satisfied their hunger (and even the lowest slaves were permitted, on this occasion, to have as much as they wished for) they jumped up, flew to their muskets, and commenced their war dance with great noise and vigour. The violence of their exertions caused their recent wounds to bleed afresh, and added much to the horror of their hideous grimaces. They then divided into two parties, and had a sham battle. I must here do justice to the temperate habits of my savage friends. During my residence in New Zealand, I have known but very few who were addicted to drinking, and I scarcely ever saw one of them in a state of intoxication; and, on this occasion, where a profusion of what they esteem delicacies was provided gratuitously, they partook so moderately of the tempting fare as not to be prevented using the most violent exertions immediately after their meal. The entertainment being now over, the different parties gathered up what remained of the portions of food distributed to them, and without taking any leave of their entertainer, or returning any thanks for his bountiful providing, they all entered their canoes and paddled away.
CHAPTER LIII.
CHARACTER OF THE NEW ZEALANDERS.
An unfortunate prejudice has gone forth into the world against the natives of New Zealand, which I have always endeavoured to counteract from a sense of justice, and, from a careful review of those circumstances which have fallen immediately under my own observation; this prejudice has long retarded our knowledge of their true character, but error must gradually give way to truth; and as the circumstances which first brought the stigma upon their name come to light, and are investigated and properly explained, I feel confident the conduct of these islanders will be found superior to that of any other nation in the South Seas. If we take the whole catalogue of dreadful massacres they have been charged with, and (setting aside partiality for our own countrymen) allow them to be carefully examined, it will be found that we have invariably been the aggressors; and when we have given serious cause of offence, can we be so irrational as to express astonishment that a savage should seek revenge? The last massacre was that of “The Boyd’s” crew; every impartial person who reads the account of that melancholy transaction must acknowledge the unfortunate captain was most to blame. But that event took place nineteen years back; since which time they know us better, and respect us more; in proof of which, four years since, The Mercury brig was taken possession of by a crowd of natives, after they had endured a series of offences and every kind of ill-treatment; but the difference in their fate, compared with that of The Boyd’s ship’s company, was remarkable, and proved that the savage temper of the natives was much softened down and humanised, as they merely plundered the vessel, but made no attempt to murder or molest any of the crew, who, if they had possessed sufficient courage, would not have sacrificed their vessel; but, being terrified, they abandoned her, and she was finally wrecked. During my residence, I never heard of one of the men having been murdered; and I feel fully convinced no massacres will ever again be committed in any of the ports in New Zealand where European vessels have been accustomed to anchor.
I once saw, with indignation, a chief absolutely knocked overboard from a whaler’s deck by the mate. Twenty years ago so gross an insult would have cost the lives of every individual on board the vessel, but, at the time this occurred, it was only made the subject of complaint, and finally became a cause of just remonstrance with the commander of the whaler. The natives themselves (and I have heard the opinions of various tribes) have invariably told me that these things occurred from our want of knowledge of their laws and customs, which compelled them to seek revenge. “It was,” they said, “no act of treachery on our part; we did not invite you to our shores for the purpose of plunder and murder: but you came, and ill-used us; you broke into our tabooed grounds. And did not Atua give those bad white men into the hands of our fathers?”
I am confident that a body of Europeans may now reside in perfect security in any part of these islands. The late plundering of the missionaries at Whangaroa was a peculiar circumstance, which might have happened even in civilised Europe, had the seat of war approached so near their place of residence. If their houses and chapel had been on the plains of Waterloo during the June of 1815 they would not have experienced a better fate.
This recent tumult has brought a circumstance into notice highly interesting to all who may hereafter wish to settle here. It has hitherto been their custom, when an accident occurs, such as the sudden death of a chief, to make a general plunder of everything belonging to the family of the deceased, and all under their protection. A knowledge of this horrible custom has deterred many from settling in New Zealand; and even those who have resolved to run so great a risk have lived in a continued state of alarm, lest the death of their protecting chief should leave them at the mercy of a savage enemy.
The deaths of Hongi and Shulitea placed the missionaries and all the settlers on Kororarika Beach in considerable jeopardy: but it appeared as if reason had begun to dawn on the minds of these benighted savages, for this unjust and cruel custom was now for the first time discontinued. I was on the beach at the time when an immense party, well armed, came for the express purpose of satiating their revengeful feelings. I had taken the precaution of removing what I possessed on board a whaler then lying in the harbour. The chiefs first sat down to discuss the matter over amongst themselves, and their deliberations ended in their being satisfied with destroying the village of Matowe, the one adjoining ours, and which had been the residence of Pomare’s son, whose death was the cause of all the late turbulent events.
The great and leading defect in this country, and the principal cause of their frequent wars and disturbances, which harass and depopulate the tribes, and puts a stop to all improvement, is the want of some regular system of government. There are only two classes of people–chiefs and slaves; and, as consanguinity constitutes a high claim, the eldest son of a large family, who can bring the greatest number of warriors of his own name into the field, is considered the chief of that district or tribe; and as he, by reason of his followers, can take possession of the greatest number of prisoners or slaves, he becomes the ruling man. Every other man of his tribe considers himself on an equality with him in everything, except that he shows him obedience, and follows him to battle.
Each is independent in his own family, and holds uncontrolled power of life and death over every individual it contains. They seem not to exercise any coercion over the younger branches of a family, who are allowed unbounded liberty till the girls have sweethearts and the boys are strong enough to go to war. They are kind and hospitable to strangers, and are excessively fond of their children. On a journey, it is more usual to see the father carrying his infant than the mother; and all the little offices of a nurse are performed by him with the tenderest care and good humour. In many instances (wherein they differ from most savage tribes) I have seen the wife treated as an equal and companion. In fact, when not engaged in war, the New Zealander is quite a domestic, cheerful, harmless character; but once rouse his anger, or turn him into ridicule, and his disposition is instantly changed. A being, whose passions have never been curbed from infancy, and whose only notion of what he conceives to be his right is to retaliate for an offence with blood, must naturally form a cruel and vindictive character. Such these islanders seemed to us on our first visiting them. The sight of beings so extraordinary (for thus we Europeans must have appeared to them) excited in their savage minds the greatest wonder; and they thought we were sent as a scourge and an enemy; and though Cook, one of their earliest visitors, adopted every method his ingenuity could devise to conciliate them, yet, as they never could thoroughly understand his intentions, they were always on the alert to attack him. Hence arose the horror and disgust expressed formerly at the mere mention of the name of “a New Zealander.”
I have often tried, in vain, to account for there being such a decided dissimilarity between the natives of New Holland and New Zealand. So trifling is the difference in their situation on the globe, and so _similar their climates_–both having remained so long unknown to the great continents, and so devoid of intercourse with the rest of the world–that one would be led to imagine a great resemblance must be the result. But the natives of the former seem of the lowest grade–the last link in the great chain of existence which unites man with the monkey. Their limbs are long, thin, and flat, with large bony knees and elbows, a projecting forehead, and pot-belly. The mind, too, seems adapted to this mean configuration; they have neither energy, enterprise, nor industry; and their curiosity can scarcely be excited. A few exceptions may be met with; but these are their general characteristics. While the natives of the latter island are “cast in beauty’s perfect mould;” the children are so fine and powerfully made, that each might serve as a model for a statue of “the Infant Hercules;” nothing can exceed the graceful and athletic forms of the men, or the rounded limbs of their young women. These possess eyes beautiful and eloquent, and a profusion of long, silky, curling hair; while the intellects of both sexes seem of a superior order; all appear eager for improvement, full of energy, and indefatigably industrious, and possessing amongst themselves several arts which are totally unknown to their neighbours.
CHAPTER LIV.
THE SETTLEMENT AND TRADE OF HOKIANGA.
On April the 14th, our brig being stored with planks, flax, and potatoes, and ready for sea, I went on board of her. We had fine weather till we dropped down to the entrance of the river, where we intended taking in our stock of water for the voyage, when the scene suddenly changed, and a severe gale came on, right out to sea, which we could not avail ourselves of; neither could we get the water off, as our rafts of casks got adrift in the attempt to get them on board. To add to our disasters, one of our cables parted, and we had to ride out the gale (of two days’ continuance) with one only, the sea rolling heavily right open before us, and we in momentary expectation of the remaining cable’s going; we had not a single day’s allowance of water on board, and at one period all hands (except the carpenter and passengers) were out of the brig, on shore, filling the casks. Fortunately for us, the cable proved a tough one; had it parted, we should have been in a most perilous situation.
April 20th.–For the last week we were stationary at the river’s mouth, waiting for a fair wind to carry us over the bar; and during that time there was no appearance of any change; we also heard that vessels had been detained here for six weeks before they could accomplish it. We were visited daily by parties of natives, who seemed to rejoice at our being delayed, as it gave them more of our company than they had calculated upon. They were more delighted with our society than we were with theirs; in a small vessel they are a serious nuisance, on account of the swarms of vermin they bring with them, and which they communicate liberally to all. Myself and all the passengers on board had our leisure time fully occupied in dislodging these “little familiars” from their strongholds in different parts of our apparel.
During the time we were lying here, I saw and conversed with several individuals who had attended the “Great Meeting,” and their accounts gave rise to various opinions respecting the policy of supplying the natives with firearms. As I had always been an advocate for the measure, I was gratified by hearing that it was thought to be in consequence of each party’s being possessed of a nearly equal quantity of muskets, that a general and exterminating war was avoided. Some may suppose that similar tranquility would have been preserved, had they been equally well supplied with their native weapons of war; but that would not have been the case. When they found that each party could furnish forth the same number of European muskets, they paused, well knowing that it was contrary to the wish of all the white settlers that they should proceed to hostilities. Indeed, Europeans intrepidly mingled amongst them, urging them to a reconciliation, and threatening that, if they failed in their endeavours, the supplies of arms and ammunition should be discontinued. This threat had its desired effect on the minds of the natives; no blood was spilt, and each chief returned quietly to his own home.
On the night we heard of the death of George and his wife, “Revenge and war” was the universal cry. His party would not believe that it could be an accident, nor would they hear of any apology being received. At this time they imagined the tribes of Hokianga were possessed of but very few firearms; and, as the skirmish took place in that district, it was determined that an exterminating war should be carried into the heart of it. However, before all the preparations could be made to carry their intentions into effect, they received certain information that the people of Hokianga were even better supplied with muskets than those of the Bay of Islands. This intelligence occasioned an assemblage of the different tribes to be proposed, and when it took place the friends of George saw their opponents so well prepared for the “tug of war” that they deemed it judicious to come forward and to shake hands and to acknowledge that the death of Shulitea proceeded either from accident or mistake. A curious circumstance took place in the midst of their debate. An old chief, who wished for a fight, and did not approve of the introduction of firearms, but was an advocate for the old method of New Zealand warfare, proposed that each party should send away _all_ their muskets and ammunition, and engage manfully with their own native weapons, and then it could be easily proved which were the “best men;” but this mode of settling the dispute, not being agreeable to the majority, was instantly negatived, and treated with disdain.
The colony of Scotch carpenters, who had formed a settlement at the head of the river, and of whom I made “honourable mention” on my first journey, finding themselves so close to what they feared might become the seat of war, and having no means whatever of defending themselves, made an arrangement with Mooetara, the chief of Parkunugh (which is situated at the entrance of the same river), and placed themselves under his protection. They accordingly moved down here, which gave great satisfaction to that chief. Neither could their former protector, Patuone, feel offended at their removal, from the peculiar nature of the circumstances they were placed in. These hardy North Britons were delighted to find a reasonable excuse for moving, their former establishment being situated too far from the sea for them to reap any advantage from ships coming into port. Nothing can be more gratifying than to behold the great anxiety of the natives to induce Englishmen to settle amongst them; it ensures their safety; and no one act of treachery is on record of their having practised towards those whom they had invited to reside with them.
Mooetara is a man of great property and high rank, and is considered a very proud chief by the natives; yet he is to be seen every day working as hard as any slave in assisting in the erection of houses for the accommodation of his new settlers. He has actually removed from his old village of Parkunugh (a strong and beautiful place), and is erecting huts for his tribe near the spot chosen by his new friends; so that, in a very short time, a barren point of land, hitherto without a vestige of a human habitation, will become a thriving and populous village, for it is incredible how quickly the orders of these chiefs are carried into effect. I was frequently a witness to the short space of time they took to erect their houses; and, though small, they are tight, weather-proof, and warm: their storehouses are put together in the most substantial and workmanlike manner.
It is very difficult to make the New Zealanders explain the nature of their religious belief. One superstition seems general with all the tribes respecting the formation of the world, or, rather, of their own island, for that is the place of the first importance in their estimation. They say a man, or a god, or some great spirit, was fishing in his war-canoe, and pulled up a large fish, which instantly turned into an island; and a lizard came upon that, and brought up a man out of the water by his long hair; and he was the father of all the New Zealanders. Almost all their grotesque carvings are illustrations of this idea in some way or other. The favourite theme on which (I observed) the missionaries discoursed to them were “the torments of hell.” This has become a subject of ridicule to most of the natives; they do not deny that there may be such a place, but they add, it is not for them, for if Atua had intended it so he would have sent them word about it long before he sent the white men into their country; and they conclude by stating that they know perfectly well the situation of the island where they are to go to after this life.
CHAPTER LV.
MASSACRE OF A SCHOONER’S CREW.
While remaining here wind-bound, in imaginary security, and amusing ourselves with noticing the curious customs and peculiarities of these islanders, a dreadful tragedy was taking place only a few miles’ distance from us, and to which I before alluded, when I mentioned crossing the bar on our first arrival from Port Jackson. The Enterprise schooner, a very fine vessel, which was built at the settlement on this river, had been sent to Sydney, and while we were lying there we were in hourly expectation of her return. She did return. The unfavourable weather which detained us so long proved fatal to her, and she was wrecked a few miles to the northward of the river’s mouth, and every soul on board perished.
The moment this catastrophe was known every European hastened to the spot, and, with feelings of horror, perceived but too plainly, from the appearance of the wreck and the boat, and by finding also the clothes of the crew, that they had reached the shore in safety, and had afterwards all been murdered; but how, or by whom, it was impossible to discover. The most probable conclusion was that the tribes situated around the European dockyard at Hokianga, having meditated for some time past a great war-like expedition, waited the return of this schooner from Sydney to possess themselves of an additional supply of arms and ammunition, which might enable them to take the field with a certainty of conquest. They had regularly purchased the cargo of this vessel by their labour and their merchandise, and the schooner was merely employed to convey it thither from Sydney, for the use of the natives; unhappily for the poor creatures on board, in running for the mouth of the river, she fell to leeward, and got stranded on the beach, in the very territory of that tribe against whom these preparations were made–the tribe intended to be invaded. Though no formal declaration of war had taken place, the tribes well knew the preparations that were making against them, and the nature of the cargo contained in The Enterprise; falling into the hands of such fierce and vindictive savages, the fate of the crew may be imagined–all our poor fellows were sacrificed to gratify their feelings of revenge.
Mooetara (the friendly chief of Hokianga) no sooner heard of the fate of the vessel and her crew than he hastened with his party to the spot; it was owing to the investigation which then took place that the conclusion was arrived at that all had been murdered. What remained for Mooetara to do (according to their savage notion of what was right) was to take ample revenge on all the hostile tribes that might fall in his way, whether our poor countrymen met their deaths through accident or treachery. Mooetara instantly commenced the work of destruction; and, having made his vengeance complete, he returned laden with spoil. The promptness with which he acted on this melancholy occasion greatly increased the feelings of security possessed by those Englishmen settled on the banks of the river, as it proved to them that he was both able and willing to protect them, and though the dead could not be restored, yet he had inflicted an awful punishment on their murderers.
CHAPTER LVI.
FAREWELL TO NEW ZEALAND.
On the 21st a fair wind and smooth sea favoured our departure. Early in the morning the natives who were on board assured us everything would facilitate our passing over the bar with safety, and they prepared to leave the ship. When the moment of separation came, it caused a great deal of emotion on both sides. I must confess I felt much affected when I came to rub noses, shake hands, and say “Farewell” to these kind-hearted people. I saw them go over the ship’s side, and reflected that I should never behold them more. There is always something repugnant to our feelings in the idea of separating from any being for ever; and as, in this instance, I felt assured that this was our last time of meeting, it cast a gloom over the pleasure the fair wind and smooth sea would otherwise have afforded me. As we fell down towards the river’s mouth, and, indeed, as long as their canoes were to be seen, they kept waving their hands towards us.
Thus terminated my visit to the islands of New Zealand. I had arrived with feelings of fear and disgust, and was merely induced to take up a temporary residence amongst the natives, in hopes of finding something new for my pencil in their peculiar and picturesque style of life. I left them with opinions, in many respects, very favourable towards them. It is true, they are cunning and over-reaching in trade, and filthy in their persons. In regard to the former, we Europeans, I fear, set them a bad example; of the latter, they will gradually amend. Our short visit to Kororarika greatly improved them in that particular. All took great pains to come as clean as possible when they attended our “evening tea-parties.” In my opinion, their sprightly, free, and independent deportment, together with their kindness and attention to strangers, compensates for many defects.
On looking round upon their country, an Englishman cannot fail to feel gratified when he beholds the good already resulting to these poor savages from their intercourse with his countrymen; and they themselves are fully sensible of, and truly grateful for, every mark of kindness manifested towards them. They have stores full of the finest Indian corn, which they consider a great luxury, a food which requires little trouble in preparing, keeps well, and is very nutritious. It is but a few years since this useful grain was introduced amongst them; and I sincerely hope this introduction may be followed up, not only by our sending out to them seeds of vegetables and fruits, but by our forwarding to them every variety of quadruped which can be used for food. Abundance of the finest water-melons are daily brought alongside vessels entering their ports; these, in point of flavour, are superior to any I ever met with. I have no doubt every variety of European produce essential to the support of life would thrive equally well; and as food became abundant, and luxuries were introduced, their disgusting feasts on human flesh would soon be discontinued altogether.
We were soon at sea, and speedily felt considerable apprehensions as to the safe termination of our voyage. Our vessel (the brig Governor Macquarie) we well knew was a leaky one, though her leaks did not distress us on the outward voyage, she being then only in ballast trim; but now that she was loaded to the water’s edge, and the winter coming on, we became greatly alarmed for her. Another disagreeable circumstance was having no bread or flour on board. To obviate the first evil, and to save the sailors a great deal of hard labour, our Captain offered to give a passage to Sydney to several natives, who accepted his offer, they being always anxious to see the colony; we likewise had on board the great Chief from the Thames, who had caused us so much trouble at Kororarika. These men, being fine, strong, active young fellows, were indefatigable in their exertions at the pumps; and though we had to contend with much heavy weather, and contrary winds, they kept our vessel pretty dry. The want of bread was not so easily remedied; though our Captain treated it lightly, saying he was sure of getting a supply by making a requisition to the missionaries. He accordingly waited upon them, and acquainted them with our distressed condition; they had plenty (for only a few weeks previously they had received a large supply), and as we knew their agent at Sydney, Mr. Campbell, we had no doubt of procuring a sufficiency from them to carry us home; but in this we were disappointed. Captain Kent did not ask them for a supply as a gift, but solicited merely the _loan_ of a cask or two till we arrived at Sydney, when he guaranteed that the owners of the brig should return the same quantity into the missionary storehouse there. The little monosyllable _No_ was again put in requisition, with this qualification–“that they did not like the Botany Bay skippers.” Through their “dislike,” the passengers and seamen of the brig might have gone unprovided to sea, had not a “worldly-minded” whaler (fortunately for us) at that critical moment come into port, who, the instant he heard of the ill-success of our entreaty, vented his indignation in pretty coarse language, and said, “if it detained his vessel a week, he would supply us;” and he kept his word; he gave us a bountiful supply, which rendered us comfortable during the whole way home.
It was most interesting to observe our savages when we got well out to sea. They soon appeared to become accustomed to their novel situation, and seemed to feel quite at home and at their ease “on board ship.” Their exertions at the pumps were indefatigable. I felt convinced they thought that during all voyages the same labour was gone through to keep the vessel afloat; and as it only required strength and exertion, they cheerfully took that department entirely to themselves, especially as they soon perceived how useless they were when they attempted to perform any other duty on board of the brig, as their knowledge of voyaging extended no further than the distance they go in their own canoes, which, though very beautiful, are sad leaky things at sea; and as, during the time they are out, the greater part of the crew are baling the water out of them, they thought the leaky state of our vessel was no uncommon occurrence. But however cheerfully they worked during the day, nothing could induce them to “turn out” at night; they always stowed themselves away, but in what part of the vessel I never could conjecture. They have a dread of some unknown evil spirit, which they imagine has power over them at night; and this supposition makes them terrible cowards in the dark.
The second day after we were at sea, I saw a group of savages lying round the binnacle, all intently occupied in observing the phenomenon of the magnetic attraction; they seemed at once to comprehend the purpose to which it was applied, and I listened with eager curiosity to their remarks upon it.
“This,” said they, “is the white man’s God, who directs them safely to different countries, and then can guide them home again.” Out of compliment to us, and respect for its wonderful powers, they seemed much inclined to worship this silent little monitor.
During our voyage to Port Jackson we experienced a succession of southerly gales, which Captain Kent informed me were very prevalent at this season of the year. Notwithstanding all our exertions to prevent it, we were carried considerably to leeward of the port. We made Lord Howe’s Islands, whose high and bold features rise, as it were, out of the ocean; as we passed close to them, we perceived they were well wooded and watered; and one of the men, who had been on shore there, informed me that there was a tolerably good harbour for small craft. A few miles to the southward of these islands is Ball’s Pyramid, a most singular and sublime-looking rock, rising perpendicularly out of the sea to a height of a thousand feet; the base of it is enveloped in perpetual surf, dashing and climbing up its craggy sides. Its appearance, as we saw it, relieved by the setting sun, and the coming on of a stormy night, was awful in the extreme!
Nothing could exceed the delight manifested by our New Zealanders as we sailed up Port Jackson harbour; but, above all, the windmills most astonished them. After dancing and screaming with joy at beholding them, they came running and asking me “if they were not gods.” I found they were inclined to attach that sacred appellation to most things they could not understand; they did so when they first became possessed of their muskets, and actually worshipped them, until they discovered how soon they got out of repair, and then, notwithstanding all the prayers they could bestow upon them, they would not mend again of their own accord.
Our Chief from the Thames, who had a great idea of his own dignity, commenced adorning his person, as he felt convinced the Governor would instantly grant him an audience when he came on shore. All our lamps were emptied to add a more beautiful gloss to his hair and complexion; his whole stock of feathers and bones were arranged to the greatest advantage. He at length became quite enraged when he found that he was allowed to sit two days on our deck, amongst all manner of dirty porters and sailors, without either being visited or sent for; and he was loud in his reproaches to us for having deceived him. We certainly were to blame in having induced him to believe we had any influence with the Governor, for however politic we (who had lived in New Zealand) might think it, to pay some attentions to these simple savages, his Excellency, unfortunately, thought otherwise; and though the Chief, attended by his followers, used to sit in the verandah at Government House from morning till night, the Governor never once deigned to speak to them, and they were, in consequence, constantly coming to me with complaints. At length they told me that unless they obtained an audience from our Chief they should consider it so great an insult that they would revenge it upon all the Europeans they could get into their power; and I, well knowing that several families were settled in that part of the country wherein this man was Chief, thought it my duty to let the Governor know, that, however he might dislike their manners and appearance, it might lead to some serious calamity, if he continued to refuse to give them an audience.
I accordingly waited upon the Brigade Major, and explained to him how unwise it was to treat these men with such undisguised contempt. The result was, the Governor saw the affair in the same point of view as myself, and condescended to meet them and converse with them for about five minutes; and with that they were satisfied. Other heads of departments (civil and military) behaved differently, and evidently felt a pleasure in having them with them. The Commander of the troops suffered them to sit at the same table with himself and officers, and had the war-dance performed in the mess-room, which I thought would have brought the house down upon our heads. He likewise permitted them to fall into the ranks with the soldiers, which pleased them beyond everything, inasmuch as they considered it a higher honour in being permitted to stand by our warriors on the martial parade than to take food with our Chiefs at their own table!
The Attorney-General of the colony took a particular interest in these savages, and gave a large party, to which they were invited. Several of the visitors on this occasion came out of curiosity to see how these cannibals would conduct themselves, expecting, no doubt, to witness a display of disgusting gluttony; but in that they were disappointed, for never did any set of men behave with greater decorum than they did.
On being apprised of this invitation, they were all most anxious to obtain European dresses, and when we refused to lend them ours, they requested of our servants the loan of a suit. This being denied them also, with the little money they had they attempted to bargain for whole suits of _convict_ dresses, in order to make their _debut_ in style at the table of the Attorney-General! When I discovered this to be the case, I explained to them the impropriety of their conduct, and roused their pride by pointing out to them the absurdity of men of their high rank in their own country wishing to appear in the cast-off dress of degraded slaves, and how much more suitable it was to the dignity of their character to appear in their own national costume. Accordingly, on the appointed day, they met the company superbly attired in mats and feathers; they made a splendid show at the dinner-table, and afforded great amusement to the evening visitors. At an early hour they got very sleepy, but were too polite to hint how much they felt oppressed by drowsiness. I saw their eyes grow heavy, and perceived that it was difficult for them to sit upright on their chairs. I mentioned these symptoms to their kind host, who immediately consented to their retiring. They accordingly withdrew into a corner of one of the adjoining rooms, where, lying down huddled together, and covering themselves with their mats, they were soon asleep, and gave no interruption to anyone during the remainder of the evening.
The greatest treat it was in our power to bestow on them was to take them to a review of the troops then stationed at Sydney. The splendour of their regimentals, the regularity of their movements, and the precision of their firing, made them nearly mad with delight; they ran about the plain literally wild with joy, occasionally stopping to gaze with wonder on men performing what they deemed such prodigies. In their ecstasies they occasionally vociferated their own furious war-whoop. Their extravagant expressions of delight, and their many extraordinary gestures, caused great amusement both to the military and to the spectators assembled on the ground; and when the review was over my savage friends were quite exhausted with fatigue and excitement.
After two months’ residence at Sydney we had an opportunity of procuring a passage for them to their own country; and they departed, expressing the greatest gratitude for our attentions towards them. They were loaded with presents of all descriptions; for, finding they generally got what they begged for, while here, they importuned everyone they met, and they used daily to return home burthened with the most miscellaneous and extraordinary jumble of commodities it was possible to conceive; for, as everything they then beheld was new to them, and might be (they thought) of some service to them in their own country, each trifle was of great value in their estimation, and was carefully stowed away. They always expressed their concern that so few muskets were given to them, and that they were presented with ammunition in such small quantities. War-like stores were their grand desideratum; and though they would accept of any thing you chose to give them, yet they always had hopes they should finally receive their favourite presents of a stocking of powder, a piece of lead, or a musket.
THE END.
APPENDIX I.
MASSACRE OF CAPT. FURNEAUX’S BOAT’S CREW.
CANNIBALISM OF THE MAORIS.
[_The following is the account given by Captain Furneaux of the massacre of his boat’s crew, referred to in Earle’s narrative on page 24._]
* * * * *
The Resolution, under command of Captain Cook, and the Adventure, commanded by Captain Furneaux, sailed from Plymouth on the 13th April, 1772, to continue the exploration of New Zealand begun during Captain Cook’s first voyage. The vessels became finally separated in a gale off Cape Palliser in October, 1773, and the two navigators did not meet again until after Cook’s return to England in July, 1775.
Captain Furneaux reported that while his ship was refitting in Queen Charlotte Sound the astronomer’s tent was robbed by a party of natives. One who was seen escaping was fired upon and wounded, when he and his confederates made for the woods, leaving their canoe with most of the stolen goods on the shore. “This petty larceny,” Captain Furneaux remarks, “probably laid the foundation of that dreadful catastrophe which soon after happened,” and which he thus describes:
“On Friday, the 17th, we sent out our large cutter, manned with seven seamen, under the command of Mr. John Rowe, the first mate, accompanied by Mr. Woodhouse, midshipman, and James Tobias Swilley, the carpenter’s servant. They were to proceed up the Sound to Grass Cove to gather greens and celery for the ship’s company, with orders to return that evening; for the tents had been struck at two in the afternoon, and the ship made ready for sailing the next day. Night coming on, and no cutter appearing, the captain and others began to express great uneasiness. They sat up all night in expectation of their arrival, but to no purpose. At daybreak, therefore, the captain ordered the launch to be hoisted out. She was double manned, and under the command of our second lieutenant, Mr. Burney, accompanied by Mr. Freeman, master, the corporal of marines, with five private men, all well armed, and having plenty of ammunition and three days’ provision. They were ordered first to look into East Bay, then to proceed to Grass Cove, and if nothing was to be seen or heard of the cutter there, they were to go farther up the cove, and return by the west shore. Mr. Rowe having left the ship an hour before the time proposed for his departure, we thought his curiosity might have carried him into East Bay, none of our people having ever been there, or that some accident might have happened to the boat, for not the least suspicion was entertained of the natives. Mr. Burney returned about eleven o’clock the same night, and gave us a pointed description of a most horrible scene, described in the following relation:–
“‘On Saturday, the 18th, we left the ship about nine o’clock in the morning. We soon got round Long Island and Long Point. We continued sailing and rowing for East Bay, keeping close in shore, and examining with our glasses every cove on the larboard side, till near two o’clock in the afternoon, at which time we stopped at a beach on our left going up East Bay, to dress our dinner.
“‘About five o’clock in the afternoon, and within an hour after we had left this place, we opened a small bay adjoining to Grass Cove, and here we saw a large double canoe just hauled upon the beach, with two men and a dog. The two men, on seeing us approach, instantly fled, which made us suspect it was here we should have some tidings of the cutter. On landing and examining the canoe, the first thing we saw therein was one of our cutter’s rowlock ports and some shoes, one of which among the latter was known to belong to Mr. Woodhouse. A piece of flesh was found by one of our people, which at first was thought to be some of the salt meat belonging to the cutter’s men, but, upon examination, we supposed to be dog’s flesh. A most horrid and undeniable proof soon cleared up our doubts, and convinced us we were among no other than cannibals; for, advancing further on the beach, we saw about twenty baskets tied up, and a dog eating a piece of broiled flesh, which, upon examination, we suspected to be human. We cut open the baskets, some of which were full of roasted flesh, and others of fern root, which serves them for bread. Searching others, we found more shoes and a hand, which was immediately known to have belonged to Thos. Hill, one of our forecastle men, it having been tattooed with the initials of his name. We now proceeded a little way in the woods, but saw nothing else. Our next design was to launch the canoe, intending to destroy her; but seeing a great smoke ascending over the nearest hill, we made all possible haste to be with them before sunset.
“‘At half after six we opened Grass Cove, where we saw one single and three double canoes, and a great many natives assembled on the beach, who retreated to a small hill, within a ship’s length of the water side, where they stood talking to us. On the top of the high land, beyond the woods, was a large fire, from whence, all the way down the hill, the place was thronged like a fair. When we entered the cove, a musketoon was fired at one of the canoes, as we imagined they might be full of men lying down, for they were all afloat, but no one was seen in them. Being doubtful whether their retreat proceeded from fear or a desire to decoy us into an ambuscade, we were determined not to be surprised, and therefore, running close in shore, we dropped the grappling near enough to reach them with our guns, but at too great a distance to be under any apprehensions from their treachery. The savages on the little hill kept their ground, hallooing, and making signs for us to land. At these we now took aim, resolving to kill as many of them as our bullets would reach, yet it was some time before we could dislodge them. The first volley did not seem to affect them much, but on the second they began to scramble away as fast as they could, some howling and others limping. We continued to fire as long as we could see the least glimpse of any of them through the bushes. Among these were two very robust men, who maintained their ground without moving an inch till they found themselves forsaken by all their companions, and then, disdaining to run, they marched off with great composure and deliberation. One of them, however, got a fall, and either lay there or crawled away on his hands and feet; but the other escaped without any apparent hurt. Mr. Burney now improved their panic, and, supported by the marines, leaped on shore and pursued the fugitives. We had not advanced far from the water-side, on the beach, before we met with two bunches of celery, which had been gathered by the cutter’s crew. A broken oar was stuck upright in the ground, to which the natives had tied their canoes, whereby we were convinced this was the spot where the attack had been made. We now searched all along at the back of the beach, to see if the cutter was there, but instead of her, the most horrible scene was presented to our view; for there lay the hearts, heads, and lungs of several of our people, with hands and limbs in a mangled condition, some broiled and some raw; but no other parts of their bodies, which made us suspect that the cannibals had feasted upon and devoured the rest. At a little distance we saw the dogs gnawing their entrails. We observed a large body of the natives collected together on a hill about two miles off, but as night drew on apace, we could not advance to such a distance; neither did we think it safe to attack them, or even to quit the shore to take an account of the number killed, our troop being a very small one, and the savages were both numerous, fierce, and much irritated. While we remained almost stupefied on the spot, Mr. Fannen said that he heard the cannibals assembling in the woods, on which we returned to our boat, and having hauled alongside the canoes, we demolished three of them. During this transaction the fire on the top of the hill disappeared, and we could hear the savages in the woods at high words, quarrelling, perhaps, on account of their different opinions, whether they should attack us and try to save their canoes. They were armed with long lances, and weapons not unlike a sergeant’s halbert in shape, made of hard wood, and mounted with bone instead of iron. We suspected that the dead bodies of our people had been divided among those different parties of cannibals who had been concerned in the massacre, and it was not improbable that the group we saw at a distance by the fire were feasting upon some of them, as those on shore had been where the remains were found, before they had been disturbed by our unexpected visit. Be that as it may, we could discover no traces of more than four of our friends’ bodies, nor could we find the place where the cutter was concealed. It now grew dark, on which account we collected carefully the remains of our mangled friends, and, putting off, made the best of our way from this polluted place. When we opened the upper part of the Sound, we saw a very large fire about three or four miles higher up, which formed a complete oval, reaching from the top of a hill down almost to the water-side, the middle space being enclosed all round by the fire, like a hedge. Mr. Burney and Mr. Fannen having consulted together, they were both of opinion that we could, by an attempt, reap no other advantage than the poor satisfaction of killing some more of the savages. Upon leaving Grass Cove we had fired a volley towards where we heard the Indians talking, but by going in and out of the boat our pieces had got wet, and four of them missed fire. What rendered our situation more critical, it began to rain, and our ammunition was more than half expended. We, for these reasons, without spending time where nothing could be hoped for but revenge, proceeded for the ship, and arrived safe aboard before midnight.'”
It is a little remarkable that Captain Furneaux had been several times up Grass Cove with Captain Cook, where they saw no inhabitants, and no other signs of any but a few deserted villages, which appeared as if they had not been occupied for many years, and yet, in Mr. Burney’s opinion, when he entered the same cove, there could not be less than fifteen hundred or two thousand people.
On Thursday, the 23rd of December, the Adventure departed from, and made sail out of, the Sound. She stood to the eastward, to clear the straits, which was happily effected the same evening; but the ship was baffled for two or three days with light winds before she could clear the coast. In this interval of time the chests and effects of the ten men who had been murdered were sold before the mast, according to an old sea custom.
When Captain Cook was in the Sound on his third voyage, he learned that the massacre arose over an unpremeditated quarrel. Kahura, who had been active in the tragedy, told Cook that a Maori having brought a stone hatchet to barter, the man to whom it was offered took it, and would neither return it nor give anything for it, and on which the owner snatched some bread from the party of Europeans, who were at dinner on the beach, as an equivalent, and then the quarrel began. Kahura himself had a narrow escape of being shot, while another was shot beside him; and the Europeans, outnumbered, were surrounded and killed. It was also stated by the natives that not one of the shots fired by the party of Captain Furneaux led by Mr. Burney to search for the missing people had taken effect so as to kill or even to hurt a single person.
APPENDIX II.
THE DEATH OF WHAREUMU (KING GEORGE).
The death of this Bay of Islands chief, who acted as protector to Mr. Earle during his residence at Kororareka, is thus described by Messrs. Hobbs and Stack, Wesleyan missionaries at Hokianga, in a letter dated from Mangungu, Hokianga, on the 22nd March, 1828:–
“On the same day that Hongi died at Whangaroa a son of the late Pomare’s, named Tiki, was killed at Waima by a chief of the tribe called Mahurihuri. Waima is in Hokianga, and only a few miles distance from us. The cause of the quarrel was this: Tiki had had some of his pigs stolen by the natives of Waima, and he was seeking utu by robbing their sweet potato plantations, for which he was shot.
“As soon as the report of the young man’s death reached the Bay of Islands, 400 natives collected together, forming two divisions, under two separate chiefs, Whareumu, or, as he is called by the Europeans, King George, and Toi, and came to Hokianga. Toi and his party arrived first at Waima, where he found Patuone and all the natives and other chiefs of our district. After robbing the natives of Waima of their potatoes, etc., peace was made, and no further evil consequences seemed likely to arise. The next day, the 14th, Whareumu and his party arrived. He was highly displeased with Toi for having made peace on such easy terms. He prevailed upon him, therefore, to break his league. Whareumu was also very insolent to Muriwai, intimated that he was a coward, and poured contempt upon the idea of the Hokianga natives standing in their own defence. On the morning of the 15th a quarrel ensued between the 400 Bay of Islanders and the natives of Waima, our natives also having now become their allies. This fray did not at the outset seem likely to be attended with fatal results, but, as Solomon justly observes, the beginning of strife is like the letting out of water; so it was in this instance. Shots were fired on both sides till several were killed and wounded. At length Muriwai, who was a pacificator, was wounded and fell. Supposing he was killed, our natives (for the natives of Waima fled as soon as matters assumed a serious aspect) no longer regarded matters lightly, but turned round in great rage, for they also were in the act of retreating, and singled out Whareumu as a satisfaction for Muriwai. Whareumu received two