Here we left the brig to unload her cargo; my friend Shand and myself having determined to proceed overland to the Bay of Islands. An intelligent chief, hearing of our intention, offered to accompany us himself, and lent us two of his kookies to carry our baggage. We accepted the chieftain's offer, and several other natives joined the party to bear us company.
November 7.—We all embarked in a canoe, in order to reach the head of the river before we began our pedestrian tour; and, after paddling about eight or nine miles further up, where the river became exceedingly narrow, we came to another English settlement. This consisted of a party of men who had come out in the Rosanna, the vessel employed by the New Zealand Company. When all ideas of settling were totally abandoned by the officers sent out for that purpose, these men chose rather to remain by themselves than to return home; and we found them busily employed in cutting timber, sawing planks, and making oars for the Sydney market. How far they may prove successful, time only can develop; but as these enterprising men had only their own industry to assist them, it could not be expected that their establishment could bear a comparison with the one at Te Horeke, which is supported by several of the most wealthy merchants of New South Wales.
As the river became narrower, the habitations of the natives were more numerous. The chief of this district (whose name is Patuone) has a splendid village very near the carpenters' establishment we have just described. He had taken these industrious men under his especial protection, and seemed very proud of having a settlement of that kind in his territories, as it gave him power and consequence among all the neighbouring chiefs, from the trade he carried on by means of their exertions.
Patuone had likewise induced the Wesleyan missionaries to settle upon his land, about a mile below; so that the head of this river assumed quite the appearance of a civilised colony.
Our party now disembarked. We landed in a dense forest, which reached to the water's edge; and our guides and slaves began to divide the loads each was to carry on his back. Several joined us from the two English stations on the river, and we then amounted to a very large party; all in high spirits, and anxious to proceed on our journey. When our natives had distributed the luggage, they loaded themselves, which they did with both skill and quickness; for a New Zealander is never at a loss for cords or ropes. Their plan is to gather a few handfuls of flax, which they soon twist into a very good substitute: with this material they formed slings, with which they dexterously fastened our moveables on their backs, and set off at a good trot, calling out to us to follow them.
We travelled through a wood so thick that the light of heaven could not penetrate the trees that composed it. They were so large and so close together that in many places we had some difficulty to squeeze ourselves through them. To add to our perplexities, innumerable streams intersected this forest, which always brought us Europeans to a complete standstill. The only bridges which the natives ever think of making are formed by cutting down a tree, and letting it fall across; and over these our bare-legged attendants, loaded as they were, scrambled with all the agility of cats or monkeys; but it was not so with us: for several times they seated one of us on the top of their load, and carried him over. The chief, who accompanied us, made it his particular business to see me safe through every difficulty, and many times he carried me himself over such places as I dared scarcely venture to look down upon.
In the midst of this wood we met the chief of this district, Patuone, who, together with all his family, were employed in planting a small, cleared patch of land. He appeared highly delighted at beholding strangers; and all his wives came from their occupations to welcome us. He told us that, a very few miles farther on, we should come to a village belonging to him, where his eldest son was residing, and that we must there pass the night.
Patuone, a Notable Hokianga Chief.
Patuone, a Notable Hokianga Chief.
We thanked him for the invitation, rubbed noses with him (their token of friendship), and parted.
Soon after parting with Patuone, we fell in with a most beautiful bull, cow, and calf. I was amazed at seeing such fine animals in this country; but my companions soon cleared up the mystery by informing me that they were gifts from the missionaries, who had orders from Home to distribute these useful animals amongst such chiefs as they thought would take care of them: a wise and beneficial measure. These animals were tabooed, consequently they could ramble wherever they found food most to their liking. About dusk we arrived at the village Patuone had described to us. We were most happy to see it, as we were heartily tired, and dripping wet from a recent and heavy shower.
The village was situated on the side of a small, picturesque stream, one of the branches of the Hokianga, but continued droughts had at this time reduced it to a trifling brook. From its lofty banks, and the large trees lying athwart it, we conjectured that during heavy rains it must be a mighty flood. A long straggling collection of huts composed the village: a great deal of land in its vicinity was cleared and planted, which doubtless was the ostensible object of Patuone's people being here. As the village lay upon the opposite shore from that on which we arrived, we sat some time under the shelter of a large tree, to contemplate its appearance, and to give time to arrange our party for passing the stream, and also for my making a sketch. The red glare of the setting sun, just touching the top of every object, beautifully illuminated the landscape; and its rays bursting through the black woods in the background, gave the woods an appearance of being on fire; while a beautiful rainbow, thrown across the sky, tinged the scene with a fairy-land effect.
As soon as they perceived us from the opposite shore, a loud shout of welcome was raised, and all the inhabitants came out to meet us. They carried us over the stream, conducted us to their huts, and then sat down to gaze at and admire us.
As we were very hungry after our fatiguing walk, we soon unpacked our baggage, and in so doing made an unavoidable display of many valuable and glittering objects, which roused the attention of our savage spectators, and caused them, on the unfolding of every fresh object, to make loud and long exclamations of wonder and amazement. As I was then "a stranger in their land," and unaccustomed to their peculiarities, I felt a little alarmed at their shouts; but, on a longer acquaintance with them, I found my fears had been groundless.
Here we saw the son of Patuone, accompanied by thirty or forty young savages, sitting or lying all round us. All were exceedingly handsome, notwithstanding the wildness of their appearance and the ferocity of their looks. Let the reader picture to himself this savage group, handling everything they saw, each one armed with a musket, loaded with ball, a cartouch-box buckled round his waist, and a stone patoo-patoo, or hatchet, in his hand, while human bones were hung round each neck by way of ornament; let the scene and situation be taken into consideration, and he will acknowledge it was calculated to make the young traveller wish himself safe at home; but, when I suspected, I wronged them; for after admiring everything we had brought with us (more especially our fowling-pieces, which were very beautiful ones), they begged a little tobacco, then retired to a distance from the hut which had been prepared for our reception, and left us to take our supper uninterrupted; after which they placed all our baggage in the hut, that we might be assured of its safety.
It proved a rainy, miserable night; and we were a large party, crowded into a small, smoky hut, with a fire lighted in the middle; as, after our supper, the natives, in order to have as much of our company as possible, crowded it till it was literally crammed. However annoying this might be, still I was recompensed by the novelty and picturesque appearance of the scene. Salvator Rosa could not have conceived a finer study of the horrible. A dozen men, of the largest and most athletic forms, their cakahoos (or mat-dresses) laid aside, and their huge limbs exposed to the red glare of the fire; their faces rendered hideous by being tattooed all over, showing by the firelight quite a bright blue; their eyes, which are remarkable for their fierce expression, all fixed upon us, but with a look of good temper, co-mingled with intense curiosity. All my fears had by this time subsided, and, being master of myself, I had leisure to study and enjoy the scene; we smoked a social pipe with them (for they are all immoderately fond of tobacco), and I then stretched myself down to sleep amidst all their chattering and smoke.
But all my attempts at slumber were fruitless. I underwent a simultaneous attack of vermin of all descriptions; fleas, mosquitoes, and sand-flies, which, beside their depredations on my person, made such a buzzing noise, that even the chattering of the natives could not drown it, or the smoke from the fire or pipes drive them away.
Next morning, at daybreak, we took leave of our hosts, and proceeded on our journey; we had eight miles more of this thick forest to scramble through, and this part we found considerably worse than that we had traversed yesterday. The roots of trees covered the path in all directions, rendering it necessary to watch every step we took, in order to prevent being thrown down; the supple-jacks, suspended and twining from tree to tree, making in many places a complete net-work; and while we were toiling with the greatest difficulty through this miserable road, our natives were jogging on as comfortably as possible: use had so completely accustomed them to it, that they sprung over the roots, and dived under the supple-jacks and branches, with perfect ease, while we were panting after them in vain. The whole way was mountainous. The climbing up, and then descending, was truly frightful; not a gleam of sky was to be seen, all was a mass of gigantic trees, straight and lofty, their wide spreading branches mingling overhead, and producing throughout the forest an endless darkness and unbroken gloom.
After three or four hours of laborious struggling, we emerged from the wood, and found ourselves upon an extensive plain, which, as far as the eye could reach, appeared covered with fern. A small path lay before us, and this was our road. The New Zealanders always travel on foot, one after the other, or in Indian file. Their pathways are not more than a foot wide, which to a European is most painful; but as the natives invariably walk with the feet turned in, or pigeon-toed, they feel no inconvenience from the narrowness. When a traveller is once on the path, it is impossible for him to go astray. No other animal, except man, ever traverses this country, andhistrack cannot be mistaken, since none ever deviate from the beaten footpath, which was in consequence, in some places (where the soil was light), worn so deep as to resemble a gutter more than a road. We proceeded for many miles in this unsocial manner; unsocial, for it precludes all conversation. Our natives occasionally gave us a song, or, rather, dirge, in which they all joined chorus. Having at length attained the summit of a hill, we beheld the Bay of Islands, stretching out in the distance; and at sunset we arrived at the Kerikeri river, where there is a Church-missionary settlement.
Mission Station, Kerikeri.
Mission Station, Kerikeri.
We had travelled all day through a country in which every object we saw was of a character that reminded us forcibly of the savage community we were with. Occasionally we met groups of naked men, trotting along under immense loads, and screaming their barbarous songs of recognition; sometimes we beheld an uncouthly carved figure, daubed over with red ochre, and fixed in the ground, to give notice that one side of the road was tabooed. An extraordinary contrast was now presented to our view, for we came suddenly in front of a complete little English village. Wreaths of white smoke were rising from the chimneys, of neat weather-boarded houses. The glazed windows reflected the brilliant glow from the rays of the setting sun, while herds of fat cattle were winding down the hills, lowing as they leisurely bent their steps toward the farm-yard. It is impossible for me to describe what I felt on contemplating a scene so similar to those I had left behind me.
According to the custom of this country, we fired our muskets, to warn the inhabitants of the settlement of our approach. We arranged our dresses in the best order we could, and proceeded towards the village. As the report of our guns had been heard, groups of nondescripts came running out to meet us. I could scarcely tell to what order of beings they belonged; but on their near approach, I found them to be the New Zealand youths, who were settled with the missionaries. They were habited in the most uncouth dresses imaginable. These pious men, certainly, have no taste for the picturesque; they had obscured the finest human forms under a seaman's huge clothing. Boys not more than fifteen wore jackets reaching to their knees, and buttoned up to the throat with great black horn buttons, a coarse checked shirt, the collar of which spread half-way over their face, their luxuriant, beautiful hair was cut close off, and each head was crammed into a close Scotch bonnet!
These half-converted, or, rather, half-covered, youths, after rubbing noses, and chattering with our guides, conducted us to the dwellings of their masters. As I had a letter of introduction from one of their own body, I felt not the slightest doubt of a kind reception; so we proceeded with confidence. We were ushered into a house, all cleanliness and comfort, all order, silence, and unsociability. After presenting my letter to a grave-looking personage, it had to undergo a private inspection in an adjoining room, and the result was an invitation "to stay and take a cup of tea!" All that an abundant farm and excellent grocer in England could supply were soon before us. Each person of the mission, as he appeared during our repast, was called aside, and I could hear my own letter read and discussed by them. I could not help thinking (within myself) whether this was a way to receive a countryman at the Antipodes! No smile beamed upon their countenance; there were no inquiries after news; in short, there was no touch of human sympathy, such as we "of the world" feel at receiving an Englishman under our roof in such a savage country as this!
The chubby children who peeped at us from all corners, and the very hearty appearance of their parents, plainly evidenced that theirs was an excellent and thriving trade. We had a cold invitation to stay all night; but this the number of our party entirely precluded; so they lent us their boat to convey us to the Bay of Islands, a distance of about twenty-five miles.
As the night proved dark and stormy, and as our boat was crowded with natives, our passage down the Kerikeri river became both disagreeable and dangerous. The river being filled with rocks, some under, and others just above the water, we were obliged to keep a good look-out. After experiencing many alarms, we arrived safely at Kororareka beach about midnight, where an Englishman of the name of Johnstone gave us a shelter in his hut.
In the morning we beheld two vessels at anchor in the harbour. The Indian, whaler, of London, and the East India Company's ship Research; which latter ship had been cruising in search of the wreck of the vessels under the command of La Perouse, and had completely elucidated the circumstances relating to that event. The Bay of Islands is surrounded by lofty and picturesque hills, and is secured from all winds. It is full of lovely coves, and a safe anchorage is to be found nearly all over it; added to this, a number of navigable rivers are for ever emptying themselves into the Bay, which is spotted with innumerable romantic islands all covered with perpetual verdure.
It is with peculiar interest that we look upon the spot where the illustrious Cook cast anchor after his discovery of this Bay. Some unhappy quarrels with the natives occasioned much blood to be shed on both sides, and for a long time caused this island to be looked upon with horror, and avoided by all Europeans. It was the courage and enterprise of the crews of our South Sea Whalers who exhibited these interesting islanders in their true character, and proved to the world that it was quite as safe to anchor in the Bay of Islands as in the harbour of Port Jackson.
Since the time of Cook, and other circumnavigators of that period, the character of these people has undergone a thorough change. Then it was necessary when a ship anchored, that the boarding nettings should be up, and all the arms ready for immediate use. The principal object the chiefs had in view seemed to be to lull the commanders into a fatal security, then to rush upon them, seize their vessel, and murder all the crew! Too often had they succeeded, and as often have they paid most dearly for their treachery and cruelty. In the case of the ship Boyd, though they attained their object, they were as completely punished for their perfidy. From their ignorance of the nature of powder, and the use of a magazine, they blew up the ship, and vast numbers of the natives were destroyed. Besides this calamity, they brought down upon themselves the vengeance of every vessel that visited these shores for a long period afterwards. As the circumstances may not be generally known, Mr. Berry's letter, relating the particulars of that melancholy, yet interesting event, is here inserted:—
"Ship, City of Edinburgh,
"Lima, Oct. 20, 1810.
Sir,—
I am very sorry to have the painful task of introducing myself to you, with an account of the loss of your ship Boyd, Captain Thompson.Towards the end of last year I was employed in the Bay of Islands, New Zealand, in procuring a cargo of spars for the Cape of Good Hope. About the middle of December the natives brought me an account of a ship's being taken at Whangaroa, a harbour about fifty miles to the N.W. At first we were disposed to doubt the truth of this report, but it every day became more probable, from the variety of circumstances they informed us of; and which were so connected as appeared impossible for them to invent. Accordingly, about the end of the month, when we had finished our cargo, although it was a business of some danger, I determined to go round."I set out with three armed boats: we experienced very bad weather, and after a narrow escape were glad to return to the ship. As we arrived in a most miserable condition, I had then relinquished all idea of the enterprise; but having recruited my strength and spirits, I was shocked at the idea of leaving any of my countrymen in the hands of savages, and determined to make a second attempt. We had this time better weather, and reached the harbour without any difficulty. Whangaroa is formed as follows:—First, a large outer bay, with an island at its entrance; in the bottom of this bay is seen a narrow opening, which appears terminated at the distance of a quarter of a mile; but, upon entering it, it is seen to expand into two large basins, at least as secure as any of the docks on the banks of the Thames, and capable of containing (I think) the whole British navy. We found the wreck of the Boyd in shoal water, at the top of the harbour, a most melancholy picture of wanton mischief. The natives had cut her cables, and towed her up the harbour till she had grounded, and then set her on fire, and burnt her to the water's edge. In her hold were seen the remains of her cargo—coals, salted seal skins, and planks. Her guns, iron, standards, etc., were lying on the top, having fallen in when her decks were consumed."The cargo must have been very valuable; but it appears that the captain, anxious to make a better voyage, had come to that port for the purpose of filling up with spars for the Cape of Good Hope."Not to tire you with the minutia of the business, I recovered from the natives a woman, two children, and a boy of the name of Davies, one of your apprentices, who were the only survivors. I found also the accompanying papers, which, I hope, may prove of service to you. I did all this by gentle measures, and you will admit that bloodshed and revenge would have answered no good purpose. The ship was taken the third morning after her arrival. The captain had been rather too hasty in resenting some slight theft. Early in the morning the ship was surrounded by a great number of canoes, and many natives gradually insinuated themselves on board. Tippahee, a chief of the Bay of Islands, and who had been twice at Port Jackson, also arrived; he went into the cabin, and, after paying his respects to the captain, begged a little bread for his men; but the captain received him rather slightingly, and desired him to go away, and not trouble him, as he was busy."The proud old savage (who had been a constant guest at the Governor's table at Port Jackson) was highly offended at this treatment, immediately left the cabin, and, after stamping a few minutes on the deck, went into his canoe. After breakfast the captain went on shore with four hands, and no other arms but his fowling-piece. From the account of the savages, as soon as he landed they rushed upon him; he had only time to fire his piece, and it killed a child. As soon as the captain left the ship, Tippahee (who remained alongside in his canoe) came again on board. A number of sailors were repairing sails upon the quarter deck, and the remainder were carelessly dispersed about, and fifty of the natives were sitting on the deck. In a moment they all started up, and each knocked his man on the head: a few ran wounded below, and four or five escaped up the rigging, and in a few seconds the savages had complete possession of the ship. The boy Davies escaped into the hold, where he lay concealed for several days, till they were fairly glutted with human blood, when they spared his life. The woman says she was discovered by an old savage, and that she moved him by her tears and embraces; that he (being a subordinate chief) carried her to Tippahee, who allowed him to spare her life. She says, that at this time the deck was covered with human bodies, which they were employed in cutting up; after which they exhibited a most horrid dance and song in honour of their victory, and concluded by a hymn of gratitude to their god."Tippahee now took the speaking trumpet, and hailing the poor wretches at the mast-head, told them that he was now captain, and that they must in future obey his commands. He then ordered them to unbend the sails, they readily complied; but when he ordered them to come down they hesitated, but he enforced prompt obedience by threatening to cut away the masts. When they came down he received them with much civility, and told them he would take care of them; he immediately ordered them into a canoe, and sent them on shore. A few minutes after this the woman went on shore with her deliverer. The first object that struck her view was the dead bodies of these men, lying naked on the beach. As soon as she landed a number of men started up, and marched towards her with their patoo-patoos. A number of women ran screaming betwixt them, covered her with their clothes, and by tears and entreaties saved her life."The horrid feasting on human flesh which followed would be too shocking for description. The second mate begged his life at the time of the general massacre; they spared him for a fortnight, and then killed and eat him. I think if the captain had received Tippahee with a little more civility, that he would have informed him of his danger, and saved the ship; but that from being treated in the manner I have mentioned, he entered into the plot along with the others."I assure you it has been a most unpleasant thing for me to write about, and I could only have been induced to do it from a sense of duty, and a desire to give you all the information in my power, which I suppose may be of some use.
I am very sorry to have the painful task of introducing myself to you, with an account of the loss of your ship Boyd, Captain Thompson.
Towards the end of last year I was employed in the Bay of Islands, New Zealand, in procuring a cargo of spars for the Cape of Good Hope. About the middle of December the natives brought me an account of a ship's being taken at Whangaroa, a harbour about fifty miles to the N.W. At first we were disposed to doubt the truth of this report, but it every day became more probable, from the variety of circumstances they informed us of; and which were so connected as appeared impossible for them to invent. Accordingly, about the end of the month, when we had finished our cargo, although it was a business of some danger, I determined to go round.
"I set out with three armed boats: we experienced very bad weather, and after a narrow escape were glad to return to the ship. As we arrived in a most miserable condition, I had then relinquished all idea of the enterprise; but having recruited my strength and spirits, I was shocked at the idea of leaving any of my countrymen in the hands of savages, and determined to make a second attempt. We had this time better weather, and reached the harbour without any difficulty. Whangaroa is formed as follows:—First, a large outer bay, with an island at its entrance; in the bottom of this bay is seen a narrow opening, which appears terminated at the distance of a quarter of a mile; but, upon entering it, it is seen to expand into two large basins, at least as secure as any of the docks on the banks of the Thames, and capable of containing (I think) the whole British navy. We found the wreck of the Boyd in shoal water, at the top of the harbour, a most melancholy picture of wanton mischief. The natives had cut her cables, and towed her up the harbour till she had grounded, and then set her on fire, and burnt her to the water's edge. In her hold were seen the remains of her cargo—coals, salted seal skins, and planks. Her guns, iron, standards, etc., were lying on the top, having fallen in when her decks were consumed.
"The cargo must have been very valuable; but it appears that the captain, anxious to make a better voyage, had come to that port for the purpose of filling up with spars for the Cape of Good Hope.
"Not to tire you with the minutia of the business, I recovered from the natives a woman, two children, and a boy of the name of Davies, one of your apprentices, who were the only survivors. I found also the accompanying papers, which, I hope, may prove of service to you. I did all this by gentle measures, and you will admit that bloodshed and revenge would have answered no good purpose. The ship was taken the third morning after her arrival. The captain had been rather too hasty in resenting some slight theft. Early in the morning the ship was surrounded by a great number of canoes, and many natives gradually insinuated themselves on board. Tippahee, a chief of the Bay of Islands, and who had been twice at Port Jackson, also arrived; he went into the cabin, and, after paying his respects to the captain, begged a little bread for his men; but the captain received him rather slightingly, and desired him to go away, and not trouble him, as he was busy.
"The proud old savage (who had been a constant guest at the Governor's table at Port Jackson) was highly offended at this treatment, immediately left the cabin, and, after stamping a few minutes on the deck, went into his canoe. After breakfast the captain went on shore with four hands, and no other arms but his fowling-piece. From the account of the savages, as soon as he landed they rushed upon him; he had only time to fire his piece, and it killed a child. As soon as the captain left the ship, Tippahee (who remained alongside in his canoe) came again on board. A number of sailors were repairing sails upon the quarter deck, and the remainder were carelessly dispersed about, and fifty of the natives were sitting on the deck. In a moment they all started up, and each knocked his man on the head: a few ran wounded below, and four or five escaped up the rigging, and in a few seconds the savages had complete possession of the ship. The boy Davies escaped into the hold, where he lay concealed for several days, till they were fairly glutted with human blood, when they spared his life. The woman says she was discovered by an old savage, and that she moved him by her tears and embraces; that he (being a subordinate chief) carried her to Tippahee, who allowed him to spare her life. She says, that at this time the deck was covered with human bodies, which they were employed in cutting up; after which they exhibited a most horrid dance and song in honour of their victory, and concluded by a hymn of gratitude to their god.
"Tippahee now took the speaking trumpet, and hailing the poor wretches at the mast-head, told them that he was now captain, and that they must in future obey his commands. He then ordered them to unbend the sails, they readily complied; but when he ordered them to come down they hesitated, but he enforced prompt obedience by threatening to cut away the masts. When they came down he received them with much civility, and told them he would take care of them; he immediately ordered them into a canoe, and sent them on shore. A few minutes after this the woman went on shore with her deliverer. The first object that struck her view was the dead bodies of these men, lying naked on the beach. As soon as she landed a number of men started up, and marched towards her with their patoo-patoos. A number of women ran screaming betwixt them, covered her with their clothes, and by tears and entreaties saved her life.
"The horrid feasting on human flesh which followed would be too shocking for description. The second mate begged his life at the time of the general massacre; they spared him for a fortnight, and then killed and eat him. I think if the captain had received Tippahee with a little more civility, that he would have informed him of his danger, and saved the ship; but that from being treated in the manner I have mentioned, he entered into the plot along with the others.
"I assure you it has been a most unpleasant thing for me to write about, and I could only have been induced to do it from a sense of duty, and a desire to give you all the information in my power, which I suppose may be of some use.
"I am, Sir,
"Your obedient humble servant,
"ALEXANDER BERRY."
Considering Mr. Berry's limited acquaintance with these islanders, and the horror of the scene before him, his is a good and an impartial account; but facts which have been obtained subsequently have exonerated the natives to a certain extent. By repeated conversations I have held with several chiefs who were engaged in this dreadful affair, and from information I procured at Sydney, I have no doubt but that the Captain himself was the most in fault.
Whangaroa, Scene of the "Boyd" Massacre.
Whangaroa, Scene of the "Boyd" Massacre.
He was commissioned by the Government of New South Wales to land a native chief named Philip at New Zealand, whom he subjected to a cruel and impolitic punishment. This man, smarting from his stripes, and burning with a desire to revenge his dishonourable treatment, excited all his friends to the commission of that bloody massacre.
The tragic fate of the Boyd's crew is now fast sinking into oblivion; and, like the islanders of Hawaii, after the murder of Cook, they seem to wish to obliterate the remembrance of their disgraceful conduct by a kind and friendly intercourse with our nation. The severe chastisement which they have always received from us after a treacherous action, has proved to them how little they gain by so debasing a line of conduct; and as they are most anxious to possess many of our productions, they seem to have come to a resolution to abandon their former system; which, if they may not be sensible of the injustice of, they see is destructive to their own interests; and now every chief is as solicitous for the safety of a European vessel as he would have been formerly for its destruction.
They have not only lost a portion of their ferocity, but also much of their native simplicity of character, which, in all parts of the world, is so highly interesting a study for the traveller. Their constant intercourse with whalers, who are generally low, unpolished men, leaves behind it a tinge of vulgarity, of which the native women retain the largest portion. In many instances, they quite spoil their good looks, by half adopting the European costume. Those who are living in the retirement of their own villages have a natural ease and elegance of manner, which they soon lose after their introduction to our rough sailors. I have seen a party of very handsome girls, just landing from one of the whalers, their beautiful forms hid under old greasy red or checked shirts, generally put on with the hind parts before. In some cases the sailors, knowing their taste for finery, bring out with them, from London, old tawdry gowns, and fierce coloured ribands. And thus equipped, they come on shore the most grotesque objects imaginable, each highly delighted with her gaudy habiliments.
Kororareka beach, where we took up our residence, seemed the general place of rendezvous for all Europeans whom chance might bring into this bay. At this time there were two large vessels lying at anchor within a quarter of a mile of the shore, and I was informed there were sometimes as many as twelve or thirteen.
The spot is a most delightful one, being about three-quarters of a mile in extent, sheltered by two picturesque promontories, and possessing a fine circular, firm, sandy beach, on which there is seldom much surf, so that boats can at all times land and haul up. Scattered amongst the rushes and small bushes is seen a New Zealand village, which at first landing is scarcely perceptible, the huts being so low. Some of them are of English design, though of native workmanship. These are generally the dwellings of some Europeans, who are of so doubtful a character that it would be difficult to guess to what order of society they belonged previous to their being transplanted amongst these savages.
I found a respectable body of Scotch mechanics settled here, who came out in the New Zealand Company's ship Rosanna, and who determined to remain at Kororareka. Their persevering industry as yet has been crowned with success, and they seem well pleased with the prospects before them.
Here, these hardy sons of Britain are employed in both carrying on and instructing the wondering savage in various branches of useful art. Here the smith has erected his forge, and his sooty mansion is crowded by curious natives, who voluntarily perform the hardest and most dirty work, and consider themselves fully recompensed by a sight of his mysterious labours, every portion of which fills them with astonishment. Here is heard daily the sound of the sawpit, while piles of neat white planks appear arranged on the beach. These laborious and useful Scotchmen interfere with no one, and pursue successfully their industrious career, without either requiring or receiving any assistance from Home.
But there is another class of Europeans here, who are both useless and dangerous, and these lower the character of the white people in the estimation of the natives. These men are called "Beach Rangers," most of whom have deserted from, or have been turned out of whalers for crimes, for which, had they been taken Home and tried, they would have been hanged; some few among them, having been too lazy to finish the voyage they had begun, had deserted from their ships, and were then leading a mean and miserable life amongst the natives.
There is still a third class of our countrymen to be met with here, whose downcast and sneaking looks proclaim them to be runaway convicts from New South Wales. These unhappy men are treated with derision and contempt by all classes; and the New Zealanders, being perfectly aware of their state of degradation, refuse all intercourse with them. They are idle, unprincipled, and vicious in the extreme, and are much feared in the Bay of Islands; for when by any means they obtain liquor, they prove themselves most dangerous neighbours.
My friend Shand and myself were most comfortably situated. An intimate friend of mine (Captain Duke, of the whaler The Sisters) had, in consequence of ill-health, taken up his residence on shore while his vessel completed her cruise. In his hut we found comfort and safety; and from his information and advice we were enabled to avoid the advances of all whom his experience had taught him were to be shunned.
On terms of the closest intimacy, and with his hut adjoining that of my friend Captain Duke, lived Shulitea[4](or King George, as he styled himself), a chief of great power, who controlled the whole of the district where we were. We all felt grateful to him for his manifestations of friendship, and at the same time were conscious of enjoying a greater degree of security by his proximity. He was the first chief who offered protection to "the white people," and he has never been known to have broken his engagement. An unexpected and remarkable instance of his adherence to their interests, in spite of temptation, took place a few years since, which I deem worthy of relation here.
The ship Brompton, in endeavouring to work out of the bay, by some accident got on shore, and finally became a complete wreck. This fine vessel, with a valuable cargo on board, lay helpless on the beach, and the crew and passengers expected nothing less than plunder and destruction. The natives from the interior, hearing of the circumstance, hastened down in vast numbers to participate in the general pillage. But King George summoned all his warriors to his aid, and with this party placed himself between the wreck and those who came to plunder it. I was informed by several who were present at the time, that, after declaring that "not an article should be taken till himself and all his party were destroyed," he advanced, and thus explained his reasons for protecting the strangers and their property:—
"You" (said King George) "come from the interior; all of you think only of what you can get, without considering the consequences, which, indeed, are of little import to you, living, as you do, out of reach of the reproaches and vengeance of the white men. But look how differently I am situated. I live on the beach; this Bay is my residence; I invite the white men to come and trade here under the promise of my protection; they come; several years of profitable trading have passed between us. King George, they say, is a good man; now an accident has befallen one of their ships in my territory, what must King George do? Why, hemustassist them; which hewilldo, and defend them against everyone who shall attempt to injure them." In consequence of this speech, and his exertions, not a thing was taken from the wreck by the savages who had collected for that purpose.
FOOTNOTES:
[4]
The chief referred to by Mr. Earle as Shulitea, or King George, was a noted Bay of Islands chief named Whareumu. He was killed in a fight with the Hokianga tribes, in March, 1828. (See appendix.)
The chief referred to by Mr. Earle as Shulitea, or King George, was a noted Bay of Islands chief named Whareumu. He was killed in a fight with the Hokianga tribes, in March, 1828. (See appendix.)
This anecdote proves that King George and his people possessed feelings of honour and generosity, which, if properly cultivated, might lead to the most happy results. From the length of time these people have been known to the Europeans, it might naturally be expected that great changes would have taken place in their habits, manners, arts, and manufactures; but this is not the case. Their huts are of the same diminutive proportions as described by Captain Cook; their clothing and mats, their canoes and paddles, are precisely the same as when that navigator described them. When they can obtain English tools, they use them in preference to their own; still their work is not better done. The only material change that has taken place is in their mode of warfare.
The moment the New Zealanders became acquainted with the nature of firearms, their minds were directed but to one point, namely, to become possessed of them. After many ingenious and treacherous attempts to obtain these oft-coveted treasures, and which, for the most part, ended in their defeat, they had recourse to industry, and determined to create commodities which they might fairly barter for these envied muskets. Potatoes were planted, hogs were reared, and flax prepared, not for their own use or comfort, but to exchange with the Europeans for firearms. Their plans succeeded; and they have now fairly possessed themselves of those weapons, which at first made us so formidable in their eyes; and as they are in constant want of fresh supplies of ammunition, I feel convinced it will always be their wish to be on friendly terms with us, for the purpose of procuring these desirable stores. I have not heard of a single instance in which they have turned these arms against us, though they are often grossly insulted.
In their combats with each other, firearms are used with dreadful effect. The whole soul of a New Zealander seems absorbed in the thoughts of war; every action of his life is influenced by it; and to possess weapons which give him such a decided superiority over those who have only their native implements of offence, he will sacrifice everything. The value attached by them to muskets, and their ceaseless desire to possess them, will prove a sufficient security to foreigners who enter their harbours, or remain on their coasts; as I know, from experience, that the New Zealanders will rather put up with injuries than run the risk of offending those who manufacture and barter with them such inestimable commodities.
A few days after my arrival in the Bay, I crossed to the opposite side, to visit the Church missionary settlement, and to deliver a letter of introduction I had to one of the members. Here, on a beautiful bank, with a delightful beach in front, and the entrance of the bay open to them, the clear and blue expanse of water speckled over with fertile islands, reside these comfortable teachers of the Gospel. The name they have given this spot is "Marsden Vale." They very soon gave us to understand they did not wish for our acquaintance, and their coldness and inhospitality (I must acknowledge) created in my mind a thorough dislike to them. The object of the mission, as it was first planned, might have been attained, and might have proved highly beneficial to the New Zealanders; but as it is now conducted, no good result can be expected from it. Any man of common sense must agree with me, that a savage can receive but little benefit from having the abstruse points of the Gospel preached to him, if his mind is not prepared to receive them. This is the plan adopted here; and nothing will convince these enthusiasts that it is wrong, or induce them to change it for one more agreeable to the dictates of reason.
Upon inquiring who and what these men were, I found that the greater part of them were hardy mechanics (not well-educated clergymen), whom the benevolent and well-intentioned people of England had sent out in order to teach the natives the importance ofdifferent trades—a most judicious arrangement, and which ought to be the foundation of all missions. What could be a more gratifying sight than groups of these athletic savages, toiling at the anvil or the saw; erecting for themselves substantial dwellings; thus leading them by degrees to know and to appreciate the comforts resulting from peaceful, laborious, and useful occupations? Then, while they felt sincere gratitude for services rendered them, at their leisure hours, and on certain days,thesemissionaries should attempt to expound to them, in as simple a manner as possible, the nature of revealed religion!
In New Zealand, the "mechanic" missionary only carries on his trade till he has every comfort around him—his house finished, his garden fenced, and a strong stockade enclosing all, to keep off the "pagan" savages. This done, then commences the easy task of preaching. They collect a few ragged urchins of natives, whom they teach to read and write their own language—the English tongue being forbidden; and when these children return to their families, they are despised by them, as being effeminate and useless.
I once saw a sturdy blacksmith in the prime of life, sitting in the midst of a group of savages, attempting to expound to them the mysteries of our holy redemption—perplexing his own brains, as well as those of his auditors, with the most incomprehensible and absurd opinions. How much better would he have been employed in teaching them how to weld a piece of iron, or to make a nail!
What causes much disapprobation here, is the contemptuous manner in which they treat their own countrymen, as they receive most of them on the outside of their stockade fence.
On our return from Marsden Vale, our savage friends laughed heartily at us. They had warned us of the reception we should meet with; and their delight at seeing us again formed a strange contrast to that of their Christian teachers, whose inhospitable dwellings we determined never to reenter.
A few days after my visit to the missionaries, while we were busily employed in constructing our huts, assisted by about fifty natives, on a sudden a great commotion took place amongst them. Each left his work and ran to his hut, and immediately returned armed with both musket and cartouch box: apparently all the arms in the village were mustered, and all seemed ready for immediate use. On inquiring into the cause of all these war-like preparations, I was informed that Hongi and his chief men were crossing the bay in several large war canoes; and though he was considered as a friend and ally, yet, as he was a man of such desperate ambition, and consummate cunning, it was considered necessary to receive him under arms, which he might take either as a compliment, or as a proof of how well they were aware of the guest they were receiving.
This man, Hongi, was a most extraordinary character, and a person I had long had a great curiosity to see, his daring and savage deeds having often been the subject of conversation in New South Wales. In his own country he was looked upon as invulnerable and invincible. In the year 1821 he had visited England, during which he had been honoured by having a personal interview with George the Fourth, and had received from His Majesty several valuable presents; amongst others, were a superb suit of chain armour, and a splendid double-barrelled gun. From possessing these arms, so far superior to any of his neighbours, he looked upon himself as impossible to be conquered, and commenced a career of warfare and destruction on all his enemies, and nearly exterminated them. His friends called him "a god," and his enemies feared him as "a devil." Last year, Hongi made war upon, and totally annihilated, the tribe who had fifteen years previously attacked and murdered the crew of the Boyd. He had long determined to take revenge for that treacherous action, as he always styled himself "the friend of the English." After this, he removed his residence, and took possession of the conquered district. But in this his last battle he had to fight without his invulnerable coat of mail, his slaves having stolen it and gone over with it to the enemy. His people were now confirmed in their superstition respecting its being proof against shot, by his having received during the combat a bullet in the breast, from the effects of which he is fast sinking into the grave. His companions related the following extraordinary anecdote concerning him after he received this wound, which proves his great presence of mind.
His party were retreating, and the enemy were charging him vigorously; Hongi stood alone when he received the bullet; he did not fall immediately, and the enemy were eagerly running up to despatch him, when he roused all his energies, and shouted aloud for the two hundred chiefs, who lay concealed, to rush forward and fall on. The foe, hearing this, paused, when about a dozen chiefs, and indeed, as Hongi well knew, all that he had, suddenly made their appearance. This caused a panic; they turned about; the pursued became the pursuers, and nearly the whole tribe were destroyed.