With regard to many of the other habits of the New Zealanders,
Rutherford in general corroborates the testimony of other travellers.
He mentions particularly their extreme inattention to personal
cleanliness, a circumstance which very much surprised Nicholas, as it
seemed to present an unaccountable contrast to the neatness and order
which were usually to be found both in their plantations and huts.
All the natives, Rutherford states, are overrun with vermin, which lodge
not only in their heads, but in their mats. "Their way of destroying
them in their mats," he adds, "is by making a fire, on which, having
thrown a quantity of green bushes, they spread the mat over the whole,
when the steam from the leaves compels the vermin to retreat to the
surface: these the women are very active in catching on such occasions
with both hands, and devouring greedily. Sometimes two or three will be
catching them at the same mat."
The New Zealanders cure their fish, Rutherford tells us, by dipping them
a great many times in salt water, and then drying them in the sun. The
large mussels they first bake in the usual manner, and then, taking them
out of the shell, string them together, and hang them up over the fire
to dry in the smoke. Thus prepared, they eat like old cheese, and will
keep for years. The coomeras, or sweet potatoes, are also cured in the
same manner, which makes them eat like gingerbread. Their potatoes the
natives pack in baskets made of green flax, and in this way preserve
them for the winter. There are, however, three months in the year during
which they live upon little except turnips, and at this time they do
with almost no drink. The baskets in which they keep their provisions,
and apply to other domestic purposes, are formed with considerable
ingenuity, and with some taste, in their decorations.
Notwithstanding the stormy seas by which their islands are surrounded,
and the woods, swamps, and rivers, which oppose such difficulties in the
way of passing from one place to another through the heart of the
country, the New Zealanders are known to be in the habit of making long
journeys, both along the coasts in their canoes, and through the
interior on foot.
Rutherford gives us some account of a journey which he once accomplished
in company with the chief Aimy.
"I took," says he, "my wife Epecka with me, and we were attended by
about twenty slave-women to carry our provisions, every one of whom bore
on her back, besides a supply for her own consumption, about thirty
pounds of potatoes, and drove before her at the same time a pig, which
she held by a string tied to its fore-leg.
"The men never travel without being armed. Our journey was made
sometimes by water and sometimes by land; and, proceeding in this
manner, we arrived, in about a month, at a place called Taranake,[BC] on
the coast of Cook Strait, where we were received by Otago,[BD] a great
chief, who had come from near the South Cape. On meeting we saluted each
other in the customary manner by touching noses, and there was also a
great deal of crying, as usual.
"Here I saw an Englishman, named James Mowry, who told me that he had
formerly been a boy belonging to a ship called the 'Sydney Cove,' which
had put in near the South Cape, when a boat's crew, of which he was one,
had been sent on shore for the purpose of trading with the natives. They
were attacked, however, and every man of them killed except himself, he
having been indebted for his preservation to his youth and the
protection of Otago's daughter: this lady he had since married. He had
now been eight years in the country, and had become so completely
reconciled to the manners and way of life of the natives, that he had
resolved never to leave it. He was twenty-four years of age, handsome,
and of middle size, and had been well tattooed. He had also been made a
chief, and had often accompanied the natives to their wars. He spoke
their language, and had forgotten a great deal of his own. He told me he
had heard of the capture of our ship, and gave me an account of the
deaths of Smith and Watson, two of my unfortunate shipmates. I, in turn,
related to him my story, and what I had gone through.[BE]
"The village of Taranake stands by the sea-side, and the manners and
customs of the inhabitants are the same as prevail in other parts of the
island.
"We remained here six weeks; and during this time I employed myself in
looking out for a ship passing through the Straits, by which I might
make my escape, but was never fortunate enough to see one. I kept my
intention, however, a secret from Mowry, for he was too much attached to
the natives for me to trust him.
"On leaving Taranake we took our way along the coast, and after a
journey of six weeks arrived at the East Cape, where we met with a
great chief, named Bomurry, belonging to the Bay of Islands. He told us
that he resided in the neighbourhood of Kendal,[BF] the missionary. He
had about five hundred warriors with him, and several war-canoes, in one
of which I observed a trunk, having on it the name of Captain Brin, of
the 'Asp,' South Seaman. These people had also with them a number of
muskets, with polished barrels, and a few small kegs of powder, as well
as a great quantity of potatoes and flax mats. They had plundered and
murdered nearly every person that lived between the East Cape and the
river Thames; and the whole country dreaded the name of Bomurry.
"This great warrior showed us several of the heads of chiefs whom he had
killed on this expedition, and these, he said, he intended to carry back
with him to the Bay of Islands, to sell for gunpowder to the ships that
touched there. He and his followers having taken leave of us, and set
sail in their canoes, we also left the East Cape the day following, and
proceeded on our journey homewards, travelling during the day, and
encamping at night in the woods, where we slept around large fires under
the branches of the trees. In this way we arrived in four days at our
own village, where I was received by Eshou, my eldest wife, with great
joy. I was much fatigued by my journey, as was also my other wife,
Epecka, who had accompanied me."
The person whom Rutherford here calls Bomurry is doubtless the chief
described in most of the other recent accounts of New Zealand under the
name of Pomaree, or Pomarree[BG], one of the most extraordinary
characters in that country. He had taken this name instead of another by
which he used to be called, Nicholas informs us, a short time before he
first saw him in 1815, because he had heard that it was that of the king
of Otaheite, according to the practice which prevails among his
countrymen of frequently changing their names, and calling themselves
after persons of whose power or rank they have conceived a high idea.
Pomaree is described by this gentleman as having been looked upon, even
in his own country, as a monster of rapacity and cruelty, always
involved in quarrels with his neighbours, and in the habit of stealing
their property whenever he had an opportunity. Duaterra asserted that on
a recent occasion he had made an incursion into his territory, and,
without any provocation, murdered six of his people, the bodies of all
of whom he afterwards devoured, not even their heads having escaped his
gluttony, after he had stuck them upon a stick and roasted them at the
fire.
The New Zealand chiefs, however, not excepting the most respectable
among them, were found to be sadly given to calumniate one another by
all sorts of fictions; and even Pomaree, bad as he really was, seems
sometimes to have been worse reported of by the others than he deserved.
Upon another occasion Korro-korro told a long story about a design which
he said had been formed to cut off the ship belonging to the
missionaries, and of which he maintained that Pomaree was the principal
instigator; but this was afterwards discovered to be a mere invention of
that otherwise very honourable chief.
Notwithstanding Pomaree's bad reputation, indeed, it is remarkable that
we do not find a single instance anywhere recorded in which any European
had reason to complain of his conduct. Nicholas was once dreadfully
alarmed by the apprehension that he had decoyed away his friend,
Marsden, to murder him; but was very soon relieved by the return of the
reverend gentleman from a friendly walk which he had been enjoying, in
the company of his supposed assassin, through one of the woods on his
territory.
Pomaree, in truth, was too thoroughly aware of the advantages to be
derived from the visits of the Europeans to think of exercising his
murderous propensities upon their persons, however fond he might have
been of embruing his hands in the blood of his own countrymen.
"We found Pomaree," says Nicholas, "to be a very extraordinary
character; he was of more service to us in procuring timber than all
the other chiefs put together; and I never met, in any part of the
world, with a man who showed so much impatient avidity for transacting
business. His abilities, too, in this line were very great; he was an
excellent judge of several articles, and could give his opinion of an
axe as well as any European; while handling it with ecstasy the moment
he got it in his possession, his eyes would still feast themselves on so
valuable an acquisition."
He then relates an anecdote of him which strikingly corresponds with one
of the circumstances which Rutherford mentions: his custom of
trafficking in preserved heads.
"This man," continues Nicholas, "displayed upon every occasion a more
uncomplying spirit of independence than any of the other chiefs. It is
customary with the New Zealanders to preserve from putrefaction, by a
curious method, the heads of the enemies they have slain in battle; and
Pomaree had acquired so great a proficiency in this art that he was
considered the most expert at it of any of his countrymen. The process,
as I was informed, consists of taking out the brains, and drying the
head in such a manner as to keep the flesh entire; but in doing this an
uncommon degree of skill and experience is required. Marsden put some
questions to Pomaree one day about the plan he pursued in this art that
gave him so decided a superiority over the others; but he was not
willing to make him a direct reply, as he knew it was a subject on
which we reflected with horror, and one which in its detail must be
shocking to our feelings. But my friend asking him if he could procure a
head preserved in this manner, it occurred to him that he might receive
an axe for his trouble; and this idea made the man of business not only
enter into a copious explanation of his system, but induced him also to
offer us a sample of his practice, by telling us he would go and shoot
some people who had killed his son, if we would supply him with powder
for the purpose; and then, bringing back their heads, would show us all
we wished to know about his art of preserving them.
"It will easily be supposed that this sanguinary proposal immediately
put an end to all further interrogatories; and Marsden, whose motive for
questioning him on the subject was not to discover the nature of a
practice so revolting to humanity, but to develop more fully the
character of the individual, told him he must fight no more, and desired
him, in positive terms, never to attempt to bring any sample of his art
on board, as he had no intention of seeing it himself at the time he
inquired about it, nor would he suffer any one in the ship to
countenance such a shocking exhibition.
"This was a sad disappointment to Pomaree, who found himself deceived in
the hopes he had formed of increasing his wealth by the addition of
another axe; and I cannot help believing that, for so tempting a
reward, he would not have hesitated to take the life of the first person
that came in his way, provided he could have done it with impunity. This
chief omitted no opportunity of setting forth his great personal
qualifications, as likewise the extensive authority he possessed; and he
was constantly boasting of his warlike achievements, despising his
rivals, and extolling himself over all the other heroes of New Zealand."
Cruise has given us a short account of the manner of preserving heads;
and we find it also detailed in Rutherford's journal, somewhat more
minutely. According to him the skull is first completely emptied of its
contents, the eyes and tongue being likewise extracted; after which the
nostrils and entire inside of the skull are stuffed with flax. At the
neck, where the head has been cut from the body, they draw the skin
together like the mouth of a purse, leaving, however, an open space
large enough to admit the hand.
They then wrap it up in a quantity of green leaves, and in this state
expose it to the fire till it is well steamed; after which the leaves
are taken off, and it is next hung up to dry in the smoke, which causes
the flesh to become tough and hard. Both the hair and teeth are
preserved, and the tattooing on the face remains as plain as when the
person was alive. The head, when thus cured, will keep for ever, if it
be preserved dry.
Cruise says that the heads are only exposed to a current of dry air;
but it appears, from Rutherford's account, that they are hung in the
smoke of a wood fire, and are thus, in fact, preserved from decaying
principally by being impregnated with the pyroligneous acid. That the
New Zealanders are well acquainted with the antiseptic powers of this
extract is proved also by what was formerly stated as to their method of
curing mussels. A French writer considers that this art of preserving
heads is a proof of some original connection between the New Zealanders
and the ancient world; as the process is as effective as that by which
the Egyptians prepared their mummies.
In savage countries the spirit of war is very much a spirit of personal
hostility; and both because of this, and from the state of society not
admitting of the erection of expensive public memorials which elsewhere,
or in another age, are employed to preserve the renown of military
exploits, the barbarian victor generally celebrates his triumph on the
body of his slain enemy, in disfiguring which he first exercises his
ingenuity, and afterwards in converting it into a permanent trophy of
his prowess.
The ancient Scythian warrior, Herodotus tells us, was wont to carry away
the heads of all those whom he slew in battle, to present to his king;
and the ancient Gauls, it is said, used to hang these bloody spoils
around the necks of their horses. The Gauls are asserted also to have
been in the practice of embalming the heads which they brought home from
their wars, of which they had large collections, which they kept in
chests. These they used to show with much exultation to the strangers
who visited their country; boasting that neither they nor their
ancestors had ever been known to dispose of such honourable heirlooms
for any price that could be offered.
Among some races it has been the custom to preserve only the scalp; as,
for instance, among the Indians of America. The taking of scalps,
however, is also a practice of great antiquity. The Scythians used to
hang the scalps of their enemies to the harness of their horses; and he
was deemed the most distinguished warrior whose equipage was most
plentifully decorated with these ornaments. Some were accustomed to sew
numbers of scalps together, so as to form a cloak, in which they arrayed
themselves. It was also usual for the warriors of this nation to tear
off the skin from the right hands of their slain enemies, and to
preserve it with the nails attached; and sometimes they flayed the whole
body, and, after drying the skin, made use of it as a covering for their
horses.
Some of the savage tribes of America are said to have been accustomed to
practice the same barbarity, and to convert the skins of the hands into
pouches for holding their tobacco.
The history of Scotland affords an instance, even in comparatively
recent times, of a victorious party, in the bitterness of their
contempt and hatred, employing the skin of a slain enemy in a somewhat
similar manner. Hugh Cressingham, appointed by Edward I. Lord Chief
Justice of Scotland, having been slain at Stirling Bridge in an attack
by Wallace, the Scots flayed him, and made saddles and girths of his
skin.
To recur to the practices of a higher state of civilization, our own
custom, which existed as late as the last century, of exposing the heads
of traitors, although meant as a warning, in the same way as hanging in
chains, was perhaps a relic of those ferocious ages when it was not
considered mean and brutal to carry revenge beyond the grave. The
executions in London, after the rebellion of 1745, were followed by such
a revolting display, useless for any object of salutary terror, and
calculated only to excite a vulgar curiosity. Horace Walpole, in a very
few words, describes the feelings with which the public crowded to this
sight:--"I have been this morning at the Tower, and passed under the new
heads of Temple Bar, where people make a trade of letting spying glasses
at a halfpenny a look."
The New Zealanders have, therefore, in some degree, a justification for
this custom in the somewhat similar acts of civilized communities. At
any rate, in preserving, as they do, the heads of their enemies, they
only follow a practice which has been common to many other barbarous
tribes.
Although Pomaree, it would appear, made a merchandise of these heads
when he had the opportunity, his countrymen, in general, are far from
treating them with so much disrespect. It was with great reluctance that
some of them were prevailed upon to sell one to Mr. Banks, when he was
with Cook in Queen Charlotte Sound, in 1770; and nothing could induce
them to part with a second. They are, in fact, preserved as spoils or
trophies during the continuance of the war; and their restoration to the
party from whom they have been taken is so indispensable a preliminary
to the conclusion of a peace, that it is said no chief would dispose of
them, unless it were his determination never to come to terms with his
opponents; so that we may suppose this was what Pomaree had resolved
upon.
The brain is eaten, like the rest of the body; and the eyes are also
frequently devoured by the conqueror, especially the left eye, which, it
is believed, ascends to heaven and becomes a star. Shungie is stated,
upon one occasion, to have eaten the left eye of a great chief whom he
had killed in battle, under the idea of thus increasing the glory and
brightness of his own left eye, when it should be transferred to the
firmament; for it is understood that when any one eats of the person he
has killed, the dead man becomes a part of himself.
[Illustration: _Christchurch Museum._
Stone implements used by Maoris for cutting hair.]
Nicholas tells another amusing story of Pomaree's style of doing
"business," which we shall also give in his own words. "This wily
chief," says he, "had cast a longing eye upon a chisel belonging to one
of the missionaries, and to obtain it he had brought some fish on board,
which he presented to the owner of the chisel with so much apparent
generosity and friendliness, that the other could not help considering
it a gratuitous favour, and, receiving it as such, told him he felt very
grateful for his kindness.
"But Pomaree had no idea of any such disinterested liberality, and as
soon as the fish were eaten, he immediately demanded the chisel in
return; which, however, was not granted, as it was a present much too
valuable to be given away for so trifling a consideration. Incensed at
the denial, the chief flew into a violent rage, and testified, by loud
reproaches, how grievously he was provoked by the ill-success of his
project. He told the person, who very properly refused to comply with
his demand, that 'he was no good,' and that he would never again bring
him anything more. He attempted the same crafty experiment upon another
of our party also, but this proved equally abortive, the person being
well aware of his character, and knowing he would require from him ten
times more than the worth of his pretended favour."
Though so covetous and crafty himself, however, Pomaree had no mercy to
show for the delinquencies of others. On one occasion, when a poor
"cookee" had been detected in the commission of some petty theft about
the vessel, he was loud in his exhortations to the captain to hang him
up immediately. The man appears, indeed, to have been altogether
divested even of those natural affections which scarcely any of his
savage countrymen but himself were found to be without.
When Marsden and Nicholas left New Zealand, a number of the chiefs sent
their sons with them to Port Jackson; and such a scene of anguish took
place on the parting between the parents and their children that there
was no European present, Nicholas says, not excepting the most obdurate
sailor on board, who was not more or less affected. "But I cannot help
noticing," he adds, "that in the general expression of inconsolable
distress, Pomaree was the only person who showed no concern; he took
leave of his son with all the indifference imaginable, and hurrying into
his canoe, paddled back to the shore--a solitary exception to the
affecting sensibility of his countrymen."
Even Pomaree, however, could weep on some occasions, as the following
account which Marsden gives us of an interview he had with him four or
five years after this will show. "He told me," says Marsden, "that he
was very angry that I had not brought a blacksmith for him; and that
when he heard that there was no blacksmith for him, he sat down and wept
much, and also his wives. I assured him that he should have one, as
soon as one could be got for him. He replied it would be of no use to
him to send a blacksmith when he was dead; and that he was at present in
the greatest distress: his wooden spades were all broke, and he had not
an axe to make any more; his canoes were all broke, and he had not a
nail or a gimlet to mend them with; his potato grounds were
uncultivated, and he had not a hoe to break them up with, nor a tool to
employ his people; and that, for want of cultivation, he and his people
would have nothing to eat. He begged me to compare the land of
Tippoonah,[BH] which belonged to the inhabitants of Ranghee-hoo[BI] and
Shungie, with his; observing, that their land was already prepared for
planting, because a smith was there, and they could get hoes, &c. I
endeavoured to pacify his mind with promises, but he paid little
attention to what I said in respect to sending him a smith at a future
period."
Pomaree was by much too cunning to be cheated of his object in this way.
He was evidently determined not to go without something in hand; and
nothing accordingly would drive him from his point.
When Marsden tried to divert his attention to another subject by asking
him if he should wish to go to England, he replied at once that he
should not; adding, with his characteristic shrewdness, that he was a
little man when at Port Jackson, and should be less in England; but in
his own country he was a great king. The conference ended at last by an
express promise that he should have immediately three hoes, an axe, a
few nails, and a gimlet. This instantly put him in great good humour.
We have collected these notices in order to give a more complete
illustration of so singular and interesting a character as that formed
by the union of the rude and bloodthirsty barbarian with the bustling
trafficker. It is an exhibition of the savage mind in a new guise. We
have only to add, with regard to Pomaree, that it appears by other
authorities, as well as by the notice we find in Rutherford, that he was
in the habit of making very devastating excursions occasionally to the
southern part of the island. When Cruise left New Zealand in 1820, he
had been away on one of these expeditions nearly a year, nor was it
known exactly where he had gone to. The people about the mouth of the
Thames said they had seen him since he left home, but he had long ago
left their district for one still farther south. The last notice we find
of him, is in a letter from the Rev. H. Williams, in the "Missionary
Register" for 1827, in which it is stated, that he had a short time
before fallen in battle, having been cut to pieces, with many of his
followers, by a tribe on whom he had made an attack.
This event, of the circumstances of which Dillon was furnished with a
particular account by some of the near relations of the deceased chief,
took place in the southern part of the island.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote BC: This is one of the discrepancies in Rutherford's
narrative. Taranaki is a district on the West Coast of the North Island,
and is about 150 miles from Cook Strait.]
[Footnote BD: Otago is a large province in the southern part of the
South Island, 300 miles from the Strait. Rutherford probably refers to
Takou, a Wairarapa chief, who was connected with the Ngai-Tahu of
Otago.]
[Footnote BE: It is supposed that the man was "Jim the Maori," the
latter word being wrongly spelt "Moury" in the manuscript of
Rutherford's story. The man's real name was James Caddell. He was an
Englishman by birth, and lived amongst the Maoris so long that he became
one of them, adopting their customs and ideas. Those who have
investigated his case believe that he belonged to the "Sydney Cove," a
sealer, which sailed in New Zealand waters. Near the South Cape, a boat
from a sealer was captured by the Maoris, and all the members of the
crew except Caddell were killed and eaten. Caddell, according to his own
account, was saved by running to a chief and touching his mat. He was
sixteen years of age then. He married a chief's daughter, and became a
Maori in all respects except colour. He was captured by Captain
Edwardson, of the "Snapper," and was taken to Sydney, where he seems to
have paraded as a savage chief. While he was with the Maoris, he almost
forgot the English language, and found much difficulty in making himself
understood by Captain Edwardson.]
[Footnote BF: Mr. Kendal was one of the missionaries who went to New
Zealand with Marsden when missionary work in the country was begun.]
[Footnote BG: Pomare.]
[Footnote BH: Te Puna, at that time the principal town in the Bay of
Islands.]
[Footnote BI: Rangihoua.]