CHAPTER VII.

Excitement caused by first Contact with Europeans.--The two great

Institutions of Maori Land.--The Muru.--The Tapu. Instances of

Legal Robbery.--Descriptions and Examples of the Muru.--Profit and

Loss.--Explanation of some of the Workings of the Law of Muru.

The natives have been for fifty years or more in a continual state of

excitement on one subject or another: this has had a markedly bad

effect on their character and physical condition, as I shall by-and-by

take occasion to point out. When the first straggling ships came here,

the smallest bit of iron was a prize so inestimable that I might be

thought to exaggerate were I to tell the bare truth on the subject. The

excitement and speculation caused by a ship being seen off the coast

were immense. Where would she anchor? What _iron_ could be got from

her? Would it be possible to seize her? The oracle was consulted,

preparations were made to follow her along the coast, even through an

enemy's country, at all risks; and when she disappeared she was not

forgotten, but would continue long to be the subject of anxious

expectation and speculation.

After this, regular trading began. The great madness then was for

muskets and gunpowder. A furious competition was kept up. Should any

tribe fail to procure a stock of these articles as soon as its

neighbours, extermination was its probable doom. We may then imagine

the excitement, the over-labour, the hardship, the starvation

(occasioned by crops neglected whilst labouring to produce flax or

other commodity demanded in payment)--I say imagine, but I have seen at

least part of it.

After the demand for arms was supplied, came a perfect furor for iron

tools, instruments of husbandry, clothing, and all kinds of pakeha

manufactures. These things having been quite beyond their means while

they were supplying themselves with arms, they were in the most extreme

want of them; particularly iron tools. A few years ago the madness ran

upon horses and cattle; now, young New Zealand believes in nothing but

money, and they are continually tormenting themselves with plans to

acquire it in large sums at once, without the trouble of slow and

saving industry; which, as applied to the accumulation of money, they

neither approve of nor understand: nor will they ever, as a people,

take this mode till convinced that money, like everything else of

value, can only be procured as a rule by giving full value for it,

either in labour or the produce of labour.

Here I am, I find, again before my story. Right down to the present

time, talking of "young New Zealand," and within a hair's-breadth of

settling "the Maori difficulty" without having been paid for it; which

would have been a great oversight, and contrary to the customs of New

Zealand. I must go back.

There were in the old times two great institutions, which ruled with

iron rod in Maori land--the _Tapu_ and the _Muru_. Pakehas who knew no

better called the _muru_ simply "robbery," because the word _muru_, in

its common signification, means to plunder. But I speak of the regular

legalized and established system of plundering, as penalty for

offences; which in a rough way resembled our law by which a man is

obliged to pay "damages." Great abuses had, however, crept into this

system--so great, indeed, as to render the retention of any sort of

movable property almost an impossibility, and in a great measure, too,

discourage the inclination to labour for its acquisition. These great

inconveniences were, however, met, or in some degree softened, by an

expedient of a peculiarly Maori nature, which I shall by-and-by

explain.

The offences for which people were plundered were sometimes of a nature

which, to a _mere_ pakeha, would seem curious. A man's child fell in

the fire and was almost burnt to death. The father was immediately

plundered to an extent that almost left him without the means of

subsistence: fishing-nets, canoes, pigs, provisions--all went. His

canoe upset, and he and all his family narrowly escaped drowning--some

were, perhaps, drowned. He was immediately robbed, and well pummelled

with a club into the bargain, if he was not good at the science of

self-defence--the club part of the ceremony being always fairly

administered one against one, and after fair warning given to defend

himself. He might be clearing some land for potatoes, burning off the

fern, and the fire spreads farther than he intended, and gets into a

_wahi tapu_ or burial-ground. No matter whether any one has been buried

in it or no for the last hundred years: he is tremendously robbed. In

fact, for ten thousand different causes a man might be robbed; and I

can really imagine a case in which a man for scratching his own head

might be legally robbed.

Now as the enforcers of this law were also the parties who received the

damages, as well as the judges of the amount--which in many cases (such

as that of the burnt child) would be everything they could by any means

lay hands on--it is easy to perceive that under such a system, personal

property was an evanescent sort of thing altogether. These executions

or distraints were never resisted. Indeed in many cases (as I shall

explain by-and-by), it would have been felt as a slight, and even an

insult, _not_ to be robbed; the sacking of a man's establishment being

often taken as a high compliment, especially if his head was broken

into the bargain: and to resist the execution would not only have been

looked upon as mean and disgraceful in the highest degree, _but it

would have debarred the contemptible individual from the privilege of

robbing his neighbours_; which was the compensating expedient I have

alluded to. All this may seem a waste of words to my pakeha Maori

readers, to whom these things have become such matters of course as to

be no longer remarkable; but I have remembered that there are so many

new people in the country who don't understand the beauty of being

knocked down and robbed, that I shall say a few more words on the

subject.

The tract of country inhabited by a single tribe might be, say, from

forty to a hundred miles square, and the different villages of the

different sections of the tribe would be scattered over this area at

different distances from each other. We will by way of illustrating the

working of the _muru_ system, take the case of the burnt child. Soon

after the accident it would be heard of in the neighbouring villages;

the family of the mother are probably the inhabitants of one of them,

and have, according to the law of _muru_, the first and greatest right

to clean out the afflicted father; a child being considered to belong

to the family of the mother more than to that of the father--in fact,

it is their child, which the father has the rearing of. The child was,

moreover, a promising lump of a boy, the makings of a future warrior,

and consequently very valuable to the whole tribe in general; but to

the mother's family in particular. "A pretty thing to let him get

spoiled." Then he is a boy of good family, a _rangatira_ by birth, and

it would never do to let the thing pass without making a noise about

it: that would be an insult to the dignity of the families of both

father and mother. Decidedly, besides being robbed, the father must be

assaulted with a spear. True, he is a famous spearsman, and for his own

credit must "hurt" some one or another if attacked. But this is of no

consequence: a flesh wound more or less deep is to be counted on; and

then think of the plunder! It is against the law of _muru_ that any one

should be killed, and first blood ends the duel. Then the natural

affection of all the child's relations is great. They are all in a

great state of excitement, and trying to remember how many canoes, and

pigs, and other valuable articles, the father has got: for this must be

a clean sweep.

A strong party is now mustered, headed probably by the brother of the

mother of the child. He is a stout chap, and carries a long tough

spear. A messenger is sent to the father, to say that the _taua muru_

is coming, and may be expected tomorrow, or the next day. He asks, "Is

it a great _taua_?" "Yes; it is a very great _taua_ indeed." The victim

smiles, he feels highly complimented; he _is_ then a man of

consequence. His child is also of great consideration; he is thought

worthy of a large force being sent to rob him! Now he sets all in

motion to prepare a huge feast for the friendly robbers, his relations.

He may as well be liberal, for his provisions are sure to go, whether

or no. Pigs are killed and baked whole, potatoes are piled up in great

heaps, all is made ready; he looks out his best spear, and keeps it

always ready in his hand. At last the _taua_ appears on a hill half a

mile off; then the whole fighting men of the section of the tribe of

which he is an important member, collect at his back, all armed with

spear and club, to show that they could resist, if they would: a thing,

however, not to be thought of under the circumstances.

On comes the _taua_. The mother begins to cry in proper form; the tribe

shout the call of welcome to the approaching robbers; and then with a

grand rush, all armed, and looking as if they intended to exterminate

all before them, the _kai muru_ appear on the scene. They dance the war

dance, which the villagers answer with another. Then the chief's

brother-in-law advances, spear in hand, with the most alarming

gestures. "Stand up!--stand up!--I will kill you this day," is his cry.

The defendant is not slow to answer the challenge. A most exciting, and

what to a new pakeha would appear a most desperately dangerous, fencing

bout with spears, instantly commences. The attack and defence are in

the highest degree scientific; the spear shafts keep up a continuous

rattle; the thrust, and parry, and stroke with the spear shaft follow

each other with almost incredible rapidity, and are too rapid to be

followed by an unpractised eye. At last the brother-in-law is slightly

touched; blood also drops from our chief's thigh. The fight instantly

ceases; leaning on their spears, probably a little badinage takes place

between them, and then the brother-in-law roars out, "_Murua! murua!

murua!_" Then the new arrivals commence a regular sack, and the two

principals sit down quietly with a few others for a friendly chat, in

which the child's name is never mentioned, or the inquiry as to whether

he is dead or alive even made.

The case I have just described would, however, be one of more than

ordinary importance; slighter "accidents and offences" would be atoned

for by a milder form of operation. But the general effect was to keep

personal property circulating from hand to hand pretty briskly, or

indeed to convert it into public property; for no man could say who

would be the owner of his canoe, or blanket, in a month's time. Indeed,

in that space of time, I once saw a nice coat, which a native had got

from the captain of a trading schooner, and which was an article much

coveted in those days, pass through the hands, and over the backs, of

six different owners, and return, considerably the worse for wear, to

the original purchaser; and all these transfers had been made by legal

process of _muru_. I have been often myself paid the compliment of

being robbed for little accidents occurring in my family, and have

several times also, from a feeling of politeness, robbed my Maori

friends; though I can't say I was a great gainer by these transactions.

I think the greatest haul I ever made was about half a bag of shot,

which I thought a famous joke, seeing that I had sold it the day before

to the owner for full value. A month after this I was disturbed early

in the morning, by a voice shouting "Get up!--get up! I will kill you

this day. You have roasted my grandfather. Get up!--_stand_ up!" I, of

course, guessed that I had committed some heinous though involuntary

offence, and the "stand up" hinted the immediate probable consequences;

so out I turned, spear in hand, and who should I see, armed with a

bayonet on the end of a long pole, but my friend the late owner of the

bag of shot. He came at me with pretended fury; made some smart bangs

and thrusts, which I parried, and then explained to me that I had

"cooked his grandfather;" and that if I did not come down handsome in

the way of damages, deeply as he might regret the necessity, his own

credit, and the law of _muru_, compelled him either to sack my house,

or die in the attempt. I was glad enough to prevent either event, by

paying him two whole bags of shot, two blankets, divers fish-hooks, and

certain figs of tobacco, which he demanded. I found that I had really

and truly committed a most horrid crime. I had on a journey made my

fire at the foot of a tree, in the top of which the bones of my

friend's grandfather had once been deposited, but from which they had

been removed ten years before. The tree caught fire and had burnt down:

and I, therefore, by a convenient sort of figure of speech, had

"roasted his grandfather," and had to pay the penalty accordingly.

It did not require much financial ability on my part, after a few

experiences of this nature, to perceive that I had better avail myself

of my privileges as a pakeha, and have nothing further to do with the

law of _muru_--a determination I have kept to strictly. If ever I have

unwittingly injured any of my neighbours, I have always made what I

considered just compensation, and resisted the _muru_ altogether: and I

will say this for my friends, that when any of them have done an

accidental piece of mischief, they have, in most cases without being

asked, offered to pay for it.

The above slight sketch of the penal law of New Zealand I present and

dedicate to the Law Lords of England; as it might, perhaps, afford some

hints for a reform in our own. The only remark I shall have to add is,

that if a man killed another, "malice prepense aforethought," the act,

in nineteen cases out of twenty, would be either a very meritorious

one, or of no consequence whatever; in either of which cases the penal

code had, of course, nothing to do in the matter. If, however, a man

killed another by _accident_, in the majority of cases the consequences

would be most serious; and not only the involuntary homicide, but every

one connected with him, would be plundered of everything they possessed

worth taking.

This, however, to an English lawyer, may require some explanation,

which is as follows:--If a man thought fit to kill his own slave, it

was nobody's affair but his own; the law had nothing to do with it. If

he killed a man of another tribe, he had nothing to do but declare it

was in revenge or retaliation for some aggression, either recent or

traditional, by the other tribe; of which examples were never scarce.

In this case, the action became at once highly meritorious, and his

whole tribe would support and defend him to the last extremity. If he,

however, killed a man by accident, the slain man would be, as a matter

of course, in most instances, one of his ordinary companions--_i.e._,

one of his own tribe. The accidental discharge of a gun often caused

death in this way. Then, indeed, the law of _muru_ had full swing, and

the wholesale plunder of the criminal and family was the penalty.

Murder, as the natives understood it: that is to say, the malicious

destruction of a man of _the same tribe_, did not happen so frequently

as might be expected; and when it did, went in most cases unpunished:

the murderer, in general, managed to escape to some other section of

the tribe where he had relations; who, as he fled to them for

protection, were bound to give it, and always ready to do so; or

otherwise he would stand his ground and defy all comers, by means of

the strength of his own family or section, who all would defend him and

protect him as a mere matter of course: and as the law of _utu_ or _lex

talionis_ was the only one which applied in this case, and as, unlike

the law of _muru_, nothing was to be got by enforcing it but hard

blows, murder in most cases went unpunished.

Old New Zealand: Being Incidents of Native Customs and Character in the Old Times · 第 7 / 15 章