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, which 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 was 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, and 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 furore 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; and 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 reigned 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

moveable property almost an impossibility, and to, in a great measure,

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; they 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, who 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 the spear. True, he is a famous spearman, 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

to-morrow, 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

umwhile 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 as frequently as might be

expected; and when it did, went in most cases unpunished; the murderer

in general managing 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.

[And so, in this day, when a Maori, for some real or fancied injury,

or as a means to elevate his name, kills some wretched white man, he

nearly always goes unpunished. The Government ask for him to be given

up, the tribe refuse, and there is an end of the matter.--Pembroke.]

Old New Zealand: A Tale of the Good Old Times And a History of the War in the North against the Chief Heke, in the Year 1845 · 第 7 / 16 章