New Zealand--Bay of Islands--Kororareka--Fences--Flag--Paihia
--Natives--Features--Tattow--Population--Colour--Manner--War-Canoes
--Prospects--Mackintosh--Fern--Church--Resident--Vines--Villages
--Houses--Planks--Cooking--Church--Marae--First Mission--Settlers
--Pomare--Marion--Cawa-Cawa--Meeting--Chiefs--Rats--Spirits--Wine
--Nets--Burial--Divine Service--Singing--Causes of Disturbances
--Reflections and Suggestions--Polynesian Interests--Resources for
Ships in the Pacific.
Dec. 21. At daylight we were about four miles from Cape Brett, and
nearly the same distance from Point Pococke; while in the north-west
the Cavalle islands showed themselves indistinctly. A light easterly
breeze enabled us to steer towards the Bay of Islands.--Few places
are easier of access than this bay: excepting the Whale-rock,
whose position is well ascertained, there are no hidden dangers:
and within the line of the heads, there is little or no current
deserving notice: outside that line, the current generally sets to
the south-east about a mile an hour.
Compared with mountainous countries, the northern parts of New
Zealand are not high; but they cannot be described as low land.
Perhaps the expression, ‘moderately high land,’ may convey an idea
of such as is more than two hundred, but less than twelve hundred
feet above the level of the sea; which are the limits I have in
view. In distant profile the land inclines too much to regular and
convex outlines to be picturesque. It is only along the sea-coast
that steep cliffs, and a more broken boundary, cause enough variety
to please the eye of a lover of landscape. Approaching nearer, the
interior of the country, varied by hill and valley, with an agreeable
mixture of woodland and cleared ground, makes a favourable impression
upon the mind, from the natural association of ideas of capability
and cultivation; but whether it pleases the eye, as a picture, must
depend probably as much upon the kind of scenery lately viewed, as
upon pre-conceived ideas. With us the recent impressions caused by
Otaheite, rendered the view of New Zealand, though novel, rather
uninteresting.
Cape Brett is a bold promontory, higher than any neighbouring land.
When first seen from a distant offing, while no other land is in
sight, it makes like a quoin-shaped island. As the sea around is free
from danger, it is an excellent landfall for shipping approaching
this part of the coast. Detached from, but near the cape, is the
rock, with a hole or archway through it, named by Cook, ‘Piercy
Islet.’
Point, or rather Cape Pococke, is a steep cliffy headland, of a dark
colour, rather picturesque in its appearance: near it there is a
conical rocky islet. Numerous islands, small and large, are scattered
over the bay; an expanse of water really about ten miles square,
though to the eye it appears much smaller, because so many islands
intercept the view.
Near the middle of the west side of the bay is the opening of
Kororareka Harbour, a secure but shallow port; better adapted to
merchant shipping than to the use of men-of-war.
After passing Cape Pococke, and advancing about a mile, a small
settlement appeared in the northern bight of the bay; and the English
look of the houses was very gratifying to us. This, I found, was
Tipuna, or Rangihoua, the place where the first settlement of white
men was made upon the shores of New Zealand. On the farther side
of Kororareka other houses were then seen--neat, and apparently
comfortable dwellings, well situated under the lee of the western
hills, while close by, on our right hand, a curious line of
flat-topped black rocks, a few feet only above the water, reminded us
of the remains of a great mole.
Within the line from Cape Pococke to Cape Brett there is not more
than thirty fathoms of water; and every where, excepting close to the
rocks, the bottom is soft and tenacious, so that an anchor may be let
go in any part. We saw small straggling villages of native huts in
many places, and around each of them a substantial fence of palisaded
posts and rails. These fences, and the cultivated spots of ground
which appear as you proceed up the bay, might give a more favourable
idea of the native habits than they yet deserve; for the fences are
fortifications--defences against intruding men, not cattle.
In a conspicuous solitary position, opposite to the entrance of
Kororareka harbour, a single English house, without another building
within a mile of it, nor any protection except that of a tall staff,
on which waved the British Union-jack, presented a contrast to
the fortified villages; and forcibly impressed one’s mind with a
conviction of the great influence already obtained over the formerly
wild cannibals of New Zealand.
The entrance to the harbour is narrow, even to the eye, but it is
still more confined by shoal water. In entering or leaving it, a ship
ought to keep close to Kororareka Point: after rounding that point,
at the distance of a cable’s length, the sheltered part of the port
is seen, looking like the mouth of a navigable river. On the western
side, the native village of Kororareka, a straggling collection
of low huts, strongly palisaded; on the eastern, three or four
English houses, the head-quarters of the missionaries; on the rising
ground, near the water, far up the harbour, several more houses and
villages--gave an appearance of population and successful exertion as
surprising as satisfactory. Near a detached house of European form,
a large white ensign excited our curiosity; and we found it was the
flag of New Zealand; differing only from the ensign of St. George in
the upper ‘canton,’ next the staff, where, instead of a Union-jack,
there is a red cross on a blue field; each quarter of the blue field
being ‘pierced’ by a white star.
We anchored between Kororareka and Paihia (the missionary
settlement): farther up the harbour were several whale-ships which
had anchored there, I was told, in order to avoid the spirit-shops of
Kororareka.
From this anchorage the view on all sides is pleasing. An appearance
of fertility every where meets the eye; but there are no grand or
very remarkable features. There is nothing in the outward character
of the country corresponding to the ferocious sanguinary disposition
of its aboriginal inhabitants. The British resident, some English
settlers, and two of the native chiefs came on board during the
afternoon; and in the evening I made acquaintance with Mr. Baker,
a missionary residing at Paihia. The resident’s boat was manned by
young Zealanders, whose smooth faces, cropped hair, Scotch caps, and
jackets and trowsers, were much approved of (perhaps hypocritically),
by a chief whose long war-canoe was well-manned by athletic
savages with half-naked figures, faces deeply-scarred--rather than
tattowed--and long curly hair.
We were amused by finding that the Beagle had been mistaken for a
ship of the (so called) Baron de Thierry. Her small size; the number
of boats; and her hoisting a white ensign (thought to be that of
New Zealand), so completely deceived them all, that one boat only
approached reluctantly, after we had anchored, to reconnoitre; but
as soon as it was known that the expected intruder had not arrived,
visitors hastened on board. Had he made such an experiment, he would
hardly have escaped with life, so inveterate and general was the
feeling then existing against his sinister and absurd attempt. He
would indeed have found himself in a nest of hornets.
In walking about the missionary establishment at Paihia, I was
disappointed by seeing the natives so dirty, and their huts looking
little better than pig-styes. Immediately round the dwellings of the
missionaries I expected a better state of things; but I was told,
that their numerous and increasing avocations engrossed all their
time; and that the native population were slow in adopting habits, or
even ideas, of cleanliness.
My first impression, upon seeing several New Zealanders in their
native dress and dirtiness was, that they were a race intermediate
between the Otaheitans and Fuegians; and I afterwards found that Mr.
Stokes and others saw many precise resemblances to the Fuegians,
while every one admitted their likeness to the Otaheitans. To me they
all seem to be one and the same race of men, altered by climate,
habits, and food; but descended from the same original stock.
Of a middle size, spare, but strong frame, and dark complexion,
the New Zealander’s outward appearance is much in his favour;
hardiness and activity, as may be expected, he eminently possesses.
The expression of his features indicates energy, quickness of
apprehension, without much reflection; and a high degree of daring.
Ferocity is a striking trait in the countenances of many among the
older men, and it is increased considerably by the savage style in
which their faces are disfigured, or, as they think, ornamented by
lines cut in the skin with a blunt-edged iron tool, and stained
black. These lines are certainly designed with as much taste, even
elegance, as could possibly be exerted in such disfiguring devices.
The expression which, it appears, is anxiously desired, is that of a
demon-warrior. All their old ideas seem to have had reference to war.
Well might the Spanish poet’s description of the Araucanians have
been applied to the New Zealanders in their former condition:--
“Venus y Amor aqui no alcanzan parte,
Solo domina el iracundo Marte!”
The lines upon the face are not, however, arbitrary marks, invented
or increased at the caprice of individuals, or the fancy of the
operator who inflicts the torture; they are heraldic ornaments,
distinctions far more intelligible to the natives of New Zealand than
our own armorial bearings are to many of us, in these unchivalric
days. Young men have but few: slaves, born in bondage, or taken
young, have scarcely any marks; but the older men, especially the
more distinguished chiefs, are so covered with them that the natural
expression of face is almost hidden under an ornamented mask. One
object of the tattowing, is to prevent change of features after
middle age. Some of the women, whom the missionaries endeavoured to
persuade not to follow this practice, said, “Let us have a few lines
on our lips, that they may not shrivel when we are old.”
Every one has heard of, and many people have seen the war-dance. What
exaggerated distortions of human features could be contrived more
horrible than those they then display? What approach to demons could
human beings make nearer than that which is made by the Zealanders
when infuriating, maddening themselves for battle by their dance of
death!
[Illustration:
_R. Fitz-Roy._
NATIVE OF KING GEORGE SOUND.
_R. Fitz-Roy._
NEW ZEALANDER.
A. Earle. T. Landseer.
NEW ZEALANDERS.
Published by Henry Colburn, Great Marlborough Street, 1838.]
The hair of a New Zealander is naturally luxuriant, though rather
coarse; its rough, free curliness in an unadorned, almost untouched
state, heightens that expression of untameable ferocity which is so
repulsive in the older men, especially in those of inferior degree.
Many of the young women are good-looking; and they dress their hair
with some pains, and not a little oil.
Although cannibalism and infanticide have ceased in the northern
parts of New Zealand, the aboriginal race is decreasing. The natives
say frequently, ‘The country is not for us; it is for the white men!’
and they often remark upon their lessening numbers. Change of habits,
European diseases, spirits, and the employment of many of their
finest young men in whale-ships (an occupation which unhappily tends
to their injury), combine to cause this diminution. Wearing more
clothes (especially thick blankets), exposes them to sudden colds,
which often end fatally. We were surprised at seeing almost every
native wrapped up in a thick blanket, perhaps even in two or three
blankets, while we were wearing thin clothing.
The countenances of some of the men (independent of the tattowing)
are handsome, according to European ideas of line beauty.
Regular, well-defined, and high features are often seen; but
they are exceptions, rather than the usual characteristics.
Generally speaking, the New Zealander has a retreating and narrow
forehead--rather wide, however, at the base; a very prominent brow;
deeply-sunk black eyes, small and ever restless; a small nose, rather
hollow, in most cases, though occasionally straight or even aquiline,
with full nostrils; the upper lip is short, but that and the lower
are thick; the mouth rather wide; white and much blunted teeth; with
a chin neither large nor small, but rather broad. Some have higher
and better heads, and a less marked expansion of brow, nostrils, and
lips; others, again, are the reverse: usually, their eyes are placed
horizontally; but some are inclined, like those of the Chinese,
though not remarkably; indeed not so much so as those of a Scotchman
whom I met there. Among the women I noticed a general depression of
the bridge of the nose, and a flat frontal region.
Few engravings, or paintings, show the real expression, features,
or even colour of the Polynesian tribes. They give us a half naked,
perhaps tattowed[1] man or woman; but the countenance almost always
proves the European habits of the artist. The features have a
European cast, quite different from the original, and the colouring
is generally unlike; especially in coloured engravings.
The general complexion of both women and men is a dark,
coppery-brown; but it varies from the lightest hue of copper to
a rich mahogany or chocolate, and in some cases almost to black.
The natural colour of the skin is much altered by paint, dirt, and
exposure. Before closing this slight description of the personal
appearance of the Zealanders, I must allude to the remarkable
shape of their teeth. In a white man the enamel usually covers all
the tooth, whether front or double; but the teeth of a man of New
Zealand are like those of the Fuegians, and at a first glance remind
one of those of a horse. Either they are all worn down--canine,
cutting-teeth, and grinders--to an uniform height, so that their
interior texture is quite exposed, or they are of a peculiar
structure.[2]
The New Zealanders’ salutation has often been talked of as ‘rubbing
noses,’ it is, in fact, touching, or crossing them; for one person
gently presses the bridge of his nose across that of his friend.
Mr. Darwin informed me that when a woman expects to be saluted by a
person of consequence, in the ‘nose pressing’ manner, she sits down
and makes a droll grunting noise, which is continued, at intervals,
until the salute has been given.
The usual manner of the native is very inferior. Accustomed to a
low, wretched dwelling, and to crouching in a canoe, his habitual
posture of rest is squatting on his hams, or upon the ground, with
his knees up to his chin; hence, also, his limbs are rather inferior
in their shape. But arouse his spirit, set him in motion, excite him
to action, and the crouching, indolent being is suddenly changed into
an active and animated demoniac. The Zealander is extremely proud; he
will not endure the slightest insult. A blow, even in jest, must be
returned!
Every one has seen or heard so much of their weapons and canoes, that
it is almost superfluous to speak of them; yet, in examining one of
their larger canoes--seventy feet in length, from three to four in
width, and about three in depth--I was much interested by observing
what trouble and pains had been taken in building and trying to
ornament this, to them, first-rate vessel of war. Her lower body was
formed out of the trunk of a single tree--the New Zealand kauri, or
cowrie--the upper works by planks of the same wood; the stem and
stern, raised and projecting, like those of the gallies of old, were
carved and hideously disfigured, rather than ornamented, by red,
distorted faces with protruding tongues and glaring mother-of-pearl
eyes. Much carving of an entirely different and rather tasteful
design[3] decorated the sides. Beneath the ‘thwarts,’ a wicker-work
platform, extending from end to end, served to confine the ballast to
its proper position, and to afford a place upon which the warriors
could stand to use their weapons. From forty to eighty men can embark
in such canoes. But their day is gone! In a few years, scarcely a
war-canoe will be found in the northern district of New Zealand.[4]
Judging only from description, the largest canoes ever seen by the
oldest of the present generation, must have been nearly ninety feet
in length; formed out of one tree, with planks attached to the sides,
about six or seven feet wide, and nearly as much in depth. Several
old men agreed, at different times, in this account; but perhaps each
of them was equally inclined to magnify the past.
New Zealand much requires assistance from the strong but humane
arm of a powerful European government. Sensible treaties should
be entered into by the head of an over-awing European force, and
maintained by the show, not physical action, of that force until the
natives see the wonderful effects of a changed system. Finding that
their protectors sought to ameliorate their condition, and abolish
all those practices which hunger, revenge, and ignorance probably
caused, and alone keep up; that they neither made them slaves, nor
took away land without fair purchase; and that they did no injury
to their country, or to them, except in self-defence--even then
reluctantly--would give the natives satisfaction and confidence,
and might, in a few years, make New Zealand a powerful, and very
productive country. I say powerful, because its inhabitants are very
numerous, and have in themselves abundant energy, with moral, as
well as physical materials; productive also, because the climate is
favourable; the soil very rich; timber plentiful, and very superior;
minerals are probably plentiful; flax is a staple article; corn and
vines are doing well; and sheep produce good wool.
While our thoughts are directed to the natives of New Zealand, let us
refer to what Sir James Mackintosh says of the former savages of our
own island.
“B.C. 54.--At the time of Cæsar’s landing, the island of Great
Britain was inhabited by a multitude of tribes, of whom the Romans
have preserved the names of more than forty. The number of such
tribes living in a lawless independence, is alone a sufficient proof
of their barbarism. Into the maritime provinces southward of the
Thames, colonies probably recent from Belgic Gaul began to introduce
tillage; they retained the names of their parent tribes on the
continent; they far surpassed the rest in the arts and manners of
civilized life. The inhabitants of the interior appear to have been
more rude and more fierce than any neighbouring people. The greater
part of them raised no corn; they subsisted on milk and flesh, and
were clothed in the skins of the beasts whom they destroyed for food.
They painted and punctured their bodies, that their aspect might
be more horrible in war. The use of carriages in war is a singular
instance of labour and skill among such a people. Their domestic life
was little above promiscuous intercourse. Societies of men, generally
composed of the nearest relations, had wives in common. The issue
of this intercourse were held to belong to the man (if such there
should be) who formed a separate and lasting connexion with their
mother. Where that appropriation did not occur, no man is described
as answerable for the care of the children.”
Again, Sir James says--
“The Britons had a government rather occasional than constant, in
which various political principles prevailed by turns. The power of
eloquence, of valour, of experience, sometimes of beauty, over a
multitude, for a time threw them into the appearance of a democracy.
When their humour led them to follow the council of their elders,
the community seemed to be aristocratic. The necessities of war,
and the popularity of a fortunate commander, vested in him in times
of peril a sort of monarchical power, limited by his own prudence,
and the patience of his followers, rather than by laws, or even
customs. Punishment sprung from revenge: it was sometimes inflicted
to avenge the wrongs of others. It is an abuse of terms to bestow
the name of a free government on such a state of society: men, in
such circumstances, lived without restraint; but they lived without
security. Human nature, in that state, is capable of occasional
flashes of the highest virtues. Men not only scorn danger, and
disregard privation, but even show rough sketches of ardent kindness,
of faithful gratitude, of the most generous self-devotion. But
the movements of their feelings are too irregular to be foreseen.
Ferocious anger may, in a moment, destroy the most tender affection.
Savages have no virtues on which it is possible to rely.”
Speaking of missionaries, the same historian states, that--
“Our scanty information relating to the earliest period of Saxon
rule, leaves it as dark as it is horrible. But Christianity brought
with it some mitigation. A.D. 596. The arrival of Augustine in Kent,
with forty other missionaries, sent by Gregory the Great to convert
the Saxons, is described in picturesque and affecting language by
Bede, the venerable historian of the Anglo-Saxon church. It cannot be
doubted that the appearance of men who exposed themselves to a cruel
death for the sake of teaching truth, and inspiring benevolence,
could not have been altogether without effect among the most
faithless and ruthless barbarians. Liberty of preaching what they
conscientiously believed to be Divine truth, was the only boon for
which they prayed.”
22d. On the little island of Paihia, where our instruments were
landed for observations, the remains of half-burned human bones were
found: and as the dead are not burned in this country, they must
have been the remains of a former meal. It was difficult to decide
upon the time which had elapsed since that feast was made, by the
appearance of the bones. They might have been covered by earth for
some time, and only lately exposed; or they might have been the
remains of a very modern feast, indulged in upon a little island to
which it was not probable that a missionary, or any one who might
give information to him, could approach unperceived.
We were much struck by the beautiful appearance of an evergreen tree,
resembling an ilex, or a large myrtle, when seen from a distance;
whose bright red flowers, in large clusters, upon the dark green
foliage, gave an effect which I longed to see transferred to an
English garden. This tree seemed to be common. After landing, the
fern attracted more notice than any other vegetable production: every
where in New Zealand this useful plant is found. Why useful? may be
thought. Because it was one principal article of food, before the
introduction of potatoes. Owing to its abundance, and to the edible,
as well as tolerably nutritious, nature of its roots, no man can ever
starve in New Zealand who is able to gather fern: but that it is not
a pleasant food may be inferred from the fact that no native eats
fern-roots when he can get potatoes. Where the fern grows thickly,
and high, the soil is known to be rich: where it is small, and
scarce, the land is not worth cultivating.[5]
Mr. Williams, the elder, formerly a lieutenant in the navy, was
absent on an exploring and negociating expedition to the southern
parts of the island. I much regretted having missed seeing him, as
he was considered the leading person among the missionary body in
New Zealand; and was said, by every one, to be thoroughly devoted to
the great cause, in which he was one of the first, and most daring.
I walked with Mr. Baker about the little village, or hamlet, of
Paihia. A substantial stone building I thought must be the church;
but was a good deal disappointed at being shown a small low edifice,
as the place of worship; and hearing that the large stone house
was the printing establishment. This I did not like; for I thought
of the effect produced on ignorant minds by the magnificence of
Roman Catholic churches. No doubt education overcomes superstitious
ideas and observances; and the devotion of an enlightened man is
not increased or diminished by the style, or by the decorations of
a building: in him probably no building made by hands would excite
such emotions as the starry temple of a cloudless sky. But ought
he, therefore, to despise, or think lightly of those outward forms,
and ceremonious observances, which influence ignorant people,
who see without thinking; and are too much guided by that which
makes a vivid impression. Would a little outward show do any harm
among such ignorant human beings as the savages of New Zealand; or
among Fuegians, and New Hollanders? And may one not expect that
an intelligent native should notice that the ‘House of God’ is in
every respect inferior to the other houses which they see erected by
Christians?
Paihia is a pretty spot. The harbour of Kororareka lies in front;
and an amphitheatre of verdant hills forms the back ground. But it
must be hot during the summer, as it is in a hollow, facing the
sun. A visit to Mr. J. Busby, the ‘British Resident,’ at his house
(protected by the flag, as I have already mentioned) occupied Mr.
Darwin and myself some time. Like most of the missionary dwellings,
it is a temporary boarded cottage, intended only for present
purposes. Mr. Busby was taking great pains with his garden; and
among other plants he anticipated that vines would flourish. Those
at Waitangi (the name of his place) are favoured by climate, as well
as by the superintendance of a person who so thoroughly understands
their culture. At a future day not only New Zealand, but Van Diemen’s
Land, and all New Holland, will acknowledge the obligation conferred
upon them by this gentleman, who made a long and troublesome journey
through France and Spain solely for the purpose of collecting vines
for Australia, his adopted country.
Mr. Busby’s official occupations at New Zealand appeared to me of
a very neutral character. An isolated individual, not having even
the authority of a magistrate, encircled by savages, and by a most
troublesome class of his own countrymen, I was not astonished at his
anxiety to receive definite instructions, and substantial support; or
at the numerous complaints continually made by the English settlers.
Afterwards we went to Kororareka. On a sandy level, narrowly bounded
by a low range of hills, or rather rising grounds, stands the
principal assemblage of houses in the island; or as the missionaries
say, ‘in the land’. I have said assemblage of houses, because it did
not agree with my ideas of a town, a village, a hamlet, or even an
Indian encampment. Near the beach were a few small cottages which had
once been white-washed. At the foot of the hills were two or three
small houses of European build; but the remaining space of ground
appeared to be covered by palings, and pig-styes. The temporary
enclosures which are made in a market-place, for cattle, might give
an idea of the appearance of these sadly wretched dwelling places.
The palings, or palisades, are intended to be fortifications: they
are high, sometimes eight or ten feet; and, almost encircling the
whole, a stronger palisade is fixed, but so inefficiently that either
strength, an axe, or fire, would ensure an entrance to resolute
men. There is neither embankment nor ditch. Within the small square
spaces, enclosed by the slighter palings, are the huts of the
natives: the angular, low thatched roofs of which are scarcely set
off from the ground by walls a foot or two in height. These roofs
slope downwards, lengthwise as well as sideways; so that the front
of the hut is the highest part. The upper point of the roof may be
eight feet from the ground; the space of ground occupied, about ten
square feet; seldom more, indeed usually less. Besides the door,
through which a man cannot pass excepting upon his hands and knees,
there is neither window, nor aperture of any kind. The New Zealand
‘order of architecture,’ is marked by two wide planks placed edgeways
in front, joined together at the top by nails or pegs, and forming a
wide angle, in which the space is filled up, excepting a door-way two
feet square, with materials similar to those of the walls and roof,
namely wicker work, or ‘wattling,’ covered by a thatching of broad
flag leaves or rushes. The eaves of the roof project two or three
feet beyond the front; so likewise do the side walls. In this sort
of porch the family sit, eat, and, in the day-time, often sleep. At
night most of them huddle together, within what, in every respect,
deserves the name of a sty: even a Fuegian wigwam is far preferable,
for as that is frequently left vacant during many successive weeks,
heavy rains and a cold climate are antidotes to any particular
accumulation of dirt. In a fine climate, surrounded by beautiful
trees and luxuriant herbage, can one account for human nature
degrading itself so much as to live in such a den? Is it not that the
genuine, simple beauties of Creation are understood, and enjoyed,
only in proportion as man becomes more refined, and as he differs
more from his own species in what is falsely called a state of nature.
I was inquisitive about the large planks, generally painted red,
which appeared in front of every house. The natives told me that
such boards had always been made by their ancestors, before tools
of any metal were seen in the land: they were from twelve to twenty
feet in length, about two feet in breadth, and two inches thick: and
they seemed to have been ‘dubbed’ down to a fair surface; but I
am inclined to think that the wood is of a kind that splits easily
into plank, like the alerse of southern Chile.[6] Being the evening
meal time, some women, and male slaves, were removing the cinders
from holes in the earth, whence steam was issuing profusely, under
a shed, near the house I was examining. The shed was a light roof,
upon upright poles, covering the cooking place--a few square yards
of cinder-covered ground. Out of each hole dirty looking bunches
of fish and leaves were raked with fingers and sticks. Hot stones
were at the bottom of the hole, placed in the usual Polynesian and
Chilote method. The fish had been wrapped in the leaves, but taking
it out of the oven in such a manner had displaced the leaves, and
substituted a coating of ashes and cinders. Potatoes, raked out of
another hot hole, looked more eatable: but leaving the natives to
their dirty food, we walked to the new church. A slightly built
edifice of bricks, and light frame work, with an abundance of bad
glass windows, gave me the idea of a small methodist meeting-house,
or an anabaptist chapel, rather than an episcopal church. A good
deal of money having been subscribed by residents, and visitors,
specially for this church, it might be wished that a portion of it
had been employed in obtaining a better design, and better materials,
as it stands in a very conspicuous situation. To place a church in a
stronghold of iniquity, such as Kororareka, the resort of the worst
disposed inhabitants of New Zealand, native and foreign, was a daring
experiment: yet notwithstanding the ill-will entertained towards the
missionaries, by their ‘spirit-selling’ countrymen; by native chiefs,
whose pandering trade was yearly lessened; and by the evil disposed
of every description, no molestation had been offered, and not a
plane of glass had been broken! neither had the church service been
performed in vain to inattentive hearers.
Returning to the beach, we saw some of the fine canoes I have already
mentioned: we then paid a formal visit to one of the chiefs; and
for another, who was not at home, I thought I could not do better
than leave a present: his wife, or rather one of his wives, was
pointed out to us, as the sister of the notorious Shunghi. ‘Titore’
was the absent chief’s name. He was out in the country, with a
hundred well-armed followers, cultivating, as we were told, his yam
and potato grounds. We next saw a burying place, or rather a place
where the dead are exposed, upon a raised platform, to the wind
and sun. Wrapped in cloth of the country, the bodies are placed
upon small square platforms of boards, which are fixed upon single
central posts, ten feet high. Bushes were growing, unmolested, in
the enclosure (or ‘Marae’), no foot entering to tread them down.
Among these thickets I saw several large boards standing upright like
gravestones, some of which were painted red, and uncouthly carved.
Returning to our boat, the chief whom we had visited presented me
with a garment of the country manufacture: his assumed haughtiness
was amusing, from being characteristic. Our evening was passed in
very interesting conversation with Mr. W. Williams, and Mr. Baker;[7]
the former had just arrived from Waimate, an agricultural settlement,
lately established by the missionaries, in the interior.
Of the difficulties encountered and surmounted by the first
missionaries in New Zealand full accounts have been lately published:
the little we then heard strongly excited our curiosity. Mr. Marsden
appeared to have been the originator, as well as the main instrument,
in forwarding the great work.
On the 23d, I went with Mr. Baker to Tipuna, the place where the
first missionaries, Mr. King and Mr. Kendal, established themselves
in 1813. Mr. King was absent, but I saw his wife and son, who told
me that he was travelling about among the natives, and would not
return for several days; he was on horseback, his son said, but quite
alone. Mrs. King described the former state of things which she had
witnessed herself in strong terms; she could not look back to those
days without shuddering. Being told in the evening, that “before
morning their house would be in flames;” and that “stones were
heating for the oven in which they themselves were to be cooked,”
was a quieting farewell, from a mob of angry natives, on more than
one occasion. But Mr. King always found a trusty friend in a chief,
whose name has been often noticed--‘Waripoaka.’ I met him near the
house, in company with a young chief, whose sense of propriety was
so delicate that he would not appear before Mrs. King, because he
was not dressed ‘well enough!’ Waripoaka was satisfied with his own
attire, and went with us. To my prejudiced eye, the dress of the
young man, a mat, or mantle of the country, loosely wrapped around
a fine figure, appeared far more suitable than the long-tailed
old coat, thread-bare pantaloons, and worn-out hat, which utterly
disguised and disfigured the old chief.
Mr. King’s son talked of his sheep, and I found that though not more
than eighteen or twenty, he was already a farmer, possessing land
and a flock of sheep. Returning by a different route, we landed upon
an island lately bought from the natives by two persons who had been
masters of whale-ships.
This island, purchased for a trifling price, will become very
valuable, as the trade to the Bay of Islands increases; and I
regretted to see a spot of such future consequence in the hands
of men, whose verbal attacks upon the missionaries, and illiberal
aspersions of Mr. Busby’s character, disgusted me so much that I had
hardly patience to make the inquiries which were the object of my
visit; or to wait while Mr. Baker told them of a plan which was in
contemplation among the settlers, for the prevention, or at least
restriction, of the sale of spirits.
Such men as these, strongly prejudiced, deaf to reason, and too
often habitually vicious; run-away convicts, whose characters may
be imagined; and democratic seceders from regular government, cause
the principal difficulties against which honest, upright settlers,
and the whole missionary body, have to contend. One of the men,
whose share in the property of the island I have been regretting,
was partly intoxicated while we were with him; but Waripoaka, who
accompanied us, significantly warned me of his state as I entered the
house.
24th. I went with Mr. Baker to a scattered village, called Cawa-cawa.
Leaving the ship early, we followed the windings of an estuary
which forms Kororareka Harbour, until its shores contracted it to
the limits of a fresh-water river. Three good houses on the eastern
shore, lately built by respectable English settlers, attracted
our notice in passing: and afterwards the ‘Pah’[8] of Pomare,[9]
a well-known chief, appeared like a cattle-enclosure upon a hill.
Pomare is the man who killed and ate a part of his female slave,
when Mr. Earle was there; he has still large possessions, and had
larger, but has sold much for ammunition, muskets, and spirits. His
honourable office at this time was that of supplying the numerous
whale-ships which visited the harbour with his slaves; and he found
such an employment of his female vassals answer better than the
horrible one well described by Mr. Earle. Dismal alternative! On
board each of the ships we passed there were many of these women; but
before we notice the ‘mote,’ let us consider the great ‘beam,’--think
of what our own sea-ports were in times of war, and be charitable to
the South Sea Islanders.
Pomare was heard to say that his son would be a greater man than
himself: and the New Zealanders in general are impressed with the
idea that their sons will be better, or greater men, than themselves.
The estuary, or arm of the sea, whose windings we were following,
forms an excellent harbour for ships not larger than third-class
frigates; or to speak in a more definite manner, for those which do
not draw more than seventeen feet of water. On each side the land
rises to five or six hundred feet, sheltering the anchorage without
occasioning those violent squalls alternating with calms, that are
found under the lee of very high land, over which strong wind is
blowing. As far as I know, there are very few shoals or banks in the
wide space which forms the inner harbour. A slight stream of current
and tide runs outwards during about seven hours, and the tide sets
inwards about five, though with still less strength. At times, the
outward stream may run about two knots in the narrow places. Mr.
Mair’s house and shipping-yard, Mr. Clendon’s establishment, and the
pleasantly-situated house and garden of Mr. Wright gave an English
aspect to the eastern side of the harbour; while boats passing and
ships lying at anchor in an estuary, much resembling one in our own
country, prevented the frequent occurrence of a thought, that we
were near the Antipodes; and that on the western side of the harbour
is the place where ‘Marion’ and so many of his crew were massacred,
and afterwards eaten! That horrid catastrophe is now said to have
been caused by mutual ignorance of language. The Frenchmen not
understanding that the spot was tabooed, persisted in fishing there,
and endeavoured to maintain their intrusion by force.
Canoes met and passed us as we proceeded. It was pleasant to witness
the cordial greetings exchanged between most of their occupants and
Mr. Baker. All these canoes were going to Kororareka, to sell their
cargoes of firewood, potatoes, yams, or pigs. Here and there, by the
water-side, we saw a house, or rather hut, with a patch of cleared
and cultivated ground, a great pile of firewood, ready for sale,
and perhaps a canoe close by, which the native owners were loading
with the marketable produce of their land. When the estuary had
diminished, and we found ourselves in a fresh-water river, there was
much resemblance to parts of the river at Valdivia; but the amount
of ground under cultivation, and the number of huts scattered over
the face of the country and along the banks of the river, were less
near Valdivia, exclusive of the town itself, than in this so lately a
cannibal country.
Though on a small scale, the banks of this river are interesting and
picturesque. On each side, the soil is extremely good on the low
grounds, and the hills are well clothed with wood: they are not high,
but approach the river rather closely in some places, so that the
winding stream, spaces of level and partially cultivated land, and
woody heights, are agreeably mingled, and formed a rapidly varying
view as we proceeded.
Mr. Baker had been urged by the natives of Cawa-cawa to visit
them, and endeavour to settle a dispute which had arisen with a
neighbouring village, or rather tribe. He also wished to gain more
advocates for the abolition of spirits; and I was glad to profit by
the opportunity of seeing a little of the natives and their habits,
in a place said to be Christianized, and uncontaminated by the
spirit-sellers.
A few of our own countrymen were employing themselves as sawyers, on
the banks of the river, near the village of Cawa-cawa; but neither
their huts, their mode of living, nor their outward appearance,
caused any feeling of good-will towards them on my part.
Having ascended the stream, as far as the boat could go, which was
about four miles from the salt-water, we landed, and walked towards
the village of Cawa-cawa, escorted by several elderly and a mob of
young natives. Our way led through open underwood, maize-grounds, and
damp swampy soil, in which I saw plenty of the plant called ‘flax,’
supposed, a few years since, to be very valuable, and now probably
much undervalued. Across a stream the natives seemed delighted to
carry us; indeed, I may say once for all, that at this village their
whole behaviour was affable, friendly, and open, to a degree nearly
approaching that of the merry Otaheitans.
Under the shade of a large tree, the inhabitants of the
widely-scattered huts soon assembled. For me they brought a chair
out of a cottage; but for themselves their native soil offered
a sufficient place of rest. In all positions, half-enveloped in
blankets or coarse country mattings, with their rough, curly hair
protecting their heads from the sun’s rays, and almost shading their
tattowed faces, about a hundred men, women, and children surrounded
their apparently most welcome friend ‘Payka,’ as they called Mr.
Baker. Many fine forms and most expressive countenances were there.
Such heads, indeed I may say, such a group for a painter! I had
sufficient leisure to admire them; for it is etiquette in New Zealand
to sit in silence during some minutes, previous to commencing any
conversation. Engrossed by the fine, the grand heads of some of
the old warriors, whose amply tattowed features had withstood the
ravages of time more successfully than their once dark hair, and
by the graceful figures of the younger women, I was sorry when the
ceremonial silence was ended. By turns the principal men discussed
with Mr. Baker (whose speaking appeared to be to the purpose, as well
as fluent), the business for which they had assembled.
I could understand few words used, but the gestures of the natives
were sufficiently expressive to give a general idea of their meaning.
Mr. Baker’s interpretation to me afterwards was to this effect:--“A
neighbouring tribe has encroached upon the district which this tribe
claim as hereditary property. These men prove their right to it by
bringing forward several of their elders, who have at various times
killed and eaten ‘rats’ upon it.”
In other days, the war-club and the patoo-patoo--a sanguinary contest
to determine whose should be the land and whose bodies should fill
the ovens--would have been the unfailing mode of decision. “What
would Mr. Baker recommend them to do, now that they had become
Christians?” was their question. He recommended arbitration, each
party to choose a ‘wise man;’ and if the two wise men disagreed, they
should refer the question to the deliberation of the missionaries,
at their next general meeting. He also promised to visit the other
tribe, enquire into the case, and exert himself for the sake of both
parties, who were equally his friends, and whose interest, as well as
duty, it was to remain at peace.
By temporising, talking to each party, and inducing one to meet the
other half way, Mr. Baker had no doubt of amicably arranging the
affair.[10] Is it not extremely gratifying to find the missionaries
thus appealed to, and acting as mediators and peace-makers?
The singular reason for laying claim to this land, appears
less extraordinary when explained. Formerly there were no wild
quadrupeds, excepting rats, upon New Zealand: and while so destitute
of animal food, a rat was considered ‘game’ by the natives; and
no man would attempt to kill his neighbour’s rats, or those which
were found on his territory, without intending, or declaring war
against him. Had not the rats, eaten by the older men of Cawa-cawa,
belonged to them, the lawful or understood owners of the rats would
long since have made war upon the people of Cawa-cawa. Rats having
been there killed, and war not having been consequently declared,
were irresistible arguments in the minds of those men, who never
forgot, and who knew not how to forgive an injury.[11] Some of us are
apt to think modern game laws harsh inventions, and the result of
civilization. Yet if, in our own history, we look back seven hundred
years, we find that human lives were then forfeited for those of
beasts of the chase: and if we look at this country, which may be
supposed two thousand years behind our own, in point of civilization,
we find, that to kill a rat upon a neighbour’s land, is an offence
almost sufficient to cause a general war.
The precise manner in which territory is divided among these savages
surprised me not a little: I thought land was but slightly valued
by them. Though sold to Europeans for what we consider trifles, the
sale is, to them, matter of high importance, in which every free
man of the tribe ought to be consulted. Uncleared land is supposed
to belong to the tribe, collectively. Cultivated spots, and houses,
are private property, but cannot be sold, or given away, out of the
tribe, without the consent of the whole community. This division
of land among small tribes,[12] looks much like a comparatively
late appropriation of the country. To make a purchase of land in
New Zealand, in a manner which will ensure quiet and unquestioned
possession, it is necessary to assemble all the tribe of owners,
or as many as can come; a few absentees, of little consequence,
not being thought about. The goods intended to be given, as an
equivalent for the land, are then spread out for inspection; and if
the contracting parties agree, their word is given, and their marks
are perhaps put to a deed which they cannot read,[13] but whose
purport they are told. The goods are forthwith carried away; each man
appropriates what he chooses, and it often happens that the chief men
of the tribe receive the smallest portion of the purchase goods.
One, among many objections alleged against the purchase of land,
said to have been made by de Thierry, was, that he could not have
bought land in New Zealand, while absent, because, in order to make
a purchase valid, it is necessary to buy from the tribe, not from
individuals.
Mr. Stokes was informed that when a tribe is utterly vanquished, the
conqueror generously gives the survivors a grant of land, and even
slaves. I do not see how to reconcile this act of generosity with
the blood-thirsty warfare which has usually ended in indiscriminate
slaughter, and cannibal feasts.
Satisfied, for the time, on the principal subject:--the much
desired abolition of the use and importation of ardent spirits,
was discussed. An old man, named ‘Noah,’ spoke to the tribe; and
after alluding to the disgraceful and unfortunate events, caused by
drinking, which had happened to their friends, and to neighbouring
tribes, since the white men had introduced the vice of intoxication,
old Noah ended a short but eloquent harangue, by saying, “expel the
liquid fire.” Noah is a Christian: his name was his own choice,
when baptized, some years ago. The principal men, eight in number,
signed, or made marks upon the paper, which contained the resolutions
agreed to by acclamation. Noah wrote his name in a distinct hand:
each of the others made marks resembling a small part of the tattowed
lines upon their faces. One man imitated the mark upon the side of
his nose; another that near his eye. Baked potatoes were afterwards
brought to us; and a curious wine, of which I had not heard. It was
dark coloured, and not unlike good elderberry wine. It is made from
the small currant-like fruit of a shrub, which the settlers call
‘native vine;’ but the resemblance to a vine is about as evident as
that of a common elderberry bush. The fruit grows in clusters, much
like small elderberries in appearance, but it contains stony kernels,
which are said to be unwholesome, if not poisonous. Women collect
the juice by squeezing the bunches of fruit with their hands. I have
heard that it is used after fermentation as well as in its pure juicy
state, but some assert the contrary: it might then assuredly cause
intoxication; I doubt, however, their often obtaining, or keeping, a
sufficient quantity. It dyes the hands of the women and children who
collect the juice, so deeply, that they cannot efface the stain for
many days afterwards.
Instead of rubbing, or rather pressing, noses, these people have
adopted the custom of shaking hands: everyone expects to have a
shake. Yet with all their asserted equality, and democratic ideas,
there must be a considerable distinction of rank, and difference
of occupation, among them; for I particularly noticed that two
chief persons of this tribe, who rather resembled the higher class
at Otaheite, had far less swarthy complexions, and less hardened
extremities, than the others: one of them, considered by Mr. Baker
to be the head of the tribe, was more like an Otaheitan ‘Eri,’ and
less like the ordinary New Zealanders than any other native I saw,
while at their island. From the meeting place under the large tree,
we went to see a chapel which the natives were building, by their own
free will and labour; and in our way we passed through yam and potato
grounds, so neatly kept, that no gardener need have hesitated to
commend them.[14] The intended chapel was a lightly framed building
of wood, with a thatched roof. The natives seemed to be very proud
of it, and were much gratified by our praises. Some large oxen, in a
pen, were feeding on young branches, and leaves of trees, gathered
for them by the natives, which they appeared to relish as much as
hay: they were called ‘booa-cow.’[15]
At the door of a house, or rather in the porch (before described),
I saw a woman reading: she was sick, Mr. Baker told me, one of a
long list of invalids, who frequently applied to the missionaries
for advice and medicine. I looked at her book, it was the Gospel of
St. Matthew, printed at Paihia, in the New Zealand language. Now,
certainly, there was neither constraint, nor any thing savouring
of outward show, in this woman’s occupation, for my seeing her was
sudden, and quite accidental, arising from my going out of the
usual path to look at the oxen. Mr. Baker told me, that one of the
most troublesome, though not the least gratifying duties, of the
missionaries, was that of attempting to act as medical men. No
regularly educated practitioner having at that time established
himself in the land, every complaint was entrusted to the kind
attention, and good will, but slight medical knowledge of the
missionaries. We saw several nets for fishing placed in separate
heaps, each upon a small platform, at the top of a post eight or ten
feet in height: in a similar manner yams and potatoes are preserved
from the rotting influence of the damp earth. The nets are made with
the split leaves of the ‘flax’ plant, not merely with the fibres, and
last for many years: both they and the food, thus exposed to the air,
are thatched, like the houses, with the broad leaves of an iris-like
rush, or flag, which grows abundantly by the river sides, and in
marshy places. I was here informed, that after the bodies of the dead
(which are exposed to the air, on platforms similar to those I have
just mentioned), are thoroughly dried, the bones are carried away,
and deposited in a secret burying place.
25th. Being Christmas-day, several of our party attended Divine
service at Paihia, where Mr. Baker officiated. Very few natives were
present; but all the respectable part of the English community had
assembled. Instead of performing the whole service first in one
language, and afterwards in the other, as at Otaheite, the two entire
services were mixed, and the whole extended to such a length that had
even the most eloquent divine occupied the pulpit, his hearers could
scarcely have helped feeling fatigued. Mr. Baker appeared to be more
fluent in the language of New Zealand, than in his own, a fortunate
circumstance for the natives, though not for the English who attend
his church. In the mere glimpse which I had of the missionary body
at New Zealand, it appeared to me that they rather undervalued their
white congregations. They say, “We are sent to the heathen, it is
to their improvement that every effort should be directed.” “This
is true,” may be replied; “but does not the example of respectable
settlers, or visitors, assist the influence of missionaries?” Would
not the natives take notice if foreigners whom they see in the land
refused, generally speaking, to conform in their habits and conduct,
to the principles so earnestly insisted upon by the missionaries? But
unless Divine service is performed in a manner which will, at the
very least, increase respect for it, and give rise to no feelings of
slight towards those who, from the nature of their highly responsible
office, are expected to perform it tolerably well--it does not seem
likely that such as are only sojourners in the land, will be seen
at the church as often as might be desirable; thus a part of their
example, so beneficial to the great cause, will perhaps be lost.
A very correct musical ear seems to be as general among the people
here, as among those of Otaheite. The responses of thirty natives,
women and men, were made so simultaneously, and so perfectly in
harmony, that I could no more distinguish the different voices, than
I could those of a number of good choristers singing together. Their
singing was equally melodious, yet neither I nor others were disposed
to think it equal to that of Otaheite.
26th. Disputes between masters of whale ships and their crews, and
between both these classes and the New Zealanders, obliged me to
meddle, though very reluctantly, in their affairs. To show what
anarchy has been caused in this country, by the partial, half
measures, which have been taken, I will try to describe the state of
things, at the Bay of Islands, as we found them.
I will not attempt to give the slightest sketch of events which had
occurred anterior to the Beagle’s visit, full and authentic details
being accessible in other publications; farther than to say that the
rumoured approach of de Thierry had stimulated Mr. Busby (holding
the undefined office of British resident) to take measures adverse
to such foreign intruders, by issuing a public announcement,[16]
and by calling together the principal chiefs of tribes inhabiting
the districts of New Zealand, north of the Thames, with a view of
urging them to frame a sort of constitution,[17] which should have
a steadying influence over their unwieldy democracy, and leave them
less exposed to foreign intrusion.
Thus much had been done by words and on paper; the chiefs had
departed, each to his perhaps distant home, and the efficiency of
their authority, in a ‘collective capacity’ was yet to be discovered.
No ‘executive’ had been organized; the former authorities--each chief
in his own territory--hesitated to act as they had been accustomed,
owing to a vague mystification of ideas, and uncertainty as to what
they really had agreed upon, while the authority of Mr. Busby was
absolutely nothing, not even that of a magistrate among his own
countrymen; so of course he could have no power over the natives.
To whom then were the daily squabbles of so mixed and turbulent a
population, as that of the Bay of Islands and its vicinity, to be
referred?
Late events had impressed the natives with such a high idea of King
William’s men-of-war, that even the little Beagle was respected by
them, and, in consequence, appeals were made to me--by natives, by
men of the United States of America, and by British subjects; but,
not then aware of the peculiarity of Mr. Busby’s position, I referred
them to him, under the idea that his office was of a consular nature,
and therefore that I ought not to act in these cases, excepting as
his supporter. Finding him unwilling to take any steps of an active
kind, not deeming himself authorised to do so: and the aggrieved
parties still asking for assistance, I referred them to the only
real, though not nominal, authority, in the place, that of the
missionaries. By the active assistance of Mr. Baker, the more serious
quarrels were ended without bloodshed, and those of a more trifling
nature, in which the natives were not concerned, were temporarily
settled: but I doubt not that in a few days afterwards anarchy again
prevailed.
To give an idea of the nature of some of these quarrels, and of the
serious consequences they might entail, I will describe briefly two
or three cases which were referred to me.
Pomare had been beaten while on board a whale ship, by some of her
crew. No New Zealander will submit to be struck, but thus to treat
a chief is unpardonable. Burning with indignation he maltreated the
first Englishman whom he met on shore, and was concerting serious
measures of revenge, when the master of the ship, and a number of his
men, came to ask for assistance and protection.
Again; a chief, whose name I do not know, had been refused admittance
on board a whale ship, where he had heard that one of his female
slaves was living. He did not wish to injure her, or even take her
away. His only motive, in asking admittance, was to satisfy himself
that she was there. Highly affronted at the refusal, he spoke to me,
(as he said) previously to collecting his warriors and attacking the
ship.
Another case was unconnected with the natives, but tended to expose
a fraudulent system, and to show the necessity of arming British
authorities, in distant parts of the world, with a definite degree
of control over the licentious, or ill-disposed portion of their
own countrymen, who, in those remote regions, are disproportionably
numerous, and now able to do pretty much what they please.
A person who stated himself to be the master of an English whaler,
lying in the harbour, came on board the Beagle, accompanied by a man
said to be the third mate. The former complained of the mutinous
state of his crew, who had ill treated this third mate, and then
refused to work or obey any orders. Inquiry on board the whaler,
showed that the crew had been ill-used, especially as to provisions:
and that not only the nominal master, but the chief as well as
the second mate were North Americans, (U.S.) The legal master, it
appeared, was the so-called third mate, an Englishman. His name
appeared in the ship’s papers as master; that of the person who
had been acting as master did not appear at all. But the acting
master, who before me styled himself ‘supercargo,’ produced a power
of attorney from the owners of the vessel,[18] which appeared to
authorise him to control the proceedings of the vessel, as he
thought proper; to displace the master and appoint another person
in his stead, and in every way to act for the owners, as if he,
the American, were sole owner. Nearly all the seamen were British
subjects. How far his power of attorney might carry weight against
the spirit and intent of the navigation laws, I had much doubt;
but as it appeared to me that the owners in such cases, ought to
know their own interest better than other persons could; and that
in suiting their own interest they certainly would add their mite
towards the general interest of their country; and as the supercargo
had a circular letter from the Commander-in-chief on the West-India
and North American station, asking for the assistance of any King’s
ship he might meet (with the view of encouraging the whale fishery
out of Halifax); I refrained from doing what my first impulse
prompted--putting an officer on board, and sending the ship to the
nearest port (Sydney), in which correctly legal measures might be
adopted, if necessary. Meanwhile as the British resident did not
think himself authorised to interfere, and disorder, with ‘club-law,’
were prevailing and likely to continue, in the Rose, I went on board,
accompanied by Lieutenant Sulivan and Mr. Bynoe. After examining
the provisions and all the ship’s papers, I spoke to the crew (every
man of whom wished to leave the vessel) and to the nominal master;
obtained an assurance, in their hearing, that their future allowance
of provisions should be unobjectionable, and, for the time, restored
order. But I felt that the calm was unlikely to last, and two days
afterwards fresh appeals were made, to which I could not attend,
being in the act of leaving the port.[19]
The laws which regulate our merchant shipping, especially sealers
and whalers, do not appear to extend a sufficient influence over the
numerous vessels, which, with their often turbulent inmates, now
range over the vast Pacific. For many years past, Great Britain and
the United States have annually sent hundreds of large whale ships
into the Pacific: during late years, Sydney has sent forth her ships,
amounting at present in number to more than sixty, most of which are
employed in whaling or trading in the Pacific: and be it remembered
that their crews are not the most select seamen--the nature of many
of them may easily be imagined--yet in all this immense expanse of
ocean, little or no restraint except that of masters of vessels,
on board their own ships, is imposed either upon Americans or
British subjects! There is the nominal authority of a consul at
the Sandwich, and Society Islands: and occasionally a man-of-war
is seen at the least uncivilized places. But how inefficient is so
widely separated, and so nominal a control? When ships of war visit
the less frequented parts of the Pacific, they are too much in the
dark, as to the state of things, to be able to effect a tenth part
of what might be done, in equal time, by a ship employed solely on
that ocean. In so peculiar a portion of the world as Polynesia, it
takes some time to learn what has been taking place: and what ship
of war has stayed long enough for her captain to lose the sensation
of inexperience--which must embarrass him if called upon to decide
and act, in cases where he really is about the most ignorant person
(as regards the special case) of any one concerned with it? In
consequence of that ignorance, he must inevitably be more or less
guided by the advice of parties, of whose individual interest in the
matter so short an acquaintance cannot give him a proper idea.
A great deal of prudence, and good management, is required in the
commander of a man-of-war, who has any business of consequence to
transact with the natives of Polynesia, or who has to deal with
his own countrymen in that distant region. A single ship, assisted
perhaps by tenders, might, if well commanded, do more good in a
few years among the islands of the Pacific, than can now easily be
imagined. But then she must be stationary; not that she should remain
in one place--far from it--her wings should seldom rest; I mean only
that she should stay in the Pacific during three or four years. In
that time so much information might be gained, and so much diffused
among the natives; such a system of vigilant inspection might be
established, and so much respect for, and confidence in the British
nation, be secured--that our future intercourse with Polynesia would,
for a length of time, be rendered easier and infinitely more secure,
as well as creditable.
The few ships of war which have remained during any length of time
among the islands, have been occupied by exploring and surveying, to
an extent that has interfered with the earnest consideration of other
matters. But in a ship, employed as I have described, a surveyor
might be embarked, who would have ample opportunities of increasing
our knowledge of that ocean. And if a sensible man, whose natural
ability had been improved by an education unattainable by sailors,
could be tempted to bear the trials and losses of a long sea voyage,
in a busily employed ship, how much might Science profit by the
labours of three or four such years?
Having thus entered freely into ideas which I have so often dwelt
upon that they are become familiar, I will venture to suggest the
kind of ship which would do most, in my humble opinion, at the least
ultimate expense consistent with efficiency. Moral influence over the
minds of natives, as well as over wanderers from our own or other
countries, is a primary object, and that influence might be at once
obtained by the mere presence of a large ship.
Compare the manner in which the natives of the Marquesas behaved to
the Tagus and Briton frigates, with their hostility to vessels whose
appearance did not overawe them. An outward show of overpowering
force would often prevent a struggle, and probably loss of life,
which, however justifiable, cannot too anxiously be avoided. From
what I have seen and heard, I feel authorised to say that one ship of
force, well-manned, and judiciously commanded, would effect more real
good in the Pacific than half-a-dozen small vessels.
Frigates have already been seen among some of the islands of
Polynesia, and heard of in the greater number. To send a ship of a
lower class to establish a general influence over the Polynesians,
and our own wandering countrymen, as well as for the purposes I have
previously mentioned, would be to treat the business so lightly
that, for the credit of our country, it would perhaps be better let
alone; particularly as a frigate does occasionally go from the South
American station, and a sloop from Australia, or the East-Indies.
No European or American nation has now a duty to perform, or an
interest to watch over, in the Pacific Ocean, equal to that of Great
Britain. The North Americans are increasing their connections,
and consequently their influence, rapidly. Russia has extended
her arm over the Northern Pacific. France has sent her inquiring
officers, and Roman Catholic missionaries[20] are sowing the seeds
of differences, if not discord, among the islanders, in the Gambier
Islands and elsewhere.
Independent of expense, what are the principal local objections to
employing a frigate in such a duty? In the first place, among the
islands there would be risk of getting ashore, increasing with the
size of the ship:--in the second; it might be difficult to obtain
supplies, and in the event of losing spars she might be obliged to
return: perhaps to England:--in the third; to get ashore, in a ship
drawing so much water, would be a much more serious affair than a
similar accident happening to a smaller vessel: and, by obliging her
to return to England, or go to an East-Indian dock-yard, would upset
all plans and expose Polynesia to greater irregularities and less
control than ever, until new arrangements could be made.
To the ‘risk of getting ashore,’ I answer: large ships are in general
more efficiently officered and manned than small ones, and they are
less likely to get into danger, because they are consequently more
carefully managed. The Pacific is, technically speaking, a ‘deep
water’ ocean: all its coral reefs are ‘steep-to.’ Sand or mud banks
are unknown, except near the shores of continents, and even there
they are rare, unless on the Japanese and Chinese shores. Small ships
attempt to sail in intricate passages, and get ashore:--large vessels
use warps, or await very favourable opportunities, and are not
risked. Secondly: supplies may now be obtained in any quantity on the
coast of South America, as well as in Australia; and fresh provisions
can be obtained by regular, reasonable purchase, at the principal
islands. New Zealand, Norfolk Island, the north-west coast of America
and other places, are stocked with the finest spars: and lastly: a
large ship, well provided, has the resources of a small dock-yard
within herself.
An East-India trader of eight hundred tons, was hove down by her own
crew, and the natives, at Otaheite. Cook laid his ship ashore for
repair in Endeavour River, on the north-east coast of New Holland;
where the rise and fall of tide is very great. Sydney is an excellent
place for heaving down and repairing a ship of any size. Guayaquil
has a great rise and fall of tide. Lima, or rather Callao,--and
Coquimbo, are good places for a ship to refit in. But Sydney is
superior to all as a rendezvous, and any repairs may be effected
there.
Large ships are able to do all their own work, while small vessels
are frequently obliged to ask for the help of their neighbours, when
they get into difficulty, or want repairs. These considerations,
however, should not prevent a frigate from having a good tender, for
much risk would then be avoided: and although the large ship might
be repairing, the knowledge that she was in the Pacific[21] would
be quite sufficient, if she had only established such a character
as that which was borne by many a British frigate during the last
general war. Such a ship could detach efficient boats for surveying,
or other purposes; she could carry animals, seeds, plants, and
poultry, to those islands which have none; and by her countenance and
protection, she could assist and encourage the missionaries in their
all-important occupation.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] Amoco is the native word for the tattow marks.
[2] This apparent wearing away of the teeth is not found in the
Zealanders alone. The Fuegians, Araucanians, and Society Islanders
show it more or less, and it is very remarkable among the natives of
New Holland. I have also seen some white men (Europeans) with similar
teeth, but they were all elderly; whereas in some young savages I
have noticed incisors shaped rather like those of a horse.
[3] Arabesque, like the ornaments at Otaheite.
[4] North of latitude 38° S.
[5] Humboldt mentions fern-roots being used for food near the Orinoco.
[6] Kauri? or some other pine?
[7] I learned that de Thierry was sometime resident in the
King’s-bench, and that his alleged purchase of land, in New Zealand,
was a theme of ridicule among the aborigines.
[8] Or Paa; by Cook called Hippah.
[9] This chief said that his father had adopted the name of ‘Pomare,’
because he had heard of a very distinguished warrior at Otaheite, who
bore that appellation.
[10] Before the Beagle sailed it was settled.
[11] In Mariner’s Tonga Islands a full description is given of the
manner in which the Friendly Islanders shot rats: as an amusement.
[12] There are several varieties of the human race in New Zealand;
differing from one another as much as the lightest olive-coloured
Otaheitan differs from the ‘brown-black’ New Hollander.
[13] A few natives can now read and write.
[14] Cook speaks in strong terms of the neatness and regularity of
their cultivated grounds.
[15] Literally cow-pig. Before white men brought others, pigs were
the only domestic animals known in Polynesia besides dogs:--and when
a cow first appeared in a ship, she was called cow-booa, or booa-cow.
[16] Appendix, No. 35.
[17] A copy of the constitution, or form of government, decided upon
at a meeting of all the chiefs of the northern districts (excepting
two or three of minor consequence), is in the Appendix, No. 36.
[18] The ‘Rose’ of Halifax.
[19] Afterwards (at Sydney) I heard that the men had all left the
vessel, and were living among the natives.
[20] Sent out immediately after the first circulation of Captain
Beechey’s interesting work.
[21] No accident need oblige her to quit that ocean. Many large ships
are built there, and never leave its waters.