Tooi and Teterree--Mr. Marsden's Second Voyage to New
Zealand--Progress of the Gospel there--Shunghie--His ferocity--Mr.
Marsden returns to New South Wales--Third Voyage to New
Zealand--Malicious charges brought against him in his absence--A
Commission of Inquiry--Its result--Letters, etc.--Approbation of
the Government.
The New Zealand mission still continued to occupy Mr. Marsden's
thoughts. He seems to have been always alert, turning every hint to
account, seizing every occasion and employing every likely instrument to
promote the grand design. The excellent quality of the New Zealand flax
had not escaped him. He induced two young New Zealanders, whom he had
brought with him to Paramatta, to visit England, which they did in H. M.
ship Kangaroo, and were placed under the care of his friends in London.
"I wish on no account," he writes to Mr. Pratt, "that they should be
idle; if they cannot be useful in forming a vocabulary, (of the Maori
language of which he was now anxious that a grammar should be prepared)
let them be _put into a rope walk_, and be kept close to labour while
they remain in England." They were both chieftains, Tooi and Teterree;
still the reader must not suppose the rope walk was to them a degrading
employment. Mr. Marsden had another object in view besides their
improvement, and he wished to impart to his friends in London something
of his own enthusiasm in behalf of the Maorie race. "The Society will
see," he says in his letter to the secretary, Mr. Pratt, "from these
two young men what the natives of New Zealand are. They are prepared to
receive any instruction that we can give them; they are fine young men,
and in temper and natural parts very like their countrymen in general."
They seem to have deserved the character here given them. We insert a
letter from each, written while they were in England. The first is
addressed to Mr. Pratt while Tooi was on a visit amongst the
manufactories of Staffordshire and Shropshire.
"Madeley, Sept. 17, 1818.
"DEAR SIR,--I am much obliged and thank you, Mr. Pratt, for the
letter you sent me. I so pleased when Mr. Pratt finds a ship. I
want a ship to go home. I have been to Coalport. I made four cups.
Mr. Rose tell me, 'You soon learn.' 'Yes,' I say, 'very soon learn
with fingers, but book very hard,' etc.
"To Mr. Pratt. THOMAS TOOI."
The other letter is in a graver strain from Teterree to Mr. Marsden.
"Church Missionary House, October 12, 1818.
"MY DEAR FRIEND,--I like Englishman much; he love New Zealand man.
I very sick in missionary house, and very near die; nothing but
bone. Kind friend missionary pray for me every night.
"I kneel down in my bed-room every night, and pray to Jesus Christ
our Saviour to learn me to read the book.
"Very nice country England. I never see the king of England; he
very poorly, and Queen Charlotte very poorly too.
"I see the iron make, and bottle blow. Tooi blow a bottle, and I
blow a bottle. I make four cups at China work, etc. Farewell, good
friend.
"TETEREE."
Their English education being completed, the young chieftains returned
to Paramatta, and Mr. Marsden embarked a second time for New Zealand,
taking Tooi and Teterree with him, with several missionaries, three
mechanics and their families. They landed at Rangheehoa, in the Bay of
Islands, on the 12th August. The rival chiefs Shunghie and Koro-Koro now
contended for the site of the new missionary settlement which Mr.
Marsden contemplated, each being anxious that his own domain should be
preferred, and offering a grant of land. The spot was selected at Kiddee
Kiddee (or Keri-Keri) a district in the territory of Shunghie, at the
head of a fine harbour; but such was the distress of the disappointed
chieftain, whose part was taken by young Tooi, that Mr. Marsden almost
relented: "He made strong appeals to our feelings, and urged his request
by every argument that he could advance, so that we were obliged to
promise to accompany him on the next day to Parroa, and that we would
build him and Tooi a house if the situation pleased us, and send one or
two Europeans to reside amongst them." The stores were now landed, and
all the beach exhibited a scene of happiness and busy civilization;
fourteen natives sawing timber, others cutting knees, etc.; "a sight
more grateful to a benevolent mind could not possibly have been seen;
our hearts overflowed with gratitude. We viewed the various operations
with delight, and considered them the dawn of civil and religious
liberty to this land of darkness, superstition, and cruelty." Such were
the comments which the missionary leader noted down at the time, and in
reading them we are made to feel how much Christian benevolence excels
the mere selfishness of the most enterprising colonist. Simply for the
good of others, without the hope or wish of reaping any other advantage
than that of extending the kingdom of God amongst a savage race, the
little missionary band, self exiled, and consecrated to a life of
unknown toil and hardship, exult in laying the foundations of their
settlement, as the Jews of old exulted when they began to build their
temple to the living God. On the next sabbath day, the work was
consecrated with prayer and praise. Mr. Marsden's simple language best
describes the scene:--
"_August 22._--We assembled on the beach for public worship, as
there was no place sufficiently spacious to hold the people. We
were surrounded with natives and a number of chiefs from different
districts.
"It was gratifying to be able to perform worship to the true God
in the open air, without fear or danger, when surrounded by
cannibals with their spears stuck in the ground, and their
pattoo-pattoos and daggers concealed under their mats. We could
not doubt but that the time was at hand for gathering in this
noble people into the fold of Christ. Their misery is extreme, the
prince of darkness has full dominion over their souls and bodies;
under the influence of ignorance and superstition many devote
themselves to death, and the chiefs sacrifice their slaves as a
satisfaction for the death of any of their friends. This is a
tyranny from which nothing but the gospel can set them free."
[Illustration: THE BAY OF ISLANDS, NEW ZEALAND.]
During this three months' sojourn, besides the attention which Mr.
Marsden gave to the missions in the Bay of Islands, he made a circuitous
journey of seven hundred miles, exploring the country with a view to
more extensive operations. His arrival over land and in health, at the
Bay of Islands, on his return, relieved the minds of his anxious
friends the missionaries, and "gave them additional cause," they say,
"to bless and thank God for his protecting care, and that he had again
heard and answered our supplications." "There is not one in ten
thousand, I think," writes Mr. Hall, "who could or would have borne the
privations, difficulties, and dangers, which he has undergone. I pray
that he may reap the fruits of his labour by the New Zealanders turning
from their degraded state to serve the only living and true God." Mr.
Marsden's journal of this second visit will be valuable in time to come,
as perhaps the best record in existence of the character and habits of a
wonderful people, on whom civilization had not yet dawned, and whose
spiritual darkness was profound. He landed, during a coasting voyage,
with young Tooi, on the small island of Motooroa. "The first object that
struck my eye was a man's head stuck on a pole near the hut where we
were to sleep; the face appeared beautifully tattooed; it was the head
of a chief who was killed by Shunghie's people. The sight," he says,
"naturally excited feelings of horror in my breast." Most men would have
felt something of alarm. But Mr. Marsden seems to have been a perfect
stranger to fear; and if courage, whether physical or moral, makes a
hero, he must be ranked high in the heroic class. He merely adds, "This
caused me to value more and more the blessing of Divine revelation, and
the blessing of civil government."
In his journal on a tour to the River Shukeangha, he writes thus:
"_September 28, 1819._--After we had passed the swamp, we came
into a very open country, for many miles round covered with fern.
The part through which we walked was gravelly, and not very good
in general.
"The wind increased toward evening, and blew strong from the rainy
quarter, so that we had the prospect of a very wet night, without
a single tree to shelter us from the storm for about eight miles
from the swamp we had passed. At this distance was a wood, through
which our road lay, which we were anxious to reach, if possible,
in order to shelter ourselves from the wind and rain. With this
hope we pushed forward, and arrived at the edge of the wood about
nine o'clock. The rain now began to fall heavily. The natives cut
branches of fern and boughs of trees, and made us a little shed
under the trees, to afford us some shelter. The blackness of the
heavens, the gloomy darkness of the wood, the roaring of the wind
among the trees, the sound of the falling rain on the thick
foliage, united with the idea that we were literally at the ends
of the earth, with relation to our native land, surrounded with
cannibals whom we knew to have fed on human flesh, and wholly in
their power, and yet our minds free from fear of danger--all this
excited in my breast such new, pleasing, and, at the same time,
opposite sensations, as I cannot describe.
"While I sat musing under the shelter of a lofty pine, my thoughts
were lost in wonder and surprise, in taking a view of the wisdom
and goodness of God's providential care, which had attended all my
steps to that very hour. If busy imagination inquired what I did
there, I had no answer to seek in wild conjecture: I felt with
gratitude that I had not come by chance; but had been sent to
labour in preparing the way of the Lord in this dreary wilderness,
where the voice of joy and gladness had never been heard: and I
could not but anticipate with joyful hope the period when the
Day-star from on high would dawn and shine on this dark and heathen
land, and cause the very earth on which we then reposed to bring
forth its increase, when God himself would give the poor
inhabitants his blessing. After reflecting on the different ideas
which crowded themselves upon my mind, I wrapped myself up in my
great coat, and lay down to sleep."
He visited an island where he met with a singular spectacle. A number of
natives were at work, breaking up the ground with a sort of spatula, or
wooden spade, to plant their sweet potato. Amongst these was Koro-Koro's
head wife, or queen. "Her Majesty was working hard with a wooden spade,
digging the ground for potatoes, with several of the women and some
men." The royal infant lay on the ground sprawling and kicking by her
side; "the old queen earnestly requested that I would give her a hoe,
showing me the difficulty she had in digging with a stick; a request
with which I promised to comply." We leave the reader to admire at
leisure the Homeric simplicity of the scene, or to indulge in those
sentiments of contemptuous pity to which Englishmen are possibly more
prone.
In another place, he found the head wife of Shunghie, though perfectly
blind, digging in the same manner, surrounded by her women, and
apparently with as much ease as the rest. The offer of a hoe in exchange
for her spatula was accepted with joy. The scene drew forth these
reflections: "When we viewed the wife of one of the most military
chiefs, possessing large territories, digging with a spatula for her
subsistence, this sight kindled within us the best feelings of the human
heart. If a woman of this character, and blind, can thus labour with
her servants, what will not this people rise to, if they can procure the
means of improving their country, and of bettering their condition?
Their temporal state must be improved by agriculture and the simple
arts, in connexion with the introduction of Christianity, in order to
give permanence and full influence to the gospel among them. Our God and
Saviour, who is loving to every man, and whose tender mercies are over
all his works, is now, blessed be his name, moving the hearts of his
servants to send relief to the poor heathen, even to the very ends of
the earth."
The journal affords us repeated evidences of a phenomenon, which recent
occurrences in India have at this moment deeply impressed on the heart
of England,--one with which both divines and legislators ought to have
been acquainted (for it is not obscurely referred to in the word of
God), but which a foolish and spurious benevolence has led many to
deny--namely, that the most Satanic ferocity frequently lurks under
gentle manners, and is even to be found in connexion with the warmest
natural affection. Nothing, for instance, can be more affecting than the
meeting of Tooi and his sister, after the absence of the former in
England. Tooi himself anticipated _a scene_, and half ashamed, when he
saw his sister at a distance, tried to avoid the interview in public,
and requested Mr. Marsden to order off the canoe in which they were
approaching. But her love could not be restrained; in an instant she
sprang into the boat, fell on her knees, and clung to Tooi. He saluted
her in return; when she gave vent to her feelings in tears and loud
lamentations, which she continued for about an hour. "Tooi conducted
himself with great propriety, suppressing all his wild feelings, and at
the same time treating his sister with all the soft and tender feelings
of nature. I could not but view his conduct with admiration." When Tooi
was in England, he had been taught to read and write, and instructed in
the doctrines of Christianity; and he and his companion Teterree were
general favourites, from their gentle manners and quick intelligence.
They were one day taken to St. Paul's by Mr. Nicholas, who naturally
supposed they would be lost in astonishment at the grandeur of the
building, but they expressed neither surprise nor pleasure; on which
that gentleman makes this just remark; "It is only things of common
occurrence, I suspect, that strike the mind of a savage. The faculties
must be cultivated to fit them for the enjoyment of the beautiful or the
sublime." One thing, however, did strike them, and caused no small
excitement. In walking up Fleet-street, they suddenly stopped before a
hair-dresser's shop, in the window of which were some female busts. They
screamed out "Wyenee! Wyenee!" (Women! Women!) taking them for dried
heads of the human subject. "I took some pains," adds their kind
conductor, "to beat this notion out of them, lest they should tell their
countrymen on their return that Europeans preserved human heads as well
as New Zealanders."
These bursts of feeling were, it seems, quite natural; intense sorrow or
savage exultation, the extremes of tenderness and of brutality, were
indulged by turns, without any suspicion on their part of insincerity in
either. Immediately after, Mr. Marsden mentions that he passed a canoe
in which he recognised an old acquaintance, Hooratookie, the first New
Zealander introduced into civil society--Governor King having once
entertained him with great kindness. Hooratookie was grateful; spoke of
the governor's daughter, then a child, with unfeigned regard, calling
her by her Christian name, Maria. But looking into his large war-canoe,
capable of holding from sixty to eighty men, with provisions, Mr.
Marsden observed on the stern the dried head of a chief. "The face was
as natural as life, the hair was long, and every lock combed straight,
and the whole brought up to the crown, tied in a knot, and ornamented
with feathers, according to the custom of the chiefs when in full dress.
It was placed there as an incentive to revenge. It is possible the death
of this chief may be revenged by his children's children; hence the
foundation is laid for new acts of cruelty and blood from generation to
generation."
Mr. Marsden's fame now preceded him, and wherever he went, he was
received not with rude hospitality, but with courteous respect. One
chieftain offered up an ovation and prayer on their arrival. "He invoked
the heavens above and the earth beneath to render our visit advantageous
to his people, and agreeable to us, and that no harm may happen to us,
whom he esteemed as the gods of another country. We heard the profane
adulations with silent grief, and could not but wish most ardently for
the light of Divine truth to shine on such a dark and superstitious
mind." Yet this man was a ferocious cannibal; and when Mr. Marsden
expressed his anxiety for the safety of the missionaries after he should
have left them, he was calmed by the assurance that, as we had done them
no harm, they had no satisfaction to demand, "and that as for eating us,
the flesh of a New Zealander was sweeter than that of an European, in
consequence of the white people eating so much salt." From this the
conversation turned to that of eating human flesh, which they defended
with arguments which to them appeared, no doubt, perfectly conclusive.
They alleged that fishes, animals, and birds, preyed upon each other;
and that one god would devour another god, therefore there was in nature
sufficient warrant for the practice. Shunghie explained how it was the
gods preyed on each other, "and that when he was to the southward, and
had killed a number of people and was afraid of their god, he caught
their god, being a reptile, and ate part of it, and reserved the
remainder for his friends."
Shunghie, the greatest of New Zealand warriors, was at the same time a
striking instance of that union of gentleness and ferocity which
characterized this people. To the missionaries his kindness was always
great, and his respect for Mr. Marsden knew no bounds. An instance of
his good feeling may here be noticed. In the beginning of 1817, a naval
expedition, under his command, sailed from the Bay of Islands. It
consisted of thirty canoes, and about eight hundred men. Its object was
to obtain peace with his enemies at the North Cape. The chief took an
affectionate leave of the settlers, and told them that if he fell they
must be kind to his children; and if he survived, he would take care of
their families when they should die. The expedition returned, however,
in about a fortnight, his people having quarrelled with those of
Wangaroa, into which place they had put for refreshment; and being
afraid, he said, that the Wangaroa people would attack the settlers in
his absence, he, for the present, abandoned the expedition.
Shunghie was again preparing for war when Mr. Marsden paid his second
visit to New Zealand; his army, to the number of several thousand men,
were already assembled; his war-canoes were ready, and all his
preparations complete; yet in deference to the remonstrances of Mr.
Marsden, he again abandoned his scheme of conquest or revenge, and
dismissed his followers.
Shunghie paid a visit to England about the year 1820. His majestic
person, graceful manners, and gentle yet manly disposition were much
admired. He was one of Nature's nobles; what might not be expected from
such a man when he returned home again? George the Fourth invited him to
Carlton Palace, and received him with marked attention, presenting him
with some military accoutrements and costly fire-arms. Yet the heart of
a savage never ceased to beat beneath this polished exterior, while his
pride was fanned to madness by the consideration he received in England.
"There is," he exclaimed, "but one king in England; there shall be only
one king in New Zealand." Returning by way of Sydney he there happened
to meet with Inacki, another chief, with whom he had an ancient feud. He
told him that when they got back to New Zealand he would fight him.
Inacki accepted the challenge, and Shunghie accordingly assembled, on
his return to New Zealand, no fewer than two thousand men to attack
Inacki. The latter was prepared to receive him, and for some time the
event of the battle that ensued was doubtful. At length Shunghie, who
had the greatest number of muskets, and who had arranged his men in the
form called, in Roman tactics, the cuneus, or wedge, placing himself at
the apex and directing those behind him to wheel round the enemy, from
the right and left, or to fall back into their original position as
opportunity offered, shot Inacki. The savage Shunghie immediately sprang
forward, scooped out the eye of the dying man with his knife, and
swallowed it; and then, holding his hands to his throat, into which he
had plunged his knife, and from which the blood flowed copiously, drank
as much of the horrid beverage as the two hands could hold. Amongst the
horrible superstitions of the Maories, one was that the eye of a victim
thus devoured became a star in the firmament, and thus the ferocious
Shunghie sought for honour and immortality. With the sword which he had
received as a present from King George in England, he immediately cut
off the heads of sixteen of his captives in cold blood; this was done to
appease the spirit of his son-in-law, who had fallen in battle. In this
battle, Shunghie and his tribe were armed with muskets, his opponents
only with the native weapons, the club and spear. His victory,
therefore, was an easy one, but his revenge was cruel. A New Zealand
traveller, who visited the spot in 1844, says: "The bones of two
thousand men still lie whitening on the plain, and the ovens remain in
which the flesh of the slaughtered was cooked for the horrible repasts
of the victorious party, and yet so numerous were the slaves taken
prisoners that the Nga-Puis (the tribe of which Shunghie was the head)
killed many of them on their way to the Bay of Islands merely to get rid
of them."[I] Such was the gentle Shunghie when his viler nature was let
loose--a frightful specimen of human nature, varnished by education, but
unvisited by the grace of God. We turn aside for a moment to describe a
scene in bright contrast with these revolting details. Amongst the few
who escaped the general slaughter was Koromona, a chief who became blind
soon afterwards, but hearing archdeacon W. Williams preach at Matamata,
was converted. "For the last four years," says the traveller above
mentioned, "Koromona has been a native teacher, and may be seen every
sabbath day with his class instructing them in the truths of the
Scripture with an earnestness which is truly admirable; he is now about
to start to preach Christianity to a tribe which has not yet received
it. His memory is wonderful; he knows the whole of the church service by
heart, and repeats hymns and many long chapters verbatim." Thus the
gospel won its victorious way, and proved itself triumphant over hearts
no less depraved and passions no less degraded than those of Shunghie
himself. No earthly power could have effected such a change; it was
wrought by that "gospel" which is truly "the power of God unto salvation
to every one that believeth."
[I] Savage Life and Scenes in Australia and New Zealand. By George
French Angas, London, 1847.
Amidst such scenes the missionaries dwelt in peace. War, and its
inseparable and more hideous companion, cannibalism, showed themselves
at their gates, but were not allowed to hurt them. Under the good
providence of God, their security was owing, in a great measure, to the
prudence and courage with which Mr. Marsden planned and carried out his
projects. Himself a stranger to fear, he infused courage into those
around him, and both he and they felt secure under the shield and
buckler of the Almighty. No doubt the fearlessness of Mr. Marsden won
the admiration of these savages and contributed not a little to his
safety. His journal abounds in instances such as that which follows.
The scene is in a Maori village, and the writer is surrounded with
cannibals. "After conversing on several subjects, we had supper, sung a
hymn, and then committed ourselves to the Angel of the everlasting
covenant, and so lay down to rest; a number of the natives lay around
the hut and some within. I slept well until daybreak, being weary with
walking."
He appears to have arrived at home, after this second visit to New
Zealand, towards the close of November, 1819. In February, 1820, he was
once more on his way back to New Zealand. His letters bear ample
testimony to a fact which all who were acquainted with him in private
life observed, that his heart was full of affection, and that his home
was the scene of his greatest happiness. He had not returned, it is
true, to be greeted with public honours; on the contrary, he was still a
marked man. The governor and many of the leading men in the colony were
prejudiced against him. We believe it is to this period of his life that
an anecdote which we give on the best possible authority belongs. The
governor had consented to his recent visit to New Zealand with
reluctance, and had limited the period of his absence with military
precision, threatening at the same time to deprive him of his chaplaincy
unless he returned within the given time. The last day arrived, and the
expected vessel was not in sight. The governor repeated his
determination to those around him, and Mr. Marsden's friends were filled
with anxiety, and his wife and family at length gave up all hope.
Towards evening the long-wished-for sail appeared in the offing, and at
eight o'clock in the evening Mr. Marsden quietly walked into the
governor's drawing-room with the laconic and yet respectful address,
"Sir, I am here to report myself." But within the bosom of his family
all was peace, and his presence shed light and joy on everything around
him. His circumstances were prosperous--for his farm, which was almost
entirely committed to Mrs. Marsden's care, was now a source of
considerable income; his children were growing up to manhood under their
parents' roof; his circle of friends and visitors was large, for there
were no bounds to his simple hospitality; and the clergy of the colony,
men like minded with himself, had now begun to regard him not only with
affection, but with the reverence which belongs to years and wisdom and
wide experience.
Yet at the call of duty this veteran was ready, on the shortest notice,
to resume a life of such toil and hardship as nothing could have
rendered welcome, its novelty once over, but motives the most solemn and
commanding. H.M.S. Dromedary, Captain Skinner, was directed by
government to proceed from Sydney to the Bay of Islands to receive a
cargo of New Zealand timber for trial in the dockyards of England; and
Sir Byam Martin, controller of the navy, knowing something of the energy
of Mr. Marsden's character, and his great acquaintance with New Zealand,
requested that he would accompany the Dromedary, which was joined by the
Coromandel, in order to facilitate the object of their visit. With this
request he felt it his duty to comply. He arrived in New Zealand on the
20th of February, and embarked on board the Dromedary to return on the
25th of November. Thus nearly the whole year was given to the service of
New Zealand.
The time was not lost. On his arrival, a difficulty occurred which he
only could have set at rest. The natives had come to the determination
to exchange nothing, nor to do any kind of work, except for muskets and
powder. His first business was to assemble the few European settlers,
the advanced guard of that mighty band of European colonists which was
soon to follow, and to persuade them not on any account to supply the
natives with these weapons of war, in their hands so sure a source of
mischief. With regard to the duty of the missionaries there could be no
doubt; and this he explained to all the powerful chiefs. They had come
among them to preach the gospel of peace, how then could they be
expected to furnish the means and implements of destruction? In writing
to the Missionary Society at home he says, and he must have written such
a sentence with an aching heart, "I think it much more to the honour of
religion and the good of New Zealand even to give up the mission for the
present, than to trade with the natives in those articles."
After a short time spent in the Bay of Islands, at the mission, he
proceeded, sometimes in company with Europeans, but for the most part
alone, upon a tour of many hundred miles through regions yet untrodden
by the foot of civilized men, mingling with the native tribes,
accompanying them in their wanderings from place to place, teaching the
first lessons of civilization and gospel truth, and receiving everywhere
from these savages the kindest attention and the most hospitable welcome
in return.
On their way to Tourangha, he writes, under the date of June 20: "The
day was far spent when we reached the plain. We walked on till the sun
was nearly set, when we stopped and prepared for the night. The
servants, who had the provisions to carry, were very tired. There were
no huts on the plain, nor any inhabitants, and we were therefore
compelled to take up our lodging in the open air. I was very weary,
having had no rest the preceding night; and having come a long day's
journey, so that I felt that rest would be very acceptable, even on a
heap of fern or anything else.
"The peculiar scene that surrounded me, furnished the mind with new
matter for contemplation on the works and ways of God. The mystery of
his providence, and the still greater mystery of his grace, were all
unsearchable to me. I had come from a distant country, and was then at
the ends of the earth, a solitary individual, resting on an extensive
wild, upon which no civilized foot had ever before trodden. My
companions were poor savages, who nevertheless vied with each other in
their attentions to me. I could not but feel attached to them. What
would I have given to have had the book of life opened, which was yet a
sealed book to them,--to have shown them that God who made them, and to
have led them to Calvary's mount, that they may see the Redeemer who had
shed his precious blood for the redemption of the world, and was there
set up as an ensign for the nations. But it was not in my power to take
the veil from their hearts, I could only pray for them, and entreat the
Father of mercies to visit them with his salvation. I felt very grateful
that a Divine revelation had been granted to me; that I knew the Son of
God had come, and believed that he had made a full and sufficient
sacrifice or atonement for the sins of a guilty world. With
compassionate feelings for my companions, under a grateful sense of my
own mercies, I lay down to rest, free from all fear of danger."
It was during this tour that the following letter was addressed to the
lady of his excellent friend Dr. Mason Good. It is long, but the reader
will scarcely wish that it had been shorter. Let it stand on record as
an evidence of the power of true religion in maintaining amidst the
rudest scenes, and the rough warfare of an adventurous life, all the
gentleness and affection of the most refined and polished society of a
Christian land.
"New Zealand, Sept. 22, 1820.
"DEAR MADAM,--Your kind favour arrived in the Bay of Islands
September 7, the evening I returned from a long journey. I had no
sooner cast my eye over your letter, than busy imagination
transported me from the solitary woods, dreary wastes, and savage
society of New Zealand, into 'the polished corner' of
Guilford-street, and surrounded me with every cordial that could
refresh the weary traveller, revive the fainting spirits, and blow
the languishing spark of Christian love with a heavenly flame. I
had literally been living for weeks a savage life, as far as
outward circumstances went. I ate, I slept in the thick wood, in a
cave, or on the banks of a river, or sea, with my native
companions, wherever the shadows of the evening, or gathering
storm compelled us to seek for shelter. Every day as I advanced
from tribe to tribe, I was introduced to new acquaintances; my
object was to gain from observation and experience that knowledge
of savage life which I could not learn from books, and to make
myself well acquainted with the wants, wishes, and character of
the native inhabitants, to enable me, if my life should be spared,
to aid to the utmost of my power in their deliverance from their
present temporal miseries, which are great upon them, and from
their much sorer bondage to the prince of darkness. I am happy in
having obtained this object to a certain extent, at the expense of
a few temporal privations, and a little bodily evil. When I have
lain down upon the ground after a weary day's journey, wrapped up
in my great coat, surrounded only by cannibals, I often thought
how many thousands are there in civil life, languishing upon beds
of down, and saying, with Job, 'in the evening would God it were
morning,' while I could sleep free from fear or pain, far remote
from civil society under the guardian care of him who keepeth
Israel. Though I everywhere met with the greatest kindness from
the natives, as well as hospitality, for they always gave me the
best fern-root, potato, or fish in their possession, yet I could
never have duly estimated the sweets of civil life, and the still
greater mental gratification of Christian communion, if I had not
passed through these dark regions of Satan's dominions, on which
the dayspring from on high hath never cast a single ray. You
cannot conceive how great a feast your letter was, after so long a
fast. I was instantly present with every person you mentioned, and
lived over again some of those happy moments I once spent under
your hospitable roof. A sacred warmth flowed round my soul, my
heart was sweetly melted under the influence of that pure and
undefiled religion which dropped from your pen, like the heavenly
dew, as it ran through every line. What shall we call those pure
sensations that thus warm and captivate the soul? Do they flow
from the communion of saints, or at these delightful moments does
some invisible seraph touch our lips with a live coal from God's
altar? If you have ever experienced similar feelings, their
recollection will explain more fully my meaning than my words can
express. When these lines meet your eye, may they find your soul
rapt up to the third heaven! But to where am I now wandering? the
veil of the flesh is not now rent, we have not yet entered into
the holy of holies. Though God has given you and your seed the
land of Goshen, and you have light continually in your dwelling,
yet you are still in Egypt, while I am constrained to dwell in
Mesech, and to dwell in these remote and dark tents of Kedar. But,
my dear madam, seas and continents will not long separate the
people of God. I humbly hope the day is at no great distance, when
we shall join the spirits of just men made perfect. At present you
abound with blessings.... Jacob often thought of Bethel, and when
in his afflictions he seemed to have forgotten that sacred spot,
God said unto him, 'Arise and go to Bethel, and dwell there.' It
will always be safest for us to dwell also at Bethel. I must now
close, as my paper is nearly full, and your patience must also be
tired when it comes to your turn to read what I have written.
"Remember me to your sister, Mrs. Skinner. Tell Mr. Good I
received his last letter, and will answer it at a more convenient
season. I was on my passage to Port Jackson in a small schooner,
but adverse winds drove me back almost dead with sea-sickness. I
have been here since February last, and when I shall get home I am
uncertain; I venture no more in the schooner. Mrs. M. wants me
back, as she has much upon her hands. It gave me great
satisfaction to hear my son had arrived safe. I knew your
kindness would far exceed my wishes. I will endeavour, as far as
able, to pay all my debts when I see Mr. Good and you face to
face; till then you must give me credit, and if I do not pay you,
you will be sure to receive both principal and interest in the
resurrection of the just.
"I remain, dear madam,
"Yours, in the bonds of Christian love,
"SAMUEL MARSDEN."
The immediate object of his visit being accomplished, he returned to
Sydney, where a strange reception awaited him. Governor Macquarie had
sent to Lord Bathurst a despatch in answer to the statements of the
senior chaplain, already noticed, in which he brought heavy charges
against the latter, which deeply affected his character, not only as a
magistrate, but as a Christian man and a minister. The office of a
magistrate he had been compelled to undertake in common with the other
clergy of the colony, who were all included in the commission of the
peace. For this there was no justification except hard necessity. Mr.
Marsden, however, had long been weary of the irksome task, and had once
and again requested the governor to accept his resignation. This the
governor had expressly declined to do, on the ground that "his services
as a magistrate were too beneficial to the public;" but in fact, it
would seem, only that he might have the opportunity of inflicting upon
him the annoyance of a formal dismissal, which was shortly afterwards
notified in the "Sydney Gazette."
Lord Bathurst, in consequence of the governor's despatch, determined
upon a step which gave great satisfaction to Mr. Marsden's friends at
home, and sent out a commissioner to investigate upon the spot the
truth of these and various other matters affecting the state of the
colony, which had now obtained public notoriety, and had already engaged
the attention of the British parliament; and Commissioner Bigge arrived
during Mr. Marsden's absence to manage the inquiry. On his return we
find him seeking a public and searching examination of his whole
conduct. Addressing a letter to the commissioner, he says: "I am happy
to meet every charge that can be brought against me. I have no wish to
do more than set my character right in the opinion of his Majesty's
government and in that of the Christian world; and I am unfeignedly
thankful to you for the fair opportunity you afford me to justify my
public and private conduct."
Among the many charges brought before the commission of inquiry was that
already preferred against Mr. Marsden by the governor in his despatch to
Lord Bathurst, namely, that he had been guilty of extraordinary severity
as a magistrate. Another, scarcely consistent with the first, was, that
more profligacy and depravity were to be found amongst the convicts of
Paramatta than in any other district, and that this was owing to the
neglect of the senior chaplain. Perhaps it would have been impossible to
have brought forward any two charges of a more painful nature. Happily
the first was easily disproved, or rather it fell at once to the ground
for want of proof. The second was the more cruel, because, while the
facts bore out the statement, Mr. Marsden was the only public man in the
colony who was not guilty, by his silence at least, to some extent of
the iniquities which the governor affected to deplore. Paramatta was, in
fact, the receptacle of the most hardened and depraved of the convict
class; it received the sweepings of the jails in every district. There
were nearly two hundred women and seven hundred male convicts there,
while the factory was so small as not to be able to contain more than
sixty women, and the remainder were obliged to find lodging for
themselves or to sleep in the open fields. This was Mr. Marsden's answer
to the commissioner; it was a repetition of the remonstrance which he
alone had had the courage, two years before, to present to the governor,
and then to remit home to England. Thus he found himself arraigned as
the cause of those very evils--evils, too, lying at his own door--which
he had obtained so much obloquy for attempting to remove. The reflection
is a trite one, but it will bear to be repeated, that the Christian
philanthropist must look for his recompense in heaven, and not from man.
"If when ye do well and suffer for it, ye take it patiently, this is
acceptable with God, for even hereunto were ye called." A third charge
was that he had squandered public money in building the female orphan
house. He showed, however, on his defence, that the lieutenant-governor,
judge-advocate, and others, who formed the committee, had examined the
accounts and passed them every quarter, and that the governor had
himself afterwards approved of them, and published them in the "Sydney
Gazette" three years before the charge was made. It now appeared further
that Mr. Marsden had advanced largely to the institution; to the amount
indeed of more than eight hundred pounds, for the mere cost of the
building; "and this," he says, "must have been known to the governor, as
I was obliged to apply to him for repayment for some of these sums, and
received an answer that he could not assist me."
Such are some of the trials which they must learn to encounter who would
be brave and fearless soldiers of the cross. They must expect to have
their motives censured, their tempers blamed, their actions
misconstrued, sometimes by men as good, or, at least, as honest as
themselves. Governor Macquarie left the impression of his genius upon
the youthful institutions of Australia, where his memory is still
honoured as that of a great man; yet his conduct to Mr. Marsden was
oppressive and unjust. It is consoling to know that there had been
nothing in the personal conduct of the latter unworthy of his sacred
calling. The commissioner, in the conclusion of the investigation,
inserts, for Mr. Marsden's information, the governor's testimonial of
his character, which, considering the charges brought against him,
certainly does go far to prove that misapprehension and exasperated
feelings had betrayed his excellency into a warmth and precipitancy of
which, in moments of less irritation, he felt ashamed. "The governor
admits that Mr. Marsden's manner to him has been constantly civil and
accommodating, and that nothing in his manner could provoke the
governor's warmth. The governor admits his qualifications, his activity,
and his unremitting vigilance as a magistrate, and in society his
cheerful disposition and readiness to please."
While this inquiry was pending at Sydney, the governor addressed a
letter to Lord Sidmouth, and published it in England. It was a defence
of his own line of policy against various attacks which had been made
against it in the House of Commons by the Hon. H. Grey Bennett and
others. In the course of his defence, the governor not only ridiculed
Mr. Marsden's letter on the necessity of a female factory, and his
account of the melancholy condition of the convict women, but charges
him with being himself accustomed to traffic in spirituous liquors, and
in consequence of being displeased at having so many public-houses in
his neighbourhood.
Malicious, and absurd as the accusation was, carrying with it its own
refutation, it found some who were weak or wicked enough to believe, or
however to repeat it. It was revived in the colony, and republished in
one of the Sydney newspapers after Mr. Marsden's death. Such is the
tenacity of slander. "Only throw mud enough," says the eloquent Mr.
Burke, "and some of it will be sure to stick." Mr. Marsden felt his
character so seriously compromised that he wrote home to the minister in
self-defence, and also addressed a statement of the case to the new
governor, Sir Thomas Brisbane. After showing the absurdity, and indeed
the impossibility, of the charge, since, in the first place, the
governor himself had granted a monopoly to certain contractors to
purchase and land all spirits brought to the colony, and that in the
second he had no licence, he adds: "Such is the watchful eye that was
kept upon my whole conduct by night and by day, if I had been guilty of
that or any other impropriety, it would have been impossible for me to
have escaped detection." So far as any pretence of truth could have been
urged in support of this foul slander, namely that "he kept a
public-house for the sale of ardent spirits, selling them in any
quantity from a pint to a puncheon," it may be stated in his own words:
"In the infancy of the colony, previously to my arrival, barter was
established among all classes from the governor downwards. As there was
neither beer nor milk, tea nor sugar, to be purchased at any price,
wine and spirits became the medium of exchange. As the colony
progressively advanced in agriculture, commerce, and wealth, barter
gradually decreased, and money transactions became more general. I can
affirm that for the last eighteen years I have not had in my possession
as much spirits as would allow my servants half a pint a head per week.
And at no period of my residence did I ever purchase spirits for
sale."[J]
[J] Rations of spirits, as in the navy, would seem at this time to
have been regularly served out to the servants and labourers in the
colony.
These were not the only troubles through which he was called to pass.
But enough has been said both to explain the difficulties in which Mr.
Marsden was placed and to clear his character from the vile aspersions
cast upon it. It is with pleasure that we turn from these false and
disgraceful charges to follow him in those Christian and philanthropic
pursuits which have given splendour to his name.
On the arrival of Sir Thomas Brisbane, in 1821, to assume the government
of New South Wales, Mr. Marsden immediately waited upon him, when he
received the assurance of his countenance and support, not only as a
colonial chaplain, but as the representative of the great missionary
work going forward in New Zealand. Such encouragement was opportune; he
thanked God and took courage; for the difficulties were great, and from
time to time grievous disappointments and vexations had occurred. It was
about this time that the seminary at Paramatta, for the education of New
Zealanders, was abandoned. It had its origin with Mr. Marsden, and was
conducted for some time in his own house. It was indeed one of his most
favourite plans, and its failure was a severe disappointment. It was
found, however, that the change of habits and of climate was injurious
to the health of the New Zealanders, while the results were not always
such as might have been desired. But nothing could damp his ardent zeal,
or quench his spirit of enterprise. "I see," he says, writing to his
friends at home, "the way preparing for the spread of the gospel. I feel
the fullest conviction that the South Sea Islands will now receive the
blessing of civilization and the gospel. The work is great, and many
difficulties may oppose it. The foundation is now firmly laid, and no
power on earth can overturn it. To impart these blessings to the New
Zealanders is an object worthy of the British nation: a more noble
undertaking could not be suggested to the Christian world." This at
least was not the mere declamation of the platform, but the deliberate
expression of the views of one who had toiled and suffered in the cause
for twenty years, and had scarcely been cheered, at present, with the
sight of a single New Zealand convert. "Here," at least, "is the
patience of the saints."
His home duties were not neglected; nor was his the easy philanthropy
which overlooks the humble claims of the rustic flock or obscure parish,
while it stalks abroad on some heroic enterprise which may feed the
vanity, while it satisfies the conscience, of the actor. Through his
exertions Paramatta had now its association in behalf of the Bible
Society, which already collected funds for the Parent Society in
England. An early report from this institution contains a remarkable
account of his visits to the sick bed of a young woman, whose experience
beautifully illustrates the text, that the Scripture "is able to make us
wise unto salvation through faith which is in Christ Jesus." It brings
the writer also before us incidentally as a spiritual pastor and an
enlightened minister of Christ.
"Some time ago," says Mr. Marsden, "I was called on to visit a young
woman, about twenty years of age, in one of our districts, who was
extremely ill, and who wished very much to see me before she died. On my
arrival at her father's house, I found her heavily afflicted, and death
appeared to be at no great distance. I sat by her bedside with the Bible
in my hand; expecting to find her, as I have but too often found others
in similar circumstances, ignorant of the first principles of religion.
"I read a portion of this sacred book to her, and was most agreeably
surprised to find that she not only understood the letter but the spirit
of the Scriptures.
"I asked her father how she became so well acquainted with the
Scriptures: he said he did not know--she was always reading her Bible at
every opportunity, and sometimes sat up whole nights for that purpose.
He observed, she was a very dutiful daughter: he had a large family, and
she, being the eldest, and very industrious, was of great service to her
mother and the younger branches of the family; the only indulgence which
she desired was to be allowed to read the Bible when her work was done;
but he could not account for her attachment to it; and it seemed very
strange to him that she should attend to it so much. I asked him if she
was in the habit of going to church, as I did not personally know her.
He said she went sometimes, but was generally prevented, from the
distance and the large family which she had to attend to.
"This young woman may be said to have obtained her religion wholly from
the Bible. None of the family knew anything of the Bible but herself. I
visited her during the whole of her sickness, from the time she sent for
me, until she fell asleep in Jesus. Her faith was simple, her views of
the way of salvation clear. She gave me many proofs of this, in the
various conversations which I had with her during her sickness. The
Bible was more precious to her than gold; she had found it, under the
influence of the Divine Spirit, her counsellor and her guide, and by it
she had been brought to a knowledge of the only true God, and Jesus
Christ whom he had sent; and hereby she was filled with a hope full of
immortality. Previously to her last sickness, she had enjoyed good
health: it was in the prime of youth and vigour that she had read her
Bible, and loved it, so that she had not to seek God, for the first
time, in this trying moment; but found him a present help in sickness
and in the approach of death. The Bible had testified of Christ to her:
she had found eternal life revealed therein; and the Divine promises
were both great and precious to her soul."
Such instances of faith, and of the happy effects of a simple reliance
upon the atonement, were at that time of rare occurrence in the colony.
Instances of conversion simply from the reading of the Scriptures are
not perhaps so rare as we generally suppose. Lieutenant Sadleir, who
himself resided at Paramatta, has remarked upon this occurrence: "It is
gratifying to the reflecting mind to observe such glimmerings of light
in the midst of so much darkness. Although found in obscurity and in the
cottage of the peasant, it proved that there were some who had not bowed
the knee to the Baal of universal licentiousness."
Mr. Marsden's anxiety for the female convicts was not to be abated by
ridicule or opposition. We find him, in August, 1822, addressing a
letter to Dr. Douglas, the police magistrate of Paramatta, on their
behalf. Some of the sentiments are beautifully touching. The substance
of the plea on their behalf is "that these poor creatures, who are
confined in the penitentiary, and who have committed no offence in these
settlements, be allowed the privilege of attending at least once on the
sabbath day on public worship." The request was surely reasonable, and
in urging it he rises to a pathetic eloquence: "There is no nation under
the heavens in whose bosom the wretched and unfortunate finds so warm a
reception as in our own. The unhappy situation of the female convicts
during their confinement in the different jails in the empire interests
the best feelings of the human heart. They are instructed by the
counsels of the wise, consoled by the prayers of the pious, softened by
the tears of the compassionate, and relieved by the alms of the
benevolent. The noble senator does not pass over their crimes and their
punishments unnoticed; he is anxious for the prevention of the former,
and the mitigation of the latter; nor does the wise politician consider
them beneath his care." He then speaks with natural exultation of "the
watchful eye with which the British government provides for their wants
and conveniences during their voyage to New South Wales, even more
liberally than for the brave soldiers and sailors who have fought the
battles of their country, and never violated its laws;" and then follows
a sentence which leaves us uncertain whether more to admire his
patriotism or the gentleness of his nature and the warmth of his heart:
"This apparently singular conduct may seem as if the British government
wished to encourage crime and afterwards reward it; but upon a nearer
view this principle of action will be found to spring spontaneously from
virtue, from that inherent, laudable, Christian compassion and anxiety,
which the father of the prodigal felt for his lost son, which kept alive
the spark of hope that he might one day return to his father's house and
be happy. This parable of our blessed Saviour's most beautifully
exhibits the character of the British nation towards her prodigal sons
and daughters, and is more honourable to her than all the victories she
has achieved by sea and land."
The welfare of the female convict population lay near to Mr. Marsden's
heart; scarcely his beloved New Zealanders and their missions engaged
more of his affection. His plans for the improvement of their temporal
condition, and his incessant labours for their spiritual welfare,
occupied no small portion of his time and thoughts; and there is good
reason to believe that his labours amongst these outcasts were not "in
vain in the Lord." Standing, as we should have thought, himself in need
of encouragement, he stimulated the languid zeal of others. Mrs. Fry and
other philanthropists were now engaged in their great work of amending
our prison discipline at home. We have inserted a letter from that
excellent lady to Mr. Marsden. His answer to it must have cheered her
spirits amidst the many disheartening toils to which she was exposed.
"The Wellington had just arrived when," he says, "I went on board, and
was highly gratified with the order which appears to have been
maintained in that vessel. I could not have conceived that any ship
could have been fitted up to have afforded such accommodation to the
unfortunate female exiles as the Wellington was. All the women looked
clean, healthy, and well. They had not that low, vicious, squalid, dirty
look which the women at former periods have had when they first arrived.
I believe there has been very great attention paid by the master and
surgeon to their morals and comfort, in every possible way. The very
sight of the arrangements of the vessel showed that the humane and
benevolent wishes of the Christian world had been carried into effect,
and proved beyond all contradiction that order and morality can be
maintained upon so long a voyage in a female convict ship.... The
present inquiry into the state of this colony, before the committee of
the House of Commons, will greatly benefit this country. I can speak
from painful experience that for the last twenty-six years, it has been
the most immoral, wretched society in all the Christian world. Those who
are intimate with the miseries and vices of large jails alone can form
any idea of the colony of New South Wales. I know what Newgate was when
I was in London, in the years 1808 and 1809. I was then in the habit of
seeing that miserable abode of vice and woe. What has since been done in
Newgate may be done elsewhere, if suitable means are adopted by those in
authority, seconded by individual exertions; much might be done in these
colonies towards restoring the poor exiles to society, with the
countenance and support of the government. Great evils are not removed
without great difficulties. When I visited the Wellington, I saw much
had been done in England, and more than I could have credited, had I not
been an eye witness of the situation of the females."
Sir Thomas Brisbane, the new governor, was not slow to perceive the
worth of services such as those which Mr. Marsden had rendered to the
colony, and pressed him to accept once more the office of a magistrate.
In reference to this, "I wish," says Mr. Marsden, in a letter to Dr.
Mason Good, "to avoid the office if I can; but I fear it will not be in
my power, without giving offence. The judges as well as the public and
the magistrates have urged me to take the bench at the present time." In
the same letter, he adds: "I feel happy that I have stood firm against
all calumnies and reproaches, and have been the instrument of bringing
to light the abominations that have been committed here: and some of the
evils are already remedied." The friends of religion and virtue in
England could not fail to sympathize with him, being well assured that
substantially he was fighting the cause of true piety and equal justice,
against profligacy and oppression. Mr. Wilberforce wrote to him in the
year 1823, with his usual warm affection:--
"Though I may be a somewhat doubtful and unfrequent correspondent,
I am not an uncertain friend; and where good will, as in your
instance, is grounded on early esteem, and cemented by the
consciousness of having many mutual friends, I should be ashamed
if that should suffer any decay from the impression not being
often renewed. It was with no small concern that I heard that
anything unpleasant had occurred. I had meant to endeavour to
obtain a sight of any letters or papers to our common friends, and
to have consulted with them whether any, and if any, what
measures, could be taken for the benefit of your colony, or in
your own support, which, without a compliment, I hold to be in a
degree coincident.... And now, my dear sir, farewell: but I ought
not to conclude without congratulating you on the progressive
advancement, as I trust, of the religious and moral interests of
your Australian world, and begging that you will always inform me
unreservedly whenever you conceive I can be of use publicly, or to
yourself personally.
"I remain, with much esteem and regard,
"My dear sir,
"Your sincere friend,
"W. WILBERFORCE."
The report of Commissioner Bigge was made public soon afterwards; and
with it the clouds which had gathered so long around the chaplain of
Paramatta were at last dispersed. He was too prominent a mark not to be
again assailed. Always in the front of the battle when the oppressed
required protection, or evil doers in high positions his bold assaults,
it was not in the nature of things that he should lead a very quiet
life. His calling was peculiar; so were his talents; and the latter were
admirably fitted for the former. But for the present his triumph was
complete, and the government at home appreciated his faithful service.
The document which follows requires no further comment. It was not
received till some time had elapsed, but we insert it here as a fitting
conclusion to the chapter:--
"Private Secretary's Office, Sydney, 9th April, 1825.
"REVEREND SIR,--I have the honour to acquaint you, by command of
his excellency the governor, that Earl Bathurst, having taken into
consideration your long and useful services in the colony of New
South Wales, has determined upon increasing your stipend to the
sum of four hundred pounds sterling, per annum.
"I have further the pleasing satisfaction of coupling with it his
lordship's instructions to the governor, to acquaint you that it
has been done in consideration of your long, laborious, and
praiseworthy exertions in behalf of religion and morality.
"I have the honour to be, reverend Sir,
"Your obedient servant,
"JOHN OVENS,
_Private Secretary._
"To the Rev. Samuel Marsden,
Principal Chaplain."