TAHITI AND NEW ZEALAND
Pass through the Low Archipelago—Tahiti—Aspect—Vegetation on the
mountains—View of Eimeo—Excursion into the interior—Profound
ravines—Succession of waterfalls—Number of wild useful
plants—Temperance of the inhabitants—Their moral state—Parliament
convened—New Zealand—Bay of islands—Hippahs—Excursion to
Waimate—Missionary establishment—English weeds now run
wild—Waiomio—Funeral of a New Zealand woman—Sail for Australia.
_October_ 20_th._—The survey of the Galapagos Archipelago being
concluded, we steered towards Tahiti and commenced our long passage of
3200 miles. In the course of a few days we sailed out of the gloomy and
clouded ocean-district which extends during the winter far from the
coast of South America. We then enjoyed bright and clear weather, while
running pleasantly along at the rate of 150 or 160 miles a day before
the steady trade-wind. The temperature in this more central part of the
Pacific is higher than near the American shore. The
thermometer in the poop cabin, by night and day, ranged between 80° and
83°, which feels very pleasant; but with one degree or two higher, the
heat becomes oppressive. We passed through the Low or Dangerous
Archipelago, and saw several of those most curious rings of coral land,
just rising above the water’s edge, which have been called Lagoon
Islands. A long and brilliantly-white beach is capped by a margin of
green vegetation; and the strip, looking either way, rapidly narrows
away in the distance, and sinks beneath the horizon. From the mast-head
a wide expanse of smooth water can be seen within the ring. These low
hollow coral islands bear no proportion to the vast ocean out of which
they abruptly rise; and it seems wonderful that such weak invaders are
not overwhelmed by the all-powerful and never-tiring waves of that
great sea, miscalled the Pacific.
_November_ 15_th._—At daylight, Tahiti, an island which must for ever
remain classical to the voyager in the South Sea, was in view. At a
distance the appearance was not attractive. The luxuriant vegetation of
the lower part could not yet be seen, and as the clouds rolled past,
the wildest and most precipitous peaks showed themselves towards the
centre of the island. As soon as we anchored in Matavai Bay, we were
surrounded by canoes. This was our Sunday, but the Monday of Tahiti: if
the case had been reversed, we should not have received a single visit;
for the injunction not to launch a canoe on the Sabbath is rigidly
obeyed. After dinner we landed to enjoy all the delights produced by
the first impressions of a new country, and that country the charming
Tahiti. A crowd of men, women, and children, was collected on the
memorable Point Venus, ready to receive us with laughing, merry faces.
They marshalled us towards the house of Mr. Wilson, the missionary of
the district, who met us on the road, and gave us a very friendly
reception. After sitting a short time in his house, we separated to
walk about, but returned there in the evening.
The land capable of cultivation is scarcely in any part more than a
fringe of low alluvial soil, accumulated round the base of the
mountains, and protected from the waves of the sea by a coral reef,
which encircles the entire line of coast. Within the reef there is an
expanse of smooth water, like that of a lake, where
the canoes of the natives can ply with safety and where ships anchor.
The low land which comes down to the beach of coral-sand is covered by
the most beautiful productions of the intertropical regions. In the
midst of bananas, orange, cocoa-nut, and bread-fruit trees, spots are
cleared where yams, sweet potatoes, the sugar-cane, and pine-apples are
cultivated. Even the brushwood is an imported fruit-tree, namely, the
guava, which from its abundance has become as noxious as a weed. In
Brazil I have often admired the varied beauty of the bananas, palms,
and orange-trees contrasted together; and here we also have the
bread-fruit, conspicuous from its large, glossy, and deeply digitated
leaf. It is admirable to behold groves of a tree, sending forth its
branches with the vigour of an English oak, loaded with large and most
nutritious fruit. However seldom the usefulness of an object can
account for the pleasure of beholding it, in the case of these
beautiful woods, the knowledge of their high productiveness no doubt
enters largely into the feeling of admiration. The little winding
paths, cool from the surrounding shade, led to the scattered houses;
the owners of which everywhere gave us a cheerful and most hospitable
reception.
I was pleased with nothing so much as with the inhabitants. There is a
mildness in the expression of their countenances which at once banishes
the idea of a savage; and an intelligence which shows that they are
advancing in civilisation. The common people, when working, keep the
upper part of their bodies quite naked; and it is then that the
Tahitians are seen to advantage. They are very tall, broad-shouldered,
athletic, and well-proportioned. It has been remarked that it requires
little habit to make a dark skin more pleasing and natural to the eye
of a European than his own colour. A white man bathing by the side of a
Tahitian was like a plant bleached by the gardener’s art compared with
a fine dark green one growing vigorously in the open fields. Most of
the men are tattooed, and the ornaments follow the curvature of the
body so gracefully that they have a very elegant effect. One common
pattern, varying in its details, is somewhat like the crown of a
palm-tree. It springs from the central line of the back, and gracefully
curls round both sides. The simile may be a fanciful one, but I thought
the body of a man thus ornamented
was like the trunk of a noble tree embraced by a delicate creeper.
Many of the elder people had their feet covered with small figures, so
placed as to resemble a sock. This fashion, however, is partly gone by,
and has been succeeded by others. Here, although fashion is far from
immutable, every one must abide by that prevailing in his youth. An old
man has thus his age for ever stamped on his body, and he cannot assume
the airs of a young dandy. The women are tattooed in the same manner as
the men, and very commonly on their fingers. One unbecoming fashion is
now almost universal: namely, shaving the hair from the upper part of
the head, in a circular form, so as to leave only an outer ring. The
missionaries have tried to persuade the people to change this habit;
but it is the fashion, and that is a sufficient answer at Tahiti, as
well as at Paris. I was much disappointed in the personal appearance of
the women: they are far inferior in every respect to the men. The
custom of wearing a white or scarlet flower in the back of the head, or
through a small hole in each ear, is pretty. A crown of woven cocoa-nut
leaves is also worn as a shade for the eyes. The women appear to be in
greater want of some becoming costume even than the men.
Nearly all the natives understand a little English—that is, they know
the names of common things; and by the aid of this, together with
signs, a lame sort of conversation could be carried on. In returning in
the evening to the boat, we stopped to witness a very pretty scene.
Numbers of children were playing on the beach, and had lighted bonfires
which illumined the placid sea and surrounding trees; others, in
circles, were singing Tahitian verses. We seated ourselves on the sand,
and joined their party. The songs were impromptu, and I believe related
to our arrival: one little girl sang a line, which the rest took up in
parts, forming a very pretty chorus. The whole scene made us
unequivocally aware that we were seated on the shores of an island in
the far-famed South Sea.
17_th._—This day is reckoned in the log-book as Tuesday the 17th,
instead of Monday the 16th, owing to our, so far, successful chase of
the sun. Before breakfast the ship was hemmed in by a flotilla of
canoes; and when the natives were allowed to come on board, I suppose
there could not have
been less than two hundred. It was the opinion of every one that it
would have been difficult to have picked out an equal number from any
other nation, who would have given so little trouble. Everybody brought
something for sale: shells were the main article of trade. The
Tahitians now fully understand the value of money, and prefer it to old
clothes or other articles. The various coins, however, of English and
Spanish denomination puzzle them, and they never seemed to think the
small silver quite secure until changed into dollars. Some of the
chiefs have accumulated considerable sums of money. One chief, not long
since, offered 800 dollars (about £160 sterling) for a small vessel;
and frequently they purchase whale-boats and horses at the rate of from
50 to 100 dollars.
After breakfast I went on shore, and ascended the nearest slope to a
height of between two and three thousand feet. The outer mountains are
smooth and conical, but steep; and the old volcanic rocks, of which
they are formed, have been cut through by many profound ravines,
diverging from the central broken parts of the island to the coast.
Having crossed the narrow low girt of inhabited and fertile land, I
followed a smooth steep ridge between two of the deep ravines. The
vegetation was singular, consisting almost exclusively of small dwarf
ferns, mingled, higher up, with coarse grass; it was not very
dissimilar from that on some of the Welsh hills, and this so close
above the orchard of tropical plants on the coast was very surprising.
At the highest point which I reached trees again appeared. Of the three
zones of comparative luxuriance, the lower one owes its moisture, and
therefore fertility, to its flatness; for, being scarcely raised above
the level of the sea, the water from the higher land drains away
slowly. The intermediate zone does not, like the upper one, reach into
a damp and cloudy atmosphere, and therefore remains sterile. The woods
in the upper zone are very pretty, tree-ferns replacing the cocoa-nuts
on the coast. It must not, however, be supposed that these woods at all
equal in splendour the forests of Brazil. The vast number of
productions, which characterise a continent, cannot be expected to
occur in an island.
Eimeo and Barrier-Reef
From the highest point which I attained there was a good view of the
distant island of Eimeo, dependent on the same
sovereign with Tahiti. On the lofty and broken pinnacles white massive
clouds were piled up, which formed an island in the blue sky, as Eimeo
itself did in the blue ocean. The island, with the exception of one
small gateway, is completely encircled by a reef. At this distance, a
narrow but well-defined brilliantly white line was alone visible, where
the waves first encountered the wall of coral. The mountains rose
abruptly out of the glassy expanse of the lagoon, included within this
narrow white line, outside which the heaving waters of the ocean were
dark-coloured. The view was striking: it may aptly be compared to a
framed engraving, where the frame represents the breakers, the marginal
paper the smooth lagoon, and the drawing the island itself. When in the
evening I descended from the mountain, a man, whom I had pleased with a
trifling gift, met me, bringing with him hot roasted bananas, a
pine-apple, and cocoa-nuts. After walking under a burning sun, I do not
know anything more delicious than the milk of a young cocoa-nut.
Pine-apples are here so abundant that the people eat them in the same
wasteful manner as we might turnips. They are of an excellent
flavour—perhaps even better than those cultivated in England; and this
I believe is the highest compliment which can be paid to any fruit.
Before going on board, Mr. Wilson interpreted for me to the Tahitian
who had paid me so adroit an attention, that I wanted him and another
man to accompany me on a short excursion into the mountains.
18_th._—In the morning I came on shore early, bringing with me some
provisions in a bag, and two blankets for myself and servant. These
were lashed to each end of a long pole, which was alternately carried
by my Tahitian companions on their shoulders. These men are accustomed
thus to carry, for a whole day, as much as fifty pounds at each end of
their poles. I told my guides to provide themselves with food and
clothing; but they said that there was plenty of food in the mountains,
and for clothing, that their skins were sufficient. Our line of march
was the valley of Tia-auru, down which a river flows into the sea by
Point Venus. This is one of the principal streams in the island, and
its source lies at the base of the loftiest central pinnacles, which
rise to a height of about
7000 feet. The whole island is so mountainous that the only way to
penetrate into the interior is to follow up the valleys. Our road, at
first, lay through woods which bordered each side of the river; and the
glimpses of the lofty central peaks, seen as through an avenue, with
here and there a waving cocoa-nut tree on one side, were extremely
picturesque. The valley soon began to narrow, and the sides to grow
lofty and more precipitous. After having walked between three and four
hours, we found the width of the ravine scarcely exceeded that of the
bed of the stream. On each hand the walls were nearly vertical; yet
from the soft nature of the volcanic strata, trees and a rank
vegetation sprung from every projecting ledge. These precipices must
have been some thousand feet high; and the whole formed a mountain
gorge far more magnificent than anything which I had ever before
beheld. Until the mid-day sun stood vertically over the ravine, the air
felt cool and damp, but now it became very sultry. Shaded by a ledge of
rock, beneath a façade of columnar lava, we ate our dinner. My guides
had already procured a dish of small fish and fresh-water prawns. They
carried with them a small net stretched on a hoop; and where the water
was deep and in eddies, they dived, and like otters, with their eyes
open followed the fish into holes and corners, and thus caught them.
The Tahitians have the dexterity of amphibious animals in the water. An
anecdote mentioned by Ellis shows how much they feel at home in this
element. When a horse was landing for Pomarre in 1817, the slings
broke, and it fell into the water; immediately the natives jumped
overboard, and by their cries and vain efforts at assistance almost
drowned it. As soon, however, as it reached the shore, the whole
population took to flight, and tried to hide themselves from the
man-carrying pig, as they christened the horse.
A little higher up, the river divided itself into three little streams.
The two northern ones were impracticable, owing to a succession of
waterfalls which descended from the jagged summit of the highest
mountain; the other to all appearance was equally inaccessible, but we
managed to ascend it by a most extraordinary road. The sides of the
valley were here nearly precipitous; but, as frequently happens with
stratified rocks, small ledges projected, which were thickly covered by
wild bananas, liliaceous plants, and other luxuriant productions of the
tropics. The Tahitians, by climbing amongst these ledges, searching for
fruit, had discovered a track by which the whole precipice could be
scaled. The first ascent from the valley was very dangerous; for it was
necessary to pass a steeply inclined face of naked rock by the aid of
ropes which we brought with us. How any person discovered that this
formidable spot was the only point where the side of the mountain was
practicable, I cannot imagine. We then cautiously walked along one of
the ledges till we came to one of the three streams. This ledge formed
a flat spot above which a beautiful cascade, some hundred feet in
height, poured down its waters, and beneath, another high cascade fell
into the main stream in the valley below. From this cool and shady
recess we made a circuit to avoid the overhanging waterfall. As before,
we followed little projecting ledges, the danger being partly concealed
by the thickness of the vegetation. In passing from one of the ledges
to another there was a vertical wall of rock. One of the Tahitians, a
fine active man, placed the trunk of a tree against this, climbed up
it, and then by the aid of crevices reached the summit. He fixed the
ropes to a projecting point, and lowered them for our dog and luggage,
and then we clambered up ourselves. Beneath the ledge on which the dead
tree was placed, the precipice must have been five or six hundred feet
deep; and if the abyss had not been partly concealed by the overhanging
ferns and lilies my head would have turned giddy, and nothing should
have induced me to have attempted it. We continued to ascend, sometimes
along ledges, and sometimes along knife-edged ridges, having on each
hand profound ravines. In the Cordillera I have seen mountains on a far
grander scale, but for abruptness nothing at all comparable with this.
In the evening we reached a flat little spot on the banks of the same
stream which we had continued to follow, and which descends in a chain
of waterfalls: here we bivouacked for the night. On each side of the
ravine there were great beds of the mountain-banana, covered with ripe
fruit. Many of these plants were from twenty to twenty-five feet high,
and from three to four in circumference. By the aid of strips of bark
for rope, the stems of bamboos for rafters, and the large leaf of
the banana for a thatch, the Tahitians in a few minutes built us an
excellent house; and with withered leaves made a soft bed.
Fatahua Fall, Tahiti
They then proceeded to make a fire, and cook our evening meal. A light
was procured by rubbing a blunt pointed stick in a groove made in
another, as if with intention of deepening it, until by the friction
the dust became ignited. A peculiarly white and very light wood (the
Hibiscus tiliaceus) is alone used for this purpose: it is the same
which serves for poles to carry any burden, and for the floating
out-riggers to their canoes. The fire was produced in a few seconds:
but to a person who does not understand the art, it requires, as I
found, the greatest exertion; but at last, to my great pride, I
succeeded in igniting the dust. The Gaucho in the Pampas uses a
different method: taking an elastic stick about eighteen inches long,
he presses one end on his breast, and the other pointed end into a hole
in a piece of wood, and then rapidly turns the curved part like a
carpenter’s centre-bit. The Tahitians having made a small fire of
sticks, placed a score of stones of about the size of cricket-balls, on
the burning wood. In about ten minutes the sticks were consumed, and
the stones hot. They had previously folded up in small parcels of
leaves, pieces of beef, fish, ripe and unripe bananas, and the tops of
the wild arum. These green parcels were laid in a layer between two
layers of the hot stones, and the whole then covered up with earth, so
that no smoke or steam could escape. In about a quarter of an hour the
whole was most deliciously cooked. The choice green parcels were now
laid on a cloth of banana leaves, and with a cocoa-nut shell we drank
the cool water of the running stream; and thus we enjoyed our rustic
meal.
I could not look on the surrounding plants without admiration. On every
side were forests of bananas; the fruit of which, though serving for
food in various ways, lay in heaps decaying on the ground. In front of
us there was an extensive brake of wild sugar-cane; and the stream was
shaded by the dark green knotted stem of the Ava,—so famous in former
days for its powerful intoxicating effects. I chewed a piece, and found
that it had an acrid and unpleasant taste, which would have induced any
one at once to have pronounced it poisonous. Thanks to the
missionaries, this plant now thrives
only in these deep ravines, innocuous to every one. Close by I saw the
wild arum, the roots of which, when well baked, are good to eat, and
the young leaves better than spinach. There was the wild yam, and a
liliaceous plant called Ti, which grows in abundance, and has a soft
brown root, in shape and size like a huge log of wood: this served us
for dessert, for it is as sweet as treacle, and with a pleasant taste.
There were, moreover, several other wild fruits, and useful vegetables.
The little stream, besides its cool water, produced eels and crayfish.
I did indeed admire this scene, when I compared it with an uncultivated
one in the temperate zones. I felt the force of the remark that man, at
least savage man, with his reasoning powers only partly developed, is
the child of the tropics.
As the evening drew to a close, I strolled beneath the gloomy shade of
the bananas up the course of the stream. My walk was soon brought to a
close by coming to a waterfall between two and three hundred feet high;
and again above this there was another. I mention all these waterfalls
in this one brook to give a general idea of the inclination of the
land. In the little recess where the water fell, it did not appear that
a breath of wind had ever blown. The thin edges of the great leaves of
the banana, damp with spray, were unbroken, instead of being, as is so
generally the case, split into a thousand shreds. From our position,
almost suspended on the mountain-side, there were glimpses into the
depths of the neighbouring valleys; and the lofty points of the central
mountains, towering up within sixty degrees of the zenith, hid half the
evening sky. Thus seated, it was a sublime spectacle to watch the
shades of night gradually obscuring the last and highest pinnacles.
Before we laid ourselves down to sleep, the elder Tahitian fell on his
knees, and with closed eyes repeated a long prayer in his native
tongue. He prayed as a Christian should do, with fitting reverence, and
without the fear of ridicule or any ostentation of piety. At our meals
neither of the men would taste food, without saying beforehand a short
grace. Those travellers who think that a Tahitian prays only when the
eyes of the missionary are fixed on him, should have slept with us that
night on the mountain-side. Before morning it rained
very heavily; but the good thatch of banana-leaves kept us dry.
[Illustration]
_November_ 19_th._—At daylight my friends, after their morning prayer,
prepared an excellent breakfast in the same manner as in the evening.
They themselves certainly partook of it largely; indeed I never saw any
men eat near so much. I suppose such enormously capacious stomachs must
be the effect of a large part of their diet consisting of fruit and
vegetables which contain, in a given bulk, a comparatively small
portion of nutriment. Unwittingly, I was the means of my companions
breaking, as I afterwards learned, one of their own laws and
resolutions: I took with me a flask of spirits, which they could not
refuse to partake of; but as often as they drank a little, they put
their fingers before their mouths, and uttered the word “Missionary.”
About two years ago, although the use of the ava was prevented,
drunkenness from the introduction of spirits became very prevalent. The
missionaries prevailed on a few good men who saw that their country was
rapidly going to ruin, to join with them in a Temperance Society. From
good sense or shame, all the chiefs and the queen were at last
persuaded to join. Immediately a law was passed that no spirits should
be allowed to be introduced into the island, and that he who sold and
he who bought the forbidden article should be punished by a fine. With
remarkable justice, a
certain period was allowed for stock in hand to be sold, before the law
came into effect. But when it did, a general search was made, in which
even the houses of the missionaries were not exempted, and all the ava
(as the natives call all ardent spirits) was poured on the ground. When
one reflects on the effect of intemperance on the aborigines of the two
Americas, I think it will be acknowledged that every well-wisher of
Tahiti owes no common debt of gratitude to the missionaries. As long as
the little island of St. Helena remained under the government of the
East India Company, spirits, owing to the great injury they had
produced, were not allowed to be imported; but wine was supplied from
the Cape of Good Hope. It is rather a striking, and not very gratifying
fact, that in the same year that spirits were allowed to be sold in St.
Helena, their use was banished from Tahiti by the free will of the
people.
After breakfast we proceeded on our journey. As my object was merely to
see a little of the interior scenery, we returned by another track,
which descended into the main valley lower down. For some distance we
wound, by a most intricate path, along the side of the mountain which
formed the valley. In the less precipitous parts we passed through
extensive groves of the wild banana. The Tahitians, with their naked,
tattooed bodies, their heads ornamented with flowers, and seen in the
dark shade of these groves, would have formed a fine picture of man
inhabiting some primeval land. In our descent we followed the line of
ridges; these were exceedingly narrow, and for considerable lengths
steep as a ladder; but all clothed with vegetation. The extreme care
necessary in poising each step rendered the walk fatiguing. I did not
cease to wonder at these ravines and precipices: when viewing the
country from one of the knife-edged ridges, the point of support was so
small that the effect was nearly the same as it must be from a balloon.
In this descent we had occasion to use the ropes only once, at the
point where we entered the main valley. We slept under the same ledge
of rock where we had dined the day before: the night was fine, but from
the depth and narrowness of the gorge, profoundly dark.
Before actually seeing this country, I found it difficult to understand
two facts mentioned by Ellis; namely, that after
the murderous battles of former times, the survivors on the conquered
side retired into the mountains, where a handful of men could resist a
multitude. Certainly half a dozen men, at the spot where the Tahitian
reared the old tree, could easily have repulsed thousands. Secondly,
that after the introduction of Christianity, there were wild men who
lived in the mountains, and whose retreats were unknown to the more
civilised inhabitants.
_November_ 20_th._—In the morning we started early, and reached Matavai
at noon. On the road we met a large party of noble athletic men, going
for wild bananas. I found that the ship, on account of the difficulty
in watering, had moved to the harbour of Papawa, to which place I
immediately walked. This is a very pretty spot. The cove is surrounded
by reefs, and the water as smooth as in a lake. The cultivated ground,
with its beautiful productions, interspersed with cottages, comes close
down to the water’s edge.
From the varying accounts which I had read before reaching these
islands, I was very anxious to form, from my own observation, a
judgment of their moral state,—although such judgment would necessarily
be very imperfect. First impressions at all times very much depend on
one’s previously acquired ideas. My notions were drawn from Ellis’s
_Polynesian Researches_—an admirable and most interesting work, but
naturally looking at everything under a favourable point of view, from
Beechey’s _Voyage;_ and from that of Kotzebue, which is strongly
adverse to the whole missionary system. He who compares these three
accounts will, I think, form a tolerably accurate conception of the
present state of Tahiti. One of my impressions, which I took from the
two last authorities, was decidedly incorrect; namely, that the
Tahitians had become a gloomy race, and lived in fear of the
missionaries. Of the latter feeling I saw no trace, unless, indeed,
fear and respect be confounded under one name. Instead of discontent
being a common feeling, it would be difficult in Europe to pick out of
a crowd half so many merry and happy faces. The prohibition of the
flute and dancing is inveighed against as wrong and foolish;—the more
than presbyterian manner of keeping the Sabbath is looked at in a
similar light. On
these points I will not pretend to offer any opinion, in opposition to
men who have resided as many years as I was days on the island.
On the whole, it appears to me that the morality and religion of the
inhabitants are highly creditable. There are many who attack, even more
acrimoniously than Kotzebue, both the missionaries, their system, and
the effects produced by it. Such reasoners never compare the present
state with that of the island only twenty years ago; nor even with that
of Europe at this day; but they compare it with the high standard of
Gospel perfection. They expect the missionaries to effect that which
the Apostles themselves failed to do. Inasmuch as the condition of the
people falls short of this high standard, blame is attached to the
missionary, instead of credit for that which he has effected. They
forget, or will not remember, that human sacrifices, and the power of
an idolatrous priesthood—a system of profligacy unparalleled in any
other part of the world—infanticide a consequence of that system—bloody
wars, where the conquerors spared neither women nor children—that all
these have been abolished; and that dishonesty, intemperance, and
licentiousness have been greatly reduced by the introduction of
Christianity. In a voyager to forget these things is base ingratitude;
for should he chance to be at the point of shipwreck on some unknown
coast, he will most devoutly pray that the lesson of the missionary may
have extended thus far.
In point of morality, the virtue of the women, it has been often said,
is most open to exception. But before they are blamed too severely, it
will be well distinctly to call to mind the scenes described by Captain
Cook and Mr. Banks, in which the grandmothers and mothers of the
present race played a part. Those who are most severe, should consider
how much of the morality of the women in Europe is owing to the system
early impressed by mothers on their daughters, and how much in each
individual case to the precepts of religion. But it is useless to argue
against such reasoners;—I believe that, disappointed in not finding the
field of licentiousness quite so open as formerly, they will not give
credit to a morality which they do not wish to practise, or to a
religion which they undervalue, if not despise.
_Sunday_ 22_nd._—The harbour of Papiéte, where the queen resides, may
be considered as the capital of the island: it is also the seat of
government, and the chief resort of shipping. Captain Fitz Roy took a
party there this day to hear divine service, first in the Tahitian
language, and afterwards in our own. Mr. Pritchard, the leading
missionary in the island, performed the service. The chapel consisted
of a large airy framework of wood; and it was filled to excess by tidy,
clean people, of all ages and both sexes. I was rather disappointed in
the apparent degree of attention; but I believe my expectations were
raised too high. At all events the appearance was quite equal to that
in a country church in England. The singing of the hymns was decidedly
very pleasing, but the language from the pulpit, although fluently
delivered, did not sound well: a constant repetition of words, like
“_tata ta, mata mai,_” rendered it monotonous. After English service, a
party returned on foot to Matavai. It was a pleasant walk, sometimes
along the sea-beach and sometimes under the shade of the many beautiful
trees.
About two years ago, a small vessel under English colours was plundered
by some of the inhabitants of the Low Islands, which were then under
the dominion of the Queen of Tahiti. It was believed that the
perpetrators were instigated to this act by some indiscreet laws issued
by her majesty. The British government demanded compensation; which was
acceded to, and a sum of nearly three thousand dollars was agreed to be
paid on the first of last September. The Commodore at Lima ordered
Captain Fitz Roy to inquire concerning this debt, and to demand
satisfaction if it were not paid. Captain Fitz Roy accordingly
requested an interview with the Queen Pomarre, since famous from the
ill-treatment she has received from the French; and a parliament was
held to consider the question, at which all the principal chiefs of the
island and the queen were assembled. I will not attempt to describe
what took place, after the interesting account given by Captain Fitz
Roy. The money, it appeared, had not been paid; perhaps the alleged
reasons were rather equivocal; but otherwise I cannot sufficiently
express our general surprise at the extreme good sense, the reasoning
powers, moderation, candour, and prompt resolution, which were
displayed on all sides. I believe we all left the
meeting with a very different opinion of the Tahitians from what we
entertained when we entered. The chiefs and people resolved to
subscribe and complete the sum which was wanting; Captain Fitz Roy
urged that it was hard that their private property should be sacrificed
for the crimes of distant islanders. They replied that they were
grateful for his consideration, but that Pomarre was their Queen, and
that they were determined to help her in this her difficulty. This
resolution and its prompt execution, for a book was opened early the
next morning, made a perfect conclusion to this very remarkable scene
of loyalty and good feeling.
After the main discussion was ended, several of the chiefs took the
opportunity of asking Captain Fitz Roy many intelligent questions on
international customs and laws, relating to the treatment of ships and
foreigners. On some points, as soon as the decision was made, the law
was issued verbally on the spot. This Tahitian parliament lasted for
several hours; and when it was over Captain Fitz Roy invited Queen
Pomarre to pay the _Beagle_ a visit.
_November_ 25_th._—In the evening four boats were sent for her majesty;
the ship was dressed with flags, and the yards manned on her coming on
board. She was accompanied by most of the chiefs. The behaviour of all
was very proper: they begged for nothing, and seemed much pleased with
Captain Fitz Roy’s presents. The Queen is a large awkward woman,
without any beauty, grace or dignity. She has only one royal attribute:
a perfect immovability of expression under all circumstances, and that
rather a sullen one. The rockets were most admired, and a deep “Oh!”
could be heard from the shore, all round the dark bay, after each
explosion. The sailors’ songs were also much admired; and the queen
said she thought that one of the most boisterous ones certainly could
not be a hymn! The royal party did not return on shore till past
midnight.
26_th._—In the evening, with a gentle land-breeze, a course was steered
for New Zealand; and as the sun set, we had a farewell view of the
mountains of Tahiti—the island to which every voyager has offered up
his tribute of admiration.
_December_ 19_th._—In the evening we saw in the distance New Zealand.
We may now consider that we have nearly crossed the Pacific. It is
necessary to sail over this great ocean to comprehend its immensity.
Moving quickly onwards for weeks together, we meet with nothing but the
same blue, profoundly deep, ocean. Even within the archipelagoes, the
islands are mere specks, and far distant one from the other. Accustomed
to look at maps drawn on a small scale, where dots, shading, and names
are crowded together, we do not rightly judge how infinitely small the
proportion of dry land is to the water of this vast expanse. The
meridian of the Antipodes has likewise been passed; and now every
league, it made us happy to think, was one league nearer to England.
These Antipodes call to one’s mind old recollections of childish doubt
and wonder. Only the other day I looked forward to this airy barrier as
a definite point in our voyage homewards; but now I find it, and all
such resting-places for the imagination, are like shadows, which a man
moving onwards cannot catch. A gale of wind lasting for some days has
lately given us full leisure to measure the future stages in our
homeward voyage, and to wish most earnestly for its termination.
_December_ 21_st._—Early in the morning we entered the Bay of Islands,
and being becalmed for some hours near the mouth, we did not reach the
anchorage till the middle of the day. The country is hilly, with a
smooth outline, and is deeply intersected by numerous arms of the sea
extending from the bay. The surface appears from a distance as if
clothed with coarse pasture, but this in truth is nothing but fern. On
the more distant hills, as well as in parts of the valleys, there is a
good deal of woodland. The general tint of the landscape is not a
bright green; and it resembles the country a short distance to the
south of Concepcion in Chile. In several parts of the bay little
villages of square tidy-looking houses are scattered close down to the
water’s edge. Three whaling-ships were lying at anchor, and a canoe
every now and then crossed from shore to shore; with these exceptions,
an air of extreme quietness reigned over the whole district. Only a
single canoe came alongside. This, and the aspect of the whole scene,
afforded a remarkable, and not very pleasing contrast, with our joyful
and boisterous welcome at Tahiti.
In the afternoon we went on shore to one of the larger groups of
houses, which yet hardly deserves the title of a village. Its name is
Pahia: it is the residence of the missionaries; and there are no native
residents except servants and labourers. In the vicinity of the Bay of
Islands the number of Englishmen, including their families, amounts to
between two and three hundred. All the cottages, many of which are
whitewashed and look very neat, are the property of the English. The
hovels of the natives are so diminutive and paltry that they can
scarcely be perceived from a distance. At Pahia it was quite pleasing
to behold the English flowers in the gardens before the houses; there
were roses of several kinds, honeysuckle, jasmine, stocks, and whole
hedges of sweetbriar.
_December_ 22_nd._—In the morning I went out walking; but I soon found
that the country was very impracticable. All the hills are thickly
covered with tall fern, together with a low bush which grows like a
cypress; and very little ground has been cleared or cultivated. I then
tried the sea-beach; but proceeding towards either hand, my walk was
soon stopped by salt-water creeks and deep brooks. The communication
between the inhabitants of the different parts of the bay is (as in
Chiloe) almost entirely kept up by boats. I was surprised to find that
almost every hill which I ascended had been at some former time more or
less fortified. The summits were cut into steps or successive terraces,
and frequently they had been protected by deep trenches. I afterwards
observed that the principal hills inland in like manner showed an
artificial outline. These are the Pas, so frequently mentioned by
Captain Cook under the name of “hippah;” the difference of sound being
owing to the prefixed article.
That the Pas had formerly been much used was evident from the piles of
shells, and the pits in which, as I was informed, sweet potatoes used
to be kept as a reserve. As there was no water on these hills, the
defenders could never have anticipated a long siege, but only a hurried
attack for plunder, against which the successive terraces would have
afforded good protection. The general introduction of firearms has
changed the whole system of warfare; and an exposed situation on the
top of a hill is now worse than useless. The Pas in consequence are, at
the present day, always built on a level piece of ground. They consist
of a double stockade of thick and tall posts, placed in a zigzag line,
so that every part can be flanked. Within the stockade a mound of earth
is thrown up, behind which the defenders can rest in safety, or use
their firearms over it. On the level of the ground little archways
sometimes pass through this breastwork, by which means the defenders
can crawl out to the stockade and reconnoitre their enemies. The
Reverend W. Williams, who gave me this account, added that in one Pas
he had noticed spurs or buttresses projecting on the inner and
protected side of the mound of earth. On asking the chief the use of
them, he replied, that if two or three of his men were shot their
neighbours would not see the bodies, and so be discouraged.
These Pas are considered by the New Zealanders as very perfect means of
defence: for the attacking force is never so well disciplined as to
rush in a body to the stockade, cut it down, and effect their entry.
When a tribe goes to war, the chief cannot order one party to go here
and another there; but every man fights in the manner which best
pleases himself; and to each separate individual to approach a stockade
defended by firearms must appear certain death. I should think a more
warlike race of inhabitants could not be found in any part of the world
than the New Zealanders. Their conduct on first seeing a ship, as
described by Captain Cook, strongly illustrates this: the act of
throwing volleys of stones at so great and novel an object, and their
defiance of “Come on shore and we will kill and eat you all,” shows
uncommon boldness. This warlike spirit is evident in many of their
customs, and even in their smallest actions. If a New Zealander is
struck, although but in joke, the blow must be returned; and of this I
saw an instance with one of our officers.
At the present day, from the progress of civilisation, there is much
less warfare, except among some of the southern tribes. I heard a
characteristic anecdote of what took place some time ago in the south.
A missionary found a chief and his tribe in
preparation for war;—their muskets clean and bright, and their
ammunition ready. He reasoned long on the inutility of the war, and the
little provocation which had been given for it. The chief was much
shaken in his resolution, and seemed in doubt: but at length it
occurred to him that a barrel of his gunpowder was in a bad state, and
that it would not keep much longer. This was brought forward as an
unanswerable argument for the necessity of immediately declaring war:
the idea of allowing so much good gunpowder to spoil was not to be
thought of; and this settled the point. I was told by the missionaries
that in the life of Shongi, the chief who visited England, the love of
war was the one and lasting spring of every action. The tribe in which
he was a principal chief had at one time been much oppressed by another
tribe from the Thames River. A solemn oath was taken by the men that
when their boys should grow up, and they should be powerful enough,
they would never forget or forgive these injuries. To fulfil this oath
appears to have been Shongi’s chief motive for going to England; and
when there it was his sole object. Presents were valued only as they
could be converted into arms; of the arts, those alone interested him
which were connected with the manufacture of arms. When at Sydney,
Shongi, by a strange coincidence, met the hostile chief of the Thames
River at the house of Mr. Marsden: their conduct was civil to each
other; but Shongi told him that when again in New Zealand he would
never cease to carry war into his country. The challenge was accepted;
and Shongi on his return fulfilled the threat to the utmost letter. The
tribe on the Thames River was utterly overthrown, and the chief to whom
the challenge had been given was himself killed. Shongi, although
harbouring such deep feelings of hatred and revenge, is described as
having been a good-natured person.
In the evening I went with Captain Fitz Roy and Mr. Baker, one of the
missionaries, to pay a visit to Kororadika: we wandered about the
village, and saw and conversed with many of the people, both men,
women, and children. Looking at the New Zealander, one naturally
compares him with the Tahitian; both belonging to the same family of
mankind. The comparison, however, tells heavily against the New
Zealander. He may, perhaps be superior in energy, but in
every other respect his character is of a much lower order. One glance
at their respective expressions brings conviction to the mind that one
is a savage, the other a civilised man. It would be vain to seek in the
whole of New Zealand a person with the face and mien of the old
Tahitian chief Utamme. No doubt the extraordinary manner in which
tattooing is here practised gives a disagreeable expression to their
countenances. The complicated but symmetrical figures covering the
whole face puzzle and mislead an unaccustomed eye: it is moreover
probable that the deep incisions, by destroying the play of the
superficial muscles, give an air of rigid inflexibility. But, besides
this, there is a twinkling in the eye which cannot indicate anything
but cunning and ferocity. Their figures are tall and bulky; but not
comparable in elegance with those of the working-classes in Tahiti.
Both their persons and houses are filthily dirty and offensive: the
idea of washing either their bodies or their clothes never seems to
enter their heads. I saw a chief, who was wearing a shirt black and
matted with filth, and when asked how it came to be so dirty, he
replied, with surprise, “Do not you see it is an old one?” Some of the
men have shirts; but the common dress is one or two large blankets,
generally black with dirt, which are thrown over their shoulders in a
very inconvenient and awkward fashion. A few of the principal chiefs
have decent suits of English clothes; but these are only worn on great
occasions.
_December_ 23_rd._—At a place called Waimate, about fifteen miles from
the Bay of Islands, and midway between the eastern and western coasts,
the missionaries have purchased some land for agricultural purposes. I
had been introduced to the Reverend W. Williams, who, upon my
expressing a wish, invited me to pay him a visit there. Mr. Bushby, the
British resident, offered to take me in his boat by a creek, where I
should see a pretty waterfall, and by which means my walk would be
shortened. He likewise procured for me a guide. Upon asking a
neighbouring chief to recommend a man, the chief himself offered to go;
but his ignorance of the value of money was so complete, that at first
he asked how many pounds I would give him, but afterwards was well
contented
with two dollars. When I showed the chief a very small bundle which I
wanted carried, it became absolutely necessary for him to take a slave.
These feelings of pride are beginning to wear away; but formerly a
leading man would sooner have died than undergone the indignity of
carrying the smallest burden. My companion was a light active man,
dressed in a dirty blanket, and with his face completely tattooed. He
had formerly been a great warrior. He appeared to be on very cordial
terms with Mr. Bushby; but at various times they had quarrelled
violently. Mr. Bushby remarked that a little quiet irony would
frequently silence any one of these natives in their most blustering
moments. This chief has come and harangued Mr. Bushby in a hectoring
manner, saying, “A great chief, a great man, a friend of mine, has come
to pay me a visit—you must give him something good to eat, some fine
presents, etc.” Mr. Bushby has allowed him to finish his discourse, and
then has quietly replied by some answer such as, “What else shall your
slave do for you?” The man would then instantly, with a very comical
expression, cease his braggadocio.
Some time ago Mr. Bushby suffered a far more serious attack. A chief
and a party of men tried to break into his house in the middle of the
night, and not finding this so easy, commenced a brisk firing with
their muskets. Mr. Bushby was slightly wounded, but the party was at
length driven away. Shortly afterwards it was discovered who was the
aggressor; and a general meeting of the chiefs was convened to consider
the case. It was considered by the New Zealanders as very atrocious,
inasmuch as it was a night attack, and that Mrs. Bushby was lying ill
in the house: this latter circumstance, much to their honour, being
considered in all cases as a protection. The chiefs agreed to
confiscate the land of the aggressor to the King of England. The whole
proceeding, however, in thus trying and punishing a chief was entirely
without precedent. The aggressor, moreover, lost caste in the
estimation of his equals; and this was considered by the British as of
more consequence than the confiscation of his land.
As the boat was shoving off, a second chief stepped into her, who only
wanted the amusement of the passage up and down the creek. I never saw
a more horrid and ferocious
expression than this man had. It immediately struck me I had somewhere
seen his likeness: it will be found in Retzch’s outlines to Schiller’s
ballad of Fridolin, where two men are pushing Robert into the burning
iron furnace. It is the man who has his arm on Robert’s breast.
Physiognomy here spoke the truth; this chief had been a notorious
murderer, and was an arrant coward to boot. At the point where the boat
landed, Mr. Bushby accompanied me a few hundred yards on the road: I
could not help admiring the cool impudence of the hoary old villain,
whom we left lying in the boat, when he shouted to Mr. Bushby, “Do not
you stay long, I shall be tired of waiting here.”
We now commenced our walk. The road lay along a well-beaten path,
bordered on each side by the tall fern which covers the whole country.
After travelling some miles we came to a little country village, where
a few hovels were collected together, and some patches of ground
cultivated with potatoes. The introduction of the potato has been the
most essential benefit to the island; it is now much more used than any
native vegetable. New Zealand is favoured by one great natural
advantage; namely, that the inhabitants can never perish from famine.
The whole country abounds with fern: and the roots of this plant, if
not very palatable, yet contain much nutriment. A native can always
subsist on these, and on the shell-fish which are abundant on all parts
of the sea-coast. The villages are chiefly conspicuous by the platforms
which are raised on four posts ten or twelve feet above the ground, and
on which the produce of the fields is kept secure from all accidents.
On coming near one of the huts I was much amused by seeing in due form
the ceremony of rubbing, or, as it ought to be called, pressing noses.
The women, on our first approach, began uttering something in a most
dolorous voice; they then squatted themselves down and held up their
faces; my companion standing over them, one after another, placed the
bridge of his nose at right angles to theirs, and commenced pressing.
This lasted rather longer than a cordial shake of the hand with us, and
as we vary the force of the grasp of the hand in shaking, so do they in
pressing. During the process they uttered comfortable little grunts,
very much in the same manner as two pigs do, when rubbing against each
other. I noticed that the
slave would press noses with any one he met, indifferently either
before or after his master the chief. Although among these savages the
chief has absolute power of life and death over his slave, yet there is
an entire absence of ceremony between them. Mr. Burchell has remarked
the same thing in Southern Africa with the rude Bachapins. Where
civilisation has arrived at a certain point, complex formalities soon
arise between the different grades of society: thus at Tahiti all were
formerly obliged to uncover themselves as low as the waist in presence
of the king.
The ceremony of pressing noses having been duly completed with all
present, we seated ourselves in a circle in the front of one of
the hovels, and rested there half an hour. All the hovels have nearly
the same form and dimensions, and all agree in being filthily dirty.
They resemble a cow-shed with one end open, but having a partition a
little way within, with a square hole in it, making a small gloomy
chamber. In this the inhabitants keep all their property, and when the
weather is cold they sleep there. They eat, however, and pass their
time in the open part in front. My guides having finished their pipes,
we continued our walk. The path led through the same undulating
country, the whole uniformly clothed as before with fern. On our right
hand we had a serpentine river, the banks of which were fringed with
trees, and here and there on the hill-sides there was a clump of wood.
The whole scene, in spite of its green colour, had rather a desolate
aspect. The sight of so much fern impresses the mind with an idea of
sterility: this, however, is not correct; for wherever the fern grows
thick and breast-high, the land by tillage becomes productive. Some of
the residents think that all this extensive open country originally was
covered with forests, and that it has been cleared by fire. It is said,
that by digging in the barest spots, lumps of the kind of resin which
flows from the kauri pine are frequently found. The natives had an
evident motive in clearing the country; for the fern, formerly a staple
article of food, flourishes only in the open cleared tracks. The almost
entire absence of associated grasses, which forms so remarkable a
feature in the vegetation of this island, may perhaps be accounted for
by the land having been aboriginally covered with forest-trees.
The soil is volcanic; in several parts we passed over slaggy lavas, and
craters could clearly be distinguished on several of the neighbouring
hills. Although the scenery is nowhere beautiful, and only occasionally
pretty, I enjoyed my walk. I should have enjoyed it more, if my
companion, the chief, had not possessed extraordinary conversational
powers. I knew only three words: “good,” “bad,” and “yes:” and with
these I answered all his remarks, without of course having understood
one word he said. This, however, was quite sufficient: I was a good
listener, an agreeable person, and he never ceased talking to me.
At length we reached Waimate. After having passed over so many miles of
an uninhabited useless country, the sudden appearance of an English
farm-house, and its well-dressed fields, placed there as if by an
enchanter’s wand, was exceedingly pleasant. Mr. Williams not being at
home, I received in Mr. Davies’s house a cordial welcome. After
drinking tea with his family party, we took a stroll about the farm. At
Waimate there are three large houses, where the missionary gentlemen,
Messrs. Williams, Davies, and Clarke, reside; and near them are the
huts of the native labourers. On an adjoining slope fine crops of
barley and wheat were standing in full ear; and in another part fields
of potatoes and clover. But I cannot attempt to describe all I saw;
there were large gardens, with every fruit and vegetable which England
produces; and many belonging to a warmer clime. I may instance
asparagus, kidney beans, cucumbers, rhubarb, apples, pears, figs,
peaches, apricots, grapes, olives, gooseberries, currants, hops, gorse
for fences, and English oaks; also many kinds of flowers. Around the
farmyard there were stables, a thrashing-barn with its winnowing
machine, a blacksmith’s forge, and on the ground ploughshares and other
tools: in the middle was that happy mixture of pigs and poultry, lying
comfortably together, as in every English farmyard. At the distance of
a few hundred yards, where the water of a little rill had been dammed
up into a pool, there was a large and substantial water-mill.
All this is very surprising when it is considered that five years ago
nothing but the fern flourished here. Moreover, native workmanship,
taught by the missionaries, has effected
this change;—the lesson of the missionary is the enchanter’s wand. The
house had been built, the windows framed, the fields ploughed, and even
the trees grafted, by the New Zealander. At the mill a New Zealander
was seen powdered white with flower, like his brother miller in
England. When I looked at this whole scene I thought it admirable. It
was not merely that England was brought vividly before my mind; yet, as
the evening drew to a close, the domestic sounds, the fields of corn,
the distant undulating country with its trees, might well have been
mistaken for our fatherland: nor was it the triumphant feeling at
seeing what Englishmen could effect, but rather the high hopes thus
inspired for the future progress of this fine island.
Several young men, redeemed by the missionaries from slavery, were
employed on the farm. They were dressed in a shirt, jacket, and
trousers, and had a respectable appearance. Judging from one trifling
anecdote, I should think they must be honest. When walking in the
fields, a young labourer came up to Mr. Davies and gave him a knife and
gimlet, saying that he had found them on the road, and did not know to
whom they belonged! These young men and boys appeared very merry and
good-humoured. In the evening I saw a party of them at cricket: when I
thought of the austerity of which the missionaries have been accused, I
was amused by observing one of their own sons taking an active part in
the game. A more decided and pleasing change was manifested in the
young women, who acted as servants within the houses. Their clean,
tidy, and healthy appearance, like that of the dairy-maids in England,
formed a wonderful contrast with the women of the filthy hovels in
Kororadika. The wives of the missionaries tried to persuade them not to
be tattooed; but a famous operator having arrived from the south, they
said, “We really must just have a few lines on our lips; else when we
grow old, our lips will shrivel, and we shall be so very ugly.” There
is not nearly so much tattooing as formerly; but as it is a badge of
distinction between the chief and the slave, it will probably long be
practised. So soon does any train of ideas become habitual, that the
missionaries told me that even in their eyes a plain face looked mean,
and not like that of a New Zealand gentleman.
Late in the evening I went to Mr. Williams’s house, where I passed the
night. I found there a large party of children, collected together for
Christmas Day, and all sitting round a table at tea. I never saw a
nicer or more merry group; and to think that this was in the centre of
the land of cannibalism, murder, and all atrocious crimes! The
cordiality and happiness so plainly pictured in the faces of the little
circle appeared equally felt by the older persons of the mission.
_December_ 24_th._—In the morning prayers were read in the native
tongue to the whole family. After breakfast I rambled about the gardens
and farm. This was a market-day, when the natives of the surrounding
hamlets bring their potatoes, Indian corn, or pigs, to exchange for
blankets, tobacco, and sometimes, through the persuasions of the
missionaries, for soap. Mr. Davies’s eldest son, who manages a farm of
his own, is the man of business in the market. The children of the
missionaries, who came while young to the island, understand the
language better than their parents, and can get anything more readily
done by the natives.
A little before noon Messrs. Williams and Davies walked with me to part
of a neighbouring forest, to show me the famous kauri pine. I measured
one of these noble trees, and found it thirty-one feet in circumference
above the roots. There was another close by, which I did not see,
thirty-three feet; and I heard of one no less than forty feet. These
trees are remarkable for their smooth cylindrical boles, which run up
to a height of sixty, and even ninety feet, with a nearly equal
diameter, and without a single branch. The crown of branches at the
summit is out of all proportion small to the trunk; and the leaves are
likewise small compared with the branches. The forest was here almost
composed of the kauri; and the largest trees, from the parallelism of
their sides, stood up like gigantic columns of wood. The timber of the
kauri is the most valuable production of the island; moreover, a
quantity of resin oozes from the bark, which is sold at a penny a pound
to the Americans, but its use was then unknown. Some of the New Zealand
forests must be impenetrable to an extraordinary degree. Mr. Matthews
informed me that one forest only thirty-four miles in width, and
separating two inhabited
districts, had only lately, for the first time, been crossed. He and
another missionary, each with a party of about fifty men, undertook to
open a road, but it cost them more than a fortnight’s labour! In the
woods I saw very few birds. With regard to animals, it is a most
remarkable fact, that so large an island, extending over more than 700
miles in latitude, and in many parts ninety broad, with varied
stations, a fine climate, and land of all heights, from 14,000 feet
downwards, with the exception of a small rat, did not possess one
indigenous animal. The several species of that gigantic genus of birds,
the Deinornis, seem here to have replaced mammiferous quadrupeds, in
the same manner as the reptiles still do at the Galapagos Archipelago.
It is said that the common Norway rat, in the short space of two years,
annihilated in this northern end of the island the New Zealand species.
In many places I noticed several sorts of weeds, which, like the rats,
I was forced to own as countrymen. A leek has overrun whole districts,
and will prove very troublesome, but it was imported as a favour by a
French vessel. The common dock is also widely disseminated, and will, I
fear, for ever remain a proof of the rascality of an Englishman who
sold the seeds for those of the tobacco plant.
On returning from our pleasant walk to the house, I dined with Mr.
Williams; and then, a horse being lent me, I returned to the Bay of
Islands. I took leave of the missionaries with thankfulness for their
kind welcome, and with feelings of high respect for their
gentlemanlike, useful, and upright characters. I think it would be
difficult to find a body of men better adapted for the high office
which they fulfil.
_Christmas Day._—In a few more days the fourth year of our absence from
England will be completed. Our first Christmas Day was spent at
Plymouth, the second at St. Martin’s Cove near Cape Horn; the third at
Port Desire in Patagonia; the fourth at anchor in a wild harbour in the
peninsula of Tres Montes, this fifth here, and the next, I trust in
Providence, will be in England. We attended divine service in the
chapel of Pahia; part of the service being read in English, and part in
the native language. Whilst at New Zealand we did not hear of any
recent acts of cannibalism; but
Mr. Stokes found burnt human bones strewed round a fireplace on a small
island near the anchorage; but these remains of a comfortable banquet
might have been lying there for several years. It is probable that the
moral state of the people will rapidly improve. Mr. Bushby mentioned
one pleasing anecdote as a proof of the sincerity of some, at least, of
those who profess Christianity. One of his young men left him, who had
been accustomed to read prayers to the rest of the servants. Some weeks
afterwards, happening to pass late in the evening by an outhouse, he
saw and heard one of his men reading the Bible with difficulty by the
light of the fire, to the others. After this the party knelt and
prayed: in their prayers they mentioned Mr. Bushby and his family, and
the missionaries, each separately in his respective district.
_December_ 26_th._—Mr. Bushby offered to take Mr. Sulivan and myself in
his boat some miles up the river to Cawa-Cawa, and proposed afterwards
to walk on to the village of Waiomio, where there are some curious
rocks. Following one of the arms of the bay we enjoyed a pleasant row,
and passed through pretty scenery, until we came to a village, beyond
which the boat could not pass. From this place a chief and a party of
men volunteered to walk with us to Waiomio, a distance of four miles.
The chief was at this time rather notorious from having lately hung one
of his wives and a slave for adultery. When one of the missionaries
remonstrated with him he seemed surprised, and said he thought he was
exactly following the English method. Old Shongi, who happened to be in
England during the Queen’s trial, expressed great disapprobation at the
whole proceeding: he said he had five wives, and he would rather cut
off all their heads than be so much troubled about one. Leaving this
village, we crossed over to another, seated on a hill-side at a little
distance. The daughter of a chief, who was still a heathen, had died
there five days before. The hovel in which she had expired had been
burnt to the ground: her body, being enclosed between two small canoes,
was placed upright on the ground, and protected by an enclosure bearing
wooden images of their gods, and the whole was painted bright red, so
as to be conspicuous from afar. Her gown was fastened to the coffin,
and her hair being cut off was cast at
its foot. The relatives of the family had torn the flesh of their arms,
bodies, and faces, so that they were covered with clotted blood; and
the old women looked most filthy, disgusting objects. On the following
day some of the officers visited this place, and found the women still
howling and cutting themselves.
We continued our walk, and soon reached Waiomio. Here there are some
singular masses of limestone resembling ruined castles. These rocks
have long served for burial places, and in consequence are held too
sacred to be approached. One of the young men, however, cried out, “Let
us all be brave,” and ran on ahead; but when within a hundred yards,
the whole party thought better of it, and stopped short. With perfect
indifference, however, they allowed us to examine the whole place. At
this village we rested some hours, during which time there was a long
discussion with Mr. Bushby, concerning the right of sale of certain
lands. One old man, who appeared a perfect genealogist, illustrated the
successive possessors by bits of stick driven into the ground. Before
leaving the houses a little basketful of roasted sweet potatoes was
given to each of our party; and we all, according to the custom,
carried them away to eat on the road. I noticed that among the women
employed in cooking, there was a man-slave: it must be a humiliating
thing for a man in this warlike country to be employed in doing that
which is considered as the lowest woman’s work. Slaves are not allowed
to go to war; but this perhaps can hardly be considered as a hardship.
I heard of one poor wretch who, during hostilities, ran away to the
opposite party; being met by two men, he was immediately seized; but as
they could not agree to whom he should belong, each stood over him with
a stone hatchet, and seemed determined that the other at least should
not take him away alive. The poor man, almost dead with fright, was
only saved by the address of a chief’s wife. We afterwards enjoyed a
pleasant walk back to the boat, but did not reach the ship till late in
the evening.
_December_ 30_th._—In the afternoon we stood out of the Bay of Islands,
on our course to Sydney. I believe we were all glad to leave New
Zealand. It is not a pleasant place.
Amongst the natives there is absent that charming simplicity which is
found in Tahiti; and the greater part of the English are the very
refuse of society. Neither is the country itself attractive. I look
back but to one bright spot, and that is Waimate, with its Christian
inhabitants.
[Illustration: Hippah, New Zealand]
[Illustration: Sydney, 1835]