THE MAORIS AND THE SETTLERS
The Maori chiefs regarded the treaty of Waitangi as the Charter of their
liberties, and in the opinion of Bishop Selwyn it was “highly beneficial
to the people of New Zealand since it gave them the protection of the
British Government and assured them ‘that no land would be taken from
them which they were not willing to sell.’” But the treaty was obnoxious
to the members of the New Zealand Company, since it was a continual
hindrance to their plans for the development of the Colony. They were
constantly arousing the suspicions of the Maoris by their efforts to
evade it. The conditions of the country were rapidly changing and as yet
the new order had not been firmly established. On the one side were the
fears and suspicions of the Maoris that they had been betrayed and would
lose their lands, suspicions encouraged by those white adventurers who
disliked the idea of a settled government. On the other side was what
Selwyn described as “the discontented and insubordinate temper of our
own settlers.” He writes of the situation as follows:
“The one general imputation against all of us was a concealed
intention of dispossessing the natives of their land, and reducing
them to slavery. In support of this, the acts of our countrymen in
other lands were related to them.”
The missionaries made constant efforts for peace and assured the natives
that the British Government was determined to protect their rights and
property. Great was their surprise and consternation when a Report of
the House of Commons stated that “all lands not actually occupied by the
natives are declared to be vested in the Crown.” Selwyn wrote:
“The natives of New Zealand cannot bear this uncertainty; they can see
the merits of a question as clearly as we can; but if they detect us
in a falsehood, or even in a change of purpose the reason of which
they cannot understand, our influence with them is lost.”
It was in the neighbourhood of the Bay of Islands that there was most
restlessness, and here the discontented Maoris gathered round a chief
named John Heke. On a hill overlooking the village of Kororareke there
was a blockhouse with a few soldiers and a flagstaff on which the
British flag was flying. This was to the natives a symbol of British
sovereignty. Heke was a Christian and had no hostility to the
missionaries, nor did he desire to destroy the property of the settlers.
It was the fear lest his people should be reduced to the condition of
slaves that aroused his hostility. The Bishop writes:
“Meetings began to be held at which John Heke was the chief speaker,
the subject of discussion being the cutting down of the flagstaff. In
the month of August, 1844, Heke assembled a party of armed men, and
proceeded to Kororareke, where he spent Saturday and part of Sunday in
alarming the natives and early on Monday morning, mounted the hill and
cut down the flagstaff. I was at Paihai at the time, engaged in the
native school, at the close of which the first words I heard were ‘the
colour has fallen.’ I shuddered at the thought of this beginning of
hostilities, so full of presage of evil for the future. Heke then
crossed to Paihai, and with his party danced the war dance in my face,
after which many violent speeches were made.”
The Bishop’s fears were justified; a troubled period of anarchy
followed. Soldiers were sent for from Sydney to defend the settlers and
their property. The fighting was most serious in the district round
Kororareke. During the next two years the flagstaff was cut down on
three more occasions, and the town of Kororareke was captured by the
Maori rebels. The Bishop watched the attack from his little sailing
vessel, to which he had brought some of the wives and children of the
settlers for safety. Then he landed with Mr. Williams to recover and
bury the bodies of the dead. He wrote:
“We found the town in the possession of the natives, who were busily
engaged in plundering the houses. Their behaviour to us was perfectly
civil and inoffensive. Several immediately guided us to the spots
where the bodies were down upon this day of sorrow.... The state of
the town after the withdrawal of the troops was very characteristic.
The natives carried on their work of plunder with perfect composure,
neither quarrelling among themselves nor resenting any attempt on the
part of the English to recover portions of their property.... With
sorrow I observed that many of the natives were wheeling off casks of
spirits; but they listened patiently to my remonstrances, and in one
instance they allowed me to turn the cock and let the liquor run out
upon the ground.”
That evening he rode to the Waimate and from there watched the burning
of Kororareke, the whole sky lighted up by the blaze of burning houses.
The next morning passing near the scene of desolation to get to his
boat, he noticed how “all that had been devoted to mammon was gone, but
heathen vengeance had spared the patrimony of God. The two chapels and
the houses of the clergy remained undestroyed.” It was impossible to say
what would be the result of this native success upon the “position and
prospects” of the Christian teachers. But there were some hopeful signs,
and the Bishop was clear as to the part he intended to play. “My hope is
that by cautious and judicious management, the Church interest in this
country may be kept clear of all political dissensions. On one point I
think that I may speak decisively, that there is no evidence of any
general or indiscriminate hatred of the natives towards the English
settlers, or any disposition to bloodthirsty or savage acts of violence.
The proceedings at Kororareke were conducted with all the usages of
European warfare.... In the midst of much that was fearful, there was
much also that proved the indirect effect of religion and civilization
upon the minds of the natives.... There are many signs which give us
great hopes for the future.”
The Bishop exerted himself on every possible occasion to promote peace
and to save life, exposing himself fearlessly in his efforts to bring
off safely the wives and children of the settlers, who were conveyed to
Auckland and there cared for by Mrs. Selwyn and the other ladies. But
his absolute neutrality was not appreciated and he was called a traitor
because he would not share in the general hatred of the natives. He did
not allow his unpopularity to disturb him and wrote:
“The real subject of grief is the injury which is done to religion by
the un-Christian feelings and language which many permit and justify
in themselves. In this perversion of public feeling it becomes
necessary to stand firm and let the flood sweep by.”
But his courage and devotion were amply recognized by those who
witnessed it. The officer commanding the _Hazard_, the British vessel
which had brought the troops from Sydney to the ill-fated encounter with
the natives, wrote to him saying:
“There is not a single man on board who does not appreciate your
conduct.... Go where you will, you will carry with you the good wishes
of all who saw you under the late trying circumstances.”
The disturbances had begun whilst the Bishop was on a confirmation tour.
At one place he had confirmed 300 natives, and there were numbers of
Christian natives quite ready to fight for him should he desire it. Now
that there was a general fear lest the unrest caused by the rising of
Heke should spread and endanger the settlements further south, the
Bishop was anxious to visit them and do all he could to promote peace.
On this journey he took Mrs. Selwyn with him. She helped in the work of
spreading confidence by her ministrations to the sick. She felt no fear
of any possible unfriendliness on the part of the natives, for as she
wrote:
“If you live among them, you find them looking up to you and clinging
to you in all points, and the fear ceases.”
To her great delight she was taken on a little bush expedition, as she
longed to see with her own eyes how so large a part of the Bishop’s life
was spent. During these next years he carried on the work of ministering
to his people and administering his diocese in the midst of continual
anxiety caused by the Maori unrest, consequent on the efforts of the New
Zealand Company to get possession of the native lands.
The failure of the Governor, Captain Fitzroy, to restore order led to
his removal, and Sir George Grey, a young and able administrator, was
sent from South Australia to take his place. Under his energetic
measures conditions were improving, when news came from England that the
pressure brought to bear upon the Colonial Office by the New Zealand
Company, had led to an Act being passed through Parliament (1846) which
set aside the Treaty of Waitangi and annulled its provisions. Against
this both Judge Martin and Bishop Selwyn protested in no measured terms.
They considered it a breach of faith, destructive of the honour of
England and certain to put an end to all hope of peaceful relations with
the Maoris. The strength of the Bishop’s feelings is shown in a letter
to a friend in which he says:
“I would rather that he (Earl Grey, the Colonial Secretary) cut me in
pieces than induced me, by any personal compliments, to resign the New
Zealanders to the tender mercies of men, who avow the right to take
the land of the New Zealanders, and who would not scruple to use force
for that purpose.”
The Bishop’s protest led to his being spoken of in the House of Commons
by the radical member, Joseph Hume, as “a turbulent priest.” Sir George
Grey realized at once the impossibility of carrying out the instructions
sent by the Colonial Office. He professed to believe that they were not
meant to be carried out literally, and his representations led the
English Government to agree to suspend the execution of the Act passed
by Parliament for five years, during which time Sir George Grey devoted
himself to framing a new constitution for the colony.
Unfortunately the difficulties of the land question disturbed the
relations of the Bishop with one of the most experienced and revered
missionaries in the country, Henry Williams, whom he had made Archdeacon
of Waimate. Williams, in order to make provision for his family, had
bought land from the natives on which he had settled his sons, who
cultivated it with great success. His claim to these lands was approved
by the Council set up in 1844 by Governor Fitzroy to consider the whole
question of land claims. In recommending the awards made to Henry
Williams the Governor said, “that there could be no doubt that Mr.
Williams had done more for the advancement and improvement of the
aboriginal race than any other individual member of the missionary
body.” But the missionaries by their defence of the rights of the
natives were extremely unpopular with the New Zealand Company, and the
good condition of the lands held by the Williams family, owing to their
excellent farming, excited the jealousy of the incoming colonists. The
new Governor, Sir George Grey, saw that questions of land tenure were
the chief cause of all the troubles with the natives. In his early days,
when only insufficiently acquainted with conditions in New Zealand, he
was much too ready to believe the accusations made by the Company
against the missionaries of having used their position to acquire
unlawfully large tracts of lands from the natives. He wrote home to the
Colonial Office a private dispatch condemning in strong language the
land purchases of the missionaries. Bishop Selwyn, who on other
occasions had vigorously defended the missionaries against the Company,
did not on principle approve of missionaries owning land for themselves.
He wished that their sons should be trained for the service of the
Church, and he appealed to the missionaries to teach their children “to
renounce the barren pride of ownership for the moral husbandry of
Christ’s kingdom in the harvest of souls.” In his zeal and eagerness he
seems to have forgotten that all young men are not fitted to be
missionaries or teachers. To him it was a plain issue; he did not
sufficiently understand Williams’ position. To Williams it appeared that
the Bishop was in alliance with the Governor against him, and he felt
bitterly the seeming desertion of the man whom he had admired so warmly.
When urged by the Bishop to give up the title deeds to his lands he
refused. Strong in the consciousness of his own uprightness, he would
consent to no compromise by which it might have seemed that he felt
himself to be in the wrong. It was not his property that he was
defending, but his character, which had been impugned by the charges
made against his conduct by the Governor to the Home Government. The
whole matter was of course brought before the Church Missionary Society
at home. They were plunged into great perplexity. They did not feel
themselves strong enough to oppose the authorities both at home and in
New Zealand, and they did not really thoroughly know the facts. They
decided at last that the wisest course to pursue was to dismiss Henry
Williams from their service. He made no further attempt to defend
himself, but, deeply hurt at the treatment he had received after his
long and devoted service, he left his home at Paihai and retired to his
sons’ farm at Pakaraka, amidst the loud regrets of the people amongst
whom he had lived and worked for twenty-seven years, and amongst whom he
had hoped to die. He had defended himself warmly, with all the
impetuosity of his nature, for he had felt himself to be a man cruelly
caluminated. Now he would say no more. He continued to work amongst the
Maoris in his neighbourhood, and a church was built for him by his sons
in which he ministered. Meanwhile his brother went to England and
explained the case fully to the C.M.S. In 1854 when Bishop Selwyn and
Sir George Grey were both in England, they too, having no doubt arrived
at a fuller understanding of the matter, visited the C.M.S., and the
Bishop expressed his wish that Williams should be reinstated, which was
done.
The complexity and importance of the land question in New Zealand is
shown by this painful controversy, in which men of the high character of
Bishop Selwyn and Sir George Grey were led, in their zeal for order and
for the rights of the Maoris, to condemn, on insufficient knowledge a
man of the character and devotion of Henry Williams. He himself no doubt
added to the difficulty by his impetuous character and his caustic way
of expressing himself, but on the question in dispute itself, not a
shadow of blame can be attached to him. Selwyn seems to have judged over
hastily, and to have shown incapacity to see all sides of the question,
in his desire that the missionaries should show themselves superior to
all worldly considerations. Henry Williams believed that the Bishop was
led away by his love of power, and that he was unable to give way when
he first discovered that he had made a mistake. In later years friendly
relations between him and the Williams family were fully resumed. How
much he valued and appreciated the family, is shown by the fact that
William Williams was amongst the first of the men he recommended to fill
one of the new sees formed when his diocese was divided.
These three men, Selwyn, Grey and Williams, were all equally anxious to
uphold justice and the best interests of the Maoris, though they
differed so seriously on this occasion. Selwyn’s attitude towards the
Maoris made him most unpopular for a time amongst the settlers. His
constant effort was to promote peace and to ensure prosperity and
justice for all, but long afterwards, he would recall how his arrival
used to be greeted by the settlers with “Here comes the Bishop to
prevent us fighting with the natives.” One day when he was landing in a
small boat from his schooner at Wellington, he heard a man asking his
companion: “What’s that schooner that has come in this evening?” and the
reply was, “Oh, that old fool the Bishop’s.” Jumping on shore at that
moment he called out, chuckling and rubbing his hands, “Yes, and here’s
the old fool himself.” He went on his way careless of popularity and
heedless of the criticism inevitable in the case of a man of such vigour
and so many activities.
He found relief from his many anxieties in the work connected with his
college and schools at Auckland. These were beautifully situated about
five miles outside the town. Gifts from England enabled him to erect
solid stone buildings, a hospital as well as the schools; each year
there was some improvement. There were playing fields where the Maori
boys could play cricket, pastures for cattle and sheep, as well as
gardens, fields, a printing press, weaving and carpentering sheds. In
1846 there were already one hundred and thirty persons, English and
Maori, connected with the College. All alike shared in the cultivation
of the estate and lived together as one family. The Bishop wrote:
“I have given up house-keeping and have brought all my income to bear
on the College.”
Mrs. Selwyn shared his work in every way in her power. She taught in the
girls’ school and nursed in the hospital. In Judge Martin and his wife
they had friends who sympathized with all their plans and gave them much
personal help.
When visiting the mission stations round the coast in his little sailing
vessel, the Bishop was always on the look out for new scholars. He wrote
to a friend whilst on one of these voyages:
“Can you conceive a more interesting employment than hunting in this
wild country for hopeful plants to stock my nursery at Auckland. One
of my main employments during this journey has been to collect the
children of the native settlements and examine them; and where I found
anyone who especially pleased me, to invite his father to bring him up
to my school. In no case have I met with a refusal.... I have no doubt
that I can have as many as we can afford to maintain from all parts of
the island. My Eton experience I hope will be of use to me in this
search, for nothing used to interest me more than to form opinions of
the character of the boys from their physiognomy, and then watch their
progress through the school. I think that I have heard you say as a
dahlia fancier that Brown, of Slough, is in the habit of growing
thousands of seedlings in the hope of raising one rare and valuable
flower; and so people, in the hope of rearing some few who may
hereafter be admitted to the ministry. That they have intellectual
powers of a high order I have no doubt; what they want is an entire
correction of habits.”
The Maoris had learned confidence in him, and men, old, prejudiced and
bloodstained had come to desire a better training for their children. He
had well advanced plans for a second College in the Southern Island, but
this he was not able to establish owing to the pressure of other calls.
The Bishop’s desire was to educate the sons of the settlers and the
Maoris together, and this was done at first. He wrote in 1849:
“I must be a tyrant, and to be a good natured tyrant is the
difficulty. The explosive element in all countries having a mixed
population, is the disposition of the one to domineer over the other.
We are succeeding at last, I hope in amalgamating the two races in an
equality of privileges and position; but it is uphill work; it seemed
so natural to every English boy and man to have a Maori for his fag. I
think that by God’s blessing we shall succeed at last, and if we do it
will be a glorious measure of success.”
This growing work made the Bishop anxiously eager for more helpers. He
wrote urgently to Mr. Abraham who had promised to leave Eton and join
him as soon as he could. The work he saw before him was too great for
one man. He wrote:
“To move my diocese in any perceptible degree, I must multiply my own
single force through a multitude of wheels and powers; alone I am
powerless. Before me lies an inert mass which I am utterly unable to
heave; and there is no engine ready by which I can supply the defects
of my own weakness. I am bewildered by the multitude of details, and
sometimes doubt whether I am right in complicating the episcopate with
all the machinery of the subordinate ministries; and yet I feel that
without that pervading influence, the whole system will be powerless.”
These words show what the organization of his diocese meant to him. He
was planting a free and independent Church which was to endure, not
doing a piece of individual mission work. Cherishing these wide plans
for the future, he wanted helpers who could take his place when he had
to be absent on his visitation journeys. “I have scarcely a person in
the place,” he writes, “who has any eye for minute and careful
arrangement, without which no barbarous people, I am sure, can ever be
thoroughly Christianised. Throughout the whole mission the delusion has
prevailed more or less, that the Gospel will give habits as well as
teach principles. My conviction is that habits uncorrected will be the
thorns which will choke the good seed ... to get that personal and
parental care bestowed upon the native children which will qualify them
to be hereafter Christian parents in every sense, is the difficulty
which almost weighs me to the ground.” The smaller cares and the great
visions of the future all had their place in his mind, but he could not
help fearing what might be the effect on an over-detailed mind of the
increasing serving of tables. He felt that he specially needed the help
of his friend when “the very causes which most require earnestness in
prayer made him unable to pray as he ought.
“Expect nothing from us,” he wrote, “but bring with you as large a
spiritual treasure as you can. Come to help rather than to be helped.”
Two years later in 1849, when he at last heard that Mr. Abraham was able
to come, he wrote to his close friend, Edward Coleridge,
“My heart beats with joy at the prospect of Abraham coming. O what a
blessing it will be to a mind not only beginning to be overwrought but
beginning to be conscious of it.... Abraham will sustain part of the
spiritual and intellectual strain which falls upon the head of such an
institution as this.... If I could but feel that I was so growing in
grace as to increase in fitness for the work as the work itself
increases, I could then bound over the sea and over every New Zealand
forest and mountain with the lightest of hearts and the most buoyant
of hopes. But if the work should increase faster than the supply of
inward strength, and if help should be withheld in the form in which
it would be most welcome, by the subdivision of the diocese, it is not
any bodily decay which I fear so much as that overmuch service may
make my mind careful and troubled about many things, and unable even
in old age, to sit in contemplation at the feet of Christ.”