MR. JOSHUA HILL
A NEW chapter now opens in the history of this island. About the year
1832-33 it was favored with a new arrival, in the person of Joshua
Hill. He was a man of excellent education, but stern in his nature,
and a tyrannically strict disciplinarian. He reached the island by way
of Tahiti, to which place he had come from Honolulu. In England he had
heard the curious story of the little island in mid-ocean, and how it
was peopled, and he left home for the purpose of coming amongst the
islanders as their pastor and teacher, considering his age no obstacle,
although he was about seventy years old. But he was forestalled by
Nobbs.
It is only fair to acknowledge that at the time of his coming the
condition of affairs on the island did not witness favorably to the
management of those who were the acknowledged leaders. Like the
Israelites in the times of the judges, “every man did what was right in
his own eyes,” for, since the patriarchal rule of John Adams, no one
had supplied, as he did, the place he held so long in the confidence,
as well as the affection, of the people.
It excites a feeling of surprise that, in all the old man’s endeavors
at reformation, he had allowed the old still, used by McCoy and
Quintall, to continue its unholy, debasing work. But so it was; and at
the time of Hill’s arrival, it was in constant operation, several of
the men being addicted to the vice; nor were Nobbs and Buffett averse
to “a wee drap on the sly.” Neither, since the removal to Tahiti, did
all the people retain the beautiful, strict morality that had been
their crowning virtue, as was proved in two cases; so that, altogether,
the island stood in need of a general and thorough reformation.
Hill at once assumed the reins of government. His first step was to
appoint four principal men to support him, to whom he gave the title of
elders. These were supplemented by three sub-elders, and four cadets.
The people at first willingly submitted to all his innovations, and,
had he been as wise and prudent in the administration of his measures
as he was zealous in having them performed, there is no question but
that he would have accomplished such lasting good among the people
as would have continued so long as they had a history. One fact will
show that this was done, in spite of the many faults and errors that
he committed during his brief term of leadership. To his honor be
it recorded that through his untiring and energetic exertions the
trouble-creating still was destroyed, and never after was its baleful
work to be revived.
Hill professed to have been sent out by the English Government, which
assertion, if not entirely false, was at least doubtful. He utterly
ignored the presence of the other Englishmen, and succeeded only too
well in influencing the islanders against them. But there was one
exception. Charles Christian, a son of Fletcher Christian, whose
many noble qualities endeared him to all, ever remained the staunch,
unchanging friend of the persecuted Nobbs, Buffett, and Evans; and
when, by Hill’s order, Buffett was publicly flogged, this true friend,
hearing of the unjust and cruel treatment, hastened to the rescue, and,
by his unflinching bravery and manly courage, succeeded in delivering
the unhappy man from his hard-hearted and wicked tormentors. But this
extreme measure was carried into effect after Hill’s rule had been
fairly established.
Under his strict discipline everything worked fairly well at the start.
But his too zealous eagerness to accomplish a reform led him to do
what prudence and calm reason should have prevented. The following
instance may serve as an example: Two women had set afloat some report
concerning Hill, which, reaching his ears, he strongly resented.
Immediate steps were taken to punish the offenders. A meeting was
convened, consisting of the irate leader, his elders, sub-elders, and
cadets, to pass judgment on the women. In the course of the meeting,
they knelt for a few minutes while Hill prayed. Among the various
petitions that he uttered, occurred this sentence: “If these women die
the common death of all men, the Lord hath not sent me.” The prayer
ended, but there was no response. Not one present, with the exception
of Hill himself, would pronounce the “amen.” Nor was it to be expected
that they would thus denounce the women who were nearly related to some
of them. But their refusal to take part in the prayer enraged their
leader still more, and, while he stood revealed before his followers in
his true character, overzealous, revengeful, and tyrannical, the spell
with which his influence had bound them was broken, and the hold he had
obtained on the minds of some of them was forever lost.
Wrangling, quarreling, and abusive language were constantly kept up
between the parties. Hill and his party, who were the stronger, caused
the lives of the three other Englishmen to be daily embittered with
hard treatment. Buffett in particular was forced to undergo severe
punishment on account of a wrong done five or six years before Hill
came. When Hill was informed of the matter, he considered it his duty
to administer such penalty as would prove a wholesome lesson to Buffett
in future. Nor would Nobbs have escaped were it not that at the time he
was sick in bed, and Hill’s cruelty did not quite reach to the extent
of flogging a sick man. Nobbs, who was poetical, wrote a lively epigram
on Hill, in the closing lines of which he mentioned the erection of the
gallows—
“With a _Hill_ to _enliven_ the scene.”
This at once met a retort, and thus the spirit of animosity was kept
alive and never suffered to die.
[Illustration: PITCAIRN AVENUE.]
The ill treatment to which the three Englishmen were constantly
subjected at last reached a climax by their being forced to leave the
island. Separated from their families, they were carried away on a
schooner, the captain of which condemned Hill’s doings unsparingly,
while to the exiled men he showed the utmost kindness. They were taken
to Tahiti, but did not remain there long, as an opportunity was soon
afforded them of returning to the home of their adoption. Arriving
there, they took their families with them and left, Nobbs and Evans
going as far as the Gambier Islands, while Buffett went on to Tahiti.
When the cruel banishment had been effected, the men who before had
yielded unquestioning obedience to Hill’s orders, began to awake to
the fact that they had been participating in a wholesale course of
injustice and oppression. Their true friends had received ill usage at
their hands, even unto banishment, while they had submitted to be ruled
by a tyrant. Shame and remorse for the part they had taken, filled
their minds, and they only waited the opportunity to have the exiles
recalled.
It soon came. The captain of a schooner, the _Olivia_, making a call
at the island at the time, was told all the facts of the case, and he
very generously promised to go to the Gambier Islands and remove the
two families of Nobbs and Evans to their home. This was accordingly
done, and once more all were again on Pitcairn Island, as Buffett and
his family had arrived from Tahiti a short time before on the _Olive
Branch_. While these last seemed to have gained in health during their
sojourn at Tahiti, the two families who stayed at the Gambier Islands
were extremely emaciated, owing to the poor food on which they were
obliged to subsist. Their relatives and friends greeted them on their
home coming with open arms, while expressions of affection and tears of
joy, that spoke more than words, told how glad they were that all of
them were permitted to meet again.
On the return of the exiled men, they found the island in an unsettled
state. Divisions were rife among the people. Hill no longer exercised
undisputed sway over their minds and actions. His power, once so great,
was now quite broken. At this time there occurred a quarrel between
Hill and one of his former elders, which narrowly escaped proving a
very serious affair. The trouble arose in this way: A young girl,
daughter of the ex-elder, had been charged with stealing some yams, and
was proved guilty. The father was summoned before Hill, to hear what
his daughter’s sentence would be. Hill declared that the offender ought
to be executed, or, at least, be made to suffer very severely for her
fault. The father strongly opposed such harsh measures, and positively
asserted that his daughter should not be subjected to the will of the
merciless man. Aroused to fury by this opposition to his will, which
the father steadily maintained, Hill rushed into his bedroom, and,
grasping his sword, returned, and, waving it threateningly at his
opponent, cried out, “Confess your sins, for you are a dead man.” This
he repeated with, if possible, increased fury, while his threatened
victim, as he afterward declared, felt that his last hour had indeed
come. A table stood between them, and young Quintall, although
intimidated by the murderous fire that gleamed in Hill’s eye, as well
as by the sword that he was brandishing, quickly cleared the table at a
bound, and, before Hill could divine his intention, laid a firm grip on
the shoulders of his enemy, and by main force threw him upon the floor.
Unable to do anything else but maintain his hold on his fallen foe,
he was powerless to prevent the thrusts of Hill’s sword. Fortunately,
they resulted in a few slight scratches only, which were sufficiently
deep, however, to leave lifelong scars on the breast of the intended
victim. How long the struggle would have lasted had the combatants been
left alone, it is not possible to say. A young man happened to pass by
the house, and, catching a glimpse of what was passing within, took
in the whole situation at once. Running as quickly as he could to his
house, he soon returned armed with a musket, and called out that he was
going to shoot Hill. Others, hearing the shout, came running together
to learn what the cause of the disturbance was. Arriving at the scene
of the quarrel, their first act was to dispossess Hill of his sword.
He was then allowed to rise and retire peaceably to his room. Nothing
further was done to him, but he did not receive his sword back again
until the day when, friendless and unloved, he left the island forever.
Letters of complaint from the persecuted Buffett, Evans, and Nobbs had,
in the meantime, been sent on to Valparaiso, asking redress from those
who might and could render help and deliverance from Hill’s power. In
answer to their earnest appeal, the _Actæon_ was sent to the island in
1836. She was commanded by Lord Edward Russell. His lordship, shortly
after arriving, called a meeting, over which he himself presided.
Permission was given to all concerned to speak their minds freely, a
privilege of which each one readily availed himself. A warm and lively
debate ensued, and while Hill was speaking in his own defense, one
unruly member of the meeting would every now and again interrupt him
with, “It’s a lie, my lord,” addressed to Lord Russell.
The proceedings of the court provoked much laughter, and all was
greatly enjoyed by his lordship. One circumstance especially called
forth peals of laughter. Hill was relating a story about a book that
belonged to Hannah Young. Opposite to the motto “_Dieu et mon droit_,”
on the title-page, were written the following lines:—
“God and my right we often see
Emblazoned abroad;
Let them who read this motto be
With Jesus, right with God.”
Beneath this Nobbs had placed his signature, “G. H. Nobbs, P. S. M.”
Hill had taken the liberty to add as a postscript this quotation from
Holy Writ: “Alas, master! for it was borrowed.” On Lord Russell’s
asking an explanation of the three initial letters subjoined to the
name of Nobbs, Hill readily replied that _Nobbs_ intended them to mean
“Pastor and Spiritual Master,” but, in _his_ estimation, the correct
rendering should be “Public Miscreant and Scoundrel.” These lively
thrusts were given by each party until his lordship declared that the
whole proceeding was too good to finish at one sitting, and the meeting
adjourned to the following day.
On the second day his lordship’s decision was that Hill should be
removed from the island as soon as possible, and the following year
the _Imogen_ arrived to carry that decision into effect. The first
words spoken by her captain, when the boat from shore went off to the
ship, were: “Is Joshua Hill still on the island? I am sent on purpose
to remove him.” The next day, at an early hour, Hill, with his few
possessions, was conveyed on board the _Imogen_, where cold looks
awaited him. Friendless and alone in the midst of strangers, the old
man stood on the deck of the vessel that was to bear him away. With
all his faults, aggravated as they were, it is impossible not to feel
a deep sympathy in his hour of adversity for the poor old man, who,
through a mistaken, perverted zeal, had rendered himself obnoxious to
those whom he undoubtedly, and with all honesty of purpose, wished to
benefit. Thus passed out of the history of Pitcairn Island Joshua Hill,
whose memory is still freshly retained by those who knew him, rather as
being associated with harshness, severity, and tyranny, than like that
of the just, whose memory “smells sweet and blossoms in the dust.”
[Illustration]