CHAPTER I:THE MAORI UNDER CIVILISATION
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CHAPTER I
THE MAORI UNDER CIVILISATION
SOME LOGICAL SAVAGES
A RETROSPECTIVE glance at the visible effects of civilisation upon the Maoris during the last half-century discloses but little cause for congratulation at the success achieved.
After so many years of toil and the expenditure of such vast sums of money upon sacred literature, educational reserves, etc., what is the result? In the 'sixties we find them -- one of the most noble and intellectual of savage races--despite the thirty years of missionary teaching, more savage, vindictive, and treacherous than when first observed.
In 1844 Hone Heke, in violation of the celebrated Treaty of Waitangi, took up arms against the Queen's authority. At Kororareka (now Russell), to this day, may be seen a melancholy memento of the first Maori war--the little plot where the remains of New Zealand's first defenders are laid, their brave deeds commemorated by some loving
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hand in the lines inscribed on the stone that marks their last resting-place:--
"The warlike of the Isles,
The men of field and waves,
Are not the rocks their funeral piles.
The sea and shore their graves?
Go, stranger, track the deep,
Free, free, the white sail spread;
Wave may not foam nor wild wind sweep
Where rest not British dead."
Hone Heke, by a clever ruse, captured the blockhouse. Some few were killed in its defence, and the signalman's wife and daughter were taken prisoners. Yet this Maori warrior, this leader of savages, with a natural spirit of chivalry worthy of a knight of the Crusades, caused the prisoners to be conducted with every token of honour and respect, to their Pakeha friends, saying, "We fight men, not women."
This incident speaks volumes in favour of the Aboriginal of that time, for it must be remembered that Hake's immediate antecedents were of the savage and warlike Ngapuhi. The redoubtable Hongi, their head chief, at whose feet Heke had been moulded, was a thorough cannibal. Heke had been taught something of Christian civilisation, but the Native mind, bent upon tribal supremacy or utu (revenge), was nearly always engrossed by quarrels, generally ending in Whawhai (fight, war).
Cannibalism with the Maoris was certainly in-
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dulged in more from a spirit of revenge than from a predilection for human flesh. "We have killed and eaten our enemies, and the victory is complete." Such was their motto. The women never indulged in the horrible fare. An old warrior once informed me that the flesh of Pakeha, or European, was not at all palatable -- "Kanui te tote, e ngare te Maori ka reka" (very salt, but the Maori very sweet).
At the time I speak of, this converted cannibal's principal occupation was to ring the mihinari (missionary bell)--an inverted pot--and read the Paipara (Bible) at the services held in the Whare Karakia chapel, or house of prayer.
Twenty-three years after the Kororareka episode, what do we see? Turanga Nui (Poverty Bay), the garden of the East Coast, with its beautiful climate, fertile plains, and rich undulating country, the principal residence, up to that time, of the Anglican Bishop of Waiapu, being devastated by fire and massacre. Alas, for the beneficial effects of civilisation! The raid was accompanied by atrocities of the most terrible character, women and children being slain in cold blood after being subjected to the most revolting indignities.
Hone Heke! Te Kooti! What a contrast of characters! The former, just emerging from what might be called an atmosphere of cannibalism, had the advantage of only a few years of irregular tuition, yet how magnanimous a foeman was the brave and chivalrous Ngapuhi warrior! Te Kooti
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had the opportunity of a whole lifetime, and the close proximity of the missionaries, to acquire a knowledge of good, yet he was not on the same plane with Heke. In 1844 Heke, in all probability would never have destroyed that historic flagstaff, the emblem of the Queen's rule, had it not been for the action of a few unprincipled mercenary Pakehas who goaded him on by hints that the Mana of the Maori was declining, and the glory of Te Ngapuhi fast disappearing. Their object was to create a commotion--more expenditure and better trade would be the certain result of anything like disaffection on the part of the natives. So it has ever been right through the piece, in this fair and beautiful land of the Maori. The teaching of the various missionaries was counterbalanced, to a great extent, by the debasing influence and example of our so-called superior race.
Again, the zeal displayed by many promulgators of the Gospel was not invariably conspicuous by its preference for the salvation of souls to the cultivation of the soil, a fact which brought forth the following well-known bit of satire from one of this naturally humorous and witty people: "The missionaries are a holy class; they teach us to join our hands, look up to heaven and pray, and while we are doing so, take the land from under our feet!"
A very noticeable feature, and one which appeared very prominently while the Hau Hau fanaticism was at its height, was a marked antipathy
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to all English clergymen. Here, again, it will not be difficult to point out a very probable cause. Shortly after the arrival of the French Roman Catholic Bishop, Pompallier, at the Bay of Islands, some of the selfishly narrow-minded white residents had circulated a report of not an altogether favourable nature concerning the "Wee Wee's," a term applied by the natives to Frenchmen, through hearing them use the word "Oui" so frequently in the endeavour to make themselves understood. This rumour had the effect of bringing a crowd of Maoris around the Bishop's residence with the avowed intention of expelling him and his Pikopo (Catholic) brethren from New Zealand. However, after hearing the Bishop, they retired, expressing regret for their behaviour. A complete revulsion of feeling in the native mind seems to have been the result. This was afterwards strengthened by the rumour that had induced Heke to dispute the Queen's sovereignty, viz., "that England would eventually make slaves of the Maoris." Heke had acquired a certain knowledge of history, from which he gathered that England and France had previously been at war. Consequently he looked upon the "Wee Wee's" as more likely to be the friends of his countrymen.
The action of the notorious Hau Hau prophet, Koreopa, during his raid upon Opotiki in the Bay of Plenty, supplies evidence in support of this contention. Like a hungry tiger, he pounced upon the settlers, and, passing the French missionary's house,
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went direct to the residence of the Rev. Mr. Volckner, and, in a most barbarous manner, put him to death.
Contemporaneously with Te Kooti in the East, the valiant Titokowaru, on the West Coast, was giving our forces such a lively time that the settlers fled to the centres for mutual protection. The greater part of that beautifully picturesque and fertile stretch of country, so lately a hotbed of rebellion, is now plentifully sprinkled with smiling homesteads and thriving townships. The crack of the rifle, and the savage yell of the war-dance, have given place to the ring of the bushfeller's axe, clearing the mighty monarchs of the forest from off the virgin soil. Titokowaru, bold and active, was gradually superseded by the passive, prophetic Te Whiti, and once more peace reigned, never again to be seriously disturbed. During Titokowaru's career yet another instance of that strange Maori feeling with regard to the missionaries was exhibited. For many years no minister of any denomination, with one exception, dared venture to travel the coastline between Taranaki and Wanganui. The exception was the Rev. Father Roland, S.M., a Roman catholic and a Frenchman--the "Soldier Priest," as he was called by some. He was the gallant but unfortunate Von Temsky's attendant in many a hazardous expedition, tending the wounded and dying of friend or foe alike. Individually, foes he had none. The very Hau Hau fanatics apparently recognised the fact of his being a non-combatant, and while our troops on several
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occasions were being shot down, he, in their midst, remained unmolested.
A singular event happened about this time, indicating the somewhat novel and peculiar notions entertained by the Maoris in matters theological. A pah had been captured by our troops, assisted by a contingent of friendlies, and the enemy, retiring to the fastnesses of the forest, left a few of their dead in the whares. Upon entering the taeapas (fence or palisading) one poor little mite was discovered, shivering with fear, in a dark corner. He had been either overlooked in the confusion or considered unequal to the terribly rough task before the retreating warriors.
The little fellow, about six years of age, was taken charge of by the friendly priest with the intention of ultimately placing him where he would be cared for, an act not easy of accomplishment in those primeval wilds.
The friendly natives undisguisedly showed their astonishment at the attention given to so insignificant an atom. The minister baptised the boy, and by way of an object-lesson, explained to the Maoris his reasons for so doing, viz.: "If this innocent child should happen to die on the perilous journey back, or be killed, he will Haere ki te Atua to taua Matua" (go to God, our Father). Having done this, he left his young protege with them for the night.
The next morning a start was about to be made upon the return trip, and the priest went for the
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boy, but the natives quite coolly informed him that they had sent him to God. "What did they mean? "
"Why, your conversation told us if he were killed he would go to God, and our thought was if he kept living he would go back to the Hau Haus. Which was better?"
Enough! He was killed! The good "Oui oui" could not agree with their logic on this point, and gave them a bit of his mind upon the heinousness of their conduct. However, the knowledge of their crime did not have the effect of producing contrition. He was such a small boy that they had knocked him on the head; and, in such busy times, the matter was scarcely worth a second thought.
