1845 - Martin, S. M. New Zealand: in a Series of Letters - LETTER I.

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NEW ZEALAND.

LETTER I.

NEW ZEALAND, BAY OF ISLANDS,
June, 1839.

IN some of my last letters from New South Wales I mentioned to you that I had intended shortly to visit this country. I also stated the reasons why I was anxious to leave the penal Colony, which, however well adapted for its original purpose, will, I am confident, never become the happy home of a contented and a moral, free population. But I have said enough on that subject on former occasions; I must now give you some idea of this reputedly savage and cannibal country. The passage from Sydney to Hokianga, a port on the west side of this island, was performed in seven days. We encountered very rough weather; but being a good sailor, and in a safe ship, I suffered no inconvenience. Hokianga is a bar harbour, and in consequence of strong westerly winds, the master of the vessel considered it unsafe to take the bar the day we made the land; the following morning, however, though the sea was still running very high, we ventured among the breakers, which

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were really terrific; but, fortunately, the bar is so narrow that with a fair wind, and at the proper time of tide, the danger is not very great: three huge waves or breakers indicate its situation and extent, when they are past the danger is over. Besides our friend Mr. M------, my fellow-passengers consisted of two old Hokianga settlers, two respectable young men, who, like Mr. M------ and myself, had come on purpose to see the country, and a Van Diemen's Land settler, who had visited New Zealand formerly and purchased some land, which he was now proceeding to occupy in person. He was accompanied by a young female, whom he called his wife; but I discovered afterwards that his real wife was left in Van Diemen's Land, where he had at one time occupied, what is called in such Colonies, a respectable position in society, having been a magistrate. Morality and propriety of conduct were unhappily in former times not more highly esteemed in the penal settlements than their opposite; perhaps the fact of this person deeming it necessary to leave the Colony might indicate a change for the better; but many immoral and improper characters still occupy places of honour and trust in the penal Colonies. Mr. I---- appeared, as is always the case, not to have much increased his happiness by the change he had made--the Sydney wife, though young and rather good-looking, was exceedingly vulgar and intemperate.

With the exception of the bar, a splendid river harbour, and some fine woodland scenery, Hokianga does not possess much interest. It is the chief station of the Wesleyan Missionary Society, and all the natives who have embraced Christianity, as a matter of course, profess Wesleyanism. Hitherto the Missionaries of the two societies have exercised a forbearing, if not a friendly feeling towards one another. Being until recently the only occupiers of the field, they very wisely agreed not to interfere with one

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another. Like Abraham and Lot, it was decided that the one should turn towards the east, and the other to the west. The Church Missionaries have established themselves along the east coast of New Zealand, while the Wesleyans devote themselves to the conversion of the inhabitants of the west. The Wesleyan Missionaries are reported to have been the most successful, but of the truth of this I have as yet had little opportunity of judging. The natives belonging to their communion are also reported to be better behaved and more civilised, and they themselves are, generally speaking, better thought of by the European settlers. The Church Missionaries are charged with the character of being proud, overbearing, unkind, and especially inhospitable. I fear there is some foundation for the latter charge at least, although in a country like New Zealand there could not by possibility be greater virtues than charity and hospitality.

The natives of Hokianga seem to have made considerable progress in civilisation. In this respect there is perhaps little difference between those professing Christianity and the heathen natives. A chief of the latter class called Tonui dined on board the ship the day of our arrival; he managed his knife and fork very creditably, and was not by any means indifferent to the usual forms. Tonui is a chief of considerable influence, and an extensive dealer in spars and timber, the dimensions of which he can calculate with much precision.

The European settlers at Hokianga, with the exception of the Missionaries, consist entirely of sawyers and those who employ them. They are scattered along the harbour in various creeks and bays. From the nature of the country all communication is by water, either in boats, or more frequently in native canoes.

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In consequence of the evils arising from the inordinate use of ardent spirits, a temperance society was established at Hokianga a short time ago; but although all the settlers on the river took the pledge it was soon broken through, and they are now as much as ever addicted to drink. The land around the harbour is extremely steep and precipitous, being in its present state not adapted either for agriculture or pasture. A very extensive tract of rich alluvial soil, however, extends for a considerable distance, forming a beautiful valley along the banks of a river at the head of the harbour, and I have been informed that similar tracts exist at the heads of nearly all the other rivers and creeks, of which there are many around the harbour, but the expense of clearing the land and cutting down the timber would be too great in the present state of the country; indeed, the natives produce all the necessaries of life so abundantly and cheaply, that no European farmer could compete with them in so limited a market. Some cargoes of Kauri spars have been shipped to England from Hokianga, but through the ignorance or carelessness of the shippers they have seldom paid well, being either too expensively procured or of unsuitable dimensions.

After remaining two days at Hokianga and seeing everything that could be seen, I determined, in company with Mr. M----, and two of the other passengers, to proceed overland to the Bay of Islands, as being the most central point for further movements. The journey from Hokianga to the Bay of Islands may be performed in summer in one day, but in consequence of the heavy falls of rain in the winter time, it is a weary walk of two days by the nearest route. Through the assistance of one of the European settlers we were enabled, with much difficulty, to obtain the services of six natives to carry our luggage

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across the country and to act as guides. The difficulty of obtaining them arose from the circumstance of their being at the time engaged in cultivating their land. The offer of a dollar apiece was, however, sufficient to induce the six good Wesleyan natives to leave their cultivation and to accompany the pakehas, or strangers, to the Bay of Islands. It is worthy of remark and somewhat in favour of the Missionaries, that Christian natives were recommended in preference to heathen, as being more faithful and trustworthy than the latter, and that, too, by a person not at all friendly towards the Missionaries. In the afternoon we started from the ship in a native canoe, and proceeded up the river a distance of eight or nine miles to a native settlement, where the road, or rather the foot-track, to the Bay of Islands commences. Before arriving at that place we were thoroughly drenched with rain, and finding the accommodations rather unpromising, we determined on making an effort to obtain better. Having learnt from the natives that a light which we perceived on an eminence at some distance proceeded from the residence of the Baron de Theiry, of whom you may possibly have heard in connexion with this country, it was agreed that, like true travellers, we should without hesitation make for the baronial residence, and throw ourselves as benighted pilgrims upon the hospitality of its regal owner. Leaving four of the natives in charge of our baggage, under the guidance of the other two we commenced the rather perilous undertaking of working our way over stumps of trees and decayed logs towards the Baron's house. After sundry falls, some slight contusions, and a good coating of mud and clay, we attained the desired object. With the exception of a small glass window in front, we discovered, to our dismay, that the baronial residence was little better,

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in appearance at least, than the native huts we had left. It was constructed of the same materials, and after the same style of architecture, but somewhat larger. Seeking in vain for the door in front of the house, we came to the conclusion that it must be at the back, or at all events somewhere. At the back we discovered it, and I being perhaps the most impudent of the four, was unanimously selected as the fittest person to try the effects of the application of my knuckles upon the Kauri boards, in the absence of a bell or knocker. After the usual intimation, the door was opened by a person who had just risen for the purpose from a good blazing fire in a place which appeared like a kitchen. Of this person I inquired if the Baron was at home; I also told the usual tale of travelling distress, and the very great reluctance with which we had been compelled to pay so unseasonable a visit. The person who opened the door, being no less a personage than the Baron himself, assured us at once of a hearty welcome by expressing his great happiness in seeing and accommodating strangers at all times, and we were immediately conducted to a small square wooden box opposite the door, where we were left to meditate in darkness upon the prospect before us. The Baron, however, returned as soon as possible with a light, which enabled us to become more intimately acquainted with his appearance, as well as with our own mud-bespattered persons. On the Baron's re-appearance we could not help noticing that he had during his absence materially improved his exterior, so much so that he could have been no longer mistaken for his own domestic, even if he had one. As it was, such a thing could not be, inasmuch as the sovereign chief comprehended in his own person and family all that existed of his feudal dignity and power. He was in truth the feudal lord without the followers or

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serfs. As this was the first European family I had visited in New Zealand, and as the Baron's name and character are public property, I may be forgiven if I give a more particular account of our reception than under ordinary circumstances I could be justified in doing. To speak of the domestic economy of a family is seldom consistent with propriety, and almost always an outrage upon hospitality; but when you know that the Baron de Theiry assumes the name of sovereign, claiming, as he does, the title of King of Nehuheva, and "by the grace of God Sovereign Chief of New Zealand," you must allow that there can be no more sin in speaking of the Court of Charles, Sovereign Chief of New Zealand, than of that of the King of England, or the Citizen King of France, the only crowned head in Europe whose alliance King Charles deemed it consistent with his dignity to claim. Charles Baron de Theiry is about fifty years of age; he is, I believe, the son of a French emigrant, an hereditary French peer, but born and educated in England. When dressed, he wears the undress uniform of an officer of the English army. He has most likely held a commission in Her Majesty's service. How or why he left that service I know not, but for some years he has been making the most persevering efforts to place himself, in name at least, on an equality with his late royal master. With this object, and doubtless filled with the fame of the celebrated Cacique of Poyais, Gregor MacGregor, he has visited various parts of South America; but none of the Indian tribes would submit to his rule. From South America he proceeded to the islands of the South Sea, perilling life and everything else, like Ulysses of old, in search of his kingdom. The Sandwich Islands, Tahiti, and various other islands of the great South Sea were visited and asked in vain to accept of a king. The

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inhabitants of the Marquesas at last took compassion upon the erratic prince, and constituted him king of one of their smallest islands, called Nehuheva. Whether he was expelled by his subjects, if ever he had any, or whether the taste of power had generated the usual kingly desire of extending his dominions, it is hard to say, but certain it is that he had a design upon New Zealand for a long time. The peculiar condition of this country, being neither claimed by any European power, nor under the government of any powerful native prince or princes, would at first sight appear to highly favour the views of the Baron. In addition to this, he claimed a large tract of land at Hokianga, which he alleged had been purchased on his account many years ago for twenty tomahawks by one of the Church Missionaries. Revolving all these favourable circumstances in his royal bosom, King Charles left his kingdom of Nehuheva and arrived in Sydney in the year 1835. Immediately on his arrival, he caused a proclamation to be published intimating his designs upon New Zealand. This proclamation was indited in the usual kingly style, commencing with the words--"Charles, by the grace of God, King of Nehuheva and Sovereign Chief of New Zealand, &c." Having made it appear that he was countenanced in his pretensions by the King of the French, and exhibiting several documents from the Government of France, he had little difficulty in persuading many persons in Sydney that his claims were not only well founded, but would be supported by his ally the Citizen King. His own gentlemanly address, good manners, and great presumption, contributed very much to the success of his preliminary scheme--that of raising a sum of money to enable him to visit his dominions with that power and dignity which became his royal pretensions. A person could

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scarcely believe that men so proverbially keen as those of New South Wales would allow themselves to be taken in by a pure adventurer like the Baron de Theiry, however high his pretensions may have been; it is nevertheless true that the Baron succeeded in raising a considerable sum of money by the sale of some bills which he drew upon the French Government: these bills were discounted by a mercantile house in Sydney of the name of Wilson, (strange to say, Aberdeen people,) but after the bills were forwarded to their destination, they were, as might have been expected, returned dishonoured. The Baron with the money thus-obtained proceeded immediately to accomplish the object so long desired--the possession of his sovereignty. A host of servants and retainers were engaged; all necessary, and some unnecessary, supplies were purchased, and a ship was chartered to convey the Sovereign Chief, his court, and followers, to Hokianga, where he purposed establishing himself in the first instance. The fame of his proceedings in Sydney, as a matter of course, preceded his arrival in New Zealand, and produced various effects in various places. While the people of Hokianga had made up their minds to submit quietly, if not cheerfully, to his authority, the British Resident and the Church Missionaries regarded the state of affairs in a very different light. To the one it appeared as an attempt on the part of France to infringe upon the rights of the country which he so faithfully, but never till then effectively, represented. To the Missionaries, again, it seemed as the shadowing forth of a coming cloud of Popish priests, who by their doctrines would deceive and lead astray all the faithful and beloved natives in the country. The Baron must, therefore, be opposed politically and spiritually, and without a moment's delay. A convention of the natives was forthwith called at the Bay of Is-

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lands--a declaration was prepared by the Missionaries and British Resident, and adopted and subscribed by the chiefs of the northern part of New Zealand. In that declaration they set forth the independence of their country, and declared the union of their respective tribes into one state, under the designation of the United Tribes of New Zealand. A copy of the declaration, with a request that Great Britain would acknowledge their independence, was immediately forwarded to the British Government through the Resident. How far that gentlemen was warranted in thus ceding away the claims of the country he so uselessly represented, it is scarcely necessary to say.

A few days after the completion of these great and formal proceedings, the Sovereign Chief arrived at Hokianga, and was received on landing from his ship with royal honours by the assembled European and native residents. One or two old guns were conveyed to a rising ground, and a royal salute was fired. So far matters promised well. With a few faithful and loyal subjects in one part of his dominions, Charles might naturally and most likely did expect that the wisdom, the impartiality, and justice of his Government would in time recommend it to the disaffected Missionaries and natives of the Bay of Islands. So fully was he impressed with that belief, that he abstained from taking notice of their highly disloyal and reprehensible conduct in attempting to establish a rival Government. How far Charles could have succeeded, had his means (I mean his money) been commensurate with his ambition, it is now hard to say; but the want of funds, the absence of Aberdeen merchants, and consequent inability to discount his French bills--the impossibility of procuring additional supplies, and the want of provisions for his followers and servants, soon reduced the Court and Government of the

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Baron to the number and members of his own family. It must however be stated to the credit of his followers, that they did not abandon him until he had nothing more to feed them with; several suffered great privations before they got back to New South Wales, and some of them had to throw themselves on the charity of the Missionaries. Thus the Baron practically failed in establishing his sovereignty, and I regret to say that he has been no more successful in establishing his claim to the lands which he alleges to have purchased from the natives. The dream of power still haunts him, and though left without money, servants, or even food for his family, he cherishes the monomaniac idea that France will yet assist and establish him as Sovereign Chief of New Zealand. We had scarcely been seated in his house, before he asked whether we had seen any French ships outside, and informed us with all the sincerity and gravity imaginable, that he expected two or three ships with troops and emigrants every day, and that he was just about laying out a township near the harbour for the purpose of locating them. In connexion with the Sovereign Chieftainship, he talks of making a carriage road to the Bay of Islands, of which, while he had any servants about him, he actually finished about one or two hundred yards. Another project which he seriously contemplates, is the making a canal across the Isthmus of Panama. What bearing the latter scheme has upon the Bay of Islands road or the New Zealand Chieftainship, I could not discover; but they appear to be intimately connected with one another in his mind, at least. Notwithstanding a feeling of pity for himself and his family, we could not help being amused with the serious and solemn manner in which he spoke of his various past, present, and future undertakings, appealing every now and then to the

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Baroness for confirmation, which she, to her credit, never withheld. Whether the frequent repetition of the same schemes taught her to believe in their truth, or whether she deemed it useless to contradict him, I do not know, but she invariably and good-naturedly bore willing testimony to everything the Baron asserted. It is proper to mention that while the Baron's family bore every appearance of being in want of all the comforts and many of the necessaries of life, every effort that the kindest hospitality could suggest was made for our comfort. If anything were wanting, we were politely told it was because it could not be procured. We had no bread at supper; but to prevent our supposing that that circumstance was in the slightest degree to be attributed to the poverty of our host, we were informed that the last bag of flour was only finished the day before we arrived, and that a new supply was daily expected from Sydney, and had most likely arrived in our own vessel. The absence of wine and spirits was in a similar manner ingeniously accounted for by the fact of the Baron having a great regard for Father Mathew's principles, which he practically carried out by the total disuse of wine and spirits in his household. We could have forgiven him had he had not insisted on making us converts for the night, but he could not help himself.

Being anxious to hear the Baron's views on the political prospects of the country, I took the liberty of asking whether there was any chance of immediately establishing a Government in New Zealand, and what form of Government would best meet the wishes of the people generally. I felt that in putting such a question I might seem to have forgotten or disbelieved all that he had already communicated regarding his own pretensions. However, he took no offence, but gave me a very distinct and accu-

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rate idea of the state of the country, and the various schemes proposed by the European population for the establishment of order. He informed me that three plans had been proposed, the first being to place the supreme power in the hands of one native chief. This was a scheme which he himself highly disapproved. The idea of transforming a blanketed chief into a King of New Zealand he treated with indignation. The second, which was to establish a mixed Government, consisting of native chiefs and the more respectable European settlers, was nearly equally objectionable; but the third plan, that of investing some distinguished European with supreme authority, coincided fully with his views, and as a matter of course met with our entire approval. The matter being so far settled, I then asked him if any person had been thought of as fit to wield the sceptre. He replied with great gravity that he himself was the person deemed most worthy at present, and addressing himself to the whole of us, he concluded his remarks by very disinterestedly telling us if we were to become purchasers of land in the country, and that if any of us should be deemed more fit than himself, he would support us; on the other hand, if he should be deemed the fittest person himself, he would expect that we should support him, which we promised faithfully to do.

Highly refreshed by the Baron's conversation and a few hours of sleep, we arose early in the morning with the intention of proceeding on our journey; but our host anticipated our intentions, for he was up before us, and was very anxious we should wait breakfast, which we were obliged to decline. He then insisted on showing us a portion of his dominions, and pressed us very much to lease some of his lands, offering the most advantageous terms; but, knowing beforehand that he merely occupied them himself through

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the forbearance of the natives, we could not then at least fall into his views: we however satisfied him by praising their fertility and great value.

The above sketch of the Baron de Theiry, a personage who has been deemed worthy of the notice of the British Government, may prove interesting to you, tending as it does, to a certain extent, to exhibit the true character of a pretender--a man of good education and manners, who possesses considerable ability, though impracticable for any good or useful purpose, who, while his aspirations are so high, has, with criminal indifference, allowed his children to grow up in total ignorance. His eldest son, or heir apparent, is said to be in every respect a native. The Baron, however, is not a solitary instance of an educated man mis-spending in the forming of wild and visionary schemes the time which he ought in duty to have devoted to the education of his family. So much for "Charles, by the grace of God, Sovereign Chief of New Zealand." I must now endeavour to give you some idea of our journey to this place, together with the troubles and dangers attending it, both by land and water.

On arrival at the native settlement we found everything safe, and the natives busy cooking their breakfast, which, like that of the Irish, and, I regret to say, of the Highlanders, consists almost always of potatoes. The natives of this country have a particular method of cooking their food by means of what is called a native oven, somewhat similar, I have no doubt, to that which was used by the ancient Fingalians. The native oven is simply a shallow pit, dug in the ground, and filled with small rounded stones; over these stones a fire of wood is lighted, and when the stones are supposed to be sufficiently heated, they are all removed, with the exception of the bottom layer, on which a tier of potatoes is placed, and over that another layer of

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stones, and so on till the pit is nearly filled; the rest of the hot stones are placed over all, and covered with a layer of fern or dry flax, as a protection from the earth, of which a sufficient quantity is thrown on the top to prevent the heat from escaping. They not only cook their potatoes, but also their pork and every other article of food, in this frying, steaming manner, and the meat is very frequently clean and well cooked. On the potatoes thus cooked, together with some biscuit and ham which we brought from the ship, we all made a good breakfast, and having secured our portmanteaus and trunks by means of slips of the native flax (a very convenient substitute for rope) on the backs of the natives, we proceeded on our journey, the first part of the road being along the banks of the river through a rather extensive and level valley, covered with a magnificent forest of kauri and kaikatea trees, two of the most valuable and finest woods in the country. A New Zealand road or foot-path, especially in the interior of the country, presents very few objects of interest; at all events, the fatigue of travelling in a very rainy day, such as we had, is more than enough to engage the attention of the traveller. All that I can tell you of our first day's journey is, that during the first five or six miles we followed the natives through a fine and fertile valley, eminently adapted for cultivation. We then ascended a hill covered with wood and vines to the very top. We had no sooner arrived at the top, than we had to descend into a steep and deep gully, and up again the side of another hill, and so on over steep hills and deep valleys until the evening, when, wet and weary, we were glad to find ourselves approaching a small native settlement in a sweet little valley, where our guides proposed staying for the night. The inhabitants, as we soon discovered, were a portion of the same tribe, and rain-

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ing though it was, nearly all the men, women, and children came out of their huts to see the pakehas, or strangers, as all Europeans are called. After satisfying their curiosity by a close inspection of our persons, and exciting their cupidity by the sight of our baggage, our chief guide was desired to request us to follow him to a small hut which had been vacated for our accommodation. This being my first introduction to savage life, I dare say you will expect me to be somewhat particular in my description. The hut or ware assigned for our use was neither the very best, nor perhaps the worst, in the village; and though very likely a most comfortable residence in the estimation of a New Zealand Chief, it presented anything but the promise of a comfortable night to a person not fully initiated into the mysteries of a New Zealand life. The framework was built of light sticks, the walls being about three feet high, and the roof about four feet; the whole length of the building not more than ten or twelve feet, and the breadth about six or seven. The walls and roof were covered over or thatched with strong wiry grass, which served to keep out the rain pretty well. The door was precisely in the centre of one side of the building, and was the only opening into it. Its dimensions were exactly sufficient, and not more than sufficient, to enable a person to creep through on all-fours. The inside contained no furniture either in the shape of chairs, stools, or table--such having never been in use either by the present New Zealanders, or their fathers before them. The floor was, however, very carefully strewed with litter--more, perhaps, for the accommodation of small inseparable, but rather disagreeable (to strangers at least) companions of the natives, than the comfort of the travellers. A small space was reserved for the wood fire, which burned in the centre, with a smoke

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intolerable to European eyes, and injurious even to those of the aborigines. Such were our night's quarters---small enough, you will admit, for ourselves, our luggage, and our chief guide, who, as a part of his duty, insisted on remaining with us during the night, in order to look after the luggage, for the safety of which he deemed his honour as a chief to be involved. Being wet to the skin, we, as a matter of course, took the first opportunity of changing our clothes and hanging them up to dry; we then, in native fashion (which all Europeans acquire with wonderful facility), wrapped ourselves up in our blankets, and otherwise enjoyed ourselves how we could. Before the night was far advanced, the natives, who are invariably hospitable, brought us a quantity of potatoes and pork, cooked in the native fashion. The pork had been killed since our arrival, and the weather being very unfavourable for any outside cooking, it was rather unclean -- so much so, that although exceedingly hungry, I was under the necessity of feeding on the potatoes and a small piece of biscuit: the kindness of the natives was nevertheless equally deserving of my gratitude. Our active companions in the litter attacked us so furiously during the night, that none of our party enjoyed much rest; we were consequently prepared for a start early in the morning. As we were about leaving the village, our guide informed us that the resident chief was desirous of shaking hands with us. He also informed us, that the said chief expected a present of tobacco as a return for his hospitality. Both these duties we at once discharged to his satisfaction. We left the little settlement with the intention of breakfasting with some one of the missionaries at Waimate, which we understood was not very far distant. The weather was still wet, and though the character of the country was much

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changed, being much more level and freer of timber than that we had passed the day before, it was still unfavourable for travelling, being covered with very tall fern. On our road that day, and for the greater part of the day before, we noticed several straight lines like those made by surveyors: inquiring of the natives what they were intended for, they gave us to understand that they were the boundary lines of land purchased by Mr. Clarke, one of the missionaries, whose lands we had been travelling over that day, as well as the greater part of the former. If this be correct, Mr. Clarke has assuredly not been unmindful of the things of this world, or ignorant of the quality of land, as his lines embrace not only a vast extent of country, but also the very best land in the district. To what use he and his family can convert so much land, it is difficult to conceive. Perhaps he has merely been employed as the agent of the Society, and other missionaries, in making the contract with the natives. As we approached the Missionary station of Waimate, we saw several flocks of merino sheep, which appeared to thrive well, the carcass being large and the wool longer than those of the same description of sheep in New South Wales.

Between one and two o'clock we came in sight of the cultivated fields and comfortable-looking houses and church of Waimate--a sight which gladdened us not a little, after wandering for nearly two days starved and hungry in the wild woods. Fatigued, hungry, and wet as we were, we never for a moment doubted that we should meet with a hospitable, if not a warm reception, from our countrymen in a strange and a savage land, more especially as the very character, profession, and even name of missionaries, comprehended in themselves everything kind and good in our nature. We had, it is true, heard something to the con-

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trary; but the parties accusing the missionaries were not the most reputable, and we deemed that their reports might not be depended upon. They were, generally speaking, runaway sailors and escaped convicts, who went about demoralising the natives: it might be therefore wrong to countenance such people, or to show them even kindness; it might be throwing pearls before swine; and as we were neither sailors nor convicts, we doubted not that our reception would be kind and friendly. Learning from the natives the name of one of the occupiers of the three best and most commodious-looking houses in the settlement, we boldly went up to the door of one of them, and made the usual sign that we sought admittance. The inmates seemed in no hurry to answer our call; but we were not much surprised at this, as they might perhaps be overtaken by the arrival of strangers, and the parlour might have required some arranging before admitting us. After giving us sufficient time for any speculations of that or any other description we might choose to indulge in, the door was at length solemnly and slowly opened by an artificially-grave and reverend-looking personage (in a threadbare brown coat, the representative of a former black), who stood with much precision exactly in the very centre of the opening he had made--thereby intimating, as well as by his cold and unsympathising features, that no small effort would be required on our part to move him out of it. But hunger, wet, and fatigue are powerful stimulants to exertion, especially when the storming of a comfortable fort is the object in view. We addressed this grave-looking personage by asking if he himself was at home; to which he answered in the affirmative, assuring us that it was he himself (as we had already shrewdly guessed) who stood before us in the door. I then introduced myself and the other three gentlemen; but our names fell idly on his ear

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I then mentioned that we were fatigued, and even hungry, but without further effect upon our grave friend than an expression of wonder that such a result should attend so short a journey: he also, of his own accord, informed us that a few hours would now bring us to the Bay of Islands. He even went so far as to offer one horse for the use of the four--as if a horse could allay hunger and overcome fatigue, or at all meet the object we had in view. After some further conversation, during which the missionary discovered that the natives had led us twenty or thirty miles out of the usual track to suit some purpose of their own, he began to think that by possibility we might be somewhat in need of food and a short rest; or perhaps, seeing our firm determination not to leave his door, he at length asked us to come in and partake of some refreshment, after which we should have time enough to proceed on our journey. This was precisely what we wished, being determined that once inside his door, it would be rather an undertaking to drive us out for that day at least. We had already experienced enough of travelling to know that it was at all times unwise to leave certain good quarters, as the Missionary houses were reported to be, for an unknown road at a late hour of the day. While we had so much difficulty in effecting an entrance, it is fair towards our host that I should state, that once in his house, we were extremely well treated; but I hope I shall never be again under the necessity of forcing hospitality in a similar manner.

The missionaries, or rather the funds of the Society, have made great improvements at Waimate. It has quite the appearance of an English farm, with well-cultivated fields and fences. The soil, however, is not very rich, being rather light; but it grows beautiful clover, and seems well adapted for all European grasses.

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Judging by the number of houses at Waimate, the Missionary establishment must be rather extensive. But it is doubtful if the missionaries bestow the same care upon their Missionary duties, as they appear to do on their fields and houses. They have, at all events, not neglected the building of a church, which is a very neat and comfortable wooden structure. When I know more of the state of the country, I shall be better able to inform you regarding Missionary operations in New Zealand. At present it is not fair to offer any opinions on the subject.

Refreshed by a comfortable night's rest at the Mission-house, we again started for the Bay of Islands, but not until we had partaken of a very good breakfast. After travelling for several hours through a gently undulating and open country, with fine clumps of wood here and there, we arrived towards evening at a creek which impeded farther progress till the recession of the tide, which unfortunately happened to be then at the full. Having to wait for several hours, the natives availed themselves of the opportunity of cooking some potatoes, knowing that it was most likely the only chance they had of a dinner for the day. Another Missionary (the chief) station, Paihia, was within a few miles; and having succeeded so well at the last, we naturally expected that we should have the same good fortune at Paihia. We therefore abstained from partaking of the natives' potatoes, thinking that some better fare was in reserve for us at the Mission station. How woefully we were deceived, you shall soon learn. It was dark before the creek admitted of our passing, and even then we were transported on the shoulders of the poor natives. About eight o'clock we arrived at the Missionary establishment of Paihia. The first bouse being that of a Mr. Baker, and knowing no difference between one missionary and another,

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we went up towards it; but before reaching the door, that hospitable man, having heard the sound of our footsteps, and having doubtless some apprehension, that we might be strangers seeking a night's lodging, hurried to the gate and informed us at once that we could obtain no quarters at Paihia, either from himself or from any other. We in vain told the tale of hunger and fatigue, and asked if there was any inn or other house that would sell accommodation for the night; but such a thing was not permitted at the Mission station. Mr. Baker had never experienced any privations himself, at least since his arrival in New Zealand, for he carried on his cheeks the accumulated fat of several hundred pigs. By way of getting expeditiously rid of us, he offered to send his boat and natives with us to the head of the Bay of Islands, where a storekeeper resided, to whom, we informed the hospitable Mr. Baker, we had some letters of introduction.

For the storekeeper's house, in a dark and rather stormy winter's night, we started about eight o'clock, in the Mission boat, where, after knocking about for an hour and a half, we at last arrived, thinking, in our ignorance of New Zealand hospitality, that there, at least, we could lay down our weary limbs, and obtain something to appease our hunger. We had by this time sadly repented having refused the potatoes from our kind-hearted natives. Disappointment still seemed our lot; for after sending in our letters of introduction, (we had not the courage to go to the house,) the storekeeper came down to the beach, and after making several regrets for our condition, still more regretted his own utter inability to give us relief, stating as a reason why he could not receive us for the night, that his two maid-servants had married that day, and that he had no person in the house but his wife, who, we were afterwards told, is the

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better man of the two, though ill disposed towards strangers. We intimated that we should be content with even shelter in an out-house, or anywhere, but to no purpose. I at last asked him if there was any rock near the place that would afford us any protection from the weather. This aroused some little natural sensibility, and though he could not ask us to his own house, he said he had a friend at Kororarika, a Mr. ------, (a Jewish publican, as we afterwards ascertained,) who would, on his account, accommodate us for the night.

Kororarika being six miles distant, and having no boat of our own, we felt at a loss to discover how bis friend could benefit us. But the storekeeper, though utterly devoid of hospitality, had still sufficient interest with the missionaries to order the natives to transport us in their boat from his residence. After uttering a few words to them in unintelligible native, he told us they agreed to convey us to his friend's house; and then said good-night, though we at least felt it to be anything but that.

We had no sooner stepped into the boat than the Christian natives gave us to understand that a dollar each was the passage-money, and the only condition on which we could be brought to the house of the storekeeper's friend. This we at once promised to give, and at ten o'clock we were landed at the first light on the beach of Kororariki, which they informed us was the publican's house.

Leaving my fellow-travellers to look after the luggage, I made for the light; but, on entering the house, I discovered that the natives had deceived us, the place we were in quest of being at the other end of the beach. The owner of the house, however, (who happened to be surgeon of the settlement,) considering the lateness of the hour, and the trouble we had already encountered, offered, like a good

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Samaritan, to do everything he could for us. But having small accommodation of his own, and there being so many of us, we declined availing ourselves of his hospitality, and requested the favour of his directing us to a place where we could take up our quarters during our residence. Whereupon he accompanied us to an adjoining house kept by a person who had been at one time comfortable and respectable, though then reduced to the level of a Kororarika grog-seller. Here we were very glad to take refuge for the night, more especially as we were promised for supper the remains of a good dinner which had that day been prepared for the masters of some whaling vessels then in the harbour. Our landlord could not furnish us with beds; but that was a matter of no moment, as we had mattresses with blankets of our own, which we laid down on the floor of the room, where we slept with much comfort.

I fear you will form a very poor opinion of the comforts and hospitality of New Zealand from the above account, but that is no fault of mine: I can only speak of things as I find them. It will, at least, serve to give you some idea of the miseries of new countries, and the hardships that new settlers have to encounter.

Kororarika, from which I now write to you, is the chief settlement at the Bay of Islands, and, properly speaking, the capital of New Zealand, containing, as it does, a larger European population than any other part of the country. Besides Kororarika, there are various other settlements in and around the Bay of Islands: but this being nearer the entrance of the harbour, affording good anchorage and the best landing, is the most frequented by ships, and consequently the most populous.

Kororarika owes its rise and progress almost entirely to a person called Turner, said to be an emancipist from Syd-

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ney, who now owns more land and property in the settlement than any other European. This person arrived at the Bay, some years ago, without a shilling. After working for a time as a sawyer, he saved sufficient money to purchase from the natives a piece of land on this beach, on which he erected a grog-shop, by means of which he is said to have made a small fortune. There are now so many competitors in the same line, that he has been induced to retire from the field, and to assume the more respectable occupation of a general dealer and money-lender. But I must reserve for my next a more particular account of the Bay of Islands and its inhabitants, in which I am likely to be delayed for a week or two longer.