Reminiscences of Alexander Berry [New Zealand chapters]

Alexander Berry

First published by Angus and Robertson in 1912

Digitised and made available online by the University of Auckland Libraries and Learning Services.

Epub © 2014 Early New Zealand Books Collection

ISBN 978-1-927289-55-6

[TITLE PAGES]

REMINISCENCES OF ALEXANDER BERRY

[Page ii is blank]

[Inserted unpaginated illustration]

ALEXANDER BERRY

REMINISCENCES
OF
ALEXANDER BERRY

With Portrait and Illustrations

SYDNEY
ANGUS & ROBERTSON, LTD.
89 CASTLEREAGH STREET
1912

PRINTED BY

W. C. PENFOLD & Co., 183 PITT STREET, SYDNEY

FOR PRIVATE CIRCULATION

[CONTENTS]

CONTENTS

Introduction ............ vii.

Chapter I – Birth and Early Training.. 1

Chapter II. – First Voyage to Australia.. 10

Chapter III. – Voyage to New Zealand.. 27

Chapter IV. – Adventures with Natives.. 41

Chapter V. – In Captivity at Fiji.... 66

Chapter VI. – Massacre and Shipwreck.. 93

Chapter VII. – Adventures in Spanish Waters... 123

Chapter VIII. – The Return to London.... 153

Chapter IX. – Second and Third Voyages to Australia........ 171

Chapter X. – Retirement from Activity.... 184

[Page vi is blank]

INTRODUCTION

INTRODUCTION

MR. ALEXANDER BERRY.

On Wednesday, 17th September, 1873, a colonist who had nearly completed the ninety-second year of his life, and who had been known in New South Wales for sixty-five years, closed his career in this world. The removal of one who was for a long time an active member of this community, and whose enterprise and large possessions have caused his name to be familiar to the people, naturally awakens a desire to learn something of his earlier days.

Alexander Berry, one of a numerous family, was born in Fifeshire, Scotland, on the 30th November, 1781. He was sent to school at Cupar, the country town, where among his schoolfellows were Sir David Wilkie and Lord Campbell. After leaving school he went to St. Andrews University, and thence to the University of Edinburgh, where he passed through a course of study in preparation for the medical profession. Having obtained an appointment in the service of the East India

Company, he went out to India, and spent some years in that country. Then entering upon mercantile enterprise he visited Australia, New Zealand, and several islands in the Pacific. In the year 1808 he first came to Port Jackson, as owner of the ship "City of Edinburgh."

In the latter part of 1809 he visited the coast of New Zealand in order to procure a cargo of spars for the Cape of Good Hope. In December of that year, while he was at anchor in the Bay of Islands, some Maoris whose confidence he had gained on a former visit came to him, and told him that a British ship had been taken by the natives at Whangaroa, a spot about twenty miles to the north-west of the Bay. He resolved to proceed to Whangaroa, to ascertain the fate of the crew, and if there were any survivors to attempt their rescue, and as soon as he had completed his cargo and made arrangements for the protection of the ship, he set out with three armed boats for the scene of the disaster. Bad weather compelled him to return without reaching Whangaroa. But he was not a man to yield in the face of difficulties and dangers.

In his own narrative of the event he says: – "Having recruited my strength and spirits, I was shocked at the ideal of leaving my country-

men in the hands of the savages, and determined to make a second attempt. We had this time better weather and reached the harbour without any difficulty." The vessel whose captain and crew had been killed in Whangaroa harbour was the "Boyd," Captain Thompson. She sailed from the Thames on the 10th March, 1809, with convicts, and arrived at Port Jackson on the 14th August. From this port she sailed to New Zealand for a cargo of timber.

Captain Berry, in a letter to her owner, Mr. George Brown, thus relates the issue of that unfortunate voyage: – "We found the wreck of the "Boyd" in shoal water at the top of the harbour, a most melancholy picture of wanton mischief. The natives had cut her cables and towed her up the harbour, till she had grounded, and then set her on fire and burnt her to the water's edge. In her hold were seen the remains of the cargo, coals, salted seals, skins, and planks. Her guns, iron standards, &c, were lying on the top, having fallen in when the decks were consumed."

The history of the attack and massacre, as related to him by one of the survivors, was as follows: – "The ship was taken the third morning after her arrival The captain, it

appears, had been rather too hasty in resenting some slight theft. Early in the morning the ship was surrounded by a great number of canoes, and many of the natives gradually insinuated themselves on board. Tippahee, a chief of the Bay of Islands, who. had been twice at Port Jackson, also arrived. Tippahee went into the cabin, and after paying his respects to the captain, begged a little bread for his men; but the captain received him rather slightingly and desired him to go away and not trouble him at present, as he was busy. The proud old savage (who had been a constant guest at the Governor's table in Port Jackson) was highly offended at his treatment, immediately left the cabin, and after stamping a few minutes on the deck, went into his canoe. After breakfast the captain went ashore with four hands, and no other arms but his fowling piece. From the account of the savages, as soon as he landed, they rushed upon him; he had only time to fire his piece, and it killed a child. As soon as the captain left the ship, Tippahee, who remained alongside in his canoe, went again on board. A number of the sailors were repairing sails on the quarter deck, and the remainder were carelessly dispersed about the decks, and fifty

of the natives were sitting on the deck. In a moment they all started up and each knocked his man on the head, a few ran wounded below, four or five escaped up the rigging; and in a few seconds the savages had possession of the ship. The boy Davidson escaped into the hold, where he lay concealed for several days, till they were fairly glutted with human blood, when they spared his life."

A woman and two infant children were also spared. The woman described to Captain Berry the manner in which, after being spared by Tippahee on board the ship and sent ashore, she was a second time saved from being murdered. "As soon as she landed a number of men started up, and marched towards her with their patoo-patoos; a number of women ran screaming betwixt them, covered her with their clothes; and by their tears and entreaties saved her life."

The natives spoke freely of the massacre of Captain Thompson and his men, evidently regarding it as a most heroic exploit, in the same way as a party of British tars look back with pleasure to some successful attempt against an enemy's ship of superior force. They readily mentioned the name of the ship and captain and the number of men and guns.

When asked the reason of the attack, they replied, "Because the captain was a bad man." On enquiring what he had done, they answered that, one of their chiefs having secreted a carpenter's axe beneath his clothes, the theft was detected before he left the ship, in consequence of which the captain tied him to the capstan, where he left him for several hours, and threatened to flog him. On being told that the conduct of the chief merited the treatment he received, they replied that any indignity offered to a chief was never forgiven. "I then," continues Captain Berry, "enquired if there were any survivors, to which they readily replied in the affirmative, mentioning their names with great familiarity and even with an appearance of kindness and sympathy. They were then informed that we had come to Whangaroa for the purpose of delivering the captives. I then pointed to my men and their muskets on the one hand, and to the heaps of axes on the other, bidding them take their choice, and either deliver the captives peaceably, when they should be paid for their ransom, or I would otherwise attack them. The chief, after a moment's hesitation, replied, with great quickness, that trading was

better than fighting; then give us axes and you shall have your prisoners."

After considerable delay, and repeated trials to the patience and courage of Captain Berry and his party, the captives were given up to them. The woman and her infant child and the boy Davidson were first restored. With greater difficulty they afterwards prevailed on the natives to hand over to them the infant daughter of Mr. Commissary Broughton. Two chiefs, who were before acquainted with Captain Berry, Metenangha and Towaki, assisted him by their influence in recovering the captives.

The "City of Edinburgh" left New Zealand in January, 1810, for the Cape; but they had a perilous voyage, being driven among the ice of the southern ocean; and after finding shelter under Terra del Fuego, they sailed to Valparaiso, and reached that port in May following. Thence they passed on to Lima, where the boy Davidson shipped for England in the "Archduke Charles." The woman died at Callao; her child was kindly taken care of by a Spaniard and the little daughter of Commissary Broughton was nursed with great tenderness by a Spanish lady, Signora Rico. Captain Berry had some

difficulty in inducing these kind persons to give up the children; but in course of time they were sent to Sydney, and reached this port in safety.

After this voyage Mr. Berry resolved to settle in New South Wales; and entered into business with Mr. Edward Wollstonecraft. He married the sister of this gentleman, Miss Elizabeth Wollstonecraft. In the year 1820, in company with Lieutenant Johnston, he explored a large and rich tract of country in the valley of the Shoalhaven River, of which the government of the day made him a free grant. It was a splendid estate; and as he was the first to perceive its value he had the opportunity of turning it to profitable purposes. Shortly after obtaining possession of this grant, he came to the conclusion that the Shoalhaven, which was shut off from the sea by a sand bar, might be made open to navigation by cutting a dyke from its channel into the Crookhaven which runs into the sea about seven miles further south. The project seemed to many a sheer impossibility. But Mr. Berry had the sagacity to discern its feasibility and the resolution to persevere in carrying it out. He obtained a large number of assigned servants and had the dyke cut,

in the year 1825, thereby conferring a great advantage upon the country.

In 1832 his partner, Mr. Wollstonecraft died in Sydney. In 1845 he lost his wife, who died at the age of 63, leaving no children. Mrs. Berry and her brother were both buried in St. Leonards cemetery.

Mr. Berry was one of the nominee members of the Legislative Council, when there was only one House. And when the new Constitution came into effect on the 13th May, 1856, he was appointed by the Donaldson Government a member of the Upper House. He retained this position till May, 1861.

In politics he took a conservative view of affairs; and looked with strong disapproval on the innovations of parliamentary and municipal democracy. In private life he was a hearty and steadfast friend to those who came within the circle of his favour. – Extract from obituary notice in the Town and Country Journal, September 27, 1873.

The reminiscences and autobiography so spiritedly written by Mr. Berry in extreme old age conclude abruptly. At the last line are the words: "6th April, 1872, A. B.," probably the date when Mr. Berry, under the pressure of increasing infirmities, laid aside the pen;

although the manuscript bears, here and there, marks of revision which were probably added subsequently during the last few months of his life.

CHAPTER III.

CHAPTER III.

Continuation of events subsequent to Captain A. Berry's second arrival at Sydney after the voyage to Norfolk Island – Major Foveaux, Acting-Governor at Sydney – Arrangements made by the Colonial Government for payment of Berry's Services, and the inconvenience to which he is thereby subjected – Voyage to New Zealand for freight of ship – Arrival of the "City of Edinburgh" at the Bay of Islands – Interviews with Maori chiefs Tarra, Tupe, and others – Proceeds to repair the ship – Takes up his quarters ashore and forms a camp – Threatened with an attack from hostile natives in the absence of the friendly chief.

On my return to Sydney, after my voyage to Norfolk Island and thence to Van Diemen's Land, I found Commodore Bligh yet residing at Government House, and still under arrest, but that Major Foveaux was now the Acting-Governor. He had been Commandant at Norfolk Island at the time that the orders came out from England to evacuate that place. On the receipt of those orders he had immediately proceeded to Sydney, and (as I was informed) was then recommended by Governor King at once to proceed to England

in order to prevent the evacuation from being carried into effect. The order for the evacuation of Norfolk Island was due to Captain Hunter, who had lost his ship (the "Sirius") off that island; where he was afterwards detained for many months, before he had an opportunity of returning to Sydney. This had naturally given Captain Hunter a dislike to the place, and had caused him to advise that its occupation should be abandoned. Major Foveaux, however, gave such a favourable report of the island that the authorities at home ordered him immediately to return to Sydney, with the understanding that – provided the evacuation had not been proceeded with, beyond a certain extent – all further proceedings in that direction should be desisted from, and that he should resume the government of the same. On the arrival of Major Foveaux at New South Wales, he found that my expedition had been fatal to his expectations, and he, therefore, assumed the government of New South Wales as the senior officer to Major Johnston. Having assumed the government, instead of continuing the preparation of the timber for the freight of my ship, this officer gave directions that all the timber which was then ready for me should

MAJOR FOVEAUX

be employed in the erection of new barracks for the soldiers.

When I demanded payment for the services I had rendered the Government, Major Foveaux replied that I had been so long on the voyage that the ship was supposed to be lost, and that it had consequently appeared useless to provide any more timber. He said, however, that there was a quantity of timber in the dockyard, and that if I would accept that as payment in full, he would allow me to take it; if not, that he would forfeit the penalty, and give me a bill for two thousand pounds on the Treasury. I pointed out to him that the penalty had nothing to do with the freight, after it had been fairly earned; and that I had only undertaken the voyage upon the express condition that the freight was to be paid in timber, as a return cargo to the Cape. But I told him, as I found he had not provided the timber, that I would accept the amount of freight due to me in money.

Major Foveaux refused this, saying, "No; I will give you the two thousand pounds."

I wrote to him that I must decline to accept that, and that I should appeal to the Home Government. And thus after labouring hard to procure a cargo to the Cape, I was left in

a sad dilemma, for I could not think of going round Cape Horn in an empty ship. Eventually, I was induced to make a voyage to the Fiji Islands, in hopes of procuring a cargo of sandal wood.

It was a singular thing that during all this time I had no opportunity of making any remittances to England, or to the Cape of Good Hope. There had not been a single ship by which I could send. Some time after my first arrival, a small vessel loaded with Cape produce had arrived, consigned to Mr. Robert Campbell, and this ship was, I heard, for sale. I thereupon sent for the captain, and offered to purchase her, for the purpose of sending her back to the Cape, but he told me that he had already agreed to sell her to Mr. Campbell. I was consequently compelled to leave all my letters and remittances for the Cape and for London, at Sydney, in duplicate – to be forwarded by the first opportunity that should offer.

When I came to settle with Mr. Lord, I found that he could only pay me by bills on his agent in London, to whom he had consigned large quantities of seal skins. I therefore enclosed Lord's bills to my agent in London, as well as the papers which related

VISITS NEW ZEALAND

to the Norfolk Island freight, but with instructions, after paying my liabilities in London, to send the balance to Mr. Shortt at the Cape. To Shortt himself I sent all the Treasury bills which 1 had procured in Tasmania. I believe, indeed, that the nominal amounts of the Treasury bills and Lord's bills were nearly the same. There was – as I have intimated – no ship to take any letters or remittances either to the Cape or to England, and I therefore left everything in duplicate in the hands of Mr. Lord to send by the first opportunity. My enclosures contained the first and second of the bills, and the third I took with me.

I intended to call at New Zealand for spars for the ship, and this coming to the knowledge of Governor Bligh he sent to me to request that I would take to the Bay of Islands a son of Tippahee – a young man of the name of Motara, who had made a voyage to England, where he had been treated with hospitality, and (as he said) had been introduced to King George the Third. Lord also asked me to take down to New Zealand a native of the Bay of Islands, named Metatau, who had been brought to Sydney in one of his ships. I consented to take them both, and treated both

with great kindness, Motara being allowed to dine at my table.

On the arrival of the ship at the Bay of Islands, she anchored at Tippuna, the residence of Tippahee – the chief whom I expected to be able to provide me with spars. As Motara was dressed like a gentleman, his relatives received him with great rejoicing. His father seemed friendly, but I found there were no spars in his district, and ascertained that such as I wanted could only be procured in an adjoining district from a chief named Tupe. I therefore determined to visit that chief, who lived at some considerable distance.

With this intention I started from Tippuna, but although I left that locality at an early hour, it was late in the afternoon before I reached Kowa Kowa – the residence of Tupe. The natives crowded round me in the most friendly manner; and when I asked for Tupe, a venerable old chief, blind in one eye, advanced towards the boat; the other natives making way for him. He seized me by the collar with both hands, and after the manner of his people greeted me by joining his nose to mine. This mode of salutation was, at first, rather startling. I asked if he was Tupe? He said: "No, I am Tarra. Tupe will be here

RELATIONS WITH MAORI CHIEFS

directly." Poor Tupe had, I found, a few European clothes, and wished to appear as respectable as possible to a stranger. At length he appeared in European garb. The natives as he came made way for him, and called out, "This is Tupe!"

I advanced towards him, but instead of joining noses, he took off his hat, made me a bow, and shook hands. I told Tupe that I wanted spars for my ship, and asked him if he could supply them? He said: "Oh yes," I then told him that the ship was at Tippuna, and asked him if he would accompany me on board as it was getting late? He stepped at once into my boat, where my fowling piece was lying on the stern-sheets. He seized the gun, and asking if it were loaded, he examined the pan and immediately discharged it. I almost suspected treachery, and ordered the men to keep their muskets in their hands. But Tupe was one of nature's gentlemen, and had only discharged the gun to show that he was well acquainted with the use of firearms. On the passage he constantly ordered the sailors to pull stronger. Other parts of his conversation were very amusing. He asked me how many wives King George had, to which I replied that he had only one. "Your

king then," said he, "must be a poor fellow compared with Tippahee, the chief of Tippuna, who has four wives." I asked him how many he had. He replied, dryly, "Only one." "Well, Tupe," I said, "You must be as poor a fellow as King George." "Oh," replied Tupe, "when there are more wives than one, there is never any peace in the house." On our arrival at the ship some refreshment was put on the table, and Tupe sat down and partook of it, but was very moderate both in eating and drinking; and when I offered to help him to some more, he said, "No, more, I thank you, sir," politely enough.

Next day Tupe steered my ship into Kororarika, and proved himself to be an excellent pilot. He knew the depth of the water everywhere, and also every sunken rock in the harbour. I suppose he must have acquired his knowledge from fishing with hook and line.

Next day he conducted me in a boat to the spar district, which was on the banks of a creek, several miles beyond Kowa Kowa. There I found a large quantity of old dry spars in the forest. These I launched into the river, and brought them down in a raft, and made arrangements for new spars.

The ship had always leaked more or less ever

REPAIRING THE SHIP

since we left the Cape, but I had never thought it was dangerous. I found, however, that it had increased very much on the passage from Sydney to New Zealand, and I therefore thought it would be advisable to endeavour to stop the leak in Kororarika Bay. At first I was almost afraid to communicate this to the captain, officers, and men, as New Zealand was a land of savages; but when I mentioned my intentions they were all much pleased with it, and I then converted the dry spars into stages for the men to work upon. I sent the carpenters to caulk the top sides, and immediately took measures to land and protect the stores and provisions on the beach; and on informing Tupe and Tarra of what I proposed, they erected a very comfortable cottage for my residence on the shore.

I had not decided on any plan for getting at the bottom of the ship. Some of the officers proposed to beach her, but to this I objected, and relied upon being able to devise some plan for getting her hove down. Soon after, when I came on board, I found that they had given the ship a "list" to one side, by rolling two water casks to the lee side of the ship, and this gave me the idea which led to the plan which I adopted.

I told the mate that I would heave out the keel of the ship by water casks attached to the mast heads, but he thought that the "bouncing," or jerking necessary to raise full water casks would endanger the masts. I told him that my plan was different; that I would hoist up empty water casks, and fill them afterwards with buckets and funnels, and that when it became necessary to right the ship, I would empty the casks with a spigot. The plan answered admirably. The ship was hove down and righted, like a piece of clockwork. The casks were attached to all three masts.

What a pity that this simple and easy way of getting at a ship's bottom did not occur to Captain Cook, when he repaired his ship at Endeavour River. It would have saved many lives at Batavia.

I soon found that the repairing of the ship's bottom was a more arduous matter than I had anticipated. The planking and timbers were sound, but the vessel had been, iron-fastened, and then coppered. The builder had taken every care to prevent the copper and iron from coming in contact. The heads of the iron spikes were punched into the planks, then covered with putty, and the heads of the iron bolts were covered with sheet lead; the bottom

REPAIRING THE SHIP

of the ship being covered with tarred canvas under the copper.

When the lead was removed the heads of the bolts were found to be destroyed. The iron spikes (each protected by a piece of putty) were also found to be destroyed, and the holes were filled up with black mud.

It was therefore necessary to refasten all the planking of the bottom. It so happened that a vessel from India, called the "Hebe," had been wrecked by striking on a rock at the entrance of Port Dalrymple; and shortly before I left Sydney some person had brought up to Port Jackson from Port Dalrymple a large quantity of iron spikes, obtained from the wreck of that vessel. All of these I had purchased as articles of trade for the Fiji Islands. These spikes – when passed through the hands of the blacksmiths, were as good as new ones, and were used to refasten the planks of the ship. Three or four thousand hardwood treenails were also used to refasten the bottom.

Some of the crew were able to saw timber, and I employed them to saw inch sheathing boards to sheath the bottom. About this time a whaling ship arrived in the bay. From the captain of this vessel I purchased a sufficiency

of oil to enable me to make up cheenam to put between the planks of the ship's bottom and the sheathing, and I converted a large quantity of shells into quicklime to make the cheenam. I had no nails to fasten the sheathing to the ship's bottom, but there was a large quantity of old iron hoops in the vessel, and these the blacksmith converted into sheathing nails.

I succeeded in repairing the ship beyond my most sanguine expectations, and when she was righted she was found to be as tight as a bottle. The repairs occupied about three months; but then I had to depend upon my own resources in a land of savages, and with a motley crew it could not be expected that at all times everything would go on smoothly.

Soon after commencing the repairs of the ship, Tupe informed me that he heard a report that a fleet of canoes intended to attack my camp at Kororarika, and afterwards to take the ship; but he assured me that he and his tribe would assist me in repelling the attack.

I thanked Tupe for the information he gave, but in reality I doubted its truth, as there was great jealously between the different tribes. I consequently did not take all the precaution which I ought to have done, and I heard no more of it. I remained on board the ship until

HOSTILE NATIVES

she was nearly on her broadside, when I went and took up my residence ashore.

The first night I spent ashore I felt very restless, perhaps from the novelty of my situation, and got out more than once to speak to the sentinals and see that all was right. The night was calm, and there was no sound to be heard but the roar of the reef. Tupe had sent two old muskets to be repaired by the blacksmith, and they had been put into my hut. At daybreak Tupe came into the hut while I was still in bed, shook hands with me, and took away his muskets. He said he was going away to his house at Kowa Kowa, but that he would be back in two or three days. Some time after, whilst I was still in bed, my Bengal servant came into the room and set down on the table a pot of hot water, for shaving purposes. Having done so, he said coolly and quietly, "There is a fleet of canoes coming round the point to attack us."

I jumped out of bed, pulled on my trousers, slipped on my coat, and, without stopping to dress myself further, ran out of the hut. I found every one on the alert, and armed; and a number of them were discharging their muskets. I ordered them to fire no more, as the canoes were too distant for the shots to

take effect. One of the men told me that they were firing to show the people in the canoes that they were prepared to receive them, and thought that this might perhaps induce them to go away.

CHAPTER IV.

CHAPTER IV.

Battle of Kororareka – Defeat of the Natives – Resumption of Friendly Relations – Faithful Conduct of the Chief Tupe – Deserters and their Punishment – Perilous Excursion into the Land of the Enemy – Escape from Death and Danger – The Devil in the Watch – Visit to the Friendly Islands, Tongatabu and Namuka – Reminiscences of Captain Cook – Tricks of Trade – Explorations in Namuka, one of the Habais – The great Navigator again – Taomal wants to go with his White Friend – "City of Edinburgh" sails away from the Habais for Fiji.

At that time there were two cannons on the beach, but they were not placed in working order; and as I came out of my hut, I called on the officer who had charge of the camp (a 'cute Yankee), and asked if these guns were loaded. He said that they were not, and that they had no cartridges made. "Had he any gunpowder?" "Yes," he had plenty. "Why then," I asked him, "did you not make cartridges?" His excuse was, that he had not been supplied with any cartridge paper. I immediately ran back into my hut, seized my stockings, and converted them into cartridges,

which were afterwards found to answer extremely well. During this interval, the hostile fleet had been collecting into one body, and they now began to move forward toward the camp. I had never fired off a big gun before, but I made shift to act as a gunner on this occasion. I took the best aim that I could, but the shot struck the water before it reached the canoes, and rebounding, rose again a little further away. At the very first discharge, there seemed to be some confusion in the fleet, and numbers of men were seen swimming in the water, and several of the canoes were capsized. I aimed with the second gun a little higher, and the ball went slap over their heads. The effect was electrical, for the whole fleet took to flight. There were two boats on the beach, and of these I at once availed myself. They were launched in an instant, filled with men, with muskets, and dispatched against the foe. The hostile armament had retired beyond Kororarika Point to hold a council of war. As soon as the men in the boats came in sight of the canoes they began to blaze away, and thereupon the Maori warriors threw themselves into the water and swam ashore. My men immediately took possession of the canoes, and towed them into the bay, where all

BATTLE OF KORORARIKA

were hauled up high and dry, beyond the reach of the tide. I looked about me and saw that there were many more natives on the beach than usual, and I thought, and still believe, that if the canoes had been successful many of them would have joined those who came to attack us. I think so because, after all the enemy had disappeared, one of the Maoris – a grim old warrior – rose and addressed me thus: –

"You have conquered Waraki." Waraki was the commander of the fleet of canoes. He was the chief of "Waitangi," Anglice, the Waterfall. I had never seen this chief. But Metatau, the native I had brought from Sydney, was in command of some of the canoes belonging to Tippuna.

As I have already stated, Tupe had left me early in the morning; and on his way home he looked back and saw the canoes. He immediately returned to the ship, gave them warning of their danger, and went on board to assist in defending the ship. The vessel was then hove out and lying on her broadside.

Some weeks after, Motara paid me a visit. He pretended to be very innocent of the attack upon me, and said that two of his father's canoes, having been stolen by the bad people,

were then in my possession, and he therefore begged that I would return them. 1 did not believe one word that he said, but I felt really sorry to see him so much altered, and suffering from bronchitis. I gave him back the canoes, and he died shortly afterwards. Soon afterwards others came with the same fictitious tale, but I always returned the canoes. This may appear very injudicious, but I considered that they were so cowed by their abortive attack that there was little danger of their making any similar attempt; besides which I was well aware that the construction of these canoes was an affair of great labour to these poor savages, and of great importance to them for the purpose of fishing; and further, that I was an intruder on their country for my own personal advantage.

Some time subsequent to this, about ten or a dozen of my crew – all Sydney men – came to me one day and demanded that I should increase their rations during the remainder of my stay in New Zealand. I told them that their demand was perfectly unreasonable, and that I would not comply with it. "In that case," said the ringleader, "we will do no more work." "If you act in this manner," I replied, "I will stop your rations altogether." The

DESERTERS

ringleader rejoined that they would "support themselves by fishing, and get other food from the natives." And thus we parted.

Two or three days after – whilst I was standing on the beach, in conversation with Tupe and the captain – the ringleader passed in front of us in a state of bravado. Having gone past us, he launched a canoe which was lying on the beach, and began to fish. Tupe looked at him, and then launched another canoe, paddled to him, and ordered him to take the canoe ashore. The man refused, and Tupe said, "if you don't go ashore instantly, I shall capsize the canoe, and leave you to swim for your life." The fellow went ashore, meekly enough, and the captain and I went to the spot where they both landed. Tupe addressed the man to this effect: – "You and your comrades are bad men, and disobey your officers, but I shall not countenance any such doings in New Zealand. I will neither allow you to fish in any of my canoes, nor will I permit any of my people to give you any food."

At the commencement of this outbreak the captain overhauled all the firearms, and accidentally exploded some gunpowder, which scorched him severely. He was therefore

irritable and cross. The man I had been alluding to said something to him, and the captain turned upon him very angrily, and stopped him at once. I interfered and said, "allow the man to speak; I wish to hear what he says. Perhaps he is not so bad as you think he is." The man said, "Sir, I am glad to hear you say so, and will convince you that what you say is true. I will return to my duty, and will prevail upon my comrades to do the same." Thus the mutinous strike was quashed – mainly through the fidelity of Tupe.

Some time after this last affair was settled, I was informed one morning that the two sentinals who guarded the encampment had deserted with their muskets, being, of course, decoyed away by the chiefs. I immediately dispatched two boats with an officer in each, their instructions being to bring Tippahee and Waraki (the quondam commander of the fleet which had attacked me) to my camp. They arrived about breakfast time, and I invited them both to breakfast. After breakfast I entered upon the business of the day. I complained to these two chiefs that some of their subordinates had decoyed my two sentinals away, and that if they were not brought back to me I would take both of them away to

NATIVE HONOUR

England, and would deliver them both to King George. Tupe and Tarra attended the meeting, and both were taciturn – never saying a word. At last Tupe said, "Will you take Tupe and Tarra with you to England, as well as the other chiefs?" Now I was quite sure that Tupe must know perfectly well that I did not suspect him, and I thought he was fishing for a compliment. I therefore gave him an ambiguous response – that if I took all the chiefs of the Bay of Islands to England, I would take Tupe and Tarra also. Tupe replied, "That may be European custom, but it is not New Zealand custom. The New Zealanders never punish their friends because their enemies have injured them." He then said, "Give me three days' liberty, and I pledge myself to bring in the two men. And even if I do not succeed in recovering the men, I shall return at the end of three days, and you may do with me what you please."

The venerable Tarra then arose and thus addressed me: "Tupe has spoken well; do what Tupe says; I know that Tupe will keep his word. Tarra will remain in the camp as security for Tupe; and if Tupe does not keep his promise, kill Tarra." I was much vexed at my foolish joke being taken thus seriously.

but I merely said – "I accept Tupe's proposal, and have no doubt but that he will keep his word." Neither of the other chiefs said a word, but looked very gloomy. They considered themselves my prisoners, but I kept them under no restraint, and they always had their meals at my table.

I thought that Commodore Waraki seemed unwell and inquired into his case. He said that a demon had entered into his body and was gnawing his entrails. I told him that I would give him something to expel the demon if he liked to take it. He said that he wished it very much. I gave him a few small doses of calomel, whereby the demon was effectually expelled. On my second visit to New Zealand, I saw a strange chief one day seated on the gangway. I asked him his name. He said he was Waraki, and that he had visited the ship in order to thank me for expelling the demon which was devouring him.

Tupe returned, before the expiry of three days, with the two deserters in custody, and both in hempen handcuffs. One of them was a native of Tahiti, and the other an Irishman, of the name of McEwers, who was rather a favourite.

I was puzzled what punishment to give to

MOCK MAORI FIGHT

the deserters, but ultimately sentenced the Irishman to receive twelve lashes, to be laid on by the Tahiti man, who laid it on so lightly that a schoolboy might have received it without wincing. After it was over, the Irishman turned round and said, "I am much obliged to you for being so lenient with me; I have acted like a fool, and deserved a much greater punishment." I was much pleased with having got out of this dilemma, and there was a. fete at night, in which all the Maoris joined. Amongst other things a mock English duel was fought with pistols, when Tupe expressed his abhorrence of such a barbarous practice. Then they showed a dramatic Maori fight. One man was slain, and all his party fled, the victors making torches of the old tarred canvas of the ship, and singing a song of victory. In the meantime the little boys prepared the body for roasting, and afterwards pretended to cut it up with shells, and said: "Who will have a piece?" When the hymn was ended, the chiefs looked round, and saw that the little boys had let the cat out of the bag. The chiefs were much ashamed, and immediately that the fete was at an end, they left and hid themselves in the dark. The case was this – the chiefs had tried to persuade me that they

were no longer cannibals, and had now as much abhorrence of the practice as any European. I sent home the two chiefs next morning.

A few days before the ship was ready to leave New Zealand, an old Maori lady called upon me. She said that her husband had been a great chief, but was dead; and that she was now a poor widow, having a son whom she was unable to bring up properly, and of whom she wished me to take charge. He was a smart little fellow, and his name was Taranui. I looked at him, and asked if he was willing to go; and his reply was, "I wish it very much." There was a tailor on board, and I ordered the man to make a suit of clothes for this Taranui. He became a handy waiter at table, and a great favourite with every one.

Some days after, as I was now idle, I went to Waitangi, the nominal residence of Commodore Waraki, for the purpose of shooting ducks. I took my fowling-piece, and gave two muskets to the boy Taranui, who considering himself as my page, had asked to accompany me. I found neither houses nor cultivation nor any signs of inhabitants, and the country was wholly unencumbered with trees. I left the men at the boat, and walked

PERILOUS JOURNEY INLAND

along the banks of the river for some distance. At last Taranui said, "Come back, this place is dangerous"; and he would go no farther I told him to stop where he was, and that I would go alone as I wanted to see the country. "Oh don't," says he, "the place is not good." But I went on, wandering along the banks of the river for upwards of three miles, when I found myself at the foot of a low conical hill. Suddenly a smoke arose at the other side of the hill. I looked behind me, and was very much surprised to find that I had wandered so far from my men. With some hesitation I mounted the hill, and then I saw before me about twenty or thirty men with fires, but no houses. They did not see me for two or three minutes. One of them at length saw me, and pointed me out to others. The men then all started up, seized their spears, and advanced towards me. I immediately descended the hill and trotted away homewards. On reaching the foot of the hill I looked back, and saw them all running down the hill. I now saw that my life depended on my legs, and I ran as fast as I could. After a little time I felt breathless and looked back, and I was happy to see that they had not gained ground upon me. I therefore determined not to run

so fast for fear of breaking down. After some time I again got breathless, and looking back again I saw that they were following at a considerable distance from one another. The battle of Horatii and the Curiatii occurred to me, and I made up my mind that if any one reached me I would turn round and shoot him with my musket, and then charge the gun when running. I felt assured that they would be exhausted as I was, and I therefore trotted away more gently. I became again very breathless and looked backwards, and this time I saw none of my pursuers – from which I concluded that they had all broken down. Soon after I saw little Taranui standing in the same place where I had left him. I told him to find my men and tell them to come instantly; and the two men with their muskets soon appeared, accompanied by two or three natives. I told them how I had been hunted, and that I was determined to overhaul the hostile party. The fact is that I was ashamed of having been obliged to turn my back upon the natives.

On our way back I passed one of the pursuers, lying on the banks of a creek, chafing his legs; and I afterwards passed three or four more at different distances. I did not even

TRADE WITH THE NATIVES

speak to them. On reaching the encampment, I found a number of men, most of whom retreated to some distance, but when they saw there were only three white men they again advanced towards us. I called to the men to follow me, and, presenting my musket, advanced towards them. They thereupon took to flight, and I followed them a little way, and returned. On again arriving at the encampment, I found only two or three of the original pursuers, but observed that my Maori followers had opened all the native ovens, where they had found a number of large fat dogs roasting, and had put them on their shoulders. I asked them what they intended to do with the dogs; and they answered, "to take them to the New Zealanders who are on board ship." I ordered them to return the dogs to the ovens, and to cover them up again. I then told the two or three natives that my only object in visiting them was to purchase some potatoes for the crew of the ship, and that provided they had any potatoes to sell I would purchase them. They produced several basketfuls, and I told them to bring them down to the boat and I would pay for them. They shouldered the baskets and brought them to the boat, where I paid for them. On

the way down they talked very sociably with my Maoris.

And thus I escaped being barbecued in a native oven.

When the ship was ready the anchors were weighed, and we proceeded on our voyage. Tupe and Tarra accompanied us to the heads. After some time I was alarmed by a sudden cry of terror from Tarra. I asked Tupe what was the matter, he replied, "Tarra is an old fool; Captain Ceronie has dropped his watch overboard. Tarra thinks that the watch is a demon, or 'Etua.'" This Captain Ceronie commanded a ship belonging to Simeon Lord, and in the course of the voyage entered the harbour of Whangaroa, where the natives received him in a very friendly manner. He was seen by the natives accidentally to drop his watch into the harbour, and the night after that he left the harbour without taking leave of any one. This they thought – as they also concluded the watch to be a demon – was a very suspicious circumstance. Soon after the epidemic afflicted these natives, which occasioned a great mortality amongst them, their principal chief being one of the victims. "Tarra," said Tupe, "thinks that Ceronie has maliciously dropped a demon into the water

TONGATABU

for the purpose of killing all the natives in the Bay of Islands in the same way as he did at Whangaroa. I vainly tried to convince Tarra that a watch is no demon, but he is such a superstitious old fool that he will not believe me."

If my philosophical friend Tupe had visited England at the present day, he would not have made such harsh satirical remarks upon his worthy colleague, for he would have seen lots of grave Englishmen sitting round a table, and compelling poor ghosts to obey their incantation, and to perform all manner of monkey tricks.

On the voyage to the Fijis we sighted the island of Tongatabu. We did not anchor, but lay-to near the shore. The ship was soon surrounded with canoes, bringing refreshments consisting of pigs, fowls, bread-fruit, yams, cocoanuts, &c They also brought off considerable quantities of sinnet, made of cocoanut fibre, and a brisk trade commenced. Some time after, two Tongese gentlemen came on board, very clean, fat, and comely; their flowing robes reminded me of Chinese mandarins. They were invited into the cabin. They informed me that they had been sent by the great chief to invite me to come on shore,

and that if I had any fears they would remain on board till my return. I expressed my thanks but said that as the ship was not at anchor, I could not leave her. They further informed me that there had been a civil war in Tonga, but that everything was now settled, and that a new chief governed Tonga.

I could have gained nothing by landing, as the canoes brought ample supplies of everything the island produced. I made them some presents which they accepted, and they courteously left the ship. After having purchased everything which the canoes had brought, we proceeded on our voyage.

Next day we sighted the small island of Anamuka (Namuka), here I determined to anchor. On nearing the shore I got into a boat to search for the best anchorage. A long canoe came to the boat, and in this canoe there was an elderly chief seated in the stern, and a young man beside him. They told me that this elderly person was Kino Kino Loa, the chief of Anamuka, and that the young man was his son Taomaal. Taomaal asked what I was looking for in the boat, and I replied that I was looking for a place to anchor the ship. "Follow me," said the young chief, "and I will show you the place where the great chief

REMINISCENCES OF CAPTAIN COOK

Toote (Captain Cook) anchored." I made a signal to the ship. It was about dinner time, and I wanted them to come into my boat and dine with me. They both did so, but the elder chief first ordered his people to put a large pig into the boat. After they were seated alongside of me, Taomaal said, "I wish you to adopt me, and to become my friend." "With great pleasure," I replied, "but hope that you will adopt me too, and become my friend also"; and so we shook hands, by way of confirming the contract. This conversation was not exactly in these words; but that was the purport of it.

There were plenty of fowls for dinner, and although neither of these two gentlemen had ever used a knife and fork before, they looked to what we did, and managed to imitate us wonderfully well.

As soon as dinner was finished, they all left the table except Kino Kino Loa and myself, who remained in conversation together. When I came upon deck, some time after, I found Taomaal under the hands of the barber, who had already cut off his beautiful beard with scissors, and was besmearing his face with soap-suds. I was sorry for it, for it spoiled his appearance. I told Kino Kino

Loa that I would accompany him ashore to take a look at the island, and would come tomorrow for the purpose of trading with his people for provisions. On my way ashore, Taomaal offered to give me the same house to keep my boats in which his grandfather had given to "Toote." I thanked him, and said that I did not need it, but should like to see it. On landing, he took me to see it.

It was a long, lofty structure, open at both ends; and on entering it I was surprised to see upwards of a hundred people sleeping in hammocks suspended from the roof It was still in good repair, but had many marks of antiquity about it. When I returned to the landing-place, Mrs. Taomaal, the wife of my friend – a handsome young woman, but decidedly fat, came up and accosted me. "Give me an alacoche," said she. I said that I did not know what an "alacoche" was. At length I ascertained that an alacoche was a pair of scissors to cut her hair. I told her that I could bring her a pair to-morrow. I was then surrounded by lots of females, all clamouring for alacoches. Taomaal conductd me to the boat, and I requested him to tell the ladies that I would bring "alacoches" to-morrow.

Next day I came ashore with two boats that

TRADE WITH NATIVES

I might trade with the natives, and of course did not forget to bring alacoches for Mrs. Taomaal and her friends. The two chiefs received us on the beach. The captain had accompanied me ashore, and I told him to attend to the trading while I examined the island. Taomaal attended me everywhere. On my return I found a crowd of natives on the beach, with plenty of produce. Kino Kino Loa was seated at some distance in the middle of his chiefs for the purpose of preserving order.

I asked the captain how he succeeded with the trading? "Very well," he said, "and I am buying cheaper than at Tonga." I saw, however, that he had not purchased much, and had been haggling with the natives about prices. I told him to go away and amuse himself, and that I would become the trader. I advanced towards the traders. One of them offered me something for barter; I gave him what he asked. Another man started up and said, "Buy mine," which I did. Numbers of others started up, and there was a regular chorus of "Buy mine." The purchases were laid in several heaps, and as soon as I had made a purchase I pointed out Where the seller was to lay it. An old woman offered me something

for sale, which I paid for, and pointed out to her where to lay it, and then I turned round to another trader. The beldame did not lay down the article, but came round the other side, and again held it out to me, so I paid for it a second time.

Kino Kino Loa observed the transaction, started to his feet, gave the old woman a hearty slap on the face, and drove her out of the market. The captain had sat down at the side of a screen to avoid the heat. He had two small steel pistols in his pocket. One of the natives put his hand under the screen and picked his pocket of one of them. This was detected by a young native of the Fiji Islands, whom we had brought down from Sydney, and who was with the captain acting as interpreter between him and the chiefs. Through this man the captain stated his complaint to the chief. The chief gravely heard the complaint, took hold of the second pistol which the captain held in his hand, and started to his feet. The mob of people present were silent. There was not a murmur to be heard. Kino Kino Loa held out the pistol, and made a very short address to them. A man arose from the middle of the crowd and gave the name of the thief who had stolen the pistol.

NATIVE HOSPITALITY

A poor trembling wretch arose and held out the stolen pistol. The chief seized a cutlass from the hand of the Fiji native, and rushed toward the culprit. I then interposed, seized the arm of the chief, and gently led him back to his seat. And so the matter ended.

After having leaded the two boats with produce I sent them away to the ship, and told them to return with some more articles of trade. I told Taomaal that I would like to take a walk across the island, provided he would accompany me. He agreed to do so, but he first took me to see his house. It was very clean and the floor was nicely matted. I observed one of his servants chasing a large pig in the yard of the house. The pig took refuge in the house, and the servant threw his club at it, hit it on the head, and killed it. I asked Taomaal if his servant was angry with the pig for defiling his parlour? Taomaal smiled, and said thai the man had killed it for the purpose of cooking it for dinner.

I walked across the island. The road was a passable footpath, but although the soil was rich I did not see much cultivation. On reaching the shore he showed me the island of Little Anamuka (Anamuka Ette), but I had found that I had walked too fast for Taomaal.

The calves of his legs were cramped, and his attendants vied with each other in chafing them.

On my way back I passed a fortified village. The fortification consisted of a double bamboo stockade. The entrance gate was long and crooked, and well supplied with bars. The city was compactly built together, but the streets were narrow and crooked; the inhabitants were all absent at the market-place. There was only one man that remained as a warder. He asked me to take some refreshments, and surprised me by the facility and expedition with which he cooked a bread-fruit, that I might eat it piping hot. I observed that we were close to the lagoon in the centre of the island. It resembled the crater of an old volcano, but I had no time to examine it.

On arrival at the market-place, dinner was ready. I ought to have called it picnic, as we partook of it in the open air. The only animal food produced was a large pig, cooked in a native oven. The cooking was exquisite. I do believe that Soyer himself could not have cooked it so well. After dinner, a bowl of kava was introduced. They first gave the chief a cupful of it. The cup was made of a green leaf. After he had emptied the cup he

DEPARTURE FROM ANAMUKA

tossed it away, and the attendant handed me another. I had seen them preparing the kava, and declined to drink it, but told the chief that I would prefer some cocoanut milk, which they immediately brought to me. They drew my attention to a pineapple. It was too green for use. The chief told me that they had not brought it for the purpose of eating, but to show it to me. He stated that it was a present which "Toote" (Captain Cook) had made them. I was delighted with the gratitude of these poor natives to our great navigator. During dinner, Kino Kino Loa addressed me: "My son, Taomaal wishes to accompany you on your voyage; will you take him?" I heedlessly replied: "With great pleasure; I like him very much."

After dinner I proceeded to the market, and very soon cleared it, and loaded my two boats. There was some trade left. I begged that the chief would accept of it. He smiled, took it, and calling his chiefs round him divided it amongst them. I then parted with him, and returned to the ship.

Next morning, the wind being fair, we loosened the topsails, and began to heave up the anchor. Taomaal came on board to remain (as he stated) another day. He said:

"You had a great deal of trouble yesterday, but my father has made new market regulations, and the market will be better supplied." I replied that I was much obliged to his father, but that I had got sufficient supplies to last the crew for a long time, and that if I took any more they would be spoiled by keeping. He said that yams would keep a long time if we took care not to bruise them. At last he said: "You promised yesterday to take me with you in the ship, and I hope you will do so." I replied: "I have been thinking about it all night, and I now think (although I would very much like to take you), the voyage will be long and dangerous, and you would be exposed to many hardships. Besides, I might not be able to send you to Anamuka." He said: "Do take me; I will risk it." Much more to the same purport passed between us. I pointed out that the ship had drifted a long way from the island, and that he ought to leave it. He replied: "As you will not take me, accept my club as a keepsake." I gave him something in return, and did not forget to give him one of my best razors. This club was lost when the ship sank in the middle of the Atlantic. Thanks to God I did not take him. Some of the natives came on board for the

EN ROUTE TO FIJI

purpose of visiting the Fiji Islands, but they suffered much from sea sickness, and sorely repented what they had done.

CHAPTER VI

CHAPTER VI.

Visit to the Southern Coast of Viti Levu – Friendly Savages – Proposals for a Grand Cannibal Feast – Negotiations for a supply of Sandalwood – Short trip into the interior of Viti Levu – Cotton Plants – Sail again for New Zealand – Arrival at the Bay of Islands – Second attack on the Ship repulsed – Completion of Cargo – Account of the capture of the "Boyd," and massacre of the crew at Whangaroa – Episode of the semi-civilized Taranui and his indignant Mamma – Particulars of visit to the wreck of the "Boyd" – Rescue of the four Survivors – Final departure from New Zealand – Terrible storms during voyage across the Southern Pacific – Terra-del-Fuego – Awful Position of the ship near the Straits of Magellan – Dreadful storms again – Visit from the friendly natives – Preservation Harbour – Mutiny, bad weather, and short provisions – National courtesies – Arrival at Concepcion – Valparaiso – The "Astrea" and its captain – Callao – Lima and its people – Guayaquil – Voyage to Cadiz – Succession of bad weather – Ship founders in the Atlantic, near the Azores.

On the next day I went with two boats to visit Viti Levu; and on reaching the lee side of the island I found that a coral reef prevented my access to the land. We ran along the reef until we saw some natives employed in gather-

ing something on the dry reef. It being low water we made signs to them to come to speak to us; which they did. We asked them whether there was any passage in the reef by which we could approach the land. They replied that there was a passage further on. I held up something which I would give them if they would come into the boat and show us the passage. One of them immediately dived into the surf and appeared in the smooth water near the boat, and came on board. He was a fine mild-looking young man. He sat down beside me, and became as sociable and chatty as if we had been old friends. By-and-by I saw a gap in the high land. I asked him whether there was not a river at that place? He said "Yes"; that there was a large river and that a large canoe from Tonga had arrived there two or three days before, and that the canoe was manned by about fifty men. They said these men were "fine fat fellows, and would be good eating"; and further that, as we had "plenty of muskets, if we would assist them to kill them we could eat them together." He said also that we could attack them at night when they were asleep. I replied that the Kai Papalagi (white men) only carried muskets to defend themselves, and not to kill

VISIT TO VITI LEVU

people, and that the white men did not eat man's flesh. He looked at me with surprise, and said, "Is it true what you say? If it is true, the Kai Papalagi must be great fools, for man's flesh is much better than pork."

At length my man-eating friend conducted the boat through a fine passage in a fine reef-locked harbour, and we landed at a small village. The chief of the village received us in a quiet civil manner. I told him our errand, and asked him if his country produced sandalwood. He replied there was plenty of sandalwood in the mountains. I asked him if he would procure it for us, if we brought the ship into his harbour, and told him we would pay for it in tombooa and iron tools. He replied that he would be glad to do so. And, by way of propitiating him, I made him a present of a tombooa, which he immediately hung at his neck.

Before taking leave of him I requested him to order his people to commence procuring the sandalwood, and that I would return in a few days with the ship. He promised to do so. And in two or three days after the ship arrived in safety at the newly discovered harbour. 1 On

landing I found that they had only procured about a ton of good sandalwood, for which I paid a higher price than I used to give at Mbau as an encouragement to the natives – for which I was blamed by the captain. It came in very slowly afterwards, which I attributed to the distance the natives had to bring it. I therefore resolved to visit the mountains, in order to ascertain whether it abounded there; and I requested the chief to give me a guide. This he did, and with the guide there was a band of armed men. I found the path led over a long flat of barren worthless land, with a few bushes on it here and there. Amongst these bushes I found some cotton plants, and, along with others, some plants of yellow nankeen cotton, the ripe pods of which I pocketed. After a time my people began to complain of fatigue. One of them said to the others, whilst he looked at me, "Although Mr. Berry always fatigues himself as much as any of us, I have never heard him complain of being tired." I said nothing, but went on. Soon after we met an old native armed with a club. When he reached us he said something to the guide, but I observed he trembled very much, never having perhaps seen any white men before. Soon afterwards the guide came up

NEW ZEALAND REVISITED

to me and said, "Turang, come back; I am afraid to go any further." I observed that although we had walked perhaps seven or eight miles, we were not half way to the mountains. I returned to the ship. I now saw that the country was so desolate, and so thinly peopled, that it would be impossible for them to bring me sandalwood in quantity, even if it abounded in the mountains; and I resolved to leave these islands, to return to New Zealand, and to fill up the ship with spars for the Cape of Good Hope.

On reaching the North Cape of New Zealand, I at first intended to enter the harbour of Whangaroa, from the favourable account which Ceronie had given me of that port. As soon as the New Zealanders on board saw my intention, they requested me not to go there, as they had heard that the natives intended to attack the first ship which came into the harbour, on account of the injury which Ceronie had done them by dropping his atua (the watch) into the harbour, which had occasioned the death of so many of the natives.

Although I had heard the same story at the Bay of Islands, I doubted it, and thought that it might have originated from native jealousy.

I, therefore, still proceeded towards Whangaroa, on which they all began to cry bitterly. Fortunately, the winds became adverse for entering that harbour. After struggling with these winds for a day or two – which were fair for the Bay of Islands – I changed my course and entered that bay.

On again anchoring at Kororarika my old friends were delighted to see me; and Tupe and Tarra promised to give me every assistance in their power for loading the ship with spars. Tupe piloted the ship some miles further to a more convenient place for loading her.

In procuring the spars everything succeeded in a way equal to my most sanguine wishes. The chiefs, assisted by their people, cut down the spars, and barked and squared the larger ones for the sake of stowage, all hands assisting to launch them into the water. They were always regularly paid for their work every Saturday night.

One day when I was on board the ship, the captain of a whaler (accompanied by Tippahee, whom I had not seen since the time when he was my prisoner) came on board. He told me that his object was to get some spars for his ship from Tupe. I asked them into the cabin, and gave them some refreshment. On

ATTACKED BY NATIVES

leaving, Tippahee asked me to give him a bottle of porter to drink in the bush, and I did so. I mention this on account of what happened afterwards. I may add that Tippahee could see the defenceless state of the ship at this time, for nearly all of the men were employed in the boats or in the bush.

Some time – perhaps a fortnight – after the above event, I came upon deck early in the morning, for the purpose of making arrangements for visiting the working party in the bush. The sky looked very dark and threatening, and the black clouds seemed to denote a thunderstorm. I therefore deferred my visit until the next day. The squall, or thunderstorm, took place, and the sky cleared up. The people on board consisted of myself, the chief mate (an elderly man), my body-servant (an Indian Portuguese), my little page Taranui, the ship's cook, two blacksmiths (one of whom was a Chinaman), a carpenter (also a Chinaman), and I think two other men.

In the afternoon I observed a large war canoe full of men approaching the ship. I examined and observed that the men were all armed. Directions were at once given that every man on board should be armed with loaded muskets, and I took charge of the big

guns. One of them was already loaded with ball, and I put into her a bag of shingles. 2 The ship was anchored in a narrow place. On the one side the bank consisted of a steep precipice, and on the other side were some low sandy beaches. The canoe came along the steep bank, and when it came opposite the ship it stopped there for some time. Then the canoe began to approach the ship, and one of the natives on board rose up and was seen giving directions to his men how to board. I succeeded in covering the canoe with the cannon, and the Chinese blacksmith brought me a piece of red hot iron from the forge to fire it with. At this moment the tide must have turned, for the ship swung round and I lost my aim. I could now see that the man who was standing up, directing the men where to board, was my old acquaintance Metatau, whom I had brought from Sydney, and who afterwards had been one of the leaders of the attack upon me at Kororarika. A random musket-shot was now fired. Metatau immediately called out that he was Mata Mata (hit or wounded), and sat down. The canoe took flight, and all the men

FIRST NEWS OF THE "BOYD"

landed on the beach, on the opposite side, and ran into the bush. I have no recollection what I did with the canoe, but I am sure I did not allow it to be destroyed.

Some weeks after this affair, when I came on deck one morning I found Tarra in earnest conversation with some strangers, whom I had never seen before. He came to me and said, "If you want anything which these people have brought, buy it immediately and send them away. I have something to tell you." I took this hint, and sent them away.

Tarra then told me that the natives of Whangaroa had taken a large ship – that they had killed and eaten all the crew, and possessed themselves of all the muskets and gunpowder in the ship – and that they were preparing to come and attack me also. "You," said Tarra, "must cease getting any more timber, and withdraw your people from the bush. Get them all on board, and then leave New Zealand immediately. Until you are able to go, I and Tupe and our men will stay on board to protect the ship."

I expressed my surprise at what Tarra told me, but hoped it might be a false report.

A day or two after I went to the bush, and asked Tupe if he had heard of such a report.

Tupe said that he had heard the report, but that he did not believe it, and that it went in at one ear and out at the other. I, therefore, continued getting spars until the ship was loaded. In the meantime fresh reports were brought in by the other natives every day, and many were so circumstantial that it appeared impossible for these natives to have invented them. I therefore determined to go to Whangaroa as soon as the ship should be loaded.

Some time before I heard the above report my little page Taranui came to me and said that he wished that I would give him my permission to leave the ship for a week that he might pay a visit to his mother, and that I need not be afraid that he would run away for he liked the ship very much. I told him by all means to go and see his mother. He went, and returned at the end of the week. Some time after his return, while walking the poop, I saw him in earnest conversation with his mother. The purport of their conversation was as follows: His mother entreated him to leave the ship, and go on shore and reside with his own relations. He replied: "I like the ship very much, and prefer it to living ashore." His mother

VISIT TO WHANGAROA

replied that it would be more natural for him to live amongst his own relations than amongst strangers. He replied: "I prefer living among the pakeha (white men) to living among the Maoris. The Maoris have so many loutrou about them (pediculi)." His mother replied: "Shame, shame upon you, Taranui, to talk in that way about your own relations." The old woman now opened her clothing, showed him her breasts, and told him that he seemed to have forgotten that she had suckled him. I left the poop and heard no more; making up my mind to leave the lad to take his own course. For some time he continued to wait at table as usual, but I readily perceived that he was now very unsettled, and some time after he left the ship without saying good-bye to any one.

I made inquiry about him long afterwards, and was informed that he went to sea in another ship, and died in the course of the voyage.

As already stated, I resolved to visit Whangaroa after the ship was ready for sea. On the first attempt a gale of wind compelled me to turn back after nearly reaching the harbour; but as the weather moderated. I made a second attempt, and reached the port

in safety. On this occasion I was accompanied by my friend Metanangha. On arrival I found a large ship lying in shallow water, burnt to the water's edge – and the bones of the crew lying over the beach. By the assistance of Metanangha, 1 succeeded in recovering the few survivors, consisting of a Mrs. Moseley, her female infant, the youngest daughter of Mr. Commissary Broughton (who is still alive and who married Mr. Throsby, of Throsby Park), and a young man named Davidson. Besides saving these persons, I also, strange to say, recovered the duplicates of the bills and other documents which I had left with Mr. Lord for transmission to England; and these proved to be the only documents which reached their destination, all my other papers and documents being lost in my subsequent shipwreck. Thus my enterprise was not a mere quixotic adventure to save distressed damsels from the hands of giants and ogres, but was attended with very beneficial consequences to myself. They also brought me one of the ship's boats, which I handed to Tarra, with a certificate to show how it came into his possession. I also gave Tarra a letter to show to any ship which might arrive, giving an account of the capture of the

DEPARTURE FROM NEW ZEALAND

"Boyd" – for that was the name of the vessel – and warning them not to admit too many natives on board.

I recollect one night, when Metanangha was stopping on board, he addressed me to this effect, "You are too venturesome. You walk about New Zealand alone and unarmed, in the way you might do in Europe, and I have often heard the natives say how easy it would be on such occasions to kill you." I certainly was too reckless from over confidence, and felt the truth of his remark.

After the ship was ready we took a final departure from New Zealand, and sailed therefrom (as I think) on the 26th of January, 1810. From what I had heard from some ships I was in great hopes that my cargo of spars would find a good market at the Cape of Good Hope, for they were then much wanted there for the British Navy. But fate had not ordained that they should ever reach the Cape.

The early part of the voyage was favourable, but when we were near Cape Horn, we encountered a fearful storm, which blew our sails to pieces. Some time after a heavy sea struck the stern of the ship, and knocked away the rudder, after which we lay like a hulk

upon the water at the mercy of the winds and waves. For a fortnight we never saw the sun, and did not know where we had drifted to. We, however, contrived to construct a makeshift rudder, and fastened it with ropes. One afternoon the weather moderated, and we saw that the colour of the water changed – an indication that we were nearing land. About sunset the sky cleared up for a few minutes, and we saw the tops of the mountains of Terra del Fuego, but could not see the shore. About this time we found that the pumps were choked, and that we could not pump the ship. With much difficulty we got the pumps on deck, where we cleaned them and so reshipped them; but it was nearly midnight before we could free the ship from water. At this time we could not see the land. I was so exhausted that I went into my cabin, and threw myself upon my bed to rest myself, when I immediately fell into a deep sleep.

I awoke at the first dawn of the morning, with a kind of deadly pressure on my chest, and could not, at the moment, realize my position. I found, however, that the ship was steady and the water calm. I then looked out of my cabin window and saw some

TERRA DEL FUEGO

birds on a small rock at some distance from the ship. I started to my feet and went on deck, when I found that the ship had drifted during the night, into a bay on the coast of Terra del Fuego, and that we were in the midst of some islands.

The sky was cloudy, but the wind was light; and at midday I was able to take an observation of the sun, when I found that we were about forty miles to the south of the western entrance of the Straits of Magellan. The land between us and these straits is called Desolation Island by Cook. On sounding we found no bottom, but continued advancing all day in hopes of finding some place to anchor the ship. Evening was approaching and we could neither find shelter nor anchorage; at length we found bottom at thirty fathoms; but it was merely a ridge of rock, and after a few casts of the lead we could find no bottom. Almost in a state of despair I went into my cabin to compose myself. There was a book lying on the table, I do not recollect what book it was – perhaps "Johnson's Lives of the Poets." I opened it mechanically, and began to read it It was to this effect; that both Charles I. and his favourite Strafford were addicted to the Sortes

Virgilianae, and upon one occasion that both of them tried them together, and both of them obtained a true augury – that both of them would be beheaded. But the book said that some other people, instead of consulting Virgil, used to consult the Bible. I said to myself, "I shall consult Virgil, although I have no faith in such auguries" – for drowning men clutch at straws. On opening my book-chest, I could not find Virgil, but I readily found a Bible, and therefore consulted it. The first part of the paragraph I considered too good for me, but it ended by saying: "Whatever thy hand findeth to do, do it with all thy might, for there is neither work nor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom, in the grave whither thou goest." This I interpreted to denote that my safety must depend upon my own exertions, and that I ought to exert myself and not to despair. I would not have mentioned this, if it had not been for the circumstance that it afterwards procured me the honour of a visit from the Catholic Bishop of Guayaquil.

I returned to the deck quite composed, and soon after, at nightfall, we dropped our anchor in thirty fathoms, close to a barren rocky island. The bottom was rocky, but we

AWFUL POSITION OF THE SHIP

hoped to be able to weigh it in the morning.

Next day it blew so strong that it was impossible to weigh anchor. A boat was, however, dispatched with an officer to endeavour to discover some sheltered nook where we might anchor the vessel.

The stormy weather continued for several days, rendering it impossible, or dangerous, to attempt to weigh the anchor. After some days the mate returned and informed us that he could find no safe anchorage, and had been unable to return because the weather was so stormy. He had only time to take some refreshment when a sailor came and said, "The ship is adrift." In those days ships had only hempen cables, and the rocks had cut the cables. The mate asked me what he should do with the ship. I replied, "Keep her afloat."

Here was the dismantled ship without rudder or anchors, in the midst of an unknown archipelago of islands in Terra del Fuego, one of the most stormy and dreary countries in the world.

For some days we drifted about at the mercy of the tides and currents; but fortunately the weather proved moderate, and at length we were able to fasten the ship to the

rocks, although in a rather exposed situation. Hitherto we had seen no signs of natives, but one morning we observed some in several canoes, made of bark. The head man rose in one of the canoes, held up something white, and approached the ship, calling out, "Pickeray! Pickeray!" The canoes were ballasted with some earth on which they had a fire. The poor little shivering natives were clothed with sealskins, fastened to their bodies in the most artless and simple manner. They had no food in their canoes, but some large mussels which were plentiful on the rocks. They struck fire with large lumps of copper pyrites, and when asked where they got it, they pointed to the mountains. I had no chemical tests, but I roasted some of it and afterwards put it in vinegar, which on being applied to the blade of a knife covered it with copper.

The mussels alluded to were very large, but the outsides of the shells were generally corroded, and were full of ill-coloured and ill-shaped pearls.

These natives, after exchanging some pieces of sealskin and other trifles with the sailors, took their leave. The old native women were the dealers, and they had plenty of tongue.

PRESERVATION HARBOUR

By-and-bye, I discovered a small, snug, sheltered nook, where there was deep water, close to a perpendicular rock; there being also plenty of trees and a thick bush for about two hundred yards above the high-water mark. The vessel was immediately removed to this shelter; and fortunate it was that we did so remove her, for the same night a fearful gale of wind took place, but we were so perfectly secure that we did not feel a breath of it.

One day I went alone to the top of the mountain. Above the narrow border of trees there was nothing but rock; not a particle of soil, and the rocks everywhere smoothed and polished with the rains. There was neither bird nor insect, nor any sign of animal life. And as far as the eye could reach, the same picture of desolation presented itself.

In our sheltered nook we improved our make-shift rudder, and repaired our sails, and other damages, as far as our means permitted.

I had heard, from some ship in New Zealand, that there had been a revolution in Spain, and that England and Spain were now friends; but this was doubtful, as I had seen no newspaper. I had, however, read Lord Byron's narrative, who describes the kind reception which the Chilians had given to him

and Captain Cheap after the wreck of the "Wager" – one of Lord Anson's fleet – and I therefore determined, if possible, to take refuge on the coast of Chile.

Fortunately, I had in my possession Frezian's "Voyage to the West Coast of South America" translated by Dr. Halley. He was a French officer of engineers, who had been sent clandestinely by the French Government to survey the Coast of Chile and Peru during the war of succession, and his book contains plans of the principal ports.

When leaving "Preservation Harbour," or rather Nook, we had another visit from the same tribe of Fuegians who had formerly visited us. On getting out of our nook the ship got entangled in a float of the ficus giganteus, and some of the stems got between the rudder and the stern post, and prevented the motion of the ship. We sent a boat to cut them away, and the poor natives came in their canoes to assist us. They had no knives to cut the stems, but they began to bite them across with their teeth.

With some difficulty we got safely out of the bay, and proceeded on our voyage to the northward. It must have been about the time of the autumnal equinox, and we experi-

[Inserted unpaginated illustration]

CROW'S NEST HOUSE

A SHORT-LIVED MUTINY

enced a succession of storms; the winds being generally from the north-east, with hazy weather. This rendered our voyage very tedious, and the storms repeatedly displaced our make-shift rudder. From such a protracted voyage our provisions began to run short, and I wished to reduce the rations; but all hands opposed it so much that I was obliged to succumb.

Some time after, most of the crew came anD insisted that the ship should be run ashore on the coast of Patagonia, and on my refusal they refused to work any longer, and went below. The officers and a few of the men continued to work as usual, and the mutineers, seeing this, returned to their duty next day.

Some days after this we experienced a heavy gale from the north which displaced our make-shift rudder. At this time the weather was very hazy. Suddenly the wind shifted to the south and cleared away the haze, when we saw a ship (perhaps not more than a quarter of a mile ahead of us) still struggling with the northerly wind. We hoisted the British flag, union down, and fired a gun. She hoisted the Yankee flag, but immediately the southerly wind reached her, she braced round her yards and bore away with-

out speaking to us. On reaching the port of Valparaiso, some days after, she told the people that they would soon hear of the wreck of an English vessel on the coast, as they had seen one in great distress.

On arriving near Concepcion, I sent a boat ashore to Talcahuano, which brought little provisions; and I went myself to Zome, where I purchased such provisions as the village could supply, and some days after we reached the harbour of Valparaiso.

Here we found the Spanish frigate "Astrea," commanded by Don Joaquin Toledo, a lieutenant in the Spanish navy, which had arrived there from Lima a day or two before. Toledo and his first lieutenant, Eugenio Cortez, immediately came on board, and as we had neither anchor nor cables they lent us what we wanted until we could be provided for from the shore. There was no cable in the place, but they made one for us. If it had not been for the "Astrea," I do not know what we could have done, for Valparaiso is an open roadstead, and, as there was no quay, it was necessary to land on the beach.

Don Joaquin gave us every assistance in his power, and used all his influence with the Government in our behalf. Our rudder was

ARRIVAL AT VALPARAISO

provided with new brass pintles. We were, however, directed by the Government to proceed to Lima, under convoy of the "Astrea," as our necessary repairs were effected. And Eugenio Cortez promised to introduce me to Mr. Ferrer, a merchant in Lima, who became my agent.

A day or two after my arrival the Yankee captain addressed me. I asked him why he would not stop and speak to us when we hoisted a signal of distress? "I guess," he said, "that I had been a long time from home, and did not know whether there might not have been war between England and America, in which case, if you had been a man-of-war, you might have taken me." I replied, "You told the Spaniards that we were in such distress that you expected we would be wrecked on the coast. No matter, we have arrived safe without your assistance. But what has just been my case may be your case hereafter, and you may be treated in the way, as a just punishment for your inhumanity." He looked abashed, pulled out his snuff-box, and offered me a pinch, but I declared that I never snuffed.

The Governor of Valparaiso examined me on oath, and the captain and some of the men

respecting the voyage and destination of our ship. The common people could hardly understand how we could reach the west coast of South America without coming round Cape Horn, and entertained suspicions that we might be a smuggler in disguise. Therefore they examined all our trunks and boxes. They were very much surprised to find that I had such a large collection of books.

When I first arrived at New South Wales the colony was on the eve of a revolution from the tyranny of Bligh, and the same was the case in Chile; it did not, however, take place until some time after we left for Lima. But the President of Chile sent to Lima, in the "Astrea," some of the heads of the impending revolution – the President of Chile being subordinate to the Viceroy of Peru. Don Joaquin Toledo received orders from the President of Chile to convey us safely to Lima; but as he knew there was no chance of our attempting to escape, although we weighed anchor and made sail at the same time, the next morning he was not in sight, and he reached Lima several days before us.

On our way to Lima we spoke an English whaling vessel on the coast; and I purchased a bale of slops for my people. A Mr. Moore,

DIFFICULTIES AT LIMA

the chief mate, came on board of the "City of Edinburgh," and delivered them. He, long after, commanded a vessel called the "Woodlark," in the employment of Jones and Walker. He was the father of Mr. Henry Moore, the agent for the P. and O. Steam Company.

Mr. Cortez on his arrival at Lima immediately called on his friend Don Joaquin Maria de Ferrer, who, on our arrival at Callao, came on board next day and agreed to act as my agent and protector.

A petition was sent to the Viceroy, giving a detail of the voyage, and requesting him to allow the cargo to be discharged and sold to enable me to repair the ship. This the Viceroy very generously granted; but, unfortunately, there was very little demand for spars in Lima, and they proved unsaleable. But Mr. Ferrer liberally supplied me with money to enable me to have the ship repaired.

A second petition was then sent to the Viceroy requesting him to allow the ship to take a cargo from Lima to Cadiz, which Mr. Ferrer agreed to furnish. To this also the Viceroy agreed. But, unfortunately, a person of the name of Verduga (who had built a large ship) opposed it, as it would be contrary

not only to Spanish law, but contrary to his interest. This gentleman was a member of the municipality of Lima, and all the members joined him in opposing me. Besides this, there was a revolution in Chile, and a rebellion in Upper Peru, and the Viceroy did not like to oppose the municipality. But after many months he acceded to my wishes, during which time the expenses of the vessel were absolutely "eating her up." On arriving at Callao, Mrs. Moseley and her child left the ship. As she was a Roman Catholic, some charitable person received her into his house; but she died there some months after. A few days subsequent to my arrival at Callao, as I saw that Betsy Broughton was ill cared for, I asked Mr. Ferrer whether he would get some decent person to take care of her. He said that he would look out. Two or three days after he came down in his calesa and requested me to go to Lima with him, and the little girl, as he had got a proper person to take care of her. He took me to a highly respectable house and introduced me to a charming Spanish lady, who said that she would be most happy to take charge of her. On leaving the house I told Mr. Ferrer that my object in speaking to him was that he

BUSINESS IN CALLAO

might get some decent person to take charge of the child for hire. He replied, "Never mind." He said the ladies in Lima were generally rather bad, but that the lady to whom he had introduced me was an exception; that she was the wife of Don Gaspar Rico, the manager of a large Madrid company, and having no children of her own was delighted with the idea of taking care of the little girl. "But," said he, "you must visit her every day when you go to Lima, as otherwise the little girl will forget you altogether." After a little time, Mr. and Mrs. Rico became so fond of the little girl that Mr. Rico made me many overtures to leave the child with them. But I considered it my duty, if possible, to restore her to her father. The girl herself would have been much pleased to have been left with her handsome mamma; and I was told by a lady in Sydney that she wished I had left her in Lima, and that for that reason she never once paid me a visit when she came to Sydney. It would have been a sad thing if I had left her in Lima, for Don Gaspar Rico died of hunger in the castle of Callao. Rico belonged to the Loyalist party, which at length took refuge in the castle, where they were regularly starved out. A rat was there

sold for an ounce of gold! I do not know, however, whether Mrs. Rico was along with him.

Some time after my arrival at Callao, a vessel called the "Archduke Charles" arrived with a licensed cargo for Lima. On her departure I sent to the owner of the ship "Boyd" the log book of that illfated vessel, and also a short account of her capture by the natives of New Zealand, and how I rescued the survivors. Constable (the Edinburgh publisher and bookseller), and Brown, the owner of the "Boyd," were married to two sisters; and Brown gave my letter to Constable, who published it in his magazine. I also sent my agent in London the "seconds" of the bills which I received from Simeon Lord, and which I had recovered from the Maoris; and I likewise sent the duplicates of the paper respecting my claim on the Government on account of my Norfolk Island voyage, which reached their destination in safety, but years after they ought to have reached London.

Having at last received permission to take a cargo to Cadiz, consisting of copper and tin for ballast, Peruvian bark, and some cacao,

THE SHIP ABANDONED

the ship was dispatched to Guayaquil to complete her cargo by filling up with cacao.

Mr. Toledo and Mr. Cortez went with me as passengers to Cadiz. Having completed our cargo at Guayaquil we made sail for Cadiz.

In working out of the bay of Guayaquil the vessel got ashore on the banks of Payana, and I was obliged to return to Guayaquil to discharge this cargo and repair the damage, when it was necessary to heave the vessel down.

We made sail a second time, and reached Rio Janeiro in safety. After leaving Rio we experienced a succession of storms, in consequence of which the ship again began to leak; and when we were near the Azores Islands she became waterlogged, and began to leak by the head, and we were obliged to hoist out the long boat and abandon her.

As the weather was so stormy, and the ship rolled so much, the long boat was so much damaged by striking against the ship's side that it became necessary to lighten her by throwing out everything she contained, except a little biscuit and water. In this confusion my box of papers was thrown overboard also, so that I did not save a slip of

paper or any document of my long and disastrous voyage – among other things the "thirds" of Lord's bills, and duplicates of the papers respecting the claim on the Government for the Norfolk Island freight.

1 Probably the Whippy Harbour of the present day.

2 Pebbles.

Conditions of Use

By their use of these ebooks, texts and images, users agree to follow these conditions of use:

These ebooks, texts and images may not be used for any commercial purpose without permission from the University of Auckland Library.

These ebooks, texts and images may not be re-published in print or electronic form without permission from the University of Auckland Library. However, educators are welcome to print out items and hand them to their students.

Users are not permitted to download our ebooks, texts, and images in order to mount them on their own servers for public use or for use by a set of subscribers. Individuals and institutions can, of course, make a link to the copies at ENZB, subject to our conditions of use. It is not in our interest or that of our users to have uncontrolled subsets of our holdings available elsewhere on the Internet. We make corrections, add tags, add images, etc. on a continual basis, and we want the most current text to be the only one generally available to all Internet users.

These texts can potentially be used as the basis for additional TEI tagging or for some other etext or ebook project, but we ask that you let us know before you start, so that we can coordinate work on that text and make sure that we are not working on it simultaneously. We would like a copy of the improved text for our collections.

Request for permission form