"Although Shungie has been two years among Europeans, I still consider him to be one of the most ferocious cannibals in his native country. He protects the missionaries who live on his ground entirely for the sake of what he can get from them.

"I now returned to my own party. Early the next morning the enemy retreated to a distance of about two miles from the river; upon observing which our party immediately threw off their mats, and got under arms. The two parties had altogether about two thousand muskets among them, chiefly purchased from the English and American South Sea ships which touch at the island. We now crossed the river; and, having arrived on the opposite side, I took my station on a rising ground, about a quarter of a mile distant from where our party halted, so that I had a full view of the engagement.

"I was not myself required to fight, but I loaded my double-barrelled gun, and, thus armed, remained at my post, my wife and the two slave girls having seated themselves at my feet.

"The commander-in-chief of each party now stepped forward a few yards, and, placing himself in front of his troops, commenced the war-song. When this was ended both parties danced a war-dance, singing at the same time as loud as they could, and brandishing their weapons in the air.

"Having finished their dance, each party formed into a line two-deep, the women and boys stationing themselves about ten yards to the rear.

"The two bodies then advanced to within about a hundred yards of each other, when they fired off their muskets. Few of them put the musket to the shoulder while firing it, but merely held it at the charge. They only fired once; and then, throwing their muskets behind them, where they were picked up by the women and boys, drew their merys and tomahawks out of their belts, when, the war-song being screamed by the whole of them together in a manner most dismal to be heard, the two parties rushed into close combat.

"They now took hold of the hair of each other's heads with their left hands, using the right to cut off the head. Meantime the women and boys followed close behind them, uttering the most shocking cries I ever heard. These last received the heads of the slain from those engaged in the battle as soon as they were cut off, after which the men went in among the enemy for the dead bodies; but many of them received bodies that did not belong to the heads they had cut off.

"The engagement had not lasted many minutes, when the enemy began to retreat, and were pursued by our party through the woods. Some of them, in their flight, crossed the hill on which I stood; and one threw a short jagged spear at me as he passed, which stuck in the inside of my left thigh. It was afterwards cut out by two women with an oyster-shell. The operation left a wound as large as a common-sized tea-cup; and after it had been performed I was carried across the river on a woman's back to my hut, where my wife applied some green herbs to the wound, which immediately stopped the bleeding, and also made the pain much less severe.

"In a short time our party returned victorious, bringing along with them many prisoners. Persons taken in battle, whether chiefs or not, become slaves to those who take them. One of our chiefs had been shot by Shungie, and the body was brought back, and laid upon some mats before the huts. Twenty heads, also, were placed upon long spears, which were stuck up around our huts; and nearly twice as many bodies were put to the fires, to be cooked in the accustomed way.

"Our party continued dancing and singing all night; and the next morning they had a grand feast on the dead bodies and fern-roots, in honour of the victory they had gained. The name of the chief whose body lay in front of our huts was Ewanna. He was one of those who were at the taking of our vessel. His body was now cut into several pieces, which, being packed into baskets, covered with black mats, were put into one of the canoes, to be taken along with us down the river. There were, besides Ewanna, five other chiefs killed on our side, whose names were Nainy, Ewarree, Tometooi, Ewarrehum, and Erow.[CC] On the other side, three chiefs were killed, namely, Charly, Shungie's eldest son, and two sons of Mootyi,[CD] a great chief of Sukyanna. Their heads were brought home by our people as trophies of war, and cured in the usual manner.

"We now left Kipara in a number of canoes, and proceeded down the river to a place called Shaurakke,[CE] where the mother of one of the chiefs who was killed resided.

"When we arrived in sight of this place, the canoes all closed together, and joined in singing a funeral song.

"By this time, several of the hills before us were crowded with women and children, who, having their faces painted with ochre, and their heads adorned with white feathers, were waving their mats, and calling out to us 'ara mi, ara mi,' the usual welcome home.

"When the funeral song was ended, we disembarked from our canoes, which we hauled up from the river, and our party then performed a dance, entirely naked; after which they were met by another party of warriors, from behind the hill, with whom they engaged in a sham fight, which lasted about twenty minutes. Both parties then seated themselves around the house belonging to the chief of the village, in front of which the baskets containing the dead body were at the same time placed. They were then all opened, and the head, being taken out and decorated with feathers, was placed on the top of one of the baskets; while the rest of the heads that had been taken at the battle were stuck on long spears, in various parts of the village. Meanwhile, the mother of the slain chief stood on the roof of the house, dressed in a feathered cloak and turban, continually turning herself round, wringing her hands, and crying for the loss of her son.

"The dead body having been in a few days buried with the usual ceremonies, we all prepared to return to our own village. Shaurakke is one of the most delightful spots in New Zealand, and has more cultivated land about it than I saw anywhere else. While I was here, I saw a slave-woman eat part of her own child, which had been killed by the chief, her master. I have known several instances of New Zealand women eating their children as soon as they were born."

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote BY: Kaipara.]

[Footnote BZ: Raumati.]

[Footnote CA: Another rendition of Hokianga.]

[Footnote CB: Mr. Craik adds a note stating that the place which Rutherford here calls Wangalore is Wangaroa. (The proper spelling is Whangaroa.) The ship, he says, was the "Mercury," of London, South Sea whaler, which put in at Wangaroa on March 5th, 1825, and was plundered of the greater part of her cargo by the natives. She was also so much disabled by the attack made upon her that, after a vain attempt to carry her round to the Bay of Islands, it was found necessary to abandon her, when she drove to sea, and asserted that no cause of offence whatever was given to the natives by the captain or crew of the "Mercury," while the conduct of the former was in all respects treacherous, unfeeling, and provoking.]

[Footnote CC: All the names are spelt wrongly.]

[Footnote CD: Probably Matui or Matohi.]

[Footnote CE: Evidently Hauraki, which, however, is on the east coast, while Knipara is on the west.]



CHAPTER XII.

This is, we believe, the most complete account, and, at the same time, the one most to be depended on, which has yet been given to the public, of a New Zealand battle. None of the other persons who have described to us the manners of these savages have seen them engaged with each other, except in a sham fight; although Nicholas, on one occasion, was very near being afforded an opportunity of witnessing a real combat. That gentleman and Marsden, however, have given us some very interesting details respecting the preliminaries to an actual engagement. They describe the debates which generally take place in the war-council of a tribe or district previous to any declaration of hostilities; and those conferences between the two opposing parties in which, even after they have met on the intended field of action, the matter of dispute is often made the subject of a war of argument and eloquence, and sometimes, it would seem, is even settled without any resort to more destructive weapons.

When Marsden visited the neighbourhood of the Shukehanga, in 1819, he found a quarrel just about to commence between two of the principal chiefs, whose lands lay contiguous, and who were also, it appeared, nearly related, in consequence of the pigs of the one having got into the sweet potato grounds of the other, who had retaliated by shooting several of them. The chief whose pigs had committed the trespass, and whom Marsden was now visiting, was an old man, apparently eighty years of age, named Warremaddoo,[CF] who had now resigned the supreme authority to his son Matanghee;[CG] yet this affair rekindled all the ancient enthusiasm of the venerable warrior. The other chief was called Moodewhy.[CH] The morning debate, at which several chiefs spoke with great force and dignity, had been suddenly interrupted; but it was resumed in the evening, when Marsden was again present.

On this occasion, old Warremaddoo threw off his mat, took his spear, and began to address his tribe and the chiefs. He made strong appeals to them against the injustice and ingratitude of Moodeewhy's conduct towards them, recited many injuries which he and his tribe had suffered from Moodeewhy for a long period, mentioned instances of his bad conduct at the time that his father's bones were removed from the Ahoodu Pa to their family vault, stated acts of kindness which he had shown to Moodeewhy at different times, and said that he had twice saved his tribe from total ruin. In the present instance, Moodeewhy had killed three of his hogs. Every time he mentioned his loss, the recollection seemed to nerve afresh his aged sinews: he shook his hoary beard, stamped with indignant rage, and poised his quivering spear.

He exhorted his tribe to be bold and courageous; and declared that he would head them in the morning against the enemy, and, rather than he would submit, he would be killed and eaten. All that they wanted was firmness and courage; he knew well the enemies they had to meet, their hearts did not lie deep; and, if they were resolutely opposed, they would yield.

His oration continued nearly an hour, and all listened to him with great attention.

This dispute, however, partly through Marsden's intercession, who offered to give each of the indignant leaders an adze if they would make peace, was at last amicably adjusted; and the two, as the natives expressed it, "were made both alike inside."

But Marsden was a good deal surprised on observing old Warremaddoo, immediately after he had rubbed noses with Moodeewhy in token of reconcilement, begin, with his slaves, to burn and destroy the fence of the enclosure in which they were assembled, belonging to Moodeewhy, who, however, took no notice of the destruction of his property thus going on before his face. Upon inquiry, he was told that this was done in satisfaction for a fence of the old man's which Moodeewhy had destroyed in the first instance, and the breaking down of which had, in fact, given rise to the trespass.

A New Zealander would hold himself to be guilty of a breach of the first principles of honour if he ever made up a quarrel without having exacted full compensation for what he might conceive to be his wrongs.

The battle which Nicholas expected to witness was to be fought between the tribe of an old chief named Henou,[CI] and that of another, named Wiveah,[CJ] who had seduced his wife. The two parties met in adjoining enclosures, and Nicholas took his station on the roof of a neighbouring hut to observe their proceedings. The conference was commenced by an old warrior on Henou's side, who, rising, amid the universal silence of both camps, addressed himself to Wiveah and his followers.

Nicholas describes the venerable orator as walking, or rather running, up and down a paling, which formed one side of the enclosure in which he was, uttering his words in a tone of violent resentment, and occasionally shaking his head and brandishing his spear. He was answered in a mild and conciliating manner by two of Wiveah's followers.

To them another warrior of Henou's party replied, in what Nicholas calls a masterly style of native eloquence. In easy dignity of manner he greatly excelled the other orators. "He spoke," says the author, "for a considerable time; and I could not behold, without admiration, the graceful elegance of his deportment, and the appropriate accordance of his action. Holding his pattoo-pattoo[CK] in his hand he walked up and down along the margin of the river with a firm and manly step."

The debate was carried on by other speakers for some time longer; but at last it appeared that conciliatory counsels had carried the day. The two parties satisfied themselves with a sham fight, Wiveah merely presenting the injured Henou with a quantity of potatoes.

The most singular part of the debate, however, was yet to come; for immediately after the sham fight, the old orator again rose, and, although vehement enough at the beginning of his harangue, became still more so as he proceeded, till at last he grew quite outrageous, and jumped about the field like a person out of his senses.

In the latter part of the debate, Wiveah and Henou themselves took up the discussion of the question, and seem, by the account given, to have handled it with more mildness and good temper than almost any of their less interested associates.

At the close of Wiveah's last address, however, "his three wives," says Nicholas, "now deemed it expedient to interpose their oratory, as confirming mediators between the parties, though there was no longer any enmity existing on either side. They spoke with great animation, and the warriors listened to their separate speeches in attentive silence. They assumed, I thought, a very determined tone, employing a great deal of impressive action, and looking towards the opposite chief with an asperity of countenance not warranted by the mild forbearance of his deportment. The expostulating harangues, as I should suppose they were, of these sturdy ladies completed the ceremonials of this singular conference; and the reconciliation being thus consummated, the parties now entertained no sentiments towards each other but those of reciprocal amity."

It would appear that the New Zealand women sometimes carry their martial propensities farther than they are stated to have done in the present case. Nicholas was once not a little surprised, while witnessing a sham fight, to observe Duaterra's wife, the Queen of Tippoonah,[CL] exerting himself, with most conspicuous courage, among the very thickest of the combatants.

Her majesty was dressed in a red gown and petticoat, which she had received as a present from Marsden, that reverend gentleman having been obliged himself, in the first instance, to assist in decorating her with these novel articles of attire; and, holding in her hand a large horse-pistol, always selected the most formidable hero she could find as her antagonist.

She was at last, however, fairly exhausted; and stood, at the conclusion of the exhibition, Nicholas tells us, panting for breath. "In this state," says he, "she was pleased to notice me with a distinguished mark of flattering condescension, by holding out her lips for me to kiss, an honour I could have very well dispensed with, but which, at the same time, I could not decline, without offering a slight to a person of such elevated consequence."

He saw, also, some other female warriors, who exposed themselves in the combat with great gallantry. Among them, Marsden tells us, was the widow of Tippahee, a woman apparently not much less than seventy years of age.

Cook also sometimes saw the women armed with spears.

The principal native war-instrument of the New Zealanders is the short thick club, which has been so often mentioned. This weapon they all constantly wear, either fastened in their girdle or held in the right hand and attached by a string to the wrist. It is in shape somewhat like a battledore, varying from ten to eighteen inches in length, including a short handle, and generally about four or five broad, thick in the middle, but worked down to a very sharp edge on both sides. It is most commonly formed of a species of green talc, which appears to be found only in the southern island, and with regard to which the New Zealanders have many superstitious notions. Some of them are made of a darker-coloured stone, susceptible of a high polish; some of whalebone; and Nicholas mentions one, which he saw in the possession of Tippoui, brother of the celebrated George of Wangarooa, and himself one of the leaders of the attack on the 'Boyd,' which, like that of Shungie, which Rutherford speaks of, was of iron, and also highly polished. It had been fabricated by the chief himself, with tools of the most imperfect description; and yet was, in Nicholas's opinion, as well-finished a piece of workmanship as could have been produced by any of our best mechanics. This instrument is employed in close combat, the head being generally the part aimed at; and one well-directed blow is quite enough to split the hardest skull. The name usually given to it, in the earlier accounts of New Zealand, is patoo-patoo. Anderson, in his general remarks on the people of Queen Charlotte Sound, says it is also called Emeeta. But its correct and distinctive name seems to be that by which Rutherford always designates it, the mery or mairy.



Savage tells us that when he took his friend, Moyhanger,[CM] to a shop in the Strand to purchase some tools, he was particularly struck with a common bill-hook, upon which he cast his eyes, as appearing to be a most admirable instrument of slaughter; and we find accordingly that since they have had so much intercourse with Europeans some of the New Zealand warriors have substituted the English bill-hook for their native battle-axe. Nicholas mentions one with which Duaterra was accustomed to arm himself.

Their only missile weapons, except stones, which they merely throw from the hand, are short spears, made of hard wood or whalebone, and pointed at one extremity. These they are very dexterous with, both in darting at a mark, and in receiving or turning aside with the blades of their battle-axes, which are the only shields they use, except the folds of their thick and flowing mats, which they raise on the left arm, and which are tough enough to impede the passage of a spear. They have other spears, however, varying from thirteen or fourteen to thirty feet in length, which they use as lances or bayonets. These, or rather the shorter sort, are also sometimes called by English writers patoos, or patoo-patoos. Lastly, they often carry an instrument somewhat like a sergeant's halbert, curiously carved, and adorned with bunches of parrot's feathers tied round the top of it.

The musket has now, however, in a great measure superseded these primitive weapons, although the New Zealanders are as yet far from being expert in the use of it.

By Rutherford's account, as we have just seen, they only fire off their guns once, and throw them away as soon as they have got fairly engaged, much as some of our own Highland regiments are said formerly to have been in the habit of doing.

Cruise, in like manner, states that they use their firelocks very awkwardly, lose an immense deal of time in looking for a rest and taking aim, and after all, seldom hit their object, unless close to it.

Muskets, however, are by far more prized and coveted by the New Zealander than any of the other commodities to which his intercourse with the civilized world has given him access. The ships that touch at the country always find it the readiest way of obtaining the supplies they want from the natives, to purchase them with arms or ammunition; and the missionaries, who have declined to traffic in these articles, have often scarcely been able to procure a single pig by the most tempting price they could offer in another shape. Although the arms which they have obtained in this way have generally been of the most trashy description, they have been sufficient to secure to the tribes that have been most plentifully provided with them a decided superiority over the rest; and the consequence has been that the people of the Bay of Islands, who have hitherto had most intercourse with European ships, have been of late years the terror of the whole country, and while they themselves have remained uninvaded, have repeatedly carried devastation into its remotest districts.

More recently, however, the River Thames, and the coasts to the south of it, have also been a good deal resorted to by vessels navigating those seas; and a great many muskets have in consequence also found their way into the hands of the inhabitants of that part of the island.

When Rutherford speaks of the two parties whom he saw engaged having had about two thousand stand of arms between them, it may be thought that his estimate is probably an exaggerated one; but it is completely borne out by other authorities. Thus, for example, Davis, one of the missionaries, writes, in 1827: "They have at this time many thousand stand of arms among them, both in the Bay and at the River Thames."

The method of fighting, which is described as being in use among the New Zealanders, in which, after the first onset, every man chooses his individual antagonist, and the field of battle presents merely the spectacle of a multitude of single combats, is the same which has, perhaps, everywhere prevailed, not only in the primitive wars of men, but up to a period of considerable refinement in the history of the military art.

The Greeks and Trojans, at the time of the siege of Troy, used both chariots and missiles; and yet it is evident from Homer that their battles and skirmishes usually resolved themselves in a great measure into a number of duels between heroes who seem to have sometimes paused by mutual consent to hold parley together, without at all minding the course of the general fight.

Exactly the same thing takes place in the battles of the American Indians, who are also possessed of bows and arrows. The New Zealanders have no weapons of this description, and, until their intercourse with Europeans had put muskets into their hands, were without any arms whatever by which one body could, by its combined strength, have made an impression upon another from a distance. Even the long spears which they sometimes used could evidently have been employed with effect only when each was directed with a particular aim. When two parties engaged, therefore, they necessarily always came to close combat, and every man singled out his adversary; a mode of fighting which was, besides, much more adapted to their tempers, and to the feelings of vehement animosity with which they came into the field, than any which would have kept them at a greater distance from each other.

The details of such personal conflicts amongst more refined nations always formed a principal ingredient in poetry and romance, from the times of Homer to those of Spenser. They are, indeed, always uninteresting and tiresome, although related with the highest descriptive power; and even in the splendid descriptions of Ariosto and Tasso there is something absolutely ludicrous in the minute representations of two champions in complete armour, hammering each other about with their maces like blacksmiths.

Still, the poets have clung to this love of individual prowess, wherever their subjects would admit of such descriptions; and, even to our own day, that habit which we derived from the times of chivalry, of describing personal bravery as the greatest of human virtues, is not altogether abandoned.

The realities of modern warfare are, however, very unfavourable to such stimulating representations. The military discipline in use among the more cultivated nations of antiquity, for example the Persians, the Macedonians, the Grecian states, and above all, the Romans, undoubtedly did much to give to their armies the power of united masses, controllable by one will, and not liable to be broken down and rendered comparatively inefficient by the irregular movements of individuals. But it is the introduction of fire-arms which has, most of all, contributed to change the original character of war, and the elements of the strength of armies. Where it is merely one field of artillery opposed to another, and the efficient value of every man on either side lies principally in the musket which he carries on his shoulder, individual strength and courage become alike of little account. The result depends, it may be almost said, entirely on the skill of the commander, not on the exertions of those over whom he exercises nearly as absolute an authority as a chess-player does over his pieces.

If this new system has not diminished the destructiveness of war, it has, at least, very much abated the rancorous feelings with which it was originally carried on. It has converted it from a contest of fierce and vindictive passions into an exercise of science. We have still, doubtless, to lament that the game of blood occasions, whenever it is played, so terrible a waste of human life and happiness; but even the displacement of that brute force, and those other merely animal impulses, by which it used to be mainly directed, and the substitution of regulating principles of a comparatively intellectual and unimpassioned nature, may be considered as indicating, even here, a triumph of civilization.

It is impossible that the business of war can be so corrupting to those engaged in it when it is chiefly a contest of skill, as when it is wholly a contest of passion. Nor is it calculated in the one form to occupy the imagination of a people, as it will do in the other. The evil is therefore mitigated by the introduction of those arts which to many may appear aggravations of this curse of mankind.

Rutherford does not take any notice of the pas, or as they have been called, eppas, or hippahs,[CN] which are found in so many of the New Zealand villages. These are forts, or strongholds, always erected on an eminence, and intended for the protection of the tribe and its most valuable possessions, when reduced by their enemies to the last extremity. These ancient places of refuge have also been very much abandoned since the introduction of fire-arms; but formerly, they were regarded as of great importance.

Cook describes one which he visited on the East Coast, and which was placed on a high point of land projecting into the sea, as wholly inaccessible on the three sides on which it was enclosed by the water; while it was defended on the land side by a ditch of fourteen feet deep, having a bank raised behind it, which added about eight feet more to the glacis. Both banks of the ditch are also, in general, surmounted by palisades, about ten or twelve feet high, formed of strong stakes bound together with withies, and driven very deep into the ground. Within the innermost palisade is usually a stage, supported by posts, from which the besieged throw down darts and stones upon their assailants; and in addition to this, the interior space, which is generally of considerable extent, is sometimes divided into numerous petty eminences, each surrounded by its palisade, and communicating with each other by narrow lanes, admitting of being easily stopped up, in case of the enemy having effected his entrance within the general enclosure. The only road to the strong-hold is by a single narrow and steep passage.

Cruise describes a fort at Wangarooa as situated on an insulated rock, about three hundred feet high, and presenting the most imposing appearance. These elevated palings were a subject of much speculation to those on board of Cook's vessel, when that navigator first approached the coast of New Zealand. Some, he tells us, supposed them to be inclosures for sheep and oxen, while others maintained they were parks of deer.

The New Zealanders may, in some degree, be considered as a warlike people upon the sea. We have no distinct account of any maritime engagements between one tribe and another carried on in their vessels of war; but as these belong to the state, if it may be so termed—that is, as the war canoes are the property of a particular community inhabiting a village or district, as distinguished from the fishing-boats of individuals—it is probable that their hostile encounters may occasionally be carried on upon the element with which a nation of islanders are generally familiar.

Rutherford has given a minute description of a war-canoe, which accords with the representation of such a large vessel in the plates to Cook's "Voyages":—

"Their canoes are made of the largest sized pine-trees, which generally run from 40 to 50 feet long, and are hollowed out, and lengthened about eight feet at each end, and raised about two feet on each side.

"They are built with a figure head; the stern-post extending about ten feet above the stern of the canoe, which is handsomely carved, as well as the figure-head, and the whole body of the canoe. The sides are ornamented with pearl shell, which is let into the carved work, and above that is a row of feathers. On both sides, fore and aft, they have seats in the inside, so that two men can sit abreast. They pull about fifty paddles on each side, and many of them will carry two hundred people. When paddling, the chief stands up and cheers them with a song, to which they all join in chorus. These canoes roll heavy, and go at the rate of seven knots an hour. Their sails are made of straw mats in the shape of a lateen sail. They cook in their canoes, but always go on shore to eat. They are frequently known to go three or four hundred miles along the coast."

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote CF: Probably Wharemata.]

[Footnote CG: Matangi.]

[Footnote CH: Muriwai.]

[Footnote CI: Hinau.]

[Footnote CJ: Probably Waitea.]

[Footnote CK: patu-patu.]

[Footnote CL: Te Puna.]

[Footnote CM: Moehanga.]

[Footnote CN: The former word, "Pa," is correct.]



CHAPTER XIII.

We have noticed all the adventures which Rutherford records to have befallen him during his residence in New Zealand, and have now only to relate the manner in which he at last effected his escape from the country, which we shall do in his own words.

"A few days," says he, "after our return home from Showrackee, we were alarmed by observing smoke ascending in large quantities from several of the mountains, and by the natives running about the village in all directions, and singing out Kipoke,[CO] which signifies a ship on the coast. I was quite overjoyed to hear the news.

"Aimy and I, accompanied by several of the warriors, and followed by a number of slaves, loaded with mats and potatoes, and driving pigs before them for the purpose of trading with the ship, immediately set off for Tokamardo; and in two days we arrived at that place, the unfortunate scene of the capture of our ship and its crew on the 7th of March, 1816. I now perceived the ship under sail, at about twenty miles distance from the land, off which the wind was blowing strong, which prevented her nearing. Meanwhile, as it was drawing towards night, we encamped, and sat down to supper.

"I observed that several of the natives still wore round their necks and wrists many of the trinkets which they had taken out of our ship. As Aimy and I sat together at supper, a slave arrived with a new basket, which he placed before me, saying that it was a present from his master. I asked him what was in the basket, and he informed me that it was part of a slave girl's thigh, that had been killed three days before. It was cooked, he added, and was very nice. I then commanded him to open it, which he did, when it presented the appearance of a piece of pork which had been baked in the oven. I made a present of it to Aimy, who divided it among the chiefs.

"The chiefs now consulted together, and resolved that, if the ship came in, they would take her, and murder the crew. Next morning she was observed to be much nearer than she had been the night before; but the chiefs were still afraid she would not come in, and therefore agreed that I should be sent on board, on purpose to decoy her to the land, which I promised to do.

"I was then dressed in a feathered cloak, belt, and turban, and armed with a battle axe, the head of which was formed of a stone which, resembled green glass, but was so hard as to turn the heaviest blow of the hardest steel. The handle was of hard black wood, handsomely carved and adorned with feathers. In this attire I went off in a canoe, accompanied by a son of one of the chiefs, and four slaves. When we came alongside of the vessel, which turned out to be an American brig, commanded by Captain Jackson, employed in trading among the islands in the South Sea, and then bound for the coast of California, I immediately went on board, and presented myself to the captain, who, as soon as he saw me, exclaimed, 'Here is a white New Zealander.'

"I told him that I was not a New Zealander, but an Englishman; upon which he invited me into his cabin, where I gave him an account of my errand and of all my misfortunes.

"I informed him of the danger his ship would be exposed to if he put in at that part of the island; and therefore begged of him to stand off as quickly as possible, and take me along with him, as this was the only chance I had ever had of escaping.

"By this time the chief's son had begun stealing in the ship, on which the crew tied him up, and flogged him with the clue of one of their hammocks, and then sent him down into his canoe.

"They would have flogged the rest also had not I interceded for them, considering that there might be still some of my unfortunate shipmates living on shore, on whom they might avenge themselves.

"The captain now consented to take me along with him; and, the canoe having been set adrift, we stood off from the island. For the first sixteen months of my residence in New Zealand, I had counted the days by means of notches on a stick; but after that I had kept no reckoning. I now learned, however, that the day on which I was taken off the island was January 9th, 1826. I had, therefore, been a prisoner among these savages ten years, all but two months."

Captain Jackson now gave Rutherford such clothes as he stood in need of, in return for which the latter made him a present of his New Zealand dress and battle axe.

The ship then proceeded to the Society Islands, and anchored on February 10th off Otaheite.

Here Rutherford went into the service of the British consul, by whom he was employed in sawing wood. On May 26th he was married to a chief woman, whose name, he says, was Nowyrooa, by Mr. Pritchard, one of the English missionaries. While he resided here, he was also employed as an interpreter by Captain Peachy, of the "Blossom" sloop of war, then engaged in surveying those islands.

Still, however, longing very much to see his native country, he embarked on January 6th, 1827, on board the brig "Macquarie," commanded by Captain Hunter, and bound for Port Jackson. On taking leave of his wife and friends, he made them a promise to return to the island in two years, "which," says he, "I intend to keep, if it is in my power, and end my days there."

The "Macquarie" reached Port Jackson on February 19th, and Rutherford states that he met there a young woman who had been saved from the massacre of those on board the "Boyd," and who gave him an account of that event. This was probably the daughter of a woman whom Mr. Berry brought to Lima.

He also found at Port Jackson two vessels on their way back to England, with a body of persons who had attempted to form a settlement in New Zealand, but who had been compelled to abandon their design, as he understood, by the treacherous behaviour of the natives.

He now embarked on board the Sydney packet, commanded by Captain Tailor, which proceeded first for Hobart Town, in Van Diemen's Land,[CP] and after lying there for about a fortnight set sail again for Rio de Janeiro.

On his arrival there he went into the service of Mr. Harris, a Dutch gentleman. Mr. Harris, on learning his history, had him presented to the Emperor Don Pedro, who asked him many questions by an interpreter, and made him a present of eighty dollars. He also offered him employment in his navy; but this Rutherford refused, preferring to return to England in the "Blanche" frigate, then on the point of sailing, in which he obtained a passage by an application to the British consul. On the arrival of the ship at Spithead, he immediately left her, and proceeded to Manchester, his native town, which he had not seen since he first went to sea in the year 1806.

After his return to England Rutherford occasionally maintained himself by accompanying a travelling caravan of wonders, showing his tattooing, and telling something of his extraordinary adventures.

The publisher of this volume had many conversations with him in January, 1829, when he was exhibited in London. He was evidently a person of considerable quickness, and great powers of observation. He went over every part of his journal, which was read to him, with considerable care, explaining any difficulties, and communicating several points of information, of which we have availed ourselves in the course of this narrative.

His manners were mild and courteous; he was fond of children, to whom he appeared happy to explain the causes of his singular appearance and he was evidently a man of very sober habits. He was pleased with the idea of his adventures being published; and was delighted to have his portrait painted, though he suffered much inconvenience in sitting to the artist, with the upper part of his body uncovered, in a severe frost.

Upon the whole he seemed to have acquired a great deal of the frankness and easy confidence of the people with whom he had been living, and was somewhat out of his element amidst the constrained intercourse and unvarying occupations of England. He greatly disliked being shown for money, which he submitted to principally that he might acquire a sum, in addition to what he received for his manuscript, to return to Otaheite.

We have not heard of him since that time; and the probability is that he has accomplished his wishes. He said that he should have no hesitation in going to New Zealand; that his old companions would readily believe that he had been carried away by force; that from his knowledge of their customs, he could be most advantageously employed in trading with them; and that, above all, if he were to take back a blacksmith with him, and plenty of iron, he might acquire many of the most valuable productions of the country, particularly tortoiseshell,[CQ] which he considered the best object for an English commercial adventure.[CR]

Rutherford is not the only native of a civilized country whose fate it has been to become resident for some time among the savages of New Zealand. Besides his shipmates, who were taken prisoners along with him, he himself, indeed, as we have seen, mentions two other individuals whom he met with while in the country, one of whom had been eight years there, and did not seem to have any wish to leave it.



Savage gives a short notice of a European who was living in the neighbourhood of the Bay of Islands when he was there in 1805. This person, whose native country, or the circumstances that had induced him to take up his abode where he then was, Savage could not discover, shunned all intercourse with Europeans, and was wont to retire to the interior whenever a ship approached the coast. The natives, however, whose customs and manners he had adopted, spoke well of him; and Savage often saw a New Zealand woman who lived with him, and one of their children, which he represents as very far from exhibiting any superiority either in mind or person over his associates of unmixed breed. Its complexion was the same as that of the others, being distinguished from them only by its light flaxen hair.

Marsden, also, in a letter written in 1813 to the secretary of the Church Missionary Society, mentions a young man, a native of America, with whom he had conversed in New South Wales, and who had lived for above a year with the New Zealanders.

During all this time these savages, he said, had shown him the greatest attention, and he would have been very glad to return to live among them if he could have found any other Europeans to go with him.

Since the Bay of Islands has become so much the resort of shipping, many seamen have left their ships and taken up their residence of their own accord among the natives. The "Missionary Reports" state that, about the close of the year 1824, there were perhaps twenty men who had thus found their way into the country, and were living on plunder; and that within the year not less, it was supposed, than a hundred sailors had in the same manner taken refuge for a time in the island.

Although these men had all run away from their own ships, the captains of other vessels touching at any part of the coast did not hesitate to employ them when they wanted hands.

Mawman, whom Rutherford met with at Kiperra, had, it will be recollected, made his escape, according to his own account, from a sloop of war. These fugitives, however, it would appear, do not always succeed in establishing themselves among the natives. Cruise mentions one who, having run away from the "Anne" whaler, hid himself at first in the woods, but soon after came on board the "Dromedary" in a most miserable state, beseeching to be taken on the strength of the ship.

Convicts, too, occasionally make their escape to New Zealand, and attempt to secrete themselves in the interior of the country. When the "Active" was at the Bay of Islands in 1815, two men and a woman of this description were sent on board to be taken back to New South Wales. The woman, Nicholas says, was particularly dejected on being retaken; and it was found that while on shore she had done everything in her power to prevail upon one of the native females to assist her in her attempt to conceal herself. Her friend, however, resisted all her entreaties; and well knowing the hardships to which the poor creature would have exposed herself, only replied to her importunate solicitations, "Me would, Mary, but me got no tea, me got no sugar, no bed, no good things for you; me grieve to see you, you cannot live like New Zealand woman, you cannot sleep on the ground."

The Rev. Mr. Butler, in March, 1821, found two convicts who had escaped from a whaler, in the hands of one of the chiefs, who was just preparing to put them to death. On Butler interfering and begging that their lives might be spared, the New Zealanders replied: "They are nothing but slaves and thieves; they look like bad men, and are very ragged; they do not belong to you, and we think they are some of King George's bad cookees." After a great deal of discussion, however, they yielded so far to Butler's entreaties and arguments as to agree not to kill the two men; but the chief insisted that they should go home with him and work for him four months, after which he said that he would give them up to any ship that would take them to "King George's farm at Port Jackson."

When Nicholas was in New Zealand in 1815, he met with a Hindoo, who had made his escape from Captain Patterson's ship, the "City of Edinburgh," about five years before, and had been living among the natives ever since. Compared with the New Zealanders, he looked, Nicholas says, like a pigmy among giants. However, he had got so much attached to the manners of his new associates that he declared he would much rather remain where he was than return to his own country. He had married a native woman, and was treated, he said, in the kindest manner by the New Zealanders, who always supplied him with plenty of food without compelling him to do more work than he chose. Nicholas offered him some rice, but he intimated that he decidedly preferred fern-root.

The circumstances of Rutherford's capture and detention in New Zealand were but indifferently calculated to reconcile him to the new state of society in which he was there compelled to mix, notwithstanding the rank to which his superior intelligence and activity raised him.

Though a chief, he was still a prisoner; and even all the favour with which he had himself been treated could not make him forget the fate of his companions, or the warning which it afforded him to how sudden or slight an accident his own life might at any time fall a sacrifice. But it is certain that, where no such sense of constraint is felt, not only the notion, but even the reality, of savage life has a strong charm for many minds. The insecurity and privation which attend upon it are deemed but a slight counterbalance to the independence, the exemption from regular labour, and above all the variety of adventure, which it promises to ardent and reckless spirits.

Generally, however, the Europeans that have adopted the life of the savage have been men driven out from civilization, or disinclined to systematic industry. They have not chosen the imaginary freedom and security of barbarians, in contempt of the artificial restraints and legal oppressions of a refined state of society, in the way that the Greek did, whom Priscus found in the camp of Attila, declaring that he lived more happily amongst the wild Scythians than ever he did under the Roman government.

But if those who have been accustomed to the comforts of civilization have not infrequently felt the influence of the seductions which a barbarous condition offers to an excited imagination, it may well be conceived that, to the man who has been born a savage, and nurtured in all the feelings and habits of that state of society, they must address themselves with still more irresistible effect.

We have many examples, accordingly, of how difficult it is to extinguish, by any culture, either in an old or a young savage, his innate passion for the wild life of his fathers.

Tippahee's son, Matara, on his return from England, strove to regain an acquaintance with his native customs. Moyhanger, Savage's friend, might be quoted as another instance, in whom all the wonders and attractions of London would appear not to have excited a wish to see it again. Nor does any great preference for civilized life seem to have been produced in other cases, by even a much longer experience of its accommodations.

When Nicholas and Marsden visited New Zealand in 1815, they met at the North Cape, where they first put on shore, a native of Otaheite, who had been brought from his own country to Port Jackson when a boy of about eleven or twelve years old. Here he had lived for some years in the family of Mr. McArthur, where he had been treated with great kindness, and brought up in all respects as an English boy would have been. Having been sent to school he soon learned not only to speak English with fluency, but to read and write it with very superior ability; and he showed himself besides in everything remarkably tractable and obedient. Yet nothing could wean him from his partiality to his original condition; and he at last quitted the house of his protector, and contrived to find his way to New Zealand. Here he settled among a people even still more uncivilized than his own countrymen, and married the daughter of one of the chiefs, to whose territories he had succeeded when Nicholas met with him.

Jem (that was the name by which he had been known at Port Jackson) was then a young man of about twenty-three years of age. Unlike his brother chiefs, he was cleanly in his person; and his countenance not being tattooed, nor darker than that of a Spaniard, while his manners displayed a European polish, it was only his dress that betokened the savage.

"His hair," says Nicholas, "which had been very carefully combed, was tied up in a knot upon the crown of his head, and adorned with a long white feather fancifully stuck in it; in his ears were large bunches of the down of the gannet, white as the driven snow, and napping about his cheeks with every gale. Like the natives, he wore the mat thrown over his shoulders; but the one he had on was bordered with a deep Vandyke of different colours, and gaily bedizened with the feathers of parrots and other birds, reflecting at the same moment all the various shades in the rainbow. He carried a musket in his hand, and had a martial and imposing air about him, which was quite in character with the station he maintained."

He brought his wife with him in a canoe to the ship; and having known Marsden well in New South Wales, was delighted to see that gentleman, and proved of considerable use to him in his intercourse with the other New Zealanders. Although not accustomed to speak English in his new country, Jem had by no means forgotten that language. He had been on three warlike expeditions to the East Cape in the course of the past five years; but had gone, he said, only because he could not help it, and had never assisted in devouring the prisoners. Dillon met both Jem and the Hindoo, when he was at the Bay of Islands in July, 1827. The former had his son with him, a boy about twelve years of age.

These, and many other examples which might be added, exhibit the force of habit which governs the actions of all men, whether in a savage or civilized state. There are, of course, exceptions. When Cook left Omai,[CS] during his last voyage, at Huaheine, with every provision for his comfort, he earnestly begged to return to England. It was nothing that a grant of land was made to him at the interposition of his English friends, that a house was built and a garden planted for his use. He wept bitter tears; for he was naturally afraid that his new riches would make him an object of hatred to his countrymen. He was much caressed in England; and he took back many valuable possessions and some knowledge. But he was originally one of the common people; and he soon saw, although he was not sensible of it at first, that without rank he could obtain no authority. He forgot this, when he was away from the people with whom he was to end his days; but he seemed to feel that he should be insecure when his protector, Cook, had left their shores. He divided his presents with the chiefs; and the great navigator threatened them with his vengeance if Omai was molested. The reluctance of this man to return to his original conditions was principally derived from these considerations, which were to him of a strictly personal nature. The picture which a popular poet has drawn of the feelings of Omai is very beautiful, and in great part true as applied to him as an individual; but it is not true of the mass of savages.

The habits amidst which they were born may be modified by an intercourse with civilized men, but they cannot be eradicated. The following is the poetical passage to which we alluded. Omai had, altogether, a more distinguished destiny than any other savage—he was cherished by Cook, painted by Reynolds, and apostrophised by Cowper:—

"The dream is past, and thou hast found again Thy cocoas and bananas, palms and yams, And homestall thatch'd with leaves. But hast thou found Their former charms? And, having seen our state, Our palaces, our ladies, and our pomp Of equipage, our gardens, and our sports, And heard our music, are thy simple friends, Thy simple fare, and all thy plain delights, As dear to thee as once? And have thy joys Lost nothing by comparison with ours? Rude as thou art (for we return'd thee rude And ignorant, except of outward show) I cannot think thee yet so dull of heart And spiritless, as never to regret Sweets tasted here, and left as soon as known. Methinks I see thee straying on the beach, And asking of the surge that bathes thy foot, If ever it has wash'd our distant shore. I see thee weep, and thine are honest tears, A patriot's for his country: thou art sad At thought of her forlorn and abject state, From which no power of thine can raise her up."

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote CO: Kaipuke, a ship.]

[Footnote CP: That is, Tasmania.]

[Footnote CQ: There are no tortoises in New Zealand.]

[Footnote CR: Rutherford did not return to New Zealand, and nothing more was heard of him. On December 5th, 1828, "The Australian," which 'was published in Sydney, stated that a man named Rutherford, who had been tattooed by the Maoris, and naturalized by them, was then in London, practising the trade of a pickpocket, in the character of a New Zealand chief, but that was before he supplied his story for "The New Zealanders."]

[Footnote CS: Omai was an islander, who was taken to England, where he was lionized, and was afterwards taken back to the islands during Cook's last voyage.]

THE END