The Book of the Bush Part 1

The Book of the Bush.

by George Dunderdale.

PURGING OUT THE OLD LEAVEN.

While the world was young, nations could be founded peaceably. There was plenty of unoccupied country, and when two neighbouring patriarchs found their flocks were becoming too numerous for the pasture, one said to the other: "Let there be no quarrel, I pray, between thee and me; the whole earth is between us, and the land is watered as the garden of Paradise. If thou wilt go to the east, I will go to the west; or if thou wilt go to the west, I will go to the east." So they parted in peace.

But when the human flood covered the whole earth, the surplus population was disposed of by war, famine, or pestilence. Death is the effectual remedy for over-population. Heroes arose who had no conscientious scruples. They skinned their natives alive, or crucified them. They were then adored as demi-G.o.ds, and placed among the stars.

Pious Aeneas was the pattern of a good emigrant in the early times, but with all his piety he did some things that ought to have made his favouring deities blush, if possible.

America, when discovered for the last of many times, was a.s.signed by the Pope to the Spaniards and Portuguese. The natives were not consulted; but they were not exterminated; their descendants occupy the land to the present day.

England claimed a share in the new continent, and it was parcelled out to merchant adventurers by royal charter. The adventures of these merchants were various, but they held on to the land.

New England was given to the Puritans by no earthly potentate, their t.i.tle came direct from heaven. Increase Mather said: "The Lord G.o.d has given us for a rightful possession the land of the Heathen People amongst whom we dwell;" and where are the Heathen People now?

Australia was not given to us either by the Pope or by the Lord. We took this land, as we have taken many other lands, for our own benefit, without asking leave of either heaven or earth. A continent, with its adjacent islands, was practically vacant, inhabited only by that unearthly animal the kangaroo, and by black savages, who had not even invented the bow and arrow, never built a hut or cultivated a yard of land. Such people could show no valid claim to land or life, so we confiscated both. The British Islands were infested with criminals from the earliest times. Our ancestors were all pirates, and we have inherited from them a lurking taint in our blood, which is continually impelling us to steal something or kill somebody. How to get rid of this taint was a problem which our statesmen found it difficult to solve. In times of war they mitigated the evil by filling the ranks of our armies from the gaols, and manning our navies by the help of the press-gang, but in times of peace the sc.u.m of society was always increasing.

At last a great idea arose in the mind of England. Little was known of New Holland, except that it was large enough to harbour all the criminals of Great Britain and the rest of the population if necessary. Why not transport all convicts, separate the chaff from the wheat, and purge out the old leaven? By expelling all the wicked, England would become the model of virtue to all nations.

So the system was established. Old s.h.i.+ps were chartered and filled with the contents of the gaols. If the s.h.i.+ps were not quite seaworthy it did not matter much. The voyage was sure to be a success; the pa.s.sengers might never reach land, but in any case they would never return. On the vessels conveying male convicts, some soldiers and officers were embarked to keep order and put down mutiny. Order was kept with the lash, and mutiny was put down with the musket. On the s.h.i.+ps conveying women there were no soldiers, but an extra half-crew was engaged. These men were called "s.h.i.+lling-a-month"

men, because they had agreed to work for one s.h.i.+lling a month for the privilege of being allowed to remain in Sydney. If the voyage lasted twelve months they would thus have the sum of twelve s.h.i.+llings with which to commence making their fortunes in the Southern Hemisphere.

But the "s.h.i.+lling-a-month" man, as a matter of fact, was not worth one cent the day after he landed, and he had to begin life once more barefoot, like a new-born babe.

The seamen's food on board these transports was bad and scanty, consisting of live biscuit, salt horse, Yankee pork, and Scotch coffee. The Scotch coffee was made by steeping burnt biscuit in boiling water to make it strong. The convicts' breakfast consisted of oatmeal porridge, and the hungry seamen used to crowd round the galley every morning to steal some of it. It would be impossible for a nation ever to become virtuous and rich if its seamen and convicts were reared in luxury and encouraged in habits of extravagance.

When the transport cast anchor in the beautiful harbour of Port Jackson, the s.h.i.+p's blacksmith was called out of his bunk at midnight. It was his duty to rivet chains on the legs of the second-sentence men--the twice convicted. They had been told on the voyage that they would have an island all to themselves, where they would not be annoyed by the contemptuous looks and bitter jibes of better men. All night long the blacksmith plied his hammer and made the s.h.i.+p resound with the rattling chains and ringing manacles, as he fastened them well on the legs of the prisoners. At dawn of day, chained together in pairs, they were landed on Goat Island; that was the bright little isle--their promised land. Every morning they were taken over in boats to the town of Sydney, where they had to work as scavengers and road-makers until four o'clock in the afternoon. They turned out their toes, and shuffled their feet along the ground, dragging their chains after them. The police could always identify a man who had been a chain-gang prisoner during the rest of his life by the way he dragged his feet after him.

In their leisure hours these convicts were allowed to make cabbage-tree hats. They sold them for about a s.h.i.+lling each, and the shop-keepers resold them for a dollar. They were the best hats ever worn in the Sunny South, and were nearly indestructible; one hat would last a lifetime, but for that reason they were bad for trade, and became unfas.h.i.+onable.

The rest of the transported were a.s.signed as servants to those willing to give them food and clothing without wages. The free men were thus enabled to grow rich by the labours of the bondmen--vice was punished and virtue rewarded.

Until all the pa.s.sengers had been disposed of, sentinels were posted on the deck of the transport with orders to shoot anyone who attempted to escape. But when all the convicts were gone, Jack was sorely tempted to follow the s.h.i.+lling-a-month men. He quietly slipped ash.o.r.e, hurried off to Botany Bay, and lived in retirement until his s.h.i.+p had left Port Jackson. He then returned to Sydney, penniless and barefoot, and began to look for a berth. At the Rum Puncheon wharf he found a s.h.i.+lling-a-month man already installed as cook on a colonial schooner. He was invited to breakfast, and was astonished and delighted with the luxuries lavished on the colonial seaman. He had fresh beef, fresh bread, good biscuit, tea, coffee, and vegetables, and three pounds a month wages. There was a vacancy on the schooner for an able seaman, and Jack filled it. He then registered a solemn oath that he would "never go back to England no more," and kept it.

Some kind of Government was necessary, and, as the first inhabitants were criminals, the colony was ruled like a gaol, the Governor being head gaoler. His officers were mostly men who had been trained in the army and navy. They were all poor and needy, for no gentleman of wealth and position would ever have taken office in such a community.

They came to make a living, and when free immigrants arrived and trade began to flourish, it was found that the one really valuable commodity was rum, and by rum the officers grew rich. In course of time the country was divided into districts, about thirty or thirty-five in number, over each of which an officer presided as police magistrate, with a clerk and staff of constables, one of whom was official flogger, always a convict promoted to the billet for merit and good behaviour.

New Holland soon became an organised pandemonium, such as the world had never known since Sodom and Gomorrah disappeared in the Dead Sea, and the details of its history cannot be written. To mitigate its horrors the worst of the criminals were transported to Norfolk Island. The Governor there had not the power to inflict capital punishment, and the convicts began to murder one another in order to obtain a brief change of misery, and the pleasure of a sea voyage before they could be tried and hanged in Sydney. A branch pandemonium was also established in Van Diemen's Land. This system was upheld by England for about fifty years.

The 'Britannia', a convict s.h.i.+p, the property of Messrs. Enderby & Sons, arrived at Sydney on October 14th, 1791, and reported that vast numbers of sperm whales were seen after doubling the south-west cape of Van Diemen's Land. Whaling vessels were fitted out in Sydney, and it was found that money could be made by oil and whalebone as well as by rum. Sealing was also pursued in small vessels, which were often lost, and sealers lie buried in all the islands of the southern seas, many of them having a story to tell, but no story-teller.

Whalers, runaway seamen, s.h.i.+lling-a-month men, and escaped convicts were the earliest settlers in New Zealand, and were the first to make peaceful intercourse with the Maoris possible. They built themselves houses with wooden frames, covered with reeds and rushes, learned to converse in the native language, and became family men. They were most of them English and Americans, with a few Frenchmen. They loved freedom, and preferred Maori customs, and the risk of being eaten, to the odious supervision of the English Government. The individual white man in those days was always welcome, especially if he brought with him guns, ammunition, tomahawks, and hoes. It was by these articles that he first won the respect and admiration of the native.

If the visitor was a "pakeha tutua," a poor European, he might receive hospitality for a time, in the hope that some profit might be made out of him. But the Maori was a poor man also, with a great appet.i.te, and when it became evident that the guest was no better than a pauper, and could not otherwise pay for his board, the Maori sat on the ground, meditating and watching, until his teeth watered, and at last he attached the body and baked it.

In 1814 the Church Missionary Society sent labourers to the distant vineyard to introduce Christianity, and to instruct the natives in the rights of property. The first native protector of Christianity and letters was Hongi Hika, a great warrior of the Ngapuhi nation, in the North Island. He was born in 1777, and voyaging to Sydney in 1814, he became the guest of the Rev. Mr. Marsden. In 1819 the rev.

gentleman bought his settlement at Kerikeri from Hongi Hika, the price being forty-eight axes. The area of the settlement was thirteen thousand acres. The land was excellent, well watered, in a fine situation, and near a good harbour. Hongi next went to England with the Rev. Mr. Kendall to see King George, who was at that time in matrimonial trouble. Hongi was surprised to hear that the King had to ask permission of anyone to dispose of his wife Caroline. He said he had five wives at home, and he could clear off the whole of them if he liked without troubling anybody. He received valuable presents in London, which he brought back to Sydney, and sold for three hundred muskets and ammunition. The year 1822 was the most glorious time of his life. He raised an army of one thousand men, three hundred of whom had been taught the use of his muskets. The neighbouring tribes had no guns. He went up the Tamar, and at Totara slew five hundred men, and baked and ate three hundred of them. On the Waipa he killed fourteen hundred warriors out of a garrison of four thousand, and then returned home with crowds of slaves. The other tribes began to buy guns from the traders as fast as they were able to pay for them with flax; and in 1827, at w.a.n.garoa, a bullet went through Hongi's lungs, leaving a hole in his back through which he used to whistle to entertain his friends; but he died of the wound fifteen months afterwards.

Other men, both clerical and lay, followed the lead of the Rev. Mr.

Marsden. In 1821 Mr. Fairbairn bought four hundred acres for ten pounds worth of trade. Baron de Thierry bought forty thousand acres on the Hokianga River for thirty-six axes. From 1825 to 1829 one million acres were bought by settlers and merchants. Twenty-five thousand acres were bought at the Bay of Islands and Hokianga in five years, seventeen thousand of which belonged to the missionaries. In 1835 the Rev. Henry Williams made a bold offer for the unsold country. He forwarded a deed of trust to the governor of New South Wales, requesting that the missionaries should be appointed trustees for the natives for the remainder of their lands, "to preserve them from the intrigues of designing men." Before the year 1839, twenty millions of acres had been purchased by the clergy and laity for a few guns, axes, and other trifles, and the Maoris were fast wasting their inheritance. But the t.i.tles were often imperfect. When a man had bought a few hundreds of acres for six axes and a gun, and had paid the price agreed on to the owner, another owner would come and claim the land because his grandfather had been killed on it. He sat down before the settler's house and waited for payment, and whether he got any or not he came at regular intervals during the rest of his life and sat down before the door with his spear and mere* by his side waiting for more purchase money.

[Footnote] *Axe made of greenstone.

Some honest people in England heard of the good things to be had in New Zealand, formed a company, and landed near the mouth of the Hokianga River to form a settlement. The natives happened to be at war, and were performing a war dance. The new company looked on while the natives danced, and then all desire for land in New Zealand faded from their hearts. They returned on board their s.h.i.+p and sailed away, having wasted twenty thousand pounds. Such people should remain in their native country. Your true rover, lay or clerical, comes for something or other, and stays to get it, or dies.

After twenty years of labour, and an expenditure of two hundred thousand pounds, the missionaries claimed only two thousand converts, and these were Christians merely in name. In 1825 the Rev. Henry Williams said the natives were as insensible to redemption as brutes, and in 1829 the Methodists in England contemplated withdrawing their establishment for want of success.

The Catholic Bishop Pompallier, with two priests, landed at Hokianga on January 10th, 1838, and took up his residence at the house of an Irish Catholic named Poynton, who was engaged in the timber trade.

Poynton was a truly religious man, who had been living for some time among the Maoris. He was desirous of marrying the daughter of a chief, but he wished that she should be a Christian, and, as there was no Catholic priest nearer than Sydney, he sailed to that port with the chief and his daughter, called on Bishop Polding, and informed him of the object of his visit. A course of instruction was given to the father and daughter, Poynton acting as interpreter; they were baptised, and the marriage took place. After the lapse of sixty years their descendents were found to have retained the faith, and were living as good practical Catholics.

Bishop Pompallier celebrated his first Ma.s.s on January 13th, 1838, and the news of his arrival was soon noised abroad and discussed.

The Methodist missionaries considered the action of the bishop as an unwarrantable intrusion on their domain, and, being Protestants, they resolved to protest. This they did through the medium of thirty native warriors, who appeared before Poynton's house early in the morning of January 22nd, when the bishop was preparing to say Ma.s.s.

The chief made a speech. He said the bishop and his priests were enemies to the Maoris. They were not traders, for they had brought no guns, no axes. They had been sent by a foreign chief (the Pope) to deprive the Maoris of their land, and make them change their old customs. Therefore he and his warriors had come to break the crucifix, and the ornaments of the altar, and to take the bishop and his priests to the river.

The bishop replied that, although he was not a trader, he had come as a friend, and did not wish to deprive them of their country or anything belonging to them. He asked them to wait a while, and if they could find him doing the least injury to anyone they could take him to the river. The warriors agreed to wait, and went away.

Next day the bishop went further up the river to Wherinaki, where Laming, a pakeha Maori, resided. Laming was an Irish-Protestant who had great influence with his tribe, which was numerous and warlike.

He was admired by the natives for his strength and courage. He was six feet three inches in height, as nimble and spry as a cat, and as long-winded as a coyote. His father-in-law was a famous warrior named Lizard Skin. His religion was that of the Church of England, and he persuaded his tribe to profess it. He told them that the Protestant G.o.d was stronger than the Catholic G.o.d wors.h.i.+pped by his fellow countryman, Poynton. In after years, when his converts made cartridges of their Bibles and rejected Christianity, he was forced to confess that their religion was of this world only. They prayed that they might be brave in battle, and that their enemies might be filled with fear.

Laming's Christian zeal did not induce him to forget the duties of hospitality. He received the bishop as a friend, and the Europeans round Tatura and other places came regularly to Ma.s.s. During the first six years of the mission, twenty thousand Maoris either had been baptised or were being prepared for baptism.

Previous to the year 1828 some flax had been brought to Sydney from New Zealand, and manufactured into every species of cordage except cables, and it was found to be stronger than Baltic hemp. On account of the ferocious character of the Maoris, the Sydney Government sent several vessels to open communication with the tribes before permitting private individuals to embark in the trade. The ferocity attributed to the natives was not so much a part of their personal character as the result of their habits and beliefs. They were remarkable for great energy of mind and body, foresight, and self-denial. Their average height was about five feet six inches, but men from six feet to six feet six inches were not uncommon.

Their point of honour was revenge, and a man who remained quiet while the manes of his friend or relation were unappeased by the blood of the enemy, would be dishonoured among his tribe.

The Maoris were in reality loath to fight, and war was never begun until after long talk. Their object was to exterminate or enslave their enemies, and they ate the slain.

Before commencing hostilities, the warriors endeavoured to put fear into the hearts of their opponents by enumerating the names of the fathers, uncles, or brothers of those in the hostile tribe whom they had slain and eaten in former battles. When a fight was progressing the women looked on from the rear. They were naked to the waist, and wore skirts of matting made from flax. As soon as a head was cut off they ran forward, and brought it away, leaving the body on the ground. If many were slain it was sometimes difficult to discover to what body each head had belonged, whether it was that of a friend or a foe, and it was lawful to bake the bodies of enemies only.

Notwithstanding their peculiar customs, one who knew the Maoris well described them as the most patient, equable, forgiving people in the world, but full of superst.i.tious ideas, which foreigners could not understand.

They believed that everything found on their coast was sent to them by the sea G.o.d, Taniwa, and they therefore endeavoured to take possession of the blessings conferred on them by seizing the first s.h.i.+ps that anch.o.r.ed in their rivers and harbours. This led to misunderstandings and fights with their officers and crews, who had no knowledge of the sea G.o.d, Taniwa. It was found necessary to put netting all round the vessels as high as the tops to prevent surprise, and when trade began it was the rule to admit no more than five Maoris on board at once.

The flax was found growing spontaneously in fields of inexhaustible extent along the more southerly sh.o.r.es of the islands. The fibre was separated by the females, who held the top of the leaf between their toes, and drew a sh.e.l.l through the whole length of the leaf. It took a good cleaner to sc.r.a.pe fifteen pounds weight of it in a day; the average was about ten pounds, for which the traders gave a fig of tobacco and a pipe, two sheets of cartridge paper, or one pound of lead. The price at which the flax was sold in Sydney varied from 20 pounds to 45 pounds per ton, according to quality, so there was a large margin of profit to the trader. In 1828 sixty tons of flax valued at 2,600 pounds, were exported from Sydney to England.

The results of trading with the foreigners were fatal to the natives.

At first the trade was in axes, knives, and other edge-tools, beads, and ornaments, but in 1832 the Maoris would scarcely take anything but arms and ammunition, red woollen s.h.i.+rts, and tobacco.

Every man in a native hapu had to procure a musket, or die. If the warriors of the hapu had no guns they would soon be all killed by some tribe that had them. The price of one gun, together with the requisite powder, was one ton of cleaned flax, prepared by the women and slaves in the sickly swamps. In the meantime the food crops were neglected, hunger and hard labour killed many, some fell victims to diseases introduced by the white men, and the children nearly all died.

And the Maoris are still dying out of the land, blighted by our civilization. They were willing to learn and to be taught, and they began to work with the white men. In 1853 I saw nearly one hundred of them, naked to the waist, sinking shafts for gold on Bendigo, and no Cousin Jacks worked harder. We could not, of course, make them Englishmen--the true Briton is born, not made; but could we not have kept them alive if we had used reasonable means to do so? Or is it true that in our inmost souls we wanted them to die, that we might possess their land in peace?

Besides flax, it was found that New Zealand produced most excellent timber--the kauri pine. The first visitors saw sea-going canoes beautifully carved by rude tools of stone, which had been hollowed out, each from a single tree, and so large that they were manned by one hundred warriors. The gum trees of New Holland are extremely hard, and their wood is so heavy that it sinks in water like iron. But the kauri, with a leaf like that of the gum tree, is the toughest of pines, though soft and easily worked--suitable for s.h.i.+pbuilding, and for masts and spars. In 1830 twenty-eight vessels made fifty-six voyages from Sydney to New Zealand, chiefly for flax; but they also left parties of men to prosecute the whale and seal fisheries, and to cut kauri pine logs. Two vessels were built by English mechanics, one of 140 tons, and the other of 370 tons burden, and the natives began to a.s.sist the new-comers in all their labours.

At this time most of the villages had at least one European resident called a Pakeha Maori, under the protection of a chief of rank and influence, and married to a relative of his, either legally or by native custom. It was through the resident that all the trading of the tribe was carried on. He bought and paid for the flax, and employed men to cut the pine logs and float them down the rivers to the s.h.i.+ps.

Every whaling and trading vessel that returned to Sydney or Van Diemen's Land brought back accounts of the wonderful prospects which the islands afforded to men of enterprise, and New Zealand became the favourite refuge for criminals, runaway prisoners, and other lovers of freedom. When, therefore the crew of the schooner 'Industry'

threw Captain Blogg overboard, it was a great comfort to them to know that they were going to an island in which there was no Government.