CHATHAM ISLAND SKETCHES

Hawke's Bay Herald, Volume 11, Issue 856, 9 July 1867, Page 2

CHATHAM ISLAND SKETCHES

(From our own correspondent.) OUR VILLAGE. Our village is a pleasant little island retreat, far from the busy haunts of the world, deeply embosomed in the mighty waters of the Southern Pacific, and situated on the margin of a picturesque little bay whose waters alternately lave the shore in waves of liquid gold, or lash the bluff old rocks with interminable fury — curling into dark nooks and tiny hollows with restless and devouring rage. At such times the devoted mariners secure their little barques with strong fetters and trust in him" who holdeth the winds in the hollow of his hands" ; yet not unfrequently, strong cables and massive links are broken like threads of flax, and the doomed vessel, winged to its own destruction, is driven ashore on the long sandy beach which skirts our village. Nevertheless, in the bright and warm sunshine, our Island home presents many a fair and lovely scene, bursting forth into beauty beneath its genial ray. Pleasant little dells and undulating hills, groups of forest trees, lagoons, and winding rivulets, and flowers whose hues outvie the azure of a tropical sky ; but all is in a primeval state, as it came from the hand of a beneficent creator, and it now remains for man to work out the Almighty design. Our Village, however, is an affair of very recent date. We can boast of no moss-clad ruins or time-honoured dwellings, with their pleasant caves, from which the merry birds twit us with their morning song ; but on the spot which so recently resounded with the war cry of the savage, or the mournful chaunt ofthe Maori woman, pleasant little dwellings are arising, and the sound of infantine voices fall upon our ears like some sweet melody of other days, and busy little feet plash along the pebbly beach as they gather up the treasures of the deep or launch tbeir mimic barques upon its calm surface. The upturned faces of those little ones are so bright and joyful, so replete with innocence and beauty, that we are involuntarily reminded of Him who exclaimed in the fulness of his love, "Suffer little children to come unto me," From the sublime to the ridiculous, however, there is but one step, and those pleasing reveries are dispelled by a strange and unusual spectacle. A drunken toper, who has been sacrificing too freely at the shrine of Bacchus, comes reeling along the beach, or, as aY ankee would say, corkscrewing bis way along with a brick in his hat. In another moment he is enfolded in the fraternal embrace of a policeman and borne away to durance vile. This part of the programme, however, is viewed with the most intense and unmitigated disgust by a select party of the old identities, who deem it a grosser infringement of personal-liberty than suspension of the Habeus Corpus Act; and sigh: for the good old primitive days — When a man oould get jolly, and banish oare In spite of their beaks or their, parley, Lie down in the gutter, and take his repose Undisturbed by the fear of a Charlie. Our Village is a small one ; but pleasant little dwellings are springing up as it were on every side, with here and there a convenient garden patch, well stocked with choice vegetables and bordered around by many a fair and fragrant flower ; and in the midst stands a modest building with trim gravelled pathways, neatly railed in and surmounted by a towering flagstaff, from which on high holidays or on the approach of a vessel, the flag floats out most flauntingly. Within the walls of this unpretending edifice men " render up to Cassar the" things that are Cassar's." At the present time however the receipts form a very unimportant cypher in the imperial account. Here also, unhappy sinners confront the awful majesty of Justice, and tremblingly await their doom; and here also, until very recently, on each successive Sabbath our community would assemble to supplicate Heaven for the mercy we too often deny our fellow sinners, and to listen to the pious exhortations of our chief magistrate, by whom the duties of a village pastor are most faithfully fulfilled. Conspicuous amongst other buildings arises our Village Hostel, an establishment in itself par excellence. There, the wayworn traveUer may recruit his exhausted energies — rest and be thankful, or recline cosily by the glowing fireside, and listen to the conflicting elements without with feelings of unmingled satisfaction. Of course all these important changes have brought about a new state of things, and our society may be considered in its transition state, but the rude simplicity of our earlier settlers has been shaken to the centre by the conventionalities and etiquette of fashionable lite. When Adam delved and Eve span, Who was then the gentleman, — Already the line of demarcation has been drawn, and in some cases so unkindly, that it forcibly reminds one of the fastidious barber who stoutly refused upon principle to shave an aspiring coalheaver ; it was necessary the line should be drawn somewhere and he drew it at the baker. Our Village can boast neither a Herald nor Gazette . nevertheless the domestic troubles, mishaps, and shortcomings of each aud all are communicated with the rapidity of a telegraphic despatch. In common, however, with other fashionable localities, we can boast our Saiiy Gamps and Betsey Prigs, with that shadowy personage, Mrs. Harris, most conveniently in the back ground ; and nothing can be too highly seasoned for the subject of their interesting gossip. The flavour of a " Young Cowcumber" or the fair fame of a fellow being is discussed with equal gusto j and the confidential scandal invariably rolls on accumulating fresh slander in its course, until tho hue and cry is taken up by others, and an innocent victim, perchance, is morally done to death. Alas for the rarity of Christian charity Under the sun. — Of course the onus of this dirty work invariably falls upon little Tommy's mother, but unfortunately, that mythological personage is non est. AS" may be supposed, this morbid desire for unchristian gossip interferes most seriously with the peace and tranquillity of our village, and ifc must be admitted that our normal condition is in a very unsatisfactory state ; nevertheless in this world unbroken harmony is almost as unattainable as a cloudless sky, but by adhering to the following wise counsels of a sage philosopher, Our Village may be rendered a calm and tranquil retreat from the turmoil of the world. In fact, this little village of the Pacific might become a pacific one ; and, individuaUy, we should be happier and better members of society : — " Never believe, much less propagate an ill report of a neighbour, without good evi-

dence of ita truth ; never listen to 6tt fft« y famous sto^ry handed to you by one yrb%UA inimical tip "the person defamed, or whojis f'f apt to defame his neighbour, sow discorrj, f and excite disturbance in society; never " speak evil of another while you are under the influence of envy and malevolence." - A TRAGEDY IN OLDEN TIME. ' -~"' ' ;J '■-* Somewhere towards the close of 1836 a tra- -;.. gedy occurred on this Island, which is still the theme of conversation '; around native v firesides, and ancient Maories will illustrate the tale by shewing traces of fearful wounds received in sanguinary conflict. Oh r a bright summer's day, the French whaling barque Jean Bart of Havre, put into Wiw-ir tangi Bay to procure a supply of vegetables and fresh provisions. She rode under jeasy ;.' /*. . sail, and, as usual on such pccasions^a^ bey of Maories of both sexes put off "ta the " A vessel and crowded her deck,' fraternizing A* most cordially with the strangers,: . Eventually, however, a quarrel enstfed between two of the boafc-steerers, caused by a strange; freak of jealousy. One of the Maori women .' ' especially attracted their attention, and to one of those.men the dusky charmer gave a most'flattering preference. "This so enraged the disappointed suitor, that he seized a whaling larice, and in another moment the poor girl lay at his feet a mangled corpse. Upon witnessing this most cruel murder, a Maori in the act of rushing down the com- : ; panion way to inform the captain, receiving a thrust from the same weapon, fell dead up,- , _■ on the cabin floor. This was the signal for a general onslaught, but the unfortunate Maoris, almost all unarmed, could make but little resistance opposed to thirty fierce .. Frenchmen wielding long and. sharp lances, and fearful was the massacre.: ; About- \ twenty-eight Maories, all young and stal- •„. wart men, were killed, and many desperate--Ily wounded. In this fearful emergency, however, Toenga, Matiora, and seven or eight as bold and determined as themselves, forced an entrance into the cabin, the doors of which were fastened, upon them and securely barricaded. From the skylight windows the Frenchmen thrust at them with , their lances, inflicting severe wounds. Ultimately, however, the Maories succeeded „ ■ in breaking open a locker containing arms and ammunition ; and now, being provided with deadly weapons, the .tide of battle, turned, and the rapid discharges of musketry so alarmed the Frenchmen that they launched their boats and abandoned the vessel to its fate. What became of them none ever knew ; doubtless, they perishe?*} . •\- --miserably, In the melee a lance was drawn ;.- through Toenga's hand, which rendered it ,:.:-. forever useless. From this circumstance .-■•■'. he derives the honorable 1 and euphorieous cognomen of " Motu mo tika,'' s the literal . meaning we presume to be, MHe sacrificed his fingers in a true cause." In the affray : only four Frenchmen lost their lives. The >{' Maories were nOw sole master. 'of a barque "■',= well stored with everything necessary, for a „ whaling voyage, but being ignorant of naviga- '" '■''.' tion they scarcely knew whatto do with the. A" capture. Nevertheless, they succeeded in taking her to various parte of the Island, but, becoming inflamed to madness through: intoxicating liquor, and quarrelling furiously about the division of the spoil, she was. - eventuaUy run ashore at Ocean Bay and burnt. '. /*--:: The sequel now remains to be told '••-. Shortly after this catastrophe, an American V. whaler, the Rebecca Sims, arrived at Waitangi, and the whole affair was made known. She was then on her way to the Bay of Islands, and at the, Bay fell in witha brig which had been fitted out by the Frenoh government at Otaheiti as a discovery ship;. To the commander, the American captain reported the melancholy tidings, and it was mutually arranged that the Rebecca Sims should accompany the discovery ship to the Island. Accordingly jthetwo .vessels, sooi* • ; made their appearance at Waitangi, and the Maories, unsuspicious as to her character or errand, and crowding on board, were received by armed sailors and marines, and detained as prisoners. /After 1 : tit^}';^^^ Frenchmen landed, but the inhabits^ ing disappeared, they contented themselves A by burning the pah and inflicting the ut- ■ •■: most, injury they 00u1d. ,. . At,. that, jfeejtfc y « white man resided on the Island, who yx_ -?.'■ derstood and spoke the Maori : language fluently. Availing himself of this man's . . services as Interpreter, the French comman- 3 ! der, after invesi^ating the "-Bal"?, informed the Maories that he had burnt their pah and taken their properly as payment for the Jean Bart; that his anger was now over ; - and he hoped they would be kind to all strangers. He then gave them food, made them a few presents, and sent them ashore. Thus ended this terrible affair ; but to this day the Chatham Island Maories have a in- . surmountable dread ofthe " Oui Oui."