“PASSING MAORI MEMORIES”

Manawatu Standard, Volume LIV, Issue 295, 10 November 1934, Page 2

“PASSING MAORI MEMORIES”

(Recorded by J.H.S. for “The Manawatu Evening Standard.”)

Inhumanity The Educator

We should never forget the awful ordeal of training by antithesis through which the Rev. Samuel Marsden and his wife had to pass in order to lit them for their, noble work among the Maori people. In 1794 they sailed in a convict ship for Sydney. There, and even before arrival, their righteous souls were vexed, not so much by the depravity of the pitiable convicts, as by the brutality and unfaithfulness of the Government officials whose conduct was more reprehensible than that of their victims. The first thirteen of the twenty years spent in Sydney was the darkest period of the dark history of New South Wales. Military officers were the principal traffickers in male and female convicts. Rum was practically the medium of exchange, “pegged” at a rate even higher than our much reviled 25 per cent. By its use they were able to keep'the victims of their own appetites in hopeless degradation. Commissioned officers took first pick of female convicts on arrival, followed by lower ranks, privates, and even by artful male convicts. The victims had no voice in their destiny. They were often employed as rum sellers and decoys, completing an education in crime, far surpassing anything imposed upon them by poverty and ignorance in their youth. Against all this, Marsden and his wife made firm and noble stand, incurring at first the usual penalties, and ultimately the inevitable reward. Painful though it must have been, it was a good preparation for the great work which lay before him. Born a good Wesleyan, and assisted by an even better Episcopal Wilberforce, he had no sectarian prejudices. It was a painful, but excellent preparation for his New Zealand attainment, the very difficulty of which seems to have been its chief attractions to him and hies noble mate.

“Give us this day our daily work.”

Not even twenty years as a .chaplain amid the horror and injustice ot the New South Wales penal settlement could make a misanthrope of a man like Marsden. In 1806 Te Pahi (“The Sad One”), a Bay of Islands Chief, and his four sons, were the guests of the Governor of N.S.W. for three months. From them, Marsden, the Governor’s Chaplain, learned to know the Maori better than any living European. In that intimate relationship he also found Te Pahi to be “a worthy and respectable Chief in every sense of the word.” Thus Marsden began his great work, through these five Maoris, of carrying the message of peace and goodwill to their fellows. “Practical Christianity,” and the total absence of theory and theology were the outstanding features of Marsden’s teachings. From the Maori view point even today, “practice prevails where preaching fails.” In his first report to the Church Missionary Society in England Marsden wrote “Nothing on earch. can pave the way for the Gospel but civilisation, and for that, nothing but through the arts. I recommend that three mechanics be appointed to make the first attempt—a carpenter, a blacksmith, and a twine spinner. No progress can be made without first teaching industry and morality. A missionary should be naturally industrious. An industrious man can surmount difficulties which, would overwhelm an idle one. In all my observations I have never known an industrious man to become idle, or an idle one by nature industrious.” Pie also urged that Missionaries must take little clothing and no valuables, and that all they had, and they personally should place themselves in the hands of a Chief. “It would be proper for them to take from Sydney _ or Norfolk Island hogs, poultry, grain, and flour, which would be acceptable to the Chief.” These practical ideas were the secrets of Marsden’s outstanding understanding with the Maori people, who look for, and readily grasp, the signficance of results. Theories are beyond their comprehension.

Massacre of The Boyd

A sad tale awaited the arrival in Sydney of Marsden and his faithful Maori ally, Ruatara, on their return from England in 1809. A ship’s crew had been murdered at Whangaroa near Ruatara’s home in New Zealand, the ship being plundered and burned. Feeling ran so nigh in Sydney that it was unsafe for a Maori to be seen in the street, and Ruatara sought refuge in Marsden’s home for Maoris at Paramatta for six months. Under convict settlement law, Governor King refused to permit Marsden to leave New South Wales, declaring that he “could not allow his Chief Chaplain to sacrifice his valuable life in teaching cannibals.” It was years before the tragic story was fully recorded. The master of the Boyd going to New Zealand for timber, engaged a Chief named Tara and several other Maoris in Sydney. Tara became too ill to work, and on two occasions Captain Thompson tied him to a gangway and flogged him. Tara appeared to forget the grave insult, and guided the ship to Whangaroa. There he showed the stripes on his bruised body. The captain and several sailors came ashore, and were killed as Utu (recompense) for the Mana (power, influence, authority) of the Chief and the tribe. Then, dressing themselves in the clothes of the murdered men, the Maoris, thus disguised, got on board in darkness, and massacred all but a woman and three children. Sixty-six Europeans were thus slain. Te Pahi was wrongly blamed for taking part but as a matter of fact he was killed by his fellows because he bad brought five sailors ashore and tried to save their lives. While living with Governor King in Sydney. Te Pahi had procured the issue of a proclamation warning every shipmaster against so ill-treating Maoris in their employ. Even when the awful massacre of the Boyd was fresh in their minds, a thousand men in authority who knew the Maoris and the circumstances, considered that the ignorant and brutal Captain Thompson had met the fate he deserved. Well might Marsden write to England of the event, “The Maoris are a much injured people notwithstanding all that has been advanced against them.”