TAWHIAO ABROAD

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXI, Issue 21912, 22 September 1934, Page 1 (Supplement)

TAWHIAO ABROAD

FIFTY YEARS AGO

BY A.A.G.

The portrait which appears on the currency notes of the Reserve Bank of New Zealand is that of the late Maori "king" Tawhiao. I am able to say that it is not a very good portrait, for I knew the deceased "monarch" (as the following narrative will show) sufficiently well to be.able to pass judgment on this widely-circulated representation of his physiognomy. There is a muqh better likeness of him on the Bank of New Zealand five-pound note, which perfectly represents his features, even to the unmistakable squint which affected his eyes and the somewhat grim expression of his tattooed face. In the early 'eighties of the last century, when I was about fifteen years old I was living with my mother and sisters in a small country town not many miles from London, when one day a letter was received from ti Captain Scudamore, interpreter to : 'king" Tawhiao, who was visiting England, to say that the dusky "monarch" would liko to pay us a visit, a request to which my mother replied affirmatively, and a few days afterwards there appeared on the scene "king" Tawhiao, his attendant chiefs, Patara and Major Te Wheoro, and the interpi-eter, a bluff sea-captain who spoke Maori fluently and English of a character which was often met in those days in seafaring men—Expressive, idiomatic and free. I met them at the railway station, and conducted them on foot through th<S town, much to the interest of .the people in the streets, who had never seen tattooed Maoris before —To Wheoro. a handsome, well-built man, was not tattooed -—and, as Scudamore said, "Ain't it a pity we're not in a circus? We'd bo the biggest 'draw' in the show."_ In the afternoon wo sat long in the dining room, while my mother, who was an excellent Maori scholar, talked to the "king," who spoke no English. Neither did Patara. Te Wheoro spoke quite good English and interpreted to me, sotto voce, much of the interesting conversation, which was mostly of New Zealand and of the occasion when my mother and the "king" had met here. The Royal Ailment Tawhiao did not immediately explain the cause of his visit, but gradually it was divulged that he was not well and had come into the country to get away from London, where he had left one of his attendant chiefs. We already knew that he was in England for the purpose of seeing the British Government, whom he desired to intervene in relation to some grievance connected with land. The Secretary of State for the Colonies (there were no Dominions in those days) was a hard man, and would not givo the disappointed "monarch" much encouragement, as he said that it was a matter within the jurisdiction, of the New Zealand Government. So Tawhiao said he was asking to see Queen Victoria, a proposal in relation to which my mother offered no opinion, though she knew full well that the " king " was doomed to disappointment, as the British Government did not welcome his presence in England. It now transpired that the real reason of Tawhiao's visit to our village was that he wished to attend to a personal matter of great importance. As has been said, he was not well. He was pouri. He believed that he had symptoms of ngerengere (Maori leprosy), the first sign of which was the falling-out of the hairs of his eyebrows, and he wanted to wash in the pure water of a running stream, and there repeat his magic karakia and perform the mystic ceremonies which would ward off the dread disease. So I was despatched with Patara to find a suitable place wherd the "king" might perform his ablutions in privacy and repeat his incantations unheard. Opposite our house there was a broad field, beyond which flowed the river Colne, and here I took Patara that day. He thrust his walking-stick into the soft mud of the river bed and expressed disapproval. He wanted a clear, pebble-bottomed stream whoso water was visibly pure. I was almost at my wit's end, till I thought of a place where the river had been gravelled for the purpose of making a ford, and that proved quite satisfactory.

The " king " then said he wanted to go into the town to make a purchase, and I conducted him and his entourage to the shop of a haberdasher named lbbotson, where the " king " bought a thick, white, woollen singlet which he carried back to the house m silence, the rest of us trooping behind and a small crowd of interested children following us. Te Wheoro's Philosophy I do not recollect much concerning tho evening meal or how we spent tho early hours of tho night, except the stygian gloom which tho " king's " ngerengero cast over the meeting. At last, when it was past midnight, Patara, with a copious flow of Maori, addressed the "king" and told him the time had como for "his majdsty" to go forth and perform the rites which were to euro his sickness. Tawhiao went to fetch his overcoat and his new singlet, and with Patara sallied forth into the darkness with, I thought, some misgiving and no little apprehension, for no pure-blooded Maori of that day liked the night, especially in a land where it was doubtful if his protecting dieties held sway. Te Wheoro explained to me his philosophy as we sat and waited for the " king's" return. It was that Tawhiao was making a mistake. In the white man's country the whito man's dietv was necessarily supreme. But the " king " was seeking to propitiate his Maori gods, who were so far off that it was doubtful if they could hear him. Moreover, if tho old man really had ngerengere, the most skilful doctors in the world were in London and if a cure could bo made they were tho men to make it.

But then tlie Major was an enlightened man who had fought on tho Queen's side in the Maori wars, and had seen what the army surgdons could do for a sick or wounded man. "No, Te Wheoro," said Scudamore v who had waked up, "you're wrong. If tho 'king' has got ngerengere, which I much doubt, ho has got a Maori disease, and lie is quite right to apply the Maori cure. If his visit to tho river is a success and he's not overlooked or disturbed while he's in the water. I'll bet you a pound to an orango we'll hear no more of his ngereng«3ro " A Changed Man

I suppose it was two in the morning when I let in tho "king" and Patara by the front door. When I asked if everything had gone well Tawbiao remained silent. Scudamore said the "king" wanted to go to bed and I led "his majesty" to his sleeping-quarters, where I left him.

Next morning when the "king" came down to breakfast he was a different man. His conversation was animated. He laughed. He expressed his pleasure at having come down to our humble village, where he felt that in the multitude of unsympathetic English people he had found those who understood the Maori. Then he went back to London, radiant, and indifferent as to what the Colonial Secretary might or might not do, and forgetful of tha affront which he had received in not having been received on equal terms by Queen Victoria. And was he cured ? Certainly, .for he lived quite a long time after that, as his portrait plainly shows.