Te Kooti.

New Zealand Mail, Issue 889, 15 March 1889, Page 11

Te Kooti.

- HOW HE ESCAPED FROM THE CHATHAM ISLANDS.

Tho story of how Te Kooti and his fellow prisoners escaped from the Chat ham Islands with the three-masted schooner Rifleman in 1868 is not a new one. Probably, however, the story as related by one of the crew of the Rifleman (which was a Government schooner) has never been published ; and the account appended, as given by one of them, will doubtless be particularly interesting. The narrator, John Martin, is probably the only survivor of the live men who manned the Rifleman on the day when Te Kooti and liis men pulled up to the schooner, armed to the teeth, and took possession of her. Martin lives in Evans Bay, where he carries on business as a waterman, and where excellent boats and the best attention can be obtained. Martin was interviewed by a New Zealand Times reporter on Saturday, and responded with alacrity to an invitation to give an account of Te Kooti’s voyage to Poverty Bay. The substance of his narrative was as follows : “ We went to the Islands with a cargo of stores—sugar, flour, spices, and other things—but the only thing we had landed was a plough the Natives took ashore, under a guard. About 2 o’clock in tho afternoon of the day after we got there two boats, with sixteen Maoris in each, came off to us, and as soon as they got alongside swarmed on the deck pretty quickly. They were armed, and they sent us all aft at once. There were five of us there —the mate, named Payne, and four seamen. Captain Christie, who was in command of the boat, had gone ashore, and it seems they collared him and tied him up on the island. Well, they left a guard over us, and went backward and forward with the whaleboats, until at last there were 203 of them—men, women, and children. Just as they had finished bringing them, the schooner Florence came in, and a couple of boatloads of Maoris went off to her and ordered all the menashore. When the skipperand crew had left her—and I tell you they went ashore as quick as they could —the Maoris made sail and ran the Florence on to the rocks, and tomahawked holes in her bottom. When they came back to the Rifleman we asked to be put ashore. “Oh yes,” they replied, “ by-and-bye.” Te Kooti then told the mate (through an interpreter named Baker, a half-caste, who married Te Kooti's sister) that he wanted to go to New Zealand, and we must take them. Of course, we had to obey. When we got underweigh there was a strong headwind, and Te Kooti said, “ Well, never mind, turn back. I’ve got all the powder and ammunition, and I don t care so long as we don’t meet a man-of-war.’ Next morning wo made a start, the skipper of the guards (who had been released by their wives, I suppose) standing on a hill looking at us. When we got outside the wind freshened almost to a gale. I was at the wheel when, about half-past 7, Baker came up to me and said, * Don’t be afraid, we’re going to throw a man overboard.’ ‘What! is he dead?’ I asked. ‘Dead, no! he’s alive.’ Baker then told me that some time before there had been a plan among the Maoris to take a French whaler and escape, but Te Kooti’s: aiher and two young men ‘ split,’ and Te Kooti and the other four chiefs were flogged. For that reason they were going to throw the old man overboard, and also because he was a Jonah. Then they brought him on deck, with his hands tied. He never said a word, and

over he went! When he got overboard he swam a little way although his hands were tied, but at last the poor old chap sank. Well, after that Te Kooti and the Maoris began praying and singing, and about two hours later on the gale died away. That was strange, wasn’t it ? They believed the praying did it. How did they treat us ? My word they treated •us fine. You know, there was a lot of beef on board and plenty of porter and beer. Te Kooti wouldn’t let the Maoris touch that beef ;it was for us. Baker was the cook, and we used to have our meals first. We had a bottle of porter each to our meals, and as much drink, in fact, as we liked The Maoris were not allowed a drop of drink, and Te Kooti himself didn’t take anything strong (they tell me he’s changed now). Of course the Maoris watched us very closely. They had regular guards on dock* armed to tiie teeth, and there was one old,fellow slept alongside the wheel with a six-chambered revolver in his belt. We didn’t have to do any work, for the IVlaoris could go aloft and do anything. There were five chiefs—Te Kooti and four others—who lived in the cabin and took their meals after us ; but Te Kooti was the boss of all, and whatever he said was law. We were five days on the voyage, and on the day we sighted New Zealand Te Kooti allowed the Maoris a bottle of porter to every three men. Baker said he would not give them more because he was afraid they would turn on us. They decided to land at a place where they had a pa, about six miles east of Gisborne. When we got there they started taking the cargo out and ashore, using five cano ss and a whaleboat. Next morning they left the schooner. Te Kooti was the last to go, and before he left he gave us L 6 a piece and told us we could have any of the stores we wanted. He wanted us to go ashore and live with him and he would give us any amount of land and money, and tell the white people lie had forced us to come with lxim. This we declined. Te Kooti said to the mate ‘ I suppose you are going to Port Nick (Wellington) now ? ’ The mate replied that he was not; that he was going to take the ship away and sell her at V alparaiso. ‘ That is a very goed idea,’ said Te Kooti. But of course when we got away we came to Wellington, the voyage taking us about eight days. “ What sort ot a man was Te Kooti ! “Oil,a pretty well-built man, about 40, I should think, and about sft 6in high ; but lie had a nasty way of looking down., He was very good to us, though, wasn t he ( Baker told me they took LIBOO away from the island in money. When we parted from them I said to Baker, ‘ I suppose you’re going to fight now ? Oh no,’ he replied, ‘but we want some of our land back.’ When we got to Wellington we found that people didn’t know Te Kooti had run away with the Rifleman ; and a man-of-war was out looking for a French whaler which it was supposed the Maoris were on.”

ON THE ISLANDS.

Another account of Te Kooti’s eacapo, told from the point of view of a resident oc the Island, will doubtless be read with equal interest. Our information is derived from an authentic source, and from a gentleman who was an eye-witness of the whole affair. The Hauhaus who were deported to the Chatham Islands, men women and children, numbered over 200, of whom Te Kooti was the recognised head and supreme authority. There was originally a guard of 24 (defence force) and Major Edwards, who reported to the Government on the condition of affairs there, strongly recommended not only that the guard should be increased, but also that the redoubt, which was covered by a slight rise at the back of it, should be built in a more advantageous position. This wise recommendation, however, was disregarded j and instead of being increased the guard was reduced to twelve (of whom there were two corporals and one sergeant). This was done upon the Lieutenant who had been in command informing the Government, when he resigned his commission, that the natives were satisfied with their condition, and that two or three A.C.’s could do all the work. Captain Thomas, the magistrate, was in charge ot the Island at this time, aud in addition to the A.C.’s there were only about a dozen white men living near the redoubt (of whom Mr Percy Smith, the present SurveyorGeneral was one.) The escape was attempted and successfully carried out at three o'olooli on the afternoon of the 4th July, 1868. At that hour there was a cry raised that ‘ the Hauhaus had taken the redoubt.' Captain Thomas at once ran out of his office and up to the redoubt, where he was seized, handcuffed, taken to the gaol, and looked up with several others. It appeared that the Moaris, who were free to go in and out the redoubt as they liked, had been working that day getting the Rifleman’s cargo ashore, and as it came on to rain they pretended to get into the redoubt for shelter. It was payday, and the constabulary men sat on their bunks making up accounts taking no notice of the Maoris, All on a sudden, at a given signal each man found that he had a Hauhau on each side of him, provided with strings of flax to tie him hand and foot. In a trice the men were bound in this way and flung on to their bunks. One man—a private —was killed, for what reason we could not find out and one of the chief*, Mason by name, upon hearing of this, asked for the man who killed Hartnett. One of the Maoris stood out, and Mason at once knocked him down with a terrific blow between the eyes. ‘ I thought I told you no one was to be kill!' he said angrily. The plan of escape had been ingeniously devised, and wa3 carried out with remarkable regularity. As soon as the redoubt was seized, Te Kooti gave a signal, (in response to which the Hau-

liaus filed out of their whares m good order with a wags on their backs and inarched down to tho boats, after which (as it is described in the article below) they proceeded to board and take the Rifleman Meanwhile a number of them went through the little settlement demanding money and blankets everywhere. Necessarily womenand children were in some of the houses, quite unprotected, but not a hand was lifted against them, aud when the men who had been tied got free they were as pleased as they were surprised to liud that no harm had been done to their children and wives. The only man who might have fared badly, had the Maories met him was the sergeant, against whom they had a good deal of bad feeling. He, however, happened to be m his house when the redoubt was taken, and at once ran off into the bush. One of the oorporals also got off in that way, (though he was fired at) and so did a native who had given information to the corporal of a previous plan of escape. , When the Rifleman was seized, Mr Hood, (who was trading with the Rifleman) and Mr Ctmdleigh (a resident) were, on the beach, and they made an effort to get on to the schooner, bnt were at once seized by the Natives and bound. One of the Maoris attempted to pass a rope round Chudleigh s neck and in order to avoid being strangled Chudleigh put his fingers into his mouth and kept them there in spite of his captors. iVhen he tools hia fingers out he found that he had bitten them to the bone. Meanwhile the Rifleman had been captured, and as the Florence was lying in Waitangi harbour they ran her on to the beach and started a fire in her. Fortunately the fire would not take. As may easily be imagined, the inhabitants of the Island passed a miserable night when the Maoris had got on board tho l.ifleman and stood off. They went up to a house on the hill" for greater safety, aud in the morning, so limited was the accommodation that they had to wash their faces in a frying pan ! . Tho statement that the Maories took away £IBOO is not correct. They went to the office and tried in vain t > break open the safe. Then they went to Captain Thomas and compelled him to open tho safe, so that they could take the money that was in it—not half the sum named. In tone of the accomodation houses they were foiled by the shrewdness of a servant, who put nearly ail the money in the place into a teakettle. . Te Kooli is mentioned in the Rev. Mr Bullor’s book as a common man who achieved dignity on the Chatham Islands by comDOsing a karakia (native chant or prajTer). That is not so. When the Hauhaus first came to the Island he was recognised as their chief, to whom all others were subservient. There is no doubt he devised tho plan by which the escape was managed and well managed, too, for the Rifleman, with all the natives on board, was under weigh an hour after the redoubt was first taken. Captain Thomas, having had reason to suspect Te Kooti had; asfaras hia resourcss enabled him, confined him in prison, but the facilities for doing so were, of course, exceed! ingly small. In tine weather Te Kooti made it a custom to sit on the hill just outside his hut. There he sat, always silent and gloomy, brooding over his grievances, and not caring to speak to anyone— a * dour ohiel ’as the Scotch would say. He never appeared to exercise his authority much, but the Maoris came to see him regularly, and they used frequently to say 1 By-and-bye we go to New Zealand. Te Kooti take U 3 there all the same as the Lord took the Israelites over the Red Sea.’ These protestations, however, were taken no notice of by the people on the Island. Looking back on the affair over the years that have gone by, we cannot come to any other conclusion than that it was an exceedingly good thing that no resistance was made to the Maories, for the result must have been the destruction of all the Europeans on the Island. To-day the Chatham Islands carry a pretty large population of Whites and Maories, in addition to the Moiiori (of whom we shall probably havo something to say next week). They have been the scene of no sanguinary massacre and no desperate encounter between the European hungry for land, and the aborigi* nal guided by his savage instincts the horrible traditions of a cannibal race. Such a condition of things is much better to one in which a few men and women would have been mercilessly slaughtered by men who, if allowed their will (which could not have been successfully opposed) apparently wished to preserve life if possible.