WRECK OF THE LORD WORSLEY.

Wellington Independent, Volume XVII, Issue 1766, 13 September 1862, Page 3

WRECK OF THE LORD WORSLEY.

In our last issue we published an account of the wreck uf this vessel, compiled from the rations files, which came to hand. The follow ing graphic narrative of Captain Vine Hall, who was a passenger on board of the ill-lated steamer, and which he 1 a* kindly placed at our disposal, will furnish our readers with a more connected narrative of this unfortunate occurTdhce. The Lord Worsley left Nelson at 1, p.m., Aug. 31, for Sydney, via Taranaki and the Manukau, with about 40 passengers, numbering on board altogether, with the crew, between 60 and 70 persons. With a fair wind, we mule rapid progress up to 1 o'clock next morning, when I was awoke by a movement on deck, anu the cries, in rapid succession, of "Land right j ahead " '" Hard a starboard," Stop the engines," "Full speed astern.' I was out of my berth in a moment, just as she began striking, and, through the darkness, I could see we were amid the breakers, which thundered all round us. One sea alter another struck and lifted u> further in upon the rocks, aided by the wind, then nearly aft. In a few minutes it was evident that the ship was fixed in her rock bed, and that although the sea frequently lifted her abaft, causing each time a severe concussion, yet I was convinced we were within the outer wall of breakers, and it occurred to me that if ii was near high water we might yet be able to get on shore. At my request, the captain referred to the directions, and found that it was just about the top of high water. Welcome information. The inference from which wa*. that being inside the outer reefs, the water would get smoother around the ship as the tide fell. We could now see the laud high ami frowning at no great distance, detached rocks, ! &c. Meanwhile, the captain ordered the boats to be prepared for lowering, rafts made of the i loose planks on deck, and I went to leii the ladies of our disaster, how we were situated &c, i requesting them to get up. I begged them to be as collected as possible, for I trusted we should be able to land them at daylight. I then told the Stewart to have some breakfast ready by four or five o'clock, of which subsequent!}, 1 urged all. to make a good ineaJ, as there might be full demand made upon the strength, physical and mental, of everyone, besides a long interval, perhaps to the nexi repast. We ftared the ship slewing broadside on, but she remained at last head to the beach Dreary hours those from one a.m. till the first glimmer of dawn, about 5.30 ; for, the necessary preparations being over, there was no variation in the long interval but the thum, ing— an occasional shower— -or an extra puff of wind,

n and, at quieter moments, the roar of the sea crashing on the reefs astern. Everyone behaved li wilh admirable self-posessiun in this terrific . scene— so suddenly enteied upon — but we could, s not help remembering, even if we reached the c shore safely, that the relations of the English I y wfth the natives of these parts was not of the | I most satisfactory nature, aud that after effecting r a landing, theie were most probably other trials b in store for vs. i It may easily be imagined with what anxious curiosity, as the time of daylight approached. - we peered into the darkness, tryiujj to make out ) our distance from the beach, ai.d the nature of ; it. At leugth objects became more and more f visible — seaward, huge rollers kept up a continuous roar ; near us were detached and sunken rocks; then the black boulder beach, at the ; back of which the land rose up nearly perpendicular about 100 to 150 feet high. Desolate prospect! However, now was the time for action, so when daylight was fully come, after caie fully watching for the best probable passage for a boat, the captain directed one to be carefully lowered, and a rope carried on shore for effecting the passage more easily. Then the ladies were landed in two trips, aud I could help pitying them as I watched them, after making their way with difficulty over the rough billows, sit clown a melancholy group at the base of the step cliffs. Then the other passengers were landed, together with baggage, provisions, and the mails. Whilst this was going on, 1 had a few hands under my directions preparing materials for making tents, but whilst so engaged, a message was brought to me by a passenger that some empty houses had been discovered on shore. I then requested him to be good enough to conduct the ladies to them and I would follow. Discontinuing our preparating for tents, we completed landing the provisions, Sec, by which time (10 a.m.) as the tide was again rising, the sea increased so much as to render the ijemmtiuication with the shore difficult ; so hauling up one boat which was stove, the captain and last or the ciew landed, and hauled the boat up on the beach — no easy operation. Up to this time I had watched with no small anxiety for the appearance of natives, but tl Ougb I frequently and carefully scanned the outline of the high and against the sky, yet no dark figures could 1 as yet detect amid the fringe of flux bushes. I took a chart on shore to ascertaiu our exact position, by reference to Mount Egtnont as soon as it should be visible. Whilst doing so, 1 heard that two natives had been seen, Well, 1 was glad to be quit of the suspense, and know what was to be our probable experience here. Soon afierwards I reached the pah or little group of houses, at the entrance of which I found the ladies sitting tolerably tranquil, and learned that two chiefs had been there — that they fully comprehended our sad position, and signed to the ladies to make use of that house, and offered two others. Happily there were two gentlemen ou board who spoke niaori very well, and we learned that we were in the district of VViremu Kingi (William King) of Matakatea, supposed to be friendly than otherwise to the English, whilst on the other sides were tribes mosthostile. Here, amidst our other misfortunes, we hau cause for thankfulness; not only that we escaped destruction on the outer leef, but we were comparatively safe with these neutial natives. Communication with the ship being now suspended, and having virtually thrown ourselves on the protection of the chiefs, who assured us we should not be molested whilst we remained there, we next thought of esfctb'isbing ourselves — getting the provisions, baggage and mails up to our new residence which was on the table land cummencing at the cliff, about half a mile from the ship. Towords night we had most of our effects up at our encampment, and a good store of provisions, and most of us, wearied out with anxiety and exertion wei t sound to sleep after our first day of luaori life had closed, dismissing care till the morrow. Many natives arrived during the afternoon, and with women and children seemed to have abandoned their homes on our appearance in the moriiing, and were now returning. They all exhibited a friendly disposition. Captain Butler and Mr. Robert Graham, our fellow passengers (who both speak munri and were wrecked in the White Swan.) tried to ascertain from the chief Wiremu King as to whose protection we were under, and what chance there was of our getting to Taranaki (50 miles distance). The reply was vague; the neighbouring chiefs mast be consulted; so pondering over this doubtful issue, and in considerir g the best way of getting a messenger to Tarau iki, we closed our first day. Tuesday, Sept, 2. — After our night's rest we found ourselves quite settled down to our new and rough mode of life, and erery one seemed loler; bly content ; the ladies bearing up famously against inconveniences which were more trying to them than to us. But I was exceedingly -inxious to see our way clear for proceeding to Taranaki, and tl c Captain, myself, and our two interpreters went with Wiremu Kingi, ami another chief nauieu Adam Clarke, alias Arnms Krukii, on board to shew them the ship, and discuss seriously our prospects — a deal of talk but unsatisfactory. They appeared to doubt the feeling towards -us of the King natives through whose territory we must pass on our way to Taranaki. They said they would send a messenger to the chief of these natives, and one to Taranaki, if possible. As I doubted the latter, I desired Cuptaio Bowden to remain on board with six of the crew, to have a boat ready ano watch for an opportunity, when the breakers were safe to pass through, and the weather was favourable, to start fin* Taranaki, and make sure that our position was kuown. The surf, howei » , was so bud that I had but little hope of my scheme being carried out. The ship remains, as at first, quite upwright, head N.E. and, to all appearance, uninjured, though we know she has several boles in her bottom, and the tide flows in and out. She might remain so f< r years. We return on shore aud our second day ends without event, save further arrival of maories and a parly of Kingi's with the chief Erewiti ; ol course more discussions. At night, as I raa.de my rounds, I heard fiom the various huts the song, fiddle., flutiug, and merriment i.) all— as if lhey had quite taken up their abode in thi> wild place. But there was no merriment for my excellent friends and interpreters — Mr. It Graham, Captaiu Butler— or myself. We were frequently in counsel, and frit it was not desirable to let all om opinions or plans transpire ; nor could we dissemble from each other that difficulties might at any moment arise beyond our power to surmount. Wednesday, Sept 3 — Up soon after daylight Wind bad shifted to S.E , with drizzling rain. Went with Graham and Butler to the cliff over-looking ti;e ship, to see if a boat might have made a stait in the Might; surf or shore too great for a boat to land safely. . Observed Capt Bowden and his meu on the move, and soon after a boat cameon shore; a man jumped out, and fetched something which looked like the boat's sail, and they returned on board— we to our camp, somewhat dispirited at the pooi prospect of the boat's getting away to Taraiuiki. We had now an opportunity, of seeing how tbe reefs lay, and bow it was that the ship had not been knocked to pieces at tbe

first blow. Just astern of her was a comparatively smooth place, by which she must have come into her present position, when she became protected in a measure by the very reefs which might have proved our destruction. A discussion this morning about the rent of the houses we are occupying ; an exorbitant demand being made we think of returning on hoard the first opportunity tbe ship remains fixed. Day damp and gloomy. News arrives that the boat started from the ship about half an hour after we were at the cliff. God speed tbee, little boat ! much depends on thy safe arrival at Taranaki. However, this at once produced a favourable turn in our diplomacy ; it shews that the road by sea is open, and W. i^ing says now the darkness about our movements is gone from his mind. The King chief settles the amount of toll to be paid on passing through his district ; drays aud oxen to take our things make their appearance, and our camp assumes (taking inventory, and searching foi guns, &c, accession of natives, cries of welcome, &c) quite a bustling business aspect. Agreements are made in writing for each dray and horse £5 for the former and £4 for tbe latter, and all seems fair for our departure tomorrow. The clouds aud rain are passed away and Mount Egmont towaids evening again shows out exquisitively agaiust the clear sky — a picture emblematic we hope, that our difficulties and doubts are to be tucceeded by sun. shine. A messenger arrives iv Taranaki with a letter from the Superintendent, saying that every effort is being made to get us up to town and that bont3 would come down with Mr. Parris. So all bids fair, but it may change at any moment. A bullock is killed, and part set to us. About Bin the evening I stroll round the camp and hear singing and music, aud all joyful. 9 p.m. — I had just laio down for the night, somewhat hopeful, when Graham came and called me, requesting me to have the lights put out — to stop the music in tbe huts — for there were angry discussions going on among the natives, and one of the chiefs had even suggested thatit would be better to avoid all cause of excitement ; so I went round accordingly and stopped the merriment, and sent those natives who bad •been enjoying our peoples' fun to their own quarters ; we then went to the ladies' tent, but we hadn't the heart to stop the fiddle which excellently played, was affording them a little pleasure — s< listening a few minutes, we moved awtiy to our respective quarters. Close to mine is the locale of their discussions aud the* war dance. Their loud talking and fierce cries continue till midnight, when there is quiet. At last nothing is heard but the thunder of the surf, which assists tny fatigue in lulling me to sleep. September 4.— At daylight I wake, and healing that the breakers are less violent, I get up, and seeking Graham, go dowu to the cliff hoping that the weather is better and that we may soon see the boats from Taranaki- Alas! nothing is visib'e seaward ! the surf again increases and our hopes diminish in proportion. Clusters (or groups) of nitives collect on the beach, and on tbe cliffs, looking at the ship as if anxious to plunder it and look like vultures waiting for their prey. We find on return to theencampmentthat thereis still some bar to our departure. Mr. Graham went on board with the chiefs to arrange about payment of rent wilh some of the moveables in tbe ship, as we thought it impolitic to show we had any gold (indeed we are in great perplexity lest they discover the 300U ozs. now on board). On the way to the beach sundry kegs are picked up which the natives take to have had powder in — they in reality contained small shut, which, to prevent falling into the hands of the natives I had been emptied and" thrown overboard in the j night. They are furious at this loss of part of their prize. On going on board too, they cooly say that it is nonsense offering anything in the ship as payment, for it is all theirs. Then they ransack the ship for firearms, and discover bid under the coals a rifle, belonging to one of the passengers and a revolver belonging to the captain— great excitement. They break open the specie room with much labor, but nothing was in it. They want to do so with the safe where tbe gold is, but Mr. Graham tells them that Captain Bowdeu has possession of the key, and they promise they will be satisfied with seeing the inside when he comes, pretending they only want the guns and powder, according to the law of the King. They continue their work of ransacking long after dark saying that when rtey have satisfied themselves that no gnns nor powder are secreted on board, we may go. In the roof they manage to laud our signal gun, a six pouuder, which they drag up to the village with the most furious cries of triumphant gesticulations. Our prospects aie now less favorable. A messenger arrives from town with a letter delivered to me with the utmost secresy, saying that Mr. Parris, the Secretary for Native affairs and Colonel Wane were at the gate, but were not allowed to come on ! Notwithstanding this day's excitement and fresh runangas or councils of the chiefs, night closes in more quietly than I had expected and although, from having been wet almost ever since the ship struck, I have been very ill a'l day I soon fell asleep, aud forgot all about our troubles. September 5. — Yesterday evening it was arranged that we might go to-day; but at 4 a.m. I was awoke by hearing Mr. Graham knock at the door, and ask for warm water. I was sure this was only a pretixt to speik tome privately, is there were five or six in the same hut with me. And sure enough, coming close to me he whispered — " We are all going to be made pri soners, and marched inland to a place of confinement." This was the climax to all the tips aud downs in our diplomatic relations 'with the Maories — so many indeed have we had of them, though known to few but Graham, Butler and self, that they are like the varying pictures of the kaleidt s cope. The natives say we hare deceived them, and iv fact seem as if they wanted to pick a quarrel with us— or, as if in doubt whether they will gain more or less by treating us welt or ill. In an hour or so I got up, and consulted with Graham and Butler as to what is the best to be done. They gut again to talk with the chief and know the worst Meanwhile it oozes out that we are to be detained— the men belonging to the drays have evidently no permission to get them ready — and groups of the passengers and our men gather together talking and looking anxiously towards the place where the runanga or council is being held. Violent speeches are being made, aud our fate seems doubtful ; one man, who fur some hours had been disclaiming agaiust us, became so excited that Wiremu King seizes him, and a scuffle ensues creating great commotion. At last he is secured and taken away. At 730 the Kiug chief, Erewitti, is speaking, evidently with force and moderation, — the tide of feeling turns in our favor — it is decided we may go - the bullock-drivers yoke up, and in half an hour more we ate actually loading tbe drays with our luggage ! Oh, what a relief. Many a disaffected eye scowls upon us, but the mnjurity is in our favour, aud we make our preparations for departure without molestation. I was now most anxious that no

delay should occur, lest some new complication might arise. The ladies (in two bullock drays) with an escort of gentlemen, started first — then drays with baggage, and 20 or 30 pedestrians. Mr. R. Graham and I remained till we saw every one fairly off, when with some difficulty we hired another cart and loaded it with the mails, this being done we started off; we bid adieu to the chiefs Wiremu Kingi and Arama Karaka, rode down to our old lookout on the cliff", for a last gaze at the ship, and then going through the bush, we soon came upon the track and ere long rejoined our friends. Our only regret now was leaving tbe gold on board ; yet we could not do otherwise, and we had been too closely watched the last three days to get it secreted. Even had we done so, we should uever have been able to recover it. I may as well here mention that we had not proceeded many miles before a native cams up and informed us that the safe (or iron chest) on board, had, notwithstanding the chiefs word, been broken open immediately after we left, and the gold abstracted. Upon this, with scarce a minutes hesitation, Mr. It. Graham determined to ride back and endeavor to secure it. This he eventually did, actually shaming Wiremu Kingi into relinquishing it ; but, being unable to cany the whole of it, he deposited part in the bush and brought iv the remainder. We were free ; but it soon became evident that there difficulties of travel to encounter, and some of no common order. Our way at times led through thickets of flax plants, wilh generally a tolerable road, except where perhaps for some distance it wus under water ; then alas for the poor pedestrians — frequent streams cut deep into tbe roaJ, with banks so steep that it seemed impossible for any vehicle safely to descend or be capable of getting up the opposite side; boulders, too, in the bed of the stream, augmented the difficulties, and the wonder to me was that the carts were not demolished in the first five miles. The pole of the sailor's dray broke soon after leaving, but with characteristic ingenuity they soon spliced it, and when the driver wanted to put in a new one at the first stopping place, they one and all repudiated the idea, maintaining that their mended one was the stronger. Tbe bullocks were the finest 1 ever saw, and their strength and endurance' were wonderful ; and yet it was marvellous how they got the drays over the difficulties of the road. I saw one bank of a stream, on which the stones formed steps, one set of which was upwards of a foot perpendicular up which of course the wheels of the loaded dray had to be dragged by sheer force. At one time we emerged upon the beach toiling along the weary sandy way ; these weie the few intervals in the pitiless, rugged boulder beach which mostly obtained ; then we turned inland again among the endless flax thickets eight to ten feet high, inteispersed with the elegan toi-toi grass, there beiug no trees. Occasionally the road was for a considerable distance nothing but deep black mire, through which it was bad enough for the drays and horses to make their way, but pitiful for those on foot trudging painfully along. Late in the afternoon we again came upon a long desolate sandy beach, the neighbouring land the very picture of barrenness. It now became gloomy and overcast, the drizzling rain and the spray from the eternal breakers, blown landward by a fresh breeze, dienched us through ; the bullocks of our two drays began to flag, and seemed unable to do much more, and our position was dreary. Two ladies were seated on the baggage in one dray, to whom a passenger and I acted as escort; we were far behind the rest of our cavalcade, indeed out of sight, and it looked very much as if we should have to bivouac in that desolate waste. However, after a halt, tbe drivers, With vigorous shouts and a liberal application of their whips by way of encouragement, urged the bullocks forward again. Leaving tbe beach, we had again to plunge into the bush, for a few miles, by which time it was quite dark. At length, the glimmering of lights ahead cheered us up, as we gathered from the drivers that they were at the place of our halt for the night. Another stream to cross, and then dragging slowly up the opposite bank, we found ourselves among our companions, and at the Maori pah of Kapoaia huts with fires lighted were allotted to us, and glad enough were we to rest from our first day's work, and .to fee! that we had got so far towards Taranaki, and away from the scene of our shipwreck. We were now in the king's country, and very civilly treated by the people. We had not been long in our whare before baskets of hot potatoes were placed before us, with which, and what few provisions of our own could be mustered, we made our evening meal. Then, side by 'side, ; wrapped iv coats and rugs, we lay down for our night's rest, the ever-sounding sea breaking on the beach not many yards from our rude quarters, perhaps assisting our slumbers. September 6.— The gloomy evening made us apprehensive of the morroV. The natives dfc'arsd it would rah, and the rivers wonld not te tordable, nor the roads passable, if it did, and we feared to be detained lest we might get into trouble. Indeed, we determined to go on, rain or shine to try it, whatever the weather min-ht be. However, a bright morning;, with bu? a few passing clouds, dispelled all such fears aud prognostications, and after a not very luxurious breakfast, and paying our night's rent (£b) we prepared again to start We were then desired to assemble, and being arranged in line, we were ounted, and our exact numbers ascertained, to arrive at the amount of toll to be paid, gra. ciously reduced from £10, I believe, to ss. as we were " sick persons " — not ordinary travellers. nd were " cast up by the sea.' There were to Ilables set up at the road side—this place being called the gate. The British lion we felt was far from being in the asceudaut this morning A boat we espied in the offi.ig going southward attracted our atteution, and gave rise to many speculations — we felt sure it was going (o the wreck, and wished we could have signalled to her that we were on our way. About 8 our caravan again commenced defiling xQ.g the narrow bush road ; but the bullocks belonging to two drays could not be found— they were off in the jungle feeding, and two valuable hours Were thus lost before they were recovered — when i again found myself bringing up the rear, with only one companion and two of our wumen folk (not the same as yesterday) occupants of one ol ihe drays. Dances and songs by the women, tho' neither elegant nor melodious iv themselves, nor <et off by ony beauty in tbe performers, honoured our departure. 1 thought the group of females sitting watching our departure about the most >qualid, dirty, ugly set I ever saw. Our road was as yesterday mostly near the beach, which was composed of little variety, of black boulders strewn with drift wood. Mount Egiuont is on our right, aud ahead are the hills at the foot of which we knew Taranaki lies. How we watched hour after hour during our weary way tbe gradually increasing detailsof those hills,making them out more and more distinctly as wt advanced forming thus a scale of our progiess. At 12 30. we reached " Warroa " near which is the scene of the distrous skirmishes with the natives by which we formerly lost men and prestige. Here we baited a abort time and

dined, as thus, a friendly native handed ns about four p Ha toes, our second course some pieces of biscuit, which having e.-ilen, we again proceeded. At 2 we entered again upon another long des<>r>tp beach of black sand, through which onr I ullo-ls. main fid nt as t'^ey are, make but slow p ogiess. It is a scene of aiid desolation. As soon as the boulders reappear we edge inland again amid the flax and grasses, crossing 1 , as before, many streams, the banks of which are very steep, and to ordinary vehicles irnpraclica ble. At 3 we cross the beautiful Kahihi river, when we met our indefatigable friend Graham, who had turned back to see what had become of us and aid us in passing the " King's Gate," or barrier between the Taranaki settlement and the Kings country. The Sugar Loaves of New Plymouth are now in sight — we are nearly abreast of the hills we have so long watched--and at 4*15 we pass the, gate, with its long list of tolls and fines up to £500, and enter upon the district of Taranaki, some twelves miles from the town. Here another frightful bit of road, then cross a stream, and arrive at Hauranga, a little beyond which we hear a boat is waiting to take us up to Taranaki town, and save us the fatigue of the road. Here we meet the worthy Superintendent, Mr. Brown, Mr. Parris, inter, preter and some others alike interested in our welfare. After a short halt we start along the beach towards the boat, which laden with the poor fellows who had trudged two days over such fearful ground, .start with us soon after dark soon daik. The kind forethought of our Taranaki (rieuds had well supplied the boat with provi. sious which were most acceptable, und a medical gentleman, Mr. McShane, had even been so good as to come down in her, in case there were any amongst us requiring his professional assistance. About 9 o'clock we ran ashore on Taranaki beach, our troubles ended, for there was a crowd awaitiug our arrival, each all ready to offer the hand of welcome and hospitality to every one, with heartfelt rejoicings at our safety. I was soon greeted, though a stranger, with the utmost cordiality, by Colonel Wane, who immediately invited me to his house, where, having been presented to Mrs. Warre, I found myself at home, and in such an atmosphere of kindly sympathy and congratulation, that ere long, under the influence of their refined attentions, I had almost forgotten I had been six days with the M;:ories. Next morning when I met my fellow passengers, they told me tales of similar kindness— to record which it is difficult to lind sufficiently expressive terms— so unir ersal, too, was the interest felt in our fate, that I believe every man in the town would hare marched to our rescue, had it been necessary, and had they been called upon to do so. Looking back upon our intercourse with the Maori chiefs, my sympathies more are with Erewitti, the King chief; than either Wiremu Kingi or Aramu Karaka, the friendship of the two latter was of a very passive rather than active character, whilst the king chief was outspoken and straightforward in all he dtf. My general opiuion of the Maories is that, although some of the chiefs may be intelligent and even migh-minded the mass of the people, especially the older Maories, have all the appearance of the veriest savages. May I never again be so much at their mercy ! As to the passengers, severe as this blow has been to them, nothing could exceed the uncomplainiug spirit and fiimness with which they met every difficulty or apprehended danger. " Each did well in his degree ;" many a bright trait of character — of kindness and nobleness — has been evoked by the incidents of that eventful week, and the remembrance of the few perils we have passed through together, will live long and pleasantly in my memory, lessening in some measure the regrets which one must feel for our shipwreck at the Namu. I am, &c, John Vine Hall. PS- — On Sunday Mr. Graham left Taranaki with one or two friendly natives to try and recover the remainder of the gold, and I only trust ; he may sueceedin his spirited adventure. At the time 1 left Taranaki, (noon on Monday), Mr. Brown and others were going out to meet him on his return.