CHAPTER XIV

INDEPENDENCE AND ARGUMENT

Most people agree that the method adopted by the New Zealand Company in their anxiety to acquire land might have been improved upon, but few will deny them the credit which is theirs in the matter of actual colonisation. They were the first to colonise systematically; they were careful in the selection of their colonists, striving after the finer types of manhood; and they planted settlements with extraordinary rapidity, considering the difficulties of transit and transport.

It was the destiny of the Islands of the South to be colonised by the people of Great Britain and, since this was so, it was best that the infant colonies should be cared for by those capable of the task. Australia--in part--and Tasmania suffered from the obnoxious policy which used them as pits into which was swept the refuse of the British people. From this fate, its terrible results, and the long purification it necessitated, New Zealand happily escaped. That she did so was in no small measure due to the efforts of the Company, whose powerful Directors strenuously opposed the project in their day, just as the humane impulse of the British had opposed it in cannibal days.

The Company were very active in the first year of their existence. A twelvemonth after the founding of Wellington they had three new settlements to their credit and, before two years were out, they had added a fourth. There might have been a fifth, but, owing to the inability of the Company to furnish titles, only one shipload of immigrants disembarked at Manukau, and the idea of forming a settlement there was abandoned. Manukau is six miles west of, and almost opposite to, Auckland, to which it forms a second harbour, the land portage between the two inlets being barely a mile across.

Afraid to purchase land without a title, yet receiving from the Company the offer of no other in that locality, a couple of hundred immigrants removed themselves to Whanganui, on the west coast, one hundred and twenty miles north of Wellington. If the Company owned the land which the settlers took up there, the latter were hardly allowed to possess it in peace; for Whanganui was for years after its settlement in a state of unrest, and the pages of its history contain the record of at least one dreadful tragedy. The beautiful river--the Rhine of New Zealand--enters the sea close by the town, forming a waterway by which the Maori of the interior could easily approach and as easily withdraw; a condition of things of which they took full advantage in turbulent times. The Company's settlers called the town they founded "Petre," but the picturesque Maori name has survived.

The Company presently turned their attention to the Middle Island, and there decided upon two hundred thousand acres of land bordering Tasman Bay and its neighbourhood. The lots were eagerly bought in England; Captain Arthur Wakefield, R.N., a brother of the tactful Colonel, was appointed commander of the expedition and resident agent, and two shiploads of emigrants sailed for the new settlement, which was to be named Nelson.

While these preliminaries were being arranged, more immigrants arrived at Taranaki, or New Plymouth, the "Garden of New Zealand," where the Company claimed ownership of sixty miles of coast by a stretch of twenty miles inland. We saw this place when we stood with Te Turi and his followers and gazed from afar at the snowpeak of Mount Egmont. Hither, too, came Hongi and his conquering Nga-Puhi and, after him, Waikato's champion, Te Wherowhero of the red robe, who between them made an end of the men of Taranaki, enslaving those they left alive.

Even while the new arrivals were parcelling out the land and grumbling at the lack of a good harbour, back came the manumitted slaves, ancient owners of Taranaki, and stood aghast to see what changes time had wrought. Their feeble protest availed them nothing. Whether the Company had purchased the land or not, Governor Hobson now owned it under the Crown's right of preemption, and the poor men of Taranaki were forced to hide their twice diminished heads.

The ships bound for the Middle Island had by this time arrived at Wellington, whence, after some delay, the immigrants were carried across the strait to Tasman Bay. The native chiefs courteously received them; but, when Captain Wakefield promised gifts as soon as the land bought by the Colonel should be occupied, the Maori stood silent. Had they said aught, it would probably have been a Maori version of _Timemus exules, et dona ferentes_.

However, they professed to welcome the white men; whereupon the agent smiled, the anxious would-be settlers cheered, surveyors were landed, and the town of Nelson was founded on the 1st of February, 1842.

Do you who read remember how, when Hongi pressed him hard, Te Rauparaha of the Ngati-Toa fled headlong with his tribe along a path of blood to the south, and how he crossed the strait, and burned and slew and ate? He is still a force to be reckoned with, this Te Rauparaha. He is getting on in years, and lives with his tribe in the neighbourhood of Otaki on the west, north of Wellington. But he can look thence across the strait towards the lands he conquered not so long ago, and dissentingly shakes his head as the Nelson-bound ships pass on their way, while he openly expresses his disgust at the coming of so many more Pakeha.

As Captain Wakefield parted from the little warrior-diplomatist with the twinkling eyes and broad forehead, no prophetic vision came to him of the fearful scene to be enacted a year later in the valley of the Wairau, when the price of the land was to be exacted in blood--his own.

As at Wellington, as at Whanganui, as at Taranaki, so at Nelson disputes soon began between Maori and colonist, the theme being ever the ownership of the land. Words led to blows, blows to sullen mutterings of _utu_ and, so far as the Company's settlers were concerned, it seemed as if harmonious intercourse and continued agreement with the natives were outside the range of possible things.

While this bickering was going on, Governor Hobson had founded a town at his end of the North Island. Auckland he named the city in embryo; _Akarana_ the Maori called it; and from first to last the Company had nothing to do with it. They were, in fact, extremely jealous of its progress.

The site of a capital had not been selected till then. The seat of government was where the Governor happened to reside; but a spot was chosen at the head of the beautiful Hauraki Gulf, where the British flag was hoisted on the 18th of September, 1840, and the Governor's residence established at what has grown to be the splendid city of Auckland.

A finer or more charming situation could hardly have been found than this on the right of the Waitemata, or "Glittering Water," with the superb Hauraki Gulf to the east, the harbour of Manukau to the west, and waterways in all directions to the south. How wise was this choice of a site is proved to-day by the great and prosperous city, in touch with all the world, which now gives a home to eighty thousand of Britain's sons.

There was clamour over the Governor's selection. Wellington urged its elder birth, its central position, its magnificent harbour; but Captain Hobson abode by his choice. Russell, hard by Kororareka, made bitter plaint; for the glory of becoming the chief city of the State had been dangled before it, and visions of political prominence had intoxicated it. Now that its chance was irretrievably gone, the fickle crowd deserted it and pitched their tents in Auckland. So Russell wilted away. Once again it was to blaze into brief, and rather ghastly, notoriety, and then to sink into oblivion.

While these rival cities were in the making, Captain Hobson rigorously enforced the right of the Crown to be the sole purchaser of land from the natives, and set going the examination into purchases already made. As usual, the innocent suffered with the guilty, and many who had bought land in perfect good faith found their purchases diminished by half, or altogether invalid.

These were consequently ruined; but their sufferings did not affect the forward movement. Systematic colonisation had begun, and in the capable hands of the Anglo-Saxon was bound to go on. A check here, a dispute there, a few hundred ruined in the process, never yet stopped the expansion of the British Empire, and, unless the character of her sons changes greatly, never will.

Queen Victoria's sovereignty over the islands was formally proclaimed in 1840 and, before the end of 1842, eleven thousand settlers had cast their fortunes in the colony, distributing themselves among the eight settlements of Wellington, Auckland, Nelson, Taranaki (New Plymouth), Russell (or Kororareka), Hokianga, Whanganui, and Akaroa, which was largely French.

The long civil war originated by Hongi was now over, the Maori were looking favourably upon the white men, and were growing inclined to adopt their ways and imitate their methods. Yet, though Christianity and its milder influences were spreading, the brown men had still to tread a long path before they reached the goal of civilisation. The Pakeha appreciated this, and noted with apprehension that the Maori seldom visited the settlements unless armed with the guns which the folly or greed of commercial adventurers had placed within their reach.

Yet "ever upon the topmost roof our banner of England blew," and, as ship followed ship, bringing new settlers, every day saw the Pakeha grow stronger, though the natives were still predominant.

A new country is usually "go-ahead," but New Zealand was remarkably so, nor has she in this respect ever fallen short of her beginning.

Within a year of her "declaration of independence," though things were very much in the rough, there was promise of that colonial splendour which has since--in the short space of sixty-eight years--been amply fulfilled.

The difficulties were grave indeed. The land question was a source of constant friction, and of ready money there was little or none. Notwithstanding fairly substantial help from the mother country, in spite of the newly imposed customs dues and the sale of Crown lands, the new country's imports surpassed the exports nearly ten times over. No wonder money was scarce and, owing to the paucity of meat other than pork, food very dear.

But these drawbacks could not stifle enthusiasm, and in each of the towns--now rapidly casting behind them the character of mere settlements--growth was steady, and the energy of the inhabitants astonishing.

The mineral wealth of the colony was attracting attention--iron, copper, manganese, coal and lime were known to exist; the great variety of magnificent timber trees promised to become an important source of revenue, and New Zealand flax had already established a reputation which it has never lost. The character of the land in parts was such as led some even then to prophesy that New Zealand would become one of the grazing grounds of the world; though it is doubtful if the prophets foresaw the immense revenue which was to be derived later from the exportation of meat for consumption by the hungry folk in the northern hemisphere. With the future so rose-tinted, it is no wonder that the shadows of the present had little power to depress the sanguine colonists.

The Legislative Council had lost no time in passing beneficial Acts, the citizens were inclined to be law-abiding, and trade, of a sort, flourished. The architecture in the towns was not exactly classic; but all looked confidently forward to the time when the weather-board house with from two to six rooms should be replaced by the mansion, and the tiny general store make way for the splendid palace of the merchant prince. Compare pictures of a street in Auckland or Wellington in 1842 with photographs of the same street to-day, and admit that the expectation has been fulfilled.

The children who had accompanied their parents to the new land were not allowed to run wild, and education was not entirely neglected. The power of the Press, too, had already made itself felt by the issue of nine newspapers. These had neither the dignity nor the imposing size of the mighty dailies of to-day, being for the most part smaller than a single page of any of them, while one, at least, was printed in a mangle! Yet there they were and, if most of them died, they have left descendants to be proud of.

Keeping in view that these forward steps of the infant colony were made within one year of her assumption of independence, that the colonists had to struggle against real financial troubles, that, in many cases, their claim to the land they had bought was disputed, and--most sinister obstacle of all--that they were face to face with a proud, intellectual, warlike race, not altogether friendly, and outnumbering them by five to one,--keeping all this in view, is it not admirable that those strenuous men of yesterday and their worthy descendants of to-day should, in little more than half a century, have raised New Zealand from a tiny colony of eight scattered settlements to a dominion of the Empire?

We have seen how Governor Hobson opposed what he held to be the illegal acts of a Company engineered by men not likely to take blows "lying down." The Directors in England represented their case as just, and claimed some twenty million acres as fairly purchased. The British Government accepted their statement, allowed the claim, and on the 12th of February, 1841, gave the Company a Royal Charter of Incorporation.

The Company were jubilant. It now mattered not if grumbling Maori should declare that their lands had been unfairly acquired, and aver, as they did aver, that the purchases of the Company were "thievish bargains"; the power of Britain was behind the Company, who could henceforth defy opponents of whatever colour.

Not quite. There was Governor Hobson to be reckoned with, and his counterblast was terribly effective. He refused--under the proclamation of the previous year--to give the Company Crown grants for any of their purchases.

The long wrangle began again, and the upshot of it all was that, after interminable argument, the British Government peremptorily extinguished the Company's title to all land acquired from the Maori, and a commissioner was appointed to examine all claims of purchasers of land from the Company. There could be only one result to action of this sort. The Company fought hard for existence, but in 1850 surrendered to the Imperial Government their charter and all their interests in the Colony of New Zealand, and died hard after a turbulent life.

We have anticipated somewhat, for we are still at the point where the Company received a Charter of Incorporation. But the exultation of the Company was as nothing beside that of the young colony on the 3rd of May, 1841, when New Zealand, till then but an extension of New South Wales, was declared by the Imperial Government independent of the older colony, and given permission to steer her own course through the difficult shallows of organisation to the distant ocean of completion and greatness.

In the first flush of joy at escaping from control, very little heed was taken of difficulties. It seemed as if the infant State had only waited for its independence in order to make a forward bound; for all that pertained to the old order of things was, as far as possible, swept away.

The three islands were renamed New Ulster, New Munster, and New Leinster. The Governor became Commander-in-Chief of the one hundred and fifty men of the 80th Regiment who formed the "standing army." Two Councils were nominated--an Executive and a Legislative, with His Excellency at the head of each; a Chief Justice was appointed and the great offices of the Law filled; while the then predominance of the Church of England was recognised by the creation of a bishop, whose see was the colony.

The first bishop, Dr. Selwyn, was a remarkable man, and it is probable that among all the English clergy no one could have been found so well suited for the pioneer work and rough experiences inseparable from the lot of the first Bishop of New Zealand. He was in very truth a missionary bishop, and his athletic youth and manhood had served to prepare him for the duties he was now called upon to perform, which were by no means confined to the wearing of lawn sleeves, gaiters, and apron.

Dr. Selwyn's Eton training stood him in good stead in the wilds, and very soon after his arrival in May, 1842, he convinced men that he was a man as well as a divine. Who worked with Selwyn must work with all their might; nor did he shirk his own share. He worked with his coat off, literally as well as metaphorically, though no man living possessed a finer dignity of appearance and manner. Hardy settlers, Maori inured to effort and fatigue, confessed that, when they accompanied the stalwart _pikopo_ (bishop) on his expeditions by mountain, bush, or river, it was their legs, not his, which first gave out, their muscular frames which clamoured for rest, while his was as yet untired.

As an example of his energy, it is only necessary to point out that, within five years of his arrival, he founded, built, and got into first-rate working order at Auckland the College of St. John, for the education of youth of both races, and had already instituted those pilgrimages among the islands which later made his name so famous and beloved.

The rejoicings over New Zealand's improved status were barely over before there were ominous signs that contact with his white brother had not yet completely softened the Maori. Moreover, a dispute between two Maori tribes, occurring, as it did, under the very shadow of the new Executive, showed that the chiefs were not yet wholly prepared to acknowledge the sovereignty of Britain, nor to tolerate the interference of the Pakeha in their own quarrels.

Taraia, a chief of a tribe in the neighbourhood of the Thames river, having successfully assaulted the _pa_ of a Tauranga tribe, cooked and ate the bodies of two of the slain chiefs, after the old manner of the Maori at the conclusion of a successful battle.

The Tauranga folk were Christians, while Taraia and his party were not. Returning home, drunk with success--the Maori were not often drunk with the products of grape or corn--Taraia and his people desecrated the small church in their neighbourhood. The Christian congregation were gathered together for evening prayer when, to the horror of all, two hideous objects rolled into their midst, came to rest and grinned up at them. They were the heads of the chiefs who had been slain at Tauranga.

Bloodthirsty as he must appear to those long since emerged from savagery, Taraia's behaviour at the _pa_ of Erongo was neither savage nor illegal from his point of view. He merely claimed _utu_, as his race had done from time immemorial, his contention being that, whatever the law of the white man, the Maori had their own law and meant to abide by it. He actually put his views before the Governor, who was about to despatch a punitive expedition, and demanded by what right His Excellency proposed to interfere in a purely native quarrel. "Your wisest plan will be to let the matter drop," advised Taraia, "considering how very few Maori chiefs in the interior have signed the Treaty of Waitangi and admitted the sovereignty of Queen Wikitoria."

This was a palpable hit; the Governor altered his mind, and sent missionaries instead of soldiers. Taraia readily expressed his willingness to compensate the Tauranga people for the slaughter of their relatives; "but first," said he, "let them compensate me. Did they not eat my mother?" The argument was incontrovertible, and the dreadful incident closed.

Taraia's defiance took on a new significance when it was realised how many chiefs were opposed to the dominion of the Pakeha. Besides, numbers of Maori in the north remembered the words of the dying Hongi, and viewed with sullen disapproval the transference of so much land to the white men. Captain Hobson had neither the will nor the power to operate upon a large scale and so enforce submission, and his disappointment at the failure of his hopes was keen indeed.

The Governor's pacific demeanour pleased nobody; and even in Auckland, where his attitude towards the Company had at first won him general esteem, men now turned upon him and blamed his policy for almost every disagreeable thing which happened. "He will neither allow the Company to buy from the natives, nor will he himself buy," they snarled; and petitions, representations to the Home Government, and even threats of personal violence, made the Governor's life miserable.

He was not long so tried, for he died on the 10th of September, 1842, and after his death some, at least, had the grace to be ashamed of their behaviour towards a man who had honestly striven to do his best in a most difficult situation. The Maori, with clearer vision than the self-swayed Pakeha, saw the good that was in Captain Hobson. It is significant that, when petitioning Her Majesty for a new Governor, the friendly chiefs wrote, "Give us a good man, like him who is dead."