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Traits of native character—The wharepuni or
common dormitory—The processes of civilization—Foul
feeding —Causes of disease—Attempts at reform in social
customs—The primitive carving-knife—The Hau-Haus— The
Urewera country, the Tyrol of New Zealand— Captain Mair's
description of the hillmen—The Urewera women—Some queer facts—Extraordinary
pigs— A .whimsical scene—Then and now, a sharp contrast
—A stirring episode of the old war—Snapping of the
old links—A Maori chief's letter.
ONE of the most
pleasing and prominent traits of the Maori character seems
to be their hospitality. All authorities agree on this. My
own observations would have led me to the same conclusion.
At every village or native resort we have visited,
we have had ample evidence that they are a hospitable
people. The chief edifice in each village is the wharepuni,
literally the common sleeping- place. It is generally
adorned with much carved work of the usual grotesque
character. The inmates, which may include half the village, guests,
dogs, and even pigs and fowls, lie on either side of
a mud passage, each human individual, at any rate,
on his or her separate raupo mat, and each enveloped in
his or her blanket. Old men and maidens, young men and
matrons, alike woo the embraces of Morpheus,
indiscriminately mixed and huddled together. This, of
course, is not conducive to a high standard of either morality or
cleanliness. It is well that, according to all the
accounts recently of the most credible observers, that
things are improving in this respect. Of recent years
there has been a marked departure from most of the more
objectionable old native customs. Both immorality and
drunkenness are much less common than they were. We saw
quite enough, however, to convince us that there was yet
much room for improvement in both these respects.
In most villages there always seems to be a tangi, or
feast, in course of proceeding. These may be held at any
time. They may be occasions of joy or sorrow. They are
invariably a part of all funeral rites, and are held as
may be dictated by the financial circumstances of the
giver of the feast. Food is supplied in profusion to all
comers, and gifts given in such unstinted measure that
frequently the giver and his family have to endure actual
privation for subsequent months, to make up for the
extravagance of the outlay.
Recent years have seen a much more cordial
friendliness to Europeans engendered than formerly existed. In the north
many road and other contracts for public works are now taken up and
faithfully carried through by natives. Round the vicinity of Napier and
Wanganui, Taranaki, and other centres, partnerships have been formed between
Maoris and white settlers; and farms, sheep-runs, saw-mills, and other
industries are carried on jointly. The old native dress is giving place to
the perhaps less graceful habiliments of modern civilization. The men affect
English fashions not only in boots, ties, coats, and dress generally, but in
the cut of their whiskers, and their fondness for billiards, horse-racing,
whisky, and other so-called luxuries. We saw dozens of Maoris at Napier in
their buggies, springcarts, and vehicles of all sorts. A tall belltopper,
surmounting a grizzly tattooed visage is quite a common sight in Auckland or
Napier.
The Napier
natives were much more pleasant- looking, and bore a more
well-to-do air than those of Auckland and farther north.
At Napier we saw a substantial farmer-looking Maori
purchase for I5J-., several hideous masses of stale
stingaree or ray fish. It was fly-blown and far advanced
in decomposition in parts, and smelt abominably, yet
he filled a great sack with the disgusting carrion,
and we were told by the vendor that he sold tons of such
rank stuff every week to the inland Maoris, and that they
liked their fish as some Europeans like their game—rather
"high."
This foul
feeding is one prolific cause of disease amongst them.
Another one is their foolish disregard of common precautions against
changes of temperature. During the day they dress in
European costume ; but in the evening at the whare,
they revert to the scanty drapery of savage life, and sit
bare-headed and bare-footed round the fires, and often get
a chill.
At Wairoa we saw
a whare, in which about forty of all sexes and ages sleep
every night. Every cranny is shut up. Two fires burn on
the earthen floor. The sleeping-room is shared with the domestic animals and
vermin-infested pets of the settlement. Every mouth in this huddling human
hive holds a pipe. You can imagine the atmosphere. You can imagine the
effect on even the hardiest constitution, of a change from this reeking
pest-house to the cold crisp air of a New Zealand winter night. No wonder
pulmonary diseases and malignant fevers annually claim so many victims. It
seems to be pretty certain that the race is decreasing, though not so
rapidly as is generally asserted.
A circular has
recently been issued by the Defence Minister, the Hon. J.
Ballance, urging on the chiefs and headmen to use their
influence to alter this mode of life, and to bring about
salutary reforms in the sanitary conditions of the
pahs, and with especial reference to greater cleanliness
in the selection and preparation of food. This circular
has already had a beneficial effect. At Waitotara, even as
I write, preparations are being made by the local tribes
to hold a great tangi to welcome a distinguished visitor
in the person of Tito Kovvaru. He was the great fighting
chief of the war of 1867, but he is now perambulating the coast country
with a large following, preaching peace and goodwill to the pakeha,
i.e. white man. As a result of Mr. Ballance's
circular, strange innovations are being made in the
projected feast. A cup, saucer, spoon, knife, fork, and
plate have been provided for each anticipated visitor, and the cookery will
all be after the European fashion. The crockery for the
different tribes or hapus will all be of different
patterns; and when one tries to recall such a feast in the
not very olden time, with its accompaniment of
war-dance and possibly sodden or roasted human flesh as
the piece de resistance, one begins to realize somewhat
the mighty change which is now apparent in the character
as well as in the physical surroundings of the Maoris
after twenty years. At a banquet given to the Duke of
Edinburgh during hi» visit, some of the big chiefs were
seen by my informant to go into the dining-hall, and each
seizing a goose, or turkey, or other fowl, proceeded
to carve it in fine old savage fashion by dismembering the carcase
with teeth and fingers, much as a wolf would have done.
These very men now are conversant with silk hats, paper
collars, Albert chains, and all the conventionalities of
the correct diner-out.
The change is
infinitely to the advantage of the noble savage, if, with
the conventionalities he could only happily discard the
vices and follies of our modern civilization.
I had the good
fortune to meet a band of real primitive Maoris at Wairoa.
They were Hau-Haus from the Urewera country, and their dress,
weapons, and manners were as yet unmodified by
European contact. Some years ago Government, for some
service or other, had granted the Ure- weras a sum of
5000/., and traders were attracted to the wild and almost
inaccessible mountain country. McRae gave us an amusing
account of his first trading trip, the recital of which
convinced us of two things, viz. that the Hau-Haus must
have been a very simple, primitive people, with a very
hazy idea of values of such goods as shawls, ribbons,
beads, and gewgaws generally. And also that McRae's ideas
of profits, and the utilization of opportunities of making
them, were quite up to the very highest proverbial
Aberdonian standard.
We were also
fortunate enough to meet at Ohinemutu Captain Mair, who
commanded the Arawa contingent of natives during the big
war. He has been in constant contact, official and
friendly both, with the natives here for about
twenty years, and there are perhaps not half-a- dozen men
in New Zealand who know as much of native life and manners
and customs as he does. He has one of the finest and most
complete collections of Maori curios extant, and he was
good enough to show us some of his latest acquisitions, and to give
us much valuable and interesting information on this subject.
Urewera, says
Captain .Mair, is the Tyrol of New Zealand. It is not very
accessible. There are two ways of penetrating the country.
One from the coast near Tauranga, the other from the
Lake country. The latter route was traversed by
Captain Mair during a recent visit. The road is simply the
bed of a mountain river called the Horomanga. It may give
some idea of the nature of the country, when it is known
that the traveller has to cross the bed of this river no
less than one hundred and eighty-six times before he
reaches the uplands.
The Ureweras are
lean, lank, active mountaineers. They know the country as a bushman
knows the run on which he was born and bred, and
they often make almost incredible journeys even on the
darkest nights, threading the most dangerous defiles with
all the agility and sure footedness of a goat. They are
industrious, too, and indeed most of the pretty flax mats
and bags that one sees exposed for sale in shops and among
the Maoris of the plains are made by these mountaineers.
They are very
excitable and emotional. Indeed, the Maori race generally
are easily moved by any impulse, and tears and laughter
are never hard to excite, according as their feelings are
touched. It was among the Ureweras that the Hau-Hau
fanaticism (a strange jumble of Judaistic and Pagan
religious fervour) was developed.
Perhaps the most
effective proof of their simple unconventionality was
contained in Captain Mair's statement that the women make
really good mothers-in-law. They invariably back up the
son- in-law in domestic broils.
The women are
springy, good-looking, and hardy to a degree.
"Do you think
the adoption of European dress has an injurious effect on
the health of the Maoris?" we asked.
"Undoubtedly. Especially when they adopt some of the more
insane devices of fashion to cramp and distort the human frame, high-heeled
boots, for instance."
"I can cite one
instance of their hardihood," said the captain. "One
woman, during a prolonged and severe march, fell out of the line about
nine miles from the destination of her party, for
the night. Having given birth to a baby, she walked into
the camp the same evening, bearing, in addition to the
burden of her newly-born child, a load of firewood, and
then she went about her usual work as blithely as if
nothing unusual had occurred."
"Similar
instances are on record," I said, "among the American
Indians, and I have known of like cases among Hindoo
coolie women."
"One very
strange instance of maternal sympathy," proceeded the captain, "I can vouch
for, as it is within my own personal knowledge. One
old woman in the Urewera country found herself in
milk when her only daughter bore children, and, as the
mother could not, this old grandmother suckled her grandchildren herself,
and this occurred six times in succession."
"Is it true,"
asked one of our party, "as I have read in some books,
that the Maori women suckle young pigs ?"
"A gross libel,
sir," says the captain. "An offensive traveller's yarn. I
have lived among the Maoris more than most white men, and
I never yet heard of a case of the sort, either as regards
pigs or any other animal. One doctor who came here,
and who firmly believed the truth of the common rumour,
was indeed in danger of coming to serious bodily harm,
because he sent to the settlement to try and get a Maori
foster-nurse for a little puppy of a favourite breed whose
mother had died."
"Talking of
pigs," said our punning friend, "we saw a one-eared pig in
Wairoa, and we were wondering if it was the result of accident or what?"
"Oh, such a
sight is common enough in every Maori village. Indeed you
often see pigs quite earless. The dogs tear or gnaw them
off. On the coast the most extraordinary pigs may be
seen. They would puzzle any naturalist not
acquainted with the cause. The hind-quarters are quite
contracted and atrophied. They are shrunken away to
infantile proportions. You see a great massive head and
front, with brawny chest and ample shoulders. A pig,
indeed, with a front like 'The Albanian boar,' but with
the hind-quarters of a sucking pig. The quaint-looking
brute rears up like a giraffe. His spine is at an angle of
45° At Whakatane I counted sixteen, all in this
condition."
"What is the
cause?"
"It is caused by
their eating karaka berries. The karaka is the New Zealand
laurel (Corynocar- pus laevigata). These berries.contain
prussic acid, and seem to act on the lumbar muscles,
causing them to become shrivelled up, as I have
described." . ..
The toot plant,
another very common shrub all over the islands, has a
peculiar effect on cattle or sheep partaking of it. It
induces sudden and violent vertigo, partial paralysis, and
if taken in any quantity will kill the animal who eats it.
A shrub, with a whitish leaf, called the paper plant,
is also plentiful hereabouts, and horses who eat of
it ofttimes die from the effects.
"There are few
deformities among the natives, are there not?" we ask.
"Very few,
indeed. Scrofula sometimes has its victims, and is induced
by eating rotten maize."
During the whole
of our trip we only saw one hunchbacked native.
As we were leaving Ohinemutu we were spectators of a
most whimsical scene. It would have made the gloomiest anchorite laugh.
Ranged in a row in the middle of the street before the hotel we saw five
native Roman Catholic priests. They were bareheaded, and deep emotion of
some sort or another was depicted on their countenances. It might have been
indigestion, but it looked like woe. The verandah of the hotel was crowded
by a miscellaneous horde of semi-civilized savages, and these now began a
slow procession, and one by one proceeded solemnly but methodically to rub
noses with the five reverend fathers. Many tears fell, but not a word was
spoken. Doubtless there was pathos in the tearful silent farewell, but the
nose rubbing was too much for our gravity ; it was really too ludicrous. It
was such a scene as could only be witnessed in Maoriland: the poor flock
affectionately rubbing noses with their respected shepherds. I have seen
many a goodbye, but never one like this.
The women folk
were not permitted to participate in the nasal osculation. 'The more
modern, if less effusive, hand-shaking was alone
vouchsafed to them. They gave vent to their feelings,
however, by joining in a wild and noisy saltatory measure
in the verandah, accompanied by hoarse shouts, snapping of
fingers, barking of dogs, and the crack of whips and
rattle of wheels as we rolled away from Kelly's hospitable
abode and bade a reluctant adieu to the Hot Lakes and
their many marvels.
The drive back
through the bush, where we loaded the coach with the most
beautiful mosses and ferns ; the cheerful chat with Harry;
the first glimpse of snow on the far distant battlements
of Ruapehu and Tongariro, all, all might be dilated
on if the reader could but share the raptures of the
writer; but alas! at secondhand, earth's brightest
joys are apt to pall somewhat, and the most vivid and
graphic narrative cannot bring up the sensations which
make recollections hallowed, and cause the flush of
pleasure to mount the cheek and brow, as memory recalls
the gladness and joy which have gone, never again,
perhaps, to be renewed.
I cannot more fittingly close this chapter of rather
fragmentary gossip on the natives than by presenting the reader with an
account from one of the local newspapers while referring to the recent
turning of the sod of further -railway extension through the Maori country.
It is the most remarkable instance, perhaps, I could give, of the changes
that have taken place in twenty years' time:—
"The ceremony at
Te Awamutu was a pleasing contrast to the scene enacted
within three miles of that spot during this very month
one-and-twenty years ago. Early in April, when Cameron and
Carey were out, word was brought that some three or
four hundred Maoris were fortifying a position at Orakau.
General Carey at once attacked them with 1200 men. They
repelled several assaults, baffled the artillery fire with
bundles of fern, compelled our people to proceed by sap, and annoyed
them terribly during the process. Before the attack
they had declared proudly that they would fight' for ever,
and ever, and ever.' Want of water, failing ammunition, a
reinforcement of 400 British, and the slaughter wrought by
shells and hand- grenades at last making the position
untenable, they marched out through a gap in the investing
line left open for the artillery fire.
"They were in a
solid column,' wrote an eyewitness, ' the women, the children, and the
great chiefs in the centre, and they marched out as cool
and steady as if they were going to church. A
flanking fire galled them as they marched, a swamp lay
between them and the Punui River, where was safety. They
lost heavily, but many reserved the last of their
ammunition for the swamp. They fought their way through
with undaunted resolution, and brought away an
unconquerable remnant. Half their number had fallen.
"General Carey said, in his despatch, 'It is impossible
not to admire the heroic courage and devotion of the natives in defending
themselves so long against overwhelming numbers. Surrounded closely on all
sides, cut off from their supply of water, and deprived of all hope of
succour, they resolutely held their ground for more than two days, and did
not abandon their position until the sap had reached the ditch of their last
entrenchment.'
"It was one of
the finest deeds in New Zealand story. The man who
commanded against us in this heroic fight was Rewi, who
turned the first sod of the Northern Grand Trunk Railway
the other day, within the view of the ground of the great
exploit. The gathering was not so great in 1885 as
in 1864. But its result will be greater and better. The
whirligig of time has given us a most romantic contrast."
It is sad to
reflect that one by one the gallant old fighting chiefs
are fading away. The links that bound the present age of
bustle and progress to the old era of early settlement are
snapping fast, and soon it will be quite a rarity to see a
tattooed Maori at all. Not long since another of the old
celebrities died at the Kaik, Otago Heads. This was
an old chief named Waitota, or, as he was more familiarly
called, New Zealand Jack. He had reached the ripe age of
ninety-two.
This ancient Maori chief had lived at the Kaik
ever since the arrival of the ship John Wickliffc, as long ago as the year
1848. Jack had been quite a traveller in his day, had seen a great deal of
the world, and altogether led a most eventful life. He was born in the
Nelson district, and always held high rank amongst the natives. On one
occasion he was taken prisoner during a war between the South and North
Island natives, and was then conveyed to the Bay of Islands. After his
escape from captivity, he shipped on board an American whaler, and sailed in
her to the United States. Then returning again to New Zealand, Waitota
joined an English ship and made a voyage to London. He then traded between
that port and China for a time, and ultimately joined the ship John
Wickliffe which brought the first settlers to Otago under the late Captain
Cargill. Waitota was really a wonderful
old fellow, gifted with a
splendid memory, and a fluent tongue ; he could tell one the most
interesting stories about the early history of various parts of the colony,
and his graphic description of life among the Maoris in olden times was
invariably realistic and vivid in the extreme. And so, one after another of
the old tribal chiefs are passing away, and with them many a legend and
ancient tradition that it would be well to have preserved.
After I had written this chapter I came across a
curious document which is of peculiar interest as showing what some of the
more powerful and observant chiefs themselves think of the surrival of their
race. It is a reply, from Tuteao Manihera, dated from Kawhia in response to
the circular letter of^the native minister, Mr. Ballance, before g 2 alluded
to:—"Friend, salutations to you. I have received your circular letter
pointing out how disease could be averted and the means of preserving
health among the native people of New Zealand. Your advice is good. Friend,
listen to this. According to the observation made by the Maori people as to
the decay of their own people, it is found that formerly, in the days of our
ancestors, the natives mostly died of old age. Their whares, their clothing,
their food, were very bad. When they slept at night, they used fire to keep
them warm, and in the day they basked in the sun, its heat serving them as
clothing, and the people never died off. But the arrival of the Europeans to
these islands brought disease amongst them, and two complaints made their
appearance, namely, chest complaint and cough. From that time the numbers of
natives began to decline. Subsequently, another disease called measles, and
now fever has come, and rheumatism. Among other causes which have been
discovered by the Maoris is that they have been neglected by the ministers,
for the Maoris have a reverence for sacred things. In former days, when the
chief of any tribe died, before that evil happened, his approaching death
would have been known to all by the flash of lightning and the roar of
thunder rolling along the mountain-tops of his own district. No matter where
the chief was dying, they always knew, and would always say that
such-and-such a chief was dying, because that the thunder and lightning were
in such-and-such a place. Friend, the food
and clothing are now both
very good, but the Maoris are dying off rapidly. This is what I have to say
to you:—If you think well of it, let all vessels that come here be
inspected, and if any kind of sickness be found on board, let them be
ordered to go away, so that we may not catch the sickness. That is all. I
leave it to you to judge whether it is right or wrong. Enough.
"Your loving friend.
"Tuteao Manihera, Pihopa." |
