Books: Life of John Coleridge Patteson

C >> Charlotte M. Yonge >> Life of John Coleridge Patteson

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On the Island of Pines, so called from the tower-like masses of the
Norfolk pine on the shores, was at that time the French Bishop of New
Caledonia, the Oul, as the natives called him and his countrymen, for
whom they had little love. After an interview between the two
bishops, the 'Undine' returned to New Zealand, where the native boys
were brought to St. John's College. The system of education there
combined agricultural labour and printing with study, and the
authorities and the boys shared according to their strength in both,
for there was nothing more prominent in the Bishop's plan than that
the coloured man was not to be treated as a mere hewer of wood and
drawer of water, but, as a Maori once expressed the idea: 'Gentleman-
gentleman thought nothing that ought to be done at all too mean for
him; pig-gentleman never worked.' The whole community, including the
ladies and their guests, dined together in hall.

The five boys behaved well, Siapo being a leader in all that was
good, and made advances in Christian knowledge; but it was one of the
Bishop's principles that none of them should be baptized till he had
proved whether his faith were strong enough to resist the trial of a
return to his native home and heathen friends. The climate of New
Zealand is far too chilly for these inhabitants of tropical regions,
and it was absolutely necessary to return them to their homes during
the winter quarter from June to August. The scheme therefore was to
touch at their islands, drop them there, proceed then further on the
voyage, and then, returning the same way, resume them, if they were
willing to come under instruction for baptism and return to the
college. In the lack of a common language, Bishop Selwyn hoped to
make them all learn English, and only communicate with one another in
that.

The 'Undine,' not being large enough for the purpose, was exchanged
for the 'Border Maid;' and in the course of the next three years an
annual voyage was made, and boys to the number of from twelve to
fourteen brought home. Siapo of Nengone was by far the most
promising scholar. He was a strong influence, when at home, on
behalf of the Samoan teachers, and assisted in the building of a
round chapel, smoothly floored, and plastered with coral lime. In
1852 he was baptized, together with three of his friends, in this
chapel, in his own island, by the Bishop, in the presence of a
thousand persons, and received the name of George. When the 'Border
Maid' returned, though he was convalescent from a severe illness, he
not only begged that he might come back, but that the young girl to
whom he was betrothed might be taken to New Zealand to be trained in
Christian ways. Ready consent was given, and the little Wabisane,
and her companion Wasitutru (Little Chattering Bird), were brought on
board, and arrayed in petticoats fashioned by the Bishop's own hands,
from his own counterpane, with white skirts above, embellished with a
bow of scarlet ribbon, the only piece of finery to be found in the
'Border Maid.' The Rev. William Nihill had spent the period of this
trip at Nengone, and had become deeply interested in the people. The
island was then thought likely to become a centre whence to work on
adjacent places; but to the grief and disappointment of all, George
Siapo did not live through the summer at St. John's. He had never
recovered his illness at home, and rapidly declined; but his faith
burnt brighter as his frame became weaker, and his heart was set on
the conversion of his native country. He warmly begged Mr. Nihill to
return thither, and recommended him to the protection of his friends,
and he wished his own brother to become scholar at St. John's. His
whole demeanour was that of a devoted Christian, and when he died, in
the January of the year 1853, he might be regarded as the firstfruits
of the Melanesian Church. Since Mr. Nihill was about to return to
Nengone, and there was a certain leaven of Christianity in the place,
the girls were not subjected to the probation of a return before
baptism, but were christened Caroline and Sarah, after Mrs. Abraham
and Mrs. Selwyn.

Another very satisfactory pupil was little Umao. An English sailor
in a dreadful state of disease had been left behind by a whaler at
Erromango, where the little Umao, a mere boy, had attached himself to
him, and waited on him with the utmost care and patience, though
meeting with no return but blows and rough words. The man moved to
Tanna, where there are mineral springs highly esteemed by the
natives, and when the 'Border Maid' touched there, in 1851, he was
found in a terrible condition, but with the little fellow faithfully
attending him. The Englishman was carried to Sydney, and left in the
hospital there; but Umao begged not to be sent home, for he said his
parents cruelly ill-used him and his brothers, and set them to watch
the fire all night to keep off evil spirits; so, when New Zealand
became too cold for him, he was sent to winter at the London
Society's station in Anaiteum. His sweet friendly nature expanded
under Christian training, but his health failed, and in the course of
the voyage of 1853 he became so ill that his baptism was hastened,
and he shortly after died in the Bishop's arms.

Two more boys, cousins, from Lifu, also died. There never was any
suspicion or displeasure shown among the relatives of these youths.
Their own habits were frightfully unhealthy; they were not a long-
lived people, and there was often great mortality among them, and
though they were grieved at the loss of their sons, they never seemed
distrustful or ungrateful. But it was evident that, even in the
summer months, the climate of New Zealand was trying to these
tropical constitutions, and as it was just then determined that
Norfolk Island should no longer be the penal abode of the doubly
convicted felons of Botany Bay, but should instead become the home of
the descendants of the mutineers of the 'Bounty' who had outgrown
Pitcairn's Island, the Bishop cast his eyes upon it as the place most
likely to agree alike with English and Melanesian constitutions, and
therefore eminently fitted for the place of instruction.

The expenses of the voyages in the 'Border Maid' had been met partly
by the Eton Association, and partly by another association at Sydney,
where a warm interest in these attempts had been excited and
maintained by the yearly visits of Bishop Selwyn, who usually visited
Australia while the lads were wintering at their homes. But the
'Border Maid' was superannuated, nor had she ever been perfectly
fitted for the purpose; and when, in 1853, the Bishop was obliged to
come to England to take measures for dividing his diocese, he also
hoped to obtain permission to establish a Melanesian school on
Norfolk Island, and to obtain the means of building a schooner yacht,
small enough to be navigated in the narrow, shallow creeks separating
the clustered islets, and yet capacious enough for the numerous
passengers. In the meantime Mr. Nihill went to Nengone with his wife
and child. His lungs were much affected, but he hoped that the
climate would prolong his power of working among the Christian
community, who heartily loved and trusted him.

Other fellow-labourers the Bishop hoped to obtain at home, though it
was his principle never to solicit men to come with him, only to take
those who offered themselves; but all the particulars of the above
narration had been known to Coley Patteson through the Bishop's
correspondence with Mr. Edward Coleridge, as well as by the yearly
report put forth by the Eton Association, and this no doubt served to
keep up in his heart the flame that had burnt unseen for so many
years, and to determine its direction, though he put himself
unreservedly at the Bishop's disposal, to work wherever he might be
sent.

The means for the mission ship 'Southern Cross' were raised. She was
built at Blackwall by Messrs. Wigram, and, after all the delays,
sailed on the very same day as the 'Duke of Portland.'

Meantime here are a few extracts from Patteson's journal-letter
during the voyage. Sea-sickness was very slightly disabling with
him; he was up and about in a short time, and on the 8th of April was
writing:--

'What a day this has been to me, the twenty-eighth anniversary of my
baptism to begin with, and then Easter Day spent at sea!

'April 20th, lat, 4° N., long. 25° W.--Rather hot. It is very fine
to see all the stars of the heavens almost rise and pass overhead and
set--Great Bear and Southern Cross shining as in rivalry of each
other, and both hemispheres showing forth all their glory. Only the
Polar Star, that shines straight above you, is gone below our
horizon; and One alone knows how much toil, and perhaps sorrow, there
may be in store for me before I see it again. But there is and will
be much happiness and comfort also, for indeed I have great peace of
mind, and a firm conviction that I am doing what is right; a feeling
that God is directing and ordering the course of my life, and
whenever I take the only true view of the business of life, I am
happy and cheerful.

'May 10.--It is, I find, quite settled, and was indeed always, that I
am to go always with the Bishop, roving about the Melanesian
department, so that for some years, if I live, I shall be generally
six months at sea. And not little to my delight, I find that the six
winter months (i.e. your summer months) are the ones that we shall
spend in sailing about the islands within or near the tropics, so
that I shall have little more shivering limbs or blue hands, though I
may feel in the long run the effect of a migratory swallow-like life.
But the sea itself is a perpetual tonic, and when I am thoroughly
accustomed to a sea life, I think I shall be better almost on board
ship.'

This seems the place for Bishop Selwyn's impression, as written to a
friend at this very time. 'Coley Patteson is a treasure which I
humbly set down as a Divine recompense for our own boys*. He is a
good fellow, and the tone of his mind is one which I can thoroughly
enjoy, content with the 'to aei' present, yet always aiming at a
brighter and better future.'

*(Footnote: Left at home for education.)

'June 18.--You must think of us at 8 P.M. on Sundays--just at 8.20
A.M. before you come down to prayers. The Bishop has a service in
the College chapel; then, after all the "runners" (clergy who have
district chapels) have returned, chanting Psalms, and reading
collects, which bear especially on the subject of unity, introducing
the special Communion thanksgiving for Whitsunday, and the Sanctus,
and the Prayer for Unity in the Accession Service. I feel that it
must be an impressive and very happy way of ending the Sunday, and
you will be at Sunday prayers at the other end of the world praying
with us.

'July 3.--Still at sea. As soon as we rounded the North Cape on
Friday, June 29, a contrary wind sprang up, and we have been beating
about, tacking between North Cape and Cape Brett ever since. Fine
sunny weather and light winds, but always from the south. To me it
is a matter of entire indifference; I am quite ready to go ashore,
but do not mind a few more days at sea. The climate is delightful,
thermometer on deck 55° to 60°, and such glorious sunsets! There is
really something peculiar in the delicacy of the colours here--faint
pink and blue, and such an idea of distance is given by the great
transparency of the air. It is full moon too now, and I walk the
deck from eleven to twelve every night with no great-coat, thinking
about you all and my future work. Last night the Bishop was with me,
and told me definitely about my occupation for the time to come. All
day we have been slowly, very slowly, passing along from the north
headland of the Bay of Islands to Cape Brett, and along the land
south of it. A fine coast it is, full of fine harbours and creeks,
the bay itself like a large Torbay, only bolder. Due south of us is
the Bream headland, then the Barrier Islands. We are only about a
mile from the shore, and refreshing it is to look at it; but as yet
we have seen no beach; the rock runs right into the sea. Such bustle
and excitement on board! emigrants getting their things ready,
carpenters making the old "Duke" look smart, sailors scrubbing, but
no painting going on, to our extreme delight. It is so calm, quite
as smooth as a small lake; indeed there is less perceptible motion
than I have felt on the Lake of Como. No backs, no bones aching,
though here I speak for others more than for myself, for the Bishop
began his talk last night by saying, "One great point is decided,
that you are a good sailor. So far you are qualified for
Melanesia."'

To this may be added that Patteson had been farther preparing for
this work by a diligent study of the Maori language, and likewise of
navigation; and what an instructor he had in the knowledge of the
coasts may be gathered from the fact that an old sea captain living
at Kohimarama sent a note to St. John's College stating that he was
sure that the Bishop had come, for he knew every vessel that had ever
come into Auckland harbour, and was sure this barque had never been
there before; yet she had come in the night through all the intricate
passages, and was rounding the heads without a pilot on board. He
therefore concluded that the Bishop must be on board, as there was no
other man that could have taken command of her at such a time, and
brought her into that harbour.

The Bishop and Mrs. Selwyn went on shore as soon as possible;
Patteson waited till the next day. Indeed he wrote on July 5 that he
was in no hurry to land, since he knew no one in the whole
neighbourhood but Archdeacon Abraham. Then he describes the aspect
of Auckland from the sea:--

'It looks much like a small sea-side town, but not so substantially
built, nor does it convey the same idea of comfort and wealth; rude
warehouses, &c., being mixed up with private houses on the beach.
The town already extends to a distance of perhaps half a mile on each
side of this cove, on which the principal part of it is built. Just
in the centre of the cove stands the Wesleyan chapel. On the rising
ground on the east of the cove is the Roman Catholic chapel, and on
the west side is St. Paul's Church, an Early English stone building,
looking really ecclesiastical and homelike. The College, at a
distance of about five miles from the town, on some higher ground,
northwest of it, is reached from the harbour by a boat ascending a
creek to within a mile of the buildings, so that we shall not go into
the town at all when we land. By water too will be our shortest, at
all events our quickest way from the college to the town.

'July 9, St. John's College.--Though we reached harbour on July 5,
and landed the next day, I have scarcely found a minute to write a
line. Imagine my feelings as I touched land and jumped ashore at a
creek under Judge Martin's house, in the presence of Rota Waitoa, the
only native clergyman in the diocese; Levi, who is perhaps to be
ordained, and four or five other natives. Tena ra fa koe e ho a?
"How are you, my friends?" (the common New Zealand greeting), said I
as I shook hands with them one by one. We walked up from the beach
to the house. Roses in full flower, and mimosa with a delicate
golden flower, and various other shrubs and flowers in full bloom.
Midwinter, recollect. The fragrance of the air, the singing of the
birds, the fresh smell (it was raining a little and the grass was
steaming) were delicious, as you may suppose. Here I was, all at
once, carrying up baggage, Maoris before and behind, and everything
new and strange, and yet I felt as if it were all right and natural.
The Bishop and Mrs. Selwyn had landed the day before, and we were
heartily welcomed. Mr. Martin took me into his study. "I am
thankful to see you as a fresh labourer among us here; a man of your
name needs no introduction to a lawyer." Nothing could exceed his
kindness. He began talking of at once.

'We dined at about 12.30. Clean mutton chops, potatoes and pumpkin
(very good indeed), jam pudding, bread, and plenty of water (beer I
refused). It did taste so good, I am quite ashamed of thinking about
it. About two o'clock I started with the Bishop for the College,
nearly six miles from Auckland.

'The Bishop is at a kind of collegiate establishment on the outskirts
of Auckland, where Mr. Kissling, a clergyman, is the resident, and
thither I go on Wednesday, to live till October 1, when we start,
please God, in the "Southern Cross" for the cruise around New
Zealand. Here, at Mr. Kissling's, I shall have work with Maoris,
learning each day, I trust, to speak more correctly and fluently.
Young men for teachers, and it may be for clergymen, will form at
once my companions and my pupils, a good proportion of them being
nearly or quite of my own age. I am to be constantly at the Judge's,
running in and out, working on Sundays anywhere as I may be sent. So
much for myself.

'The College is really all that is necessary for a thoroughly good
and complete place of education; the hall all lined with kauri pine
wood, a large handsome room, collegiate, capable of holding two
hundred persons; the school-room, eighty feet long, with admirable
arrangements for holding classes separately. There are two very cosy
rooms, which belong to the Bishop and Mrs. Selwyn respectively, in
one of which I am now sitting.... On the walls are hanging about
certain tokens of Melanesia in the shape of gourds, calabashes, &c.,
such as I shall send you one day; a spade on one side, just as a
common horse halter hanging from Abraham's bookshelf, betokens
colonial life. Our rooms are quite large enough, bigger than my room
at Feniton, but no furniture, of course, beyond a bedstead, a table
for writing, and an old bookcase; but it is never cold enough to care
about furniture... I clean, of course, my room in part, make my bed,
help to clear away things after meals, &c., and am quite accustomed
to do without servants for anything but cooking. There is a weaving
room, which used to be well worked, a printing press (from C. M. S.)
which has done some good work, and is now at work again--English,
Maori, Greek and Hebrew types. Separate groups of buildings, which
once were filled with lads from different Melanesian isles--farm
buildings, barns, &c. Last of all, the little chapel of kauri wood,
stained desk, like the inside of a really good ecclesiastical
building in England, porch S.W. angle, a semicircular apse at the
west, containing a large handsome stone font, open seats of course.
The east end very simple, semicircular apse, small windows all full
of stained glass, raised one step, no rails, the Bishop's chair on
the north side, bench on the south. Here my eye and my mind rested
contentedly and peacefully. The little chapel, holding about seventy
persons, is already dear to me. I preached in it last night at the
seven o'clock service. We chanted the Unity Psalms CXXII, CXXIII,
CXXIV, and CL, heartily, all joining to a dear old double chant in
parts. I felt my heart very full as I spoke to them of the
blessedness of prayer and spiritual communion. I was at Tamaki in
the morning, where I read prayers, the Archdeacon preaching. A
little stone church, very rude and simple, but singing again good,
and congregation of fifty-one, attentive. At Panmure, about three
miles off, in the afternoon, a tiny wooden church--where Abraham took
all the duty. In the evening, in the chapel, he read prayers, and I
preached to about thirty-five or forty people. We left the chapel
just as you were getting ready for breakfast, and so passed my first
Sunday in New Zealand. To-day I have had hard work; I walked with
Abraham to Auckland--six miles of rough work, I promise you, except
the two last.

I believe it was in the course of this walk that Patteson
experimented on his Maori, a native whom they visited, and who
presently turned upon the Archdeacon, and demanded, 'Why do you not
speak like Te Pattihana?' Such a compliment has seldom been paid on
so early an attempt at colloquialism in a new language. Journal
continues:--

'Lugged down boxes, big empty ones, from the Judge's house to the
beach. Went with the Bishop to the old ship, packed up books,
brought away all our things almost, helped to pack them in a cart and
drag, and then walked back to the College, which I reached in the
dark at 7.30. It is delightful to see the delight of the natives
when they see the Bishop. "E--h te Pikopa!" and then they all come
round him like children, laughing and talking. Two common men we met
on Friday from Rotoma, 150 miles off, who said that their tribe had
heard that the Queen of England had taken away his salary, and they
had been having subscriptions for him every Sunday. They are of
various shades of colour, some light brown, some nearly black, and
some so tattooed all over that you can't tell what colour they are.
I was talking to-day to the best of my power with a native teacher
upon whose face I could not see one spot as big as a shilling that
was not tattooed, beautifully done in a regular pattern, one side
corresponding to the other. Each tribe, as it is said (I know not
how truly), has a pattern of its own; so they wear their coats-of-
arms on their faces, that is all. The young Christian natives are
not tattooed at all, and I have been to-day with Sydney, whose father
was the great fighting man of Honghi (miscalled Shanghi) who was
presented to George IV. This young man's father helped to
exterminate a whole tribe who lived on a part of the College property
(as it is now), and he is said to be perhaps the first New Zealander
who was baptized as an infant. I find it hard to understand them;
they speak very indistinctly--not fast, but their voices are thick in
general. I hope to learn a good deal before October. My first
letter from the ends of the world tells of my peace of mind, of one
sound and hearty in body, and, I thank God, happy, calm, and cheerful
in spirit.'

'July 11, 1855; St. John's College, Auckland.

'My dear Fan,--I do not doubt that I am where I ought to be; I do
think and trust that God has given me this work to do; but I need
earnest prayers for strength that I may do it. It is no light work
to be suddenly transplanted from a quiet little country district,
where every one knew me, and the prestige of dear Father's life and
your active usefulness among the people made everything smooth for
me, to a work exceeding in magnitude anything that falls to the lot
of an ordinary parish priest in England--in a strange land, among a
strange race of men, in a newly forming and worldly society, with no
old familiar notions and customs to keep the machine moving; and then
to be made acquainted with such a mass of information respecting
Church government and discipline, educational schemes, conduct of
clergy and teachers, etc., etc. It is well that I am hearty and
sound in health, or I should be regularly overwhelmed with it. Two
texts I think of constantly: "Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do
it with thy might." "Sufficient for the day," etc. I hardly dare
look forward to what my work may be on earth; I cannot see my way;
but I feel sure that He is ordering it all, and I try to look on
beyond the earth, when at length, by God's mercy, we may all find
rest.

'That I have been so well in body and so cheerful in mind ever since
I left home--I mean cheerful on the whole, not without seasons of
sadness, but so mercifully strengthened at all times--must, I think,
without any foolish enthusiasm, be remembered by me as a special act
of God's goodness and mercy. I was not the least weary of the sea.
Another month or two would have made very little difference to me, I
think. I am very fond of it, and I think of my voyages to come
without any degree of dread from that cause, and I have no reason to
expect any great discomfort from any other. I have my whole stock of
lemon syrup and lime juice, so that the salt meat on the "Southern
Cross" will be counteracted in that way; and going round those
islands we shall be ashore every few days. But what most surprises
me is this: that when I am alone, as here at night in a great (for it
is large) cheerless, lonely room, as I should have thought it once;
though I can't help thinking of my own comforts at home, and all dear
faces around me, though I feel my whole heart swelling with love to
you all, still I am not at all sad or gloomy, or cast down. This
does surprise me: I did not think it would or could be so. I have
indeed prayed for it, but I had not faith to believe that my prayer
would be so granted. The fact itself is most certain. I have at
Alfington, when alone of an evening, experienced a greater sense of
loneliness than I have once done out here. Of this hitherto I feel
no doubt: it may be otherwise any day of course; and to what else can
I attribute this fact, in all soberness of mind, but to the mercy of
God in strengthening me for my work? Much of it may be the effect of
a splendid climate upon my physique, that is true; for indeed to find
flowers in full blossom, green meadows, hot suns, birds singing,
etc., in midwinter, with a cool, steady breeze from the sea
invigorating me all the while, is no doubt just what I require; but
to-day we have a north-easter, which answers to your south-west wind,
with pouring rain, and yet my spirits are not going down with the
barometer. All the same, the said barometer will probably soon
recover himself; for I believe these heavy storms seldom last long.
There is no fire in the room where I sit, which is the Bishop's room
when he is here; no fire-place indeed, as it opens into Mrs. Selwyn's
room. The thermometer is 58°, and it is midwinter.'