Books: Life of John Coleridge Patteson

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

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'There remains to be noticed one most effectual means of doing good.
After evening school, the Bishop, his clergy, and his aides, retire
mostly into their own rooms. Then, quietly and shyly, on this night
or the other night, one or two, three or four of the more intelligent
of the black boys steal silently up to the Bishop's side, and by fits
and starts, slowly, often painfully, tell their feelings, state their
difficulties, ask for help, and, I believe, with God's blessing,
rarely fail to find it. They are not gushing as negroes, but shy as
Englishmen; we Englishmen ought, indeed, to have a fellow-feeling for
these poor black boys and help them with all our hearts.

'Such is the routine for five of the six work days. Saturday is
whole holiday, and all hands go to fish if the sea permits; if not,
to play rounders or what not. Merry lads they are, as ever gladdened
an English playground.

'On Sunday, the early Chapel is omitted. The full Liturgy is divided
into two services--I forget the laws--and a kind of sermon in Mota is
given; and in the afternoon, the Bishop, or one of the ordained
members of the Mission, usually goes down to the town to relieve Mr.
Nobbs in his service for the Pitcairners.

'As regards the manual work of the station, this general principle is
observed--women for washing and house-work; the men for planting and
out-of-door work; but no one, white or black, is to be too grand to
do his share. The Bishop's share, indeed, is to study and
investigate and compare the languages and necessary translations, but
no one is to be above manual labour. No one, because he is a white
man, is to say, "Here, black fellow, come and clean my boots."
"Here, black people, believe that I have come to give you a treasure
of inestimable price. Meantime, work for me, am I not your superior?
Can I not give you money, calico, what not?"

'This Christian democracy, if I may so call it, has worked well in
the long run.'

This observer does seem to have entered well into the spirit of the
place; and there can be no doubt that the plan and organisation of
the Mission had by this time been well tested and both found
practicable, and, as at present worked, more than ordinarily
successful. The college was in full working order, with a staff of
clergy, all save one formed under the Bishop, one native deacon and
two teachers living with their wives in a population that was fast
becoming moulded by the influence of Christianity, many more being
trained up, and several more islands in course of gradual preparation
by the same process as was further advanced in Mota.

Such were the achievements which could be thankfully recounted by the
end of 1869.

CHAPTER XII.

THE LAST EIGHTEEN MONTHS. 1870-1871.

The prosperous days of every life pass away at last. Suffering and
sorrow, failure and reverse are sure to await all who live out
anything like their term of years, and the missionary is perhaps more
liable than other men to meet with a great disappointment. 'Success
but signifies vicissitude,' and looking at the history of the growth
of the Church, it is impossible not to observe that almost in all
cases, immediately upon any extensive progress, there has followed
what seems like a strong effort of the Evil One at its frustration,
either by external persecution, reaction of heathenism, or, most
fatally and frequently during the last 300 years, from the reckless
misdoings of unscrupulous sailors and colonists. The West Indies,
Japan, America, all have the same shameful tale to tell--what wonder
if the same shadow were to be cast over the Isles of the South?

It is one of the misfortunes, perhaps the temptations of this modern
world, that two of its chief necessaries, sugar and cotton, require a
climate too hot for the labour of men who have intelligence enough to
grow and export them on a large scale, and who are therefore
compelled, as they consider, to employ the forced toil of races able
to endure heat. The Australian colony of Queensland is unfit to
produce wheat, but well able to grow sugar, and the islands of Fiji,
which the natives have implored England to annex, have become the
resort of numerous planters and speculators. There were 300 white
inhabitants in the latter at the time of the visit of the 'Curacoa'
in 1865. In 1871 the numbers were from 5,000 to 6,000. Large sheep
farms have been laid out, and sugar plantations established.

South Sea Islanders are found to have much of the negro toughness and
docility, and, as has been seen, when away from their homes they are
easily amenable, and generally pleasant in manner, and intelligent.
Often too they have a spirit of enterprise, which makes them willing
to leave home, or some feud with a neighbour renders it convenient.
Thus the earlier planters did not find it difficult to procure
willing labourers, chiefly from those southern New Hebrides,
Anaiteum, Tanna, Erromango, &c., which were already accustomed to
intercourse with sandal-wood traders, had resident Scottish or London
missionaries, and might have a fair understanding of what they were
undertaking.

The Fiji islanders themselves had been converted by Wesleyan
Missionaries, and these, while the numbers of imported labourers were
small, did not think ill of the system, since it provided the
islanders with their great need, work, and might give them habits of
industry. But in the years 1868 and 1869 the demand began, both in
Queensland and Fiji, to increase beyond what could be supplied by
willing labour, and the premium, £8 a head, on an able-bodied black,
was sufficient to tempt the masters of small craft to obtain the
desired article by all possible means. Neither in the colony nor in
Fiji were the planters desirous of obtaining workers by foul means,
but labour they must have, and they were willing to pay for it.
Queensland, anxious to free herself from any imputation of slave-
hunting, has drawn up a set of regulations, requiring a regular
contract to be made with the natives before they are shipped, for so
many years, engaging that they shall receive wages, and be sent home
again at the end of the specified time. No one denies that when once
the labourer has arrived, these rules are carried out; he is well
fed, kindly treated, not over worked, and at the end of three or five
years sent home again with the property he has earned.

A recent traveller has argued that this is all that can be desired,
and that no true friend of the poor islander can object to his being
taught industry and civilisation. Complaints are all 'missionary
exaggeration,' that easy term for disposing of all defence of the
dark races, and as to the difficulty of making a man, whose language
is not understood, understand the terms of a contract--why, we
continually sign legal documents we do not understand! Perhaps not,
but we do understand enough not to find ourselves bound to five
years' labour when we thought we were selling yams, or taking a
pleasure trip. And we have some means of ascertaining the
signification of such documents, and of obtaining redress if we have
been deceived.

As to the boasted civilisation, a sugar plantation has not been found
a very advanced school for the American or West Indian negro, and as
a matter of fact, the islander who has fulfilled his term and comes
home, bringing tobacco, clothes, and fire-arms, only becomes a more
dangerous and licentious savage than he was in his simplicity. It is
absolutely impossible, even if the planters wished it, to give any
instruction to these poor fellows, so scattered are the settlements,
so various the languages on each, and to send a man home with guns
and gunpowder, and no touch of Christian teaching, is surely suicidal
policy.

Yet, as long as the natives went in any degree willingly, though the
Missionaries might deplore their so doing for the men's own sakes,
and for that of their islands, it was only like a clergyman at home
seeing his lads engage themselves to some occupation more undesirable
than they knew. Therefore, the only thing that has been entreated
for by all the missions of every denomination alike in the South
Seas, has been such sufficient supervision of the labour traffic as
may prevent deceit or violence from being used.

For, in the years 1869 and 1870, if not before, the captains of the
labour ships, finding that a sufficient supply of willing natives
could not be procured, had begun to cajole them on board. When they
went to trade, they were thrust under hatches, and carried off, and
if the Southern New Hebrides became exhausted, and the labour ships
entered on those seas where the 'Southern Cross' was a welcome
visitor, these captains sometimes told the men that 'the Bishop gave
no pipes and tobacco, he was bad, they had better hold with them.'
Or else 'the Bishop could not come himself, but had sent this vessel
to fetch them.' Sometimes even a figure was placed on deck dressed
in a black coat, with a book in his hand, according to the sailors'
notion of a missionary, to induce the natives to come on deck, and
there they were clapped under hatches and carried off.

In 1870, H.M.S. 'Rosario,' Captain Palmer, brought one of these
vessels, the 'Daphne,' into Sydney, where the master was tried for
acts of violence, but a conviction could not be procured, and, as
will be seen in the correspondence, Bishop Patteson did not regret
the failure, as he was anxious that ships of a fair size, with
respectable owners, should not be deterred from the traffic, since
the more it became a smuggling, unrecognised business, the worse and
more unscrupulous men would be employed in it.

But decoying without violence began to fail; the natives were
becoming too cautious, so the canoes were upset, and the men picked
up while struggling in the water. If they tried to resist, they were
shot at, and all endeavours at a rescue were met with the use of
firearms.

They were thus swept off in such numbers, that small islands lost
almost all their able-bodied inhabitants, and were in danger of
famine for want of their workers. Also, the Fiji planters, thinking
to make the men happier by bringing their wives, desired that this
might be done, but it was not easy to make out the married couples,
nor did the crews trouble themselves to do so, but took any woman
they could lay hands on. Husbands pursued to save the wives, and
were shot down, and a deadly spirit of hatred and terror against all
that was white was aroused.

There is a still lower depth of atrocity, but as far as enquiry of
the Government at Sydney can make out, unconnected with labour
traffic, but with the tortoise-shell trade. Skulls, it will be
remembered, were the ornament of old Iri's house at Bauro, and skulls
are still the trophies in the more savage islands. It seems that
some of the traders in tortoise-shell are in the habit of assisting
their clients by conveying them in their vessels in pursuit of heads.
There is no evidence that they actually do the work of slaughter
themselves, though suspicion is strong, but these are the 'kill-kill'
vessels in the patois of the Pacific, while the kidnappers are the
'snatch-snatch.' Both together, these causes were working up the
islanders to a perilous pitch of suspicion and exasperation during
the years 1870, 1871, and thus were destroying many of the best hopes
of the fruit of the toils of all these years. But the full extent of
the mischief was still unknown in Norfolk Island, when in the midst
of the Bishop's plans for the expedition of 1870 came the illness
from which he never wholly recovered.

Already he had often felt and spoken of himself as an elderly man.
Most men of a year or two past forty are at the most vigorous period
of their existence, generally indeed with the really individual and
effective work of their lives before them, having hitherto been only
serving their apprenticeship; but Coleridge Patteson had begun his
task while in early youth, and had been obliged to bear at once
responsibility and active toil in no ordinary degree. Few have had
to be at once head of a college, sole tutor and steward, as well as
primary schoolmaster all at once, or afterwards united these charges
with those of Bishop, examining chaplain and theological professor,
with the interludes of voyages which involved intense anxiety and
watchfulness, as well as the hardships of those unrestful nights in
native huts, and the exhaustion of the tropical climate. No wonder
then that he was already as one whose work was well-nigh done, and to
whom rest was near. And though the entrance into that rest was by a
sudden stroke, it was one that mercifully spared the sufferings of a
protracted illness, and even if his friends pause to claim for it the
actual honours (on earth) of martyrdom, yet it was no doubt such a
death as he was most willing to die, full in his Master's service--
such a death as all can be thankful to think of. And for the like-
minded young man who shared his death, only with more of the
bitterness thereof, the spirit in which he went forth may best be
seen in part of a letter written in the January of 1870, just after
his Ordination:--

'The right way must be to have a general idea of what to aim at, and
to make for the goal by what seem, as you go, the best ways, not to
go on a course you fixed to yourself before starting without having
seen it. It is so easy for people to hold theories, and excellent
ones too, of the way to manage or deal with the native races, but the
worst is that when you come to work the theory, the native race will
never be found what it ought to be for properly carrying it out. I
am quite sure that nothing is to be done in a hurry; a good and
zealous man in ignorance and haste might do more harm in one year
than could be remedied in ten. I would not root out a single
superstition until I had something better to put in its place, lest
if all the weeds were rooted up, what had before been fertile should
become desert, barren, disbelieving in anything. Is not the right
way to plant the true seed and nourish it that it may take root, and
out-grow and choke the weeds? My objection to Mission reports has
always been that the readers want to hear of "progress," and the
writers are thus tempted to write of it, and may they not, without
knowing it, be at times hasty that they may seem to be progressing?
People expect too much. Those do so who see the results of Mission
work, who are engaged in it; those do so who send them. We have the
precious seed to sow, and must sow it when and where we can, but we
must not always be looking out to reap what we have sown. We shall
do that "in due time" if we "faint not." Because missionary work
looks like a failure, it does not follow that it is.

'Our Saviour, the first of all Christian Missionaries, was thirty
years of His life preparing and being prepared for His work. Three
years He spake as never man spake, and did not His work at that time
look a failure? He made no mistakes either in what He taught or the
way of teaching it, and He succeeded, though not to the eyes of men.
Should not we be contented with success like His? And with how much
less ought we not to be contented! So! The wonder is that by our
means any result is accomplished at all.'

These are remarkable words for a young man of twenty-seven, full of
life, health, and vigour, and go far to prove the early ripening of a
spirit chastened in hopes, even while all was bright.

In the latter part of February, Bishop Patteson, after about six days
of warning, was prostrated by a very severe attack of internal
inflammation, and for three days--from the 20th to the 22nd--was in
considerable danger as well as suffering. Mr. Nobbs's medical
knowledge seems, humanly speaking, to have brought him through, and
on the 28th, when an opportunity occurred of sending letters, he was
able to write a note to his brother and sisters--weak and shattered-
looking writing indeed, but telling all that needed to be told, and
finishing with 'in a few days (D.V.) I may be quite well;' then in a
postscript: 'Our most merciful Father, Redeemer and Sanctifier is
merciful indeed. There was a time when I felt drawing near the dark
valley, and I thought of Father, Mother, of Uncle Frank, and our
little ones, Frankie and Dolly,'--a brother and sister who had died
in early infancy.

But it was not the Divine will that he should be well in a few days.
Day after day he continued feeble; and suffering much, though not so
acutely as in the first attack, Mr. Nobbs continued to attend him,
and the treatment was approved afterwards by the physicians
consulted. All the clergy took their part in nursing, and the
Melanesian youths in turn watched him day and night. He did not
leave his room till the beginning of April, and then was only equal
to the exertion of preparing two lads for Baptism and a few more for
Confirmation. On Easter Sunday he was able to baptize the first
mentioned, and confirm the others; and, the 'Southern Cross' having
by this time arrived for the regular voyage, he embarked in her to
obtain further advice at Auckland.

Lady Martin, his kind and tender hostess and nurse, thus describes
his arrival:--

'We had heard of his illness from himself and others, and of his
being out of danger in the middle of March. We were therefore much
surprised when the "Southern Cross," which had sailed a fortnight
before for Norfolk Island, came into the harbour on the morning of
the 25th of April, and anchored in our bay with the Bishop's flag
flying. We went down to the beach with anxious hearts to receive the
dear invalid, and were greatly shocked at his appearance. His beard,
which he had allowed to grow since his illness, and his hair were
streaked with grey; his complexion was very dark, and his frame was
bowed like an old man's.

'The Captain and Mr. Bice almost carried him up the hill to our
house. He was very thankful to be on shore, and spoke cheerfully
about the improvement he had made on the voyage. It was not very
apparent to us who had not seen him for two years. Even then he was
looking worn and ill, but still was a young active man. He seemed
now quite a wreck. For the first fortnight his faithful attendant
Malagona slept in his room, and was ready at all hours to wait upon
his beloved Bishop. Day by day he used to sit by the fire in an easy
chair, too weak to move or to attend to reading. He got up very
early, being tired of bed. His books and papers were all brought
out, but he did little but doze.'

Yet, in his despatch of the 2nd of May, where the manuscript is as
firm, clear, and beautiful as ever, only somewhat less minute, he
says that he had improved wonderfully on the voyage, though he adds
that the doctor told him, 'At an office, they would insure your life
at fifty, instead of forty-three years of age.'

Dr. Goldsboro had, on examination, discovered a chronic ailment, not
likely, with care and treatment, to be dangerous to life, but
forbidding active exertion or horse exercise, and warning him that a
sudden jar or slip or fall on rugged ground would probably bring on
acute inflammation, which might prove fatal after hours of suffering.

After, in the above-mentioned letter, communicating his exact state,
he adds:--'The pain has been at times very severe, and yet I can't
tell you of the very great happiness and actual enjoyment of many of
those sleepless nights; when, perhaps at 2 A.M., I felt the pain
subsiding, and prayer for rest, if it were His will, was changed into
thanksgiving for the relief; then, as the fire flickered, came
restful, peaceful, happy thoughts, mingled with much, I trust, heart-
felt sorrow and remorse. And Psalms seemed to have a new meaning,
and prayers to be so real, and somehow there was a sense of a very
near Presence, and I felt almost sorry when it was 5.30, and I got
up, and my kind Melanesian nurse made me my morning cup of weak tea,
so good to the dry, furred tongue.

'Well, that is all past and gone; and now the hope and prayer is,
that when my time is really come, I may be better prepared to go.

'Sir William and Lady Martin are pretty well; and I am in clover
here, getting real rest, and gaining ground pretty well. I have all
confidence in the prudence of the other missionaries and leave the
work thankfully in their hands, knowing well Whose work it is, and to
Whose guidance and protection we all trust.'

On the 9th, in a letter sent by a different route, he adds:--

'So I think it will come to my doing my work on Norfolk Island just
as usual, with only occasional inconvenience or discomfort. But I
think I shall have to forego some of the more risky and adventurous
part of the work in the islands. This is all right. It is a sign
that the time is come for me to delegate it to others. I don't mean
that I shall not take the voyages, and stop about on the islands
(D.V.) as before. But I must do it all more carefully, and avoid
much that of old I never thought about. Yet I think it will not, as
a matter of fact, much interfere with my work.

'I have, you understand, no pain now, only some discomfort. The fact
that I can't do things, move about, &c., like a sound healthy person
is not a trial. The relief from pain, the _resty_ feeling, is such a
blessing and enjoyment that I don't seem, as yet at all events, to
care about the other.'

So of that restful state Lady Martin says: 'Indeed it was a most
happy time to us, and I think on the whole to him. It was a new
state of things to keep him without any pricks of conscience or
restlessness on his part. He liked to have a quiet half-hour by the
fire at night; and before I left him I used to put his books near
him: his Bible, his Hebrew Psalter, his father's copy of Bishop
Andrewes. Sometimes I would linger for a few minutes to talk about
his past illness. He used to dwell specially on his dear father's
nearness to him at that time. He spoke once or twice with a reverent
holy awe and joy of sleepless nights, when thoughts of God had filled
his soul and sustained him.

'His face, always beautiful from the unworldly purity of its
expression, was really as the face of an angel while he spoke of
these things and of the love and kindness he had received. He seemed
to have been standing on the very brink of the river, and it was yet
doubtful whether he was to abide with us. Now, looking back, we can
see how mercifully God was dealing with His servant. A time of quiet
and of preparation for death given to him apart from the hurry of his
daily life, then a few months of active service, and then the crown.

'At the end of a fortnight (?--you must please to rectify dates) the
"Southern Cross" sailed again, with Mr. Bice and Malagona on board;
when, just as we were expecting she would have reached Norfolk
Island, she was driving back into the harbour.'

The following letter to the Bishop of Lichfield gives an account of
her peril:--

'Taurarua: May 11, 1870.

'My dear Bishop,--I have to tell you of another great mercy. The
"Southern Cross" left Auckland on May 3--fair wind and fine weather.

'On May 5 she was within 185 miles of Norfolk Island.

'Then came on a fearful gale from the east and northeast to north-
west. They were hove-to for three days, everything battened down;
port boat and davits carried away by a sea; after a while the
starboard boat dashed to pieces.

'Malagona, my nurse at Norfolk Island, who was brought up for a
treat, was thrown completely across the cabin by one lurch, when she
seemed almost settling down. It was dark. The water in the cabin,
which had come through the dead-light, showed a little phosphoric
glimmer. "Brother," he said to Bice, "are we dying?" "I don't know;
it seems like it. We are in God's hands." "Yes, I know."

'Mr. (Captain) Jacobs was calm and self-possessed. He even behaved
excellently. Once, all on deck were washed into the lee scuppers,
and one man washed overboard; but he held a rope, and with it and the
recoil was borne in again upon the deck. Lowest barometer, 28° 65'!
We were startled yesterday at about 4 P.M. with the news of the
reappearance of the vessel. I think that some £30 and the replacing
the boats will pay damages, but one doesn't think of that.

'We hope to get, at all events, one ready-made boat, so as to cause
no delay. The good people at Norfolk Island will be anxious if the
vessel does not reappear soon.

'Auckland, June 6th--"Southern Cross" could not sail till May 23. If
I am not found by them at Norfolk Island on their return, they are to
come on for me. I hope to make a two months' cruise.

'General health quite well, no pain for weeks past. Dr. Goldsboro'
says I shall be better in a hot climate; but he won't let me out of
his hands yet.

'I really think I shall do very well by-and-by.

'Your very affectionate

'J. C. PATTESON.'

'The repairs took some time (continues Lady Martin). The delay must
have been very trying to the Bishop in his weak state, as it threw
out all the plans for the winter voyage; but he showed no signs of
fretfulness or of a restless desire to go himself to see after
matters. The winter was unusually cold after the vessel sailed
again; and I used to wonder sometimes whether he lay awake listening
to the wind that howled in gusts round the house; he may have, but
certainly there was always a look of unruffled calm and peace on his
face when we met in the morning.