| By Author | [ A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z | Other Symbols ] |
| By Title | [ A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z | Other Symbols ] |
| By Language |
|
Download this book: [ ASCII ] Look for this book on Amazon Tweet |
Title: Mutiny of the Bounty and story of Pitcairn Island, 1790-1894
Author: Young, Rosalind
Language: English
As this book started as an ASCII text book there are no pictures available.
*** Start of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "Mutiny of the Bounty and story of Pitcairn Island, 1790-1894" ***
STORY OF PITCAIRN ISLAND, 1790-1894 ***
Transcriber’s Notes
Hyphenation has been standardised.
Changes made are noted at the end of the book.
In the Text version of the Transcriber’s Notes at the end of the book,
the = around the words, e.g. =Pitcairn= indicates bold.
Footnote anchors are denoted by [number] instead of the letter A which
was used throughout the book.
The hand-drawn chapter header illustrations have been replicated as
shown in the original.
[Illustration: PITCAIRN ISLAND.]
Mutiny of the Bounty
and
Story of Pitcairn Island
1790-1894
By
Rosalind Amelia Young
A Native Daughter
_Seventh Printing_
PUBLISHED BY
PACIFIC PRESS PUBLISHING ASSN.
MOUNTAIN VIEW, CAL.
Kansas City, Mo.——Calgary, Alberta——Portland, Ore.
Entered according to act of Congress, in the year 1894, by
PACIFIC PRESS PUBLISHING CO.
In the office of the Librarian of Congress, Washington, D. C.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
TO
CLARA FREEMAN CROCKER,
OF AMERICA,
LAURA P. WHITE,
OF ENGLAND,
And to the many dear friends who have ever shown
an interest in the history of Pitcairn
Island, this little work is
AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED
by the Author.
INTRODUCTION.
Many books have been written on the history of Pitcairn Island, while
magazine articles and newspaper sketches almost without number have
appeared from time to time, treating on some feature of the island or
its history. While there are some points of disagreement between the
different writers, they have in the main given a fairly good history of
the island, and of its condition many years ago, though some of their
statements have been somewhat exaggerated. That it is inevitable that
some errors should creep into such histories may be clearly seen from
the fact that very few of the writers have ever visited the island,
while those who have done so, remained but a short time, and so could
see but one side of life on that isolated spot.
The present work is written by a native of the island, and one who has
practically spent her whole life on the island, a few years of her
childhood only having been spent on Norfolk Island. While her lifetime
does not cover quite one-half of the time covered by the history of the
island, she had access for many years to one at least who remembered
events that occurred before the beginning of the present century. The
author’s father was the second oldest man of the community at the time
of his death, in September, 1893, and was a grandson of John Adams, one
of the mutineers of the _Bounty_, whose death took place in 1829. She
has thus had the best of advantages for obtaining a correct knowledge
of the island history.
The writer of this introduction spent over eighteen months on the
island, leaving there February 9 of the present year, and, as far as
his observation goes, believes that the statements contained in this
book are strictly reliable.
The island, though but a dot on the broad Pacific, being but two and
one-quarter miles long by one and a half miles wide, is an interesting
spot, and its history reads like a romance. Its location is a favorable
one, being about two degrees south of the tropic of Capricorn, for
which reason the weather is never so intensely hot as in some of the
islands of the south seas, and is never cold. Beautiful tropical
trees,—the tall, graceful cocoanut palm, the wide-spreading banyan,
the pandanus palm, and others,—cover its surface from end to end.
Refreshing breezes, cooled and moistened by passing over thousands of
miles of ocean, constantly fan the surface of this lovely isle. It can
be truthfully said of this island that
“Every prospect pleases.”
The people who inhabit this little Eden are half castes, their dark
features and black hair plainly betraying their Tahitian blood, though
some of them have quite light complexion and blue eyes. At present
there are but about one hundred and thirty of the inhabitants. The
kindness and hospitality of this interesting people have been remarked
by all who have ever called at the island.
We believe this little book will be read with profit and delight by all
who are so fortunate as to secure a copy.
E. H. GATES.
_St. Helena, Cal., July 30, 1894._
CONTENTS.
PAGE.
CHAPTER I.
The Bounty and the Mutineers 13
CHAPTER II.
The Arrival at Pitcairn 21
CHAPTER III.
The Mutineers Discovered 32
CHAPTER IV.
The Gem of the Pacific 44
CHAPTER V.
John Buffett and John Evans 54
CHAPTER VI.
George Hun Nobbs. Death of John Adams 65
CHAPTER VII.
Mr. Joshua Hill 75
CHAPTER VIII.
The Flag of Old England 86
CHAPTER IX.
The Queen’s Birthday 96
CHAPTER X.
Visit of H. M. S. _Portland_ 107
CHAPTER XI.
Removal to Norfolk Island 118
CHAPTER XII.
A Goodly Heritage 126
CHAPTER XIII.
Ho! for Pitcairn 137
CHAPTER XIV.
An Unpleasant Surprise 145
CHAPTER XV.
The Second Party Returns 156
CHAPTER XVI.
The Reception 165
CHAPTER XVII.
At Home Again 172
CHAPTER XVIII.
Wreck of the _Cornwallis_ 188
CHAPTER XIX.
Visit of Rear-Admiral de Horsey 201
CHAPTER XX.
Friendly Visits 215
CHAPTER XXI.
The Wreck of the _Oregon_ 224
CHAPTER XXII.
Arrival of Mr. John I. Tay 229
CHAPTER XXIII.
The Missionary Ship _Pitcairn_ 237
APPENDIX 255
ILLUSTRATIONS.
PAGE.
Pitcairn Island Frontispiece
Fletcher Christian’s Birthplace 17
Lieut. Bligh’s Gourd, Cup, Bullet Weight, and Book 20
The Landing Place,—Bounty Bay 27
Bounty Bay from the Cliffs 37
Thursday October Christian 42
Path through Cocoanut Grove 47
Figures Cut in the Rocks at the Rope 49
Morinda Citrifolia 51
The Chapel 57
Group of Island Maidens 62
Rosa, William, John, and Sarah Young 69
Pitcairn Avenue 79
Group of Native Men 89
The Island Sawmill 99
Parliament of Pitcairn Island 109
Group of Native Children 123
The _Pitcairn_ and Man-of-War off Pitcairn Island 129
Family Group of Natives 138
Breadfruit 148
Children and Wheelbarrow 152
Point Lookout 156
Group of Young Men 160
Simon Young and Wife 175
The Mission House 193
Group of Women and Children 207
Girls in Bathing Costume 217
Hattie Andre’s Class 231
Rosa Young’s Class 245
[Illustration]
CHAPTER I.
The Bounty and the Mutineers
TOWARD the close of the eighteenth century, at a time when events
producing the most important results were occurring among some of
the nations of the earth, there was being laid, unconsciously, the
foundation of a history which in all its points could equal, if not
surpass, any tale of fiction.
During the reign of King George Third, of England, the English
Government considered it advisable to introduce, if possible, the
breadfruit into her colonies in the West Indies, and for this purpose
a ship was specially fitted out and provisioned. A small sloop-of-war,
named the _Bounty_, was the one provided, and her internal arrangements
were begun and completed with the view of transferring, with the least
possible injury, the tender plants from their native soil.
On the twenty-ninth day of December, 1787, the _Bounty_ left England,
under orders to proceed to the Society Islands, for the purpose of
procuring plants of the breadfruit tree, to be conveyed to the West
Indies. Lieutenant William Bligh was appointed commander, and about
forty-five persons, including a gardener, made up the crew. Provisions
for eighteen months were put on board.
The different feelings that possessed the minds of the men who were
leaving behind them what they held most sacred and dear on earth, may
be imagined; yet were they doubtless cheered by the thought of one
day meeting again the dear friends at home, when the long separation
was ended. But for the ship, and for some of the crew, it was never
to be, and could the results of that voyage have been foreseen, it is
a question how many of those who then left their native land would
have dared to embark on a journey that was to be fraught with events
so startling in their nature, and that was to end so strangely, that
even at this distant day the story is repeated and listened to with
sustained interest, not only by strangers, but by the immediate
descendants of the misguided men, who themselves fell victims at last
to their own wrongdoing.
The voyage out was safely accomplished, the _Bounty_ having arrived at
Tahiti in the month of October, the year following her departure from
England. Six months were spent at the island collecting and stowing
away the plants, the crew in the meanwhile becoming very friendly with
the natives. A violent storm threatening, Captain Bligh deemed it
prudent to leave. This was in April, 1789.
Leaving Tahiti, the _Bounty_ went on to Anamooka, where Captain Bligh
took in water, fruits, goats, and other live stock, and put to sea
again on the 26th of the same month. It was after leaving the last
mentioned island that some dissatisfaction was first noticed among
the crew. Hitherto, if there had been cause for complaint respecting
the captain’s treatment of those he commanded, it had not been openly
manifested. It has now become matter of history that William Bligh
possessed a tyrannical temper, and frequently had misunderstandings
with his officers and men. This, and the fact that many of the crew had
formed intimate acquaintance with the people of the islands, doubtless
caused them to conceive the plan of seizing the ship, after having
disposed of the officers.
Shortly before the mutiny broke out, one of the men, Fletcher Christian
(master’s mate), incurred the captain’s severe displeasure. It is
said that through the advice of a young officer who perished in the
_Pandora_, Christian first formed the design of mutiny, which was
so effectually carried out. Be that as it may, the night of the
28th of April, 1789, witnessed the outbreak on board the _Bounty_,
as the mutinous crew rose in arms against their captain. Fletcher
Christian, aided by three other men, secured the person of Captain
Bligh. They entered his cabin, and dragged him from his bed. Being soon
overpowered, his hands were pinioned behind him, thus rendering him
helpless in the hands of his captors.
A boat had been made ready to receive the unfortunate Bligh and
those of his companions who were to share his fate, but the share
of provisions allowed them was very small. Owing to the smallness of
the size of the boat, only eighteen men besides the captain ventured
to trust their lives in it. Others would gladly have accompanied the
eighteen, but there was no possibility of obtaining room in the boat,
already too full, and their only alternative was to remain in the ship
with their misguided companions. The boat containing the unfortunate
men being cut adrift was soon headed for the island of Tofoa, about
thirty miles distant, where a landing was effected. The natives there
showed a decidedly hostile spirit, and when made aware of the presence
of the white men, they rushed down to the beach, shooting arrows and
hurling stones at the intruders. A man named John Norton was killed.
The other eighteen hastened to get beyond the reach of their pursuers
and their arrows. Then commenced a voyage attended with so much
hardship and misery in the exposed condition of the voyagers that
even to this day it commands the admiration and excites the wonder
of all who hear. Going over the vast distance of upwards of twelve
hundred leagues, encountering every kind of weather, enduring dreadful
sufferings, hunger, and thirst, these men at last reached the island of
Timor, where was a Dutch settlement. Here they were shown the greatest
hospitality and kindness by the governor. Leaving Timor, they went to
Batavia, where Bligh and some of his officers took passage on a vessel
bound for Europe. They eventually reached England in safety.
[Illustration: MOORLAND CLOSE, CUMBERLAND, THE BIRTHPLACE OF FLETCHER
CHRISTIAN.]
No time was lost in acquainting the English Government with the
disastrous failure of the _Bounty’s_ mission, and, although there were
some among the crew who, at the time of the mutiny, pleaded that no
blame should be attached to them, the result showed that Bligh did not
spare those whose hearts and hands were alike innocent of any wrong
against him. Very soon the _Pandora_, commanded by Captain Edwards, a
man devoid of the humane feelings of kindness and pity, was sent in
search of the men who had so willfully forgotten their duty. Of these
only fourteen were found, eight having accompanied Fletcher Christian,
with the _Bounty_, and two of their number having been killed by
the natives of Tahiti some little while before. These poor men were
conveyed in irons on board the _Pandora_, where they were placed in a
close room, with one small opening to admit light and air. Chained to
the floor, exposed to the most cruel treatment that the mind of the
inhuman Edwards could conceive, enduring the heaviest privations, and
compelled to live in their noisome den from day-to-day without any
means of having it cleansed, the condition of these sufferers can more
readily be imagined than described.
In this cruel position they were forced to exist; and when at last the
_Pandora_ was wrecked on a coral reef, the unfeeling Edwards would not
listen to the piteous pleadings of the prisoners and release them, even
to afford what help they might be able to render in trying to save
the ship. One sailor, however, possessed of humane feelings, would
not willingly let so many of his fellow-creatures perish thus before
his eyes, and, exerting all his strength, succeeded in accomplishing
their release, but not until four of them had perished. On board the
ship that finally conveyed them to England, they were treated as human
beings, and allowed freedom from their chains. Of these ten men “four
were acquitted; one was discharged on account of an informality in
the indictment; the other five were found guilty and were condemned
to death. Of these two received a pardon, and the three others were
executed at Spithead,” from which place they had sailed on their
eventful voyage four years before.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
CHAPTER II.
The Arrival at Pitcairn
DURING all this time where were Christian and the other guilty men
who followed him? After having set the boat containing Bligh and his
companions adrift, Fletcher Christian assumed command of the _Bounty_,
and returned toward Tahiti. The ship was taken first to Toobonai, the
intention of the men being to settle there; but, finding the place
destitute of animals, they went to Tahiti to procure a stock of pigs
and goats. Obtaining what they needed, they returned again to Toobonai,
but found the natives hostile to their landing. Once more, and for the
third and last time, the _Bounty_ was brought to Tahiti, where she
was anchored in Matavai Bay, on the 20th of September, 1789. Sixteen
of the crew here landed, taking with them their share of the arms and
other articles on board the _Bounty_. These were the men, it will be
understood, who were discovered and taken away by the _Pandora_, as
related in the previous chapter.
Leaving at Tahiti that portion of the crew whose choice it was to
remain, Christian, accompanied by eight of his shipmates who decided
to cast in their lot with him, sailed away from Tahiti forever. But
this number was not all, for six of the native men, and ten women,
and a girl of fifteen, were taken on board as wives and servants, the
sailors having determined to seek some place where they could live
secure from the danger of discovery. It is said that Christian, having
seen an account of the discovery of a lone island in the Pacific Ocean,
by Captain Cartaret, in the year 1767, directed the course of the ship
to that place. It was named Pitcairn Island, after the young man who
descried it, he being, as the story goes, a son of the Major Pitcairn
who fell in the Battle of Bunker Hill.
On the twenty-third day of January, 1790, the _Bounty_ reached her
destination. The island, though small, being about five miles in
circumference, and scarcely more than two miles across at its widest
point, was thickly covered with a luxuriant growth of trees.
On coming near enough for a boat to venture, a small party went on
shore to search the land. They effected a landing on the west side of
the island, but, finding that a few yards from the sea the rocks rose
perpendicularly to a forbidding height, and thinking to find a more
convenient place for a settlement, they brought the ship round to the
northeast side of the island. Here they managed to bring their boat
safely to the shore, through perilous rocks and breakers. It did not
take long to discover that the island had been, and perhaps still was,
inhabited, and fears were entertained lest they should be attacked by
hostile natives. Traces of former habitations,—_marais_, stone images,
rude pictures cut in the rocks, stone hatchets, etc., etc.,—were
evident proofs that human beings had once lived on the island, and in
addition to these, several human skulls and other bones were afterward
seen.
As day after day passed, and no one appeared to molest them, the
mutineers began to feel more secure and safe, and preparations were
made for a permanent settlement. Their supply of water, though not
abundant, was sufficient for their requirements, and the plants brought
with them from Tahiti would, in due course of time, be able to supply
their every want. But, first, all trace of the ship must be destroyed.
She was driven near enough to the shore to allow of her being fastened
to a tree by means of a rope. Everything that could be of service to
the settlers was removed. For greater safety, one little child was
brought ashore in a barrel, as the landing place for boats was very
dangerous. When all had been removed from the ship, she was set on
fire, and destroyed.
There were those among the mutineers, if not all, who were grieved
that they should be obliged to destroy the vessel that had been their
home so long. Especially was it so with John Mills, if his daughter’s
testimony is correct, for she never wearied of telling how her
father sorrowed over the destruction of the _Bounty_, as it was his
hope one day to return in her to England, even at the risk of his
life. These fugitives from justice spent the early days of their
settlement on Pitcairn Island in caves, and tents made of canvas, while
their cottages were being built. Here, on this solitary, uninhabited
spot, Christian could, at least, hope to hide himself and his guilty
associates from the extreme penalty of the law.
But no degree of outward security could bring peace to a mind
constantly disturbed with self-accusing thoughts, or still the
reproaches of a conscience burdened with guilt and remorse. Poor,
misguided men! Utterly isolated from the rest of the world, their
only means of communication destroyed, their condition was forlorn
in the extreme. In their outward circumstances they were tolerably
comfortable, as they had brought with them enough of the necessities
of life to sustain them until the land could be made to produce fresh
supplies. Such clothing as they possessed would have to be carefully
kept, and as regarded the native men and women, the simplest covering
sufficed for them. The land was shared out among the Englishmen, their
native servants helping them to cultivate the ground. Salt was obtained
from the small, shallow pools in the rocks, and these rocks were also
shared among them.
For two years a fair degree of prosperity blessed their efforts, but
the comparative peace and success they enjoyed could not be expected to
continue. The first real trouble and disturbance was caused by one of
the mutineers named Williams. His wife had gone out one day among the
cliffs to search for sea birds and eggs. While so doing, she fell and
was killed. Williams, wanting another woman, demanded and obtained the
wife of one of the native men. Wronged and outraged by this scandalous
act, the native men vowed to be revenged on the Englishmen, and a plot
was formed to murder them all. The secret being made known to the
women, they imparted it to the Englishmen, in a song as follows:—
“Why does black man sharpen ax?
To kill white man.”
And now begins a story of oppression, treachery, and bloodshed, that
forms the darkest page in this island’s history. So constant was the
dread experienced by some of the women, that they contrived, in secret,
to construct a rude raft, with the intention of returning to Tahiti, or
be lost in the attempt. They had their raft launched, and ventured a
little way beyond the breakers; but their hearts failed them, and the
entreaties of some of the women left behind, who had found out their
intention, prevailing, they returned to shore again. Hostile feelings
were strong on both sides. The women, however, sided entirely with the
Englishmen. In one instance one of the women deliberately murdered her
native husband, when they were alone together in a cave where they
lived.[1]
[Footnote 1: It is to this that Mr. Nobbs referred when, many years
later, in his song entitled “Pitcairn,” he speaks of the “ghost that
still lingers on Tullaloo’s Ridge.” Tullaloo was the man’s name.]
When some degree of peace had been restored, and the suspicions of
their masters were quieted, the wronged and oppressed Tahitians,
obtaining possession of arms, fell upon the white men while they were
quietly working on their allotments of land, and hunted and shot them
down. Fletcher Christian, John Mills, Isaac Martin, William Brown,
and John Williams were killed. William McCoy and Matthew Quintall
escaped into the woods, while John Adams, having at first escaped into
the woods, on again showing himself, was shot and severely wounded.
Recovering himself, he ran away from his pursuers, and, making for the
rocky cliffs, would have thrown himself off, but those in pursuit, by
sundry signs, showed that they intended no further harm. Being thus
reassured of his safety, he returned with them to one of the houses,
where he was kindly treated. Edward Young, a favorite with the women,
had been concealed by them, and so escaped the dangers to which the
others had been exposed. Thus were the lives of four among the nine
mutineers spared. But peace was not yet to be. How was it possible,
when the men and women that remained practiced freely every vice that
could degrade manhood and womanhood. Treachery and bloodshed still
raged among them, and no one felt his life secure.
[Illustration: THE LANDING PLACE, BOUNTY BAY.]
A story is told of how the death of one of the native men was
accomplished. It was before anyone had been killed. The man, called
by the name of Timiti, had been accused of some wrongdoing, and was
brought before the Englishmen to be tried. Christian, so the story
goes, was, while trying the case, walking backward and forward
through the midst of the assembled company met to see the result of the
trial. Timiti, learning only too well that his sentence would be death,
took the opportunity when Christian was in the act of turning himself
around, to make a spring for the open door. Before his judges could
recover from their surprise, he was too far on his way to be readily
overtaken, and his pursuers were obliged to return without him. Taking
a short cut down towards the sea, he speedily descended the steep
cliffs, and ran across the rocky shore. Swimming across places where no
footpath could be found, and walking the rest of the way, he at length
reached a place on the south side of the island known by the name
of Taowtama. Here he succeeded in hiding himself for a while, until
someone descried him from the heights above, engaged in a favorite
pastime, called _ihara_ (pronounced _e-hurra_).
The news soon spread that Timiti’s hiding place was discovered, and
another native, named Menálee, was sent out to secure him. One of his
companions also went with him, and before long they were at the place.
Timiti, suspecting treachery, would have fled, but the two men, through
their fair speeches and the food they had brought him, quickly disarmed
him of his suspicions. To further assure him they produced a comb, and
prevailed on him to let them comb his hair. Having thus decoyed him
into their power, the rest was easy enough, and a few seconds sufficed
to dispatch the poor fellow.
After the massacre of Christian and his companions the native men
turned upon one another, and the four remaining Englishmen, assisted
by the widows of the murdered white men, joined in ridding the island
of these “disturbers of the peace,” so that in a short time after the
mutineers had been killed every one of the native men was also put to
death.
During the occurrence of these shocking scenes, how must every human
impulse and every kindly feeling have been nearly extinguished! To
add to the dreadful evils that were committed, McCoy, who had been
brought up in a distillery, spent much of his time in distilling ardent
spirits from the roots of the _tee_ plant. Quintall assisted him, his
“teakettle being converted into a still.” These two men succeeded but
too well. Drunkenness was added to the already long list of vices,
and was of frequent occurrence. In McCoy’s case it brought its own
punishment, for in an attack of delirium he made his way to the rocky
shore, and, fastening a stone around his body, cast himself off into
the sea. The dead body was found by a little girl, a daughter of John
Adams, and was brought up to the little settlement and buried.
Quintall, McCoy’s boon companion, met his death at the hands of his
two remaining shipmates. Always disorderly and troublesome, provoking
a quarrel whenever he could, and frequently threatening the lives of
Young and Adams, he became a constant terror to them. As an instance of
his ferocious nature, the story is handed down that one day his wife
went out fishing, and, not succeeding in obtaining enough to satisfy
Quintall, he punished her by biting off her ear.[2] Like Williams, he
also lost his wife, and in the same way, she having fallen from the
rocks when going after birds. Regardless of the fearful consequences
which so quickly followed a crime of the same nature only a short
time before, Quintall demanded the wife of one of his two remaining
companions. Their refusal to comply with his demands determined him to
try to put his oft-repeated threats into execution. Adams and Young,
knowing their lives to be in danger, felt themselves justified in
putting an end to Quintall’s life.
[Footnote 2: Asserted as a fact.]
The opportunity soon came, and one day when he was in John Adams’
house, he was set upon and overpowered by the two other men. By means
of a hatchet the dreadful work of death was soon completed. The
daughter of John Mills (who lived to the age of ninety-three), then
a young girl of eight or nine years of age, was an eyewitness of the
awful deed, and used to relate how terrified were all of the little
band of women and children who beheld the blood-bespattered walls. The
dreadful scene was vividly pictured on her mind and memory through the
long course of more than eighty years.
[Illustration]
CHAPTER III.
The Mutineers Discovered
THE TWO chief causes of trouble and mischief being now removed, there
was prospect of enjoying more tranquillity and peace than had ever
been known before. Of the fifteen males who landed on the island,
only two now remained. These two, Adams and Young, having the whole
responsibility of the young and increasing colony devolving upon
them, arose to the exigency of the case. Young was naturally of a
thoughtful and serious cast of mind, and the scenes which he and Adams
had witnessed, and in which they had participated, had the effect of
deepening the serious impressions that had been made upon them both,
and they resolved to train, as best they could, their own children
and those of their unfortunate companions, in the paths of virtue and
right. Young’s superior education better fitted him for the grave
undertaking; but he did not long survive his repentance. He had long
been afflicted with the asthma, and died of that complaint in the year
1800, about a year after Quintall’s death.
John Adams was now sole survivor. With a deep and abiding repentance
for his former course of life, he strove to amend the misdoings of
years by instilling into the minds of the young and rising generation
around him right principles. Alone and unaided in the gigantic task, he
suffered not his courage to fail in the endeavor, and his earnestness
of purpose, directed in a right channel, could not fail to win some
measure of success. The number of children that had been born to the
mutineers was twenty-three. Fletcher Christian left three children;
John Mills, two; William McCoy, three; Matthew Quintall, five; Edward
Young, six; and John Adams, four. John Williams, a Frenchman, Isaac
Martin, an American, and William Brown, an Englishman, left no children.
John Adams used to relate that it was through the influence of a dream
that he was first led seriously to consider the condition of the
helpless and ignorant youths who were so suddenly and unexpectedly
left on his hands, and to arouse himself to the heavy responsibility
that rested on him, as the only instructor that could be had for
them, totally unfit for the task though he might be. It was a late
beginning, but he engaged in the work with all his heart. A Bible and
prayer book saved from the _Bounty_ were the only means at his command
in teaching the young people to read. But, with the blessing of God
upon his humble efforts, John Adams had the satisfaction of seeing
the children of such disreputable parentage growing up around him,
quiet, peaceable, industrious, and happy, and with an increasing love
of virtue and strict morality. A beautiful feature of the whole was
the love that united them as one family under the fatherly control of
John Adams. Such was the condition of life on Pitcairn Island when, in
1808, Captain Mayhew Folger, of the American ship _Topaz_, accidentally
discovered that the island was inhabited. Following is part of a letter
received by the writer from Mr. Robert Folger (a son of the captain
above named), who kindly gave permission to make use of it. The letter
was dated Massillon, Stark County, Ohio, August 4, 1882. After giving
his reasons for writing, the letter proceeds as follows:—
“My brother, sister, and myself are the only surviving children of
Captain Mayhew Folger, of the ship _Topaz_, of Boston, the discoverer,
in February, 1808, of the colony on Pitcairn’s Island. I do not like
to refer to the survivor of the _Bounty_ crew on the island as a
mutineer, for I cannot help feeling that the cruelty of Bligh to his
men was such as to justify almost anything on the part of the people
on board.... I may now say that I have been for nearly twenty-five
years gathering facts in regard to Pitcairn’s Island.
“I have Bligh’s own account of the mutiny, ‘Delano’s Voyages,’ my
father’s logbook, with his entry therein in his own handwriting,
dated, as I now remember, February 8, 1808—Lady Belcher’s book,
‘The Mutineers of the _Bounty_’—and numerous letters and newspaper
publications.
“If you would like a copy of my father’s journal entry, I shall
have great pleasure in transcribing it, and sending it to you. I
may as well say in advance that he, as a shipmaster, shared in the
general feeling of the world, and shipmasters especially, against the
‘arch-mutineer,’ Christian.
“The history of your island will long, I may say always, be a wonder.
During the sixty years that I remember it, it has been a wonder,
and it will continue to be, as wonders do not decrease in interest.
Three-quarters of a century have gone into the great ocean of time
since Captain Mayhew Folger discovered the colony, and the interest in
the history of the island is unabated. The island cannot be mentioned
without exciting a wonder even in the mind of the unlearned, as to the
history of the colonists, their present status, and, indeed, all that
concerns them.
“In connection with the truth concerning the colonists, there has
been a great deal of error and nonsense published. _Blackwood’s
Magazine_ is not free from being a participant in setting afloat
most senseless statements, which were about twenty-four years since
repeated in this country. There are very few living who can enter into
the _spirit_ of Pitcairn’s history, and, what is to me most singular
and unaccountable, a large number of would-be historians are engaged
in uttering most senseless pretensions to correct the history of the
island, from the arrival of the _Bounty_ until the arrival of the
_Topaz_—a period of twenty years when nothing was known, nor could be
known, of the island, nor was known until the arrival of the _Topaz_
in February, 1808.
“You, undoubtedly, have had access to the account of the mutiny by
Captain Bligh, also to ‘Delano’s Voyages,’ published in 1817, in
which are two letters from Captain Folger, one to Captain Delano, and
one to the Lords of the Admiralty, R. N., and which was received
by them through Rear-Admiral Hotham, who, in 1813, was, I think, in
command of the English blockading squadron on our coast in the War of
1812.... It was through Rear-Admiral Hotham that my father sent the
Azimuth compass, and within five years last past I have noticed in
some publication (I cannot state what one) that Her Majesty’s navy had
obtained the _Bounty’s_ chronometer, which was taken from my father at
Valparaiso when his vessel was confiscated by the Spanish governor of
Chile when he reached the South American Coast, after having visited
Pitcairn’s Island.
“As your grandfather, Mr. Buffett, mentions ‘Delano’s Voyages,’ I
suppose you too have read that, in many respects, curious book. In
the main, the portion which refers to my father is correct. Captain
Delano visited my father at Kendal in 1817.... In reading Mr. Delano’s
book you will find a letter to the Lords of the Admiralty dated at
Kendal.... If I were to write a history of the island, I could give a
chronological statement that would be in order and critically correct,
as I think I have in my library every date from the discovery of the
island in 1767, by Captain Cartaret, of H. B. M. ship _Swallow_, to
the present time....
“Since writing the foregoing, I concluded to copy all the entries from
my father’s logbook in which the island is mentioned....
“‘Ship _Topaz_, of Boston, Mayhew Folger master, on a sealing voyage
to the South Pacific Ocean, 1808.
“‘Saturday, 6th February.—First part light airs at east, steering
west by south, half south by compass. At ½ past on P. M. saw land
bearing southwest by west half west. Steered for the land with a light
breeze at east, the said land being Pitcairn’s Island, discovered
in 1767 by Captain Cartaret in his Britannic Majesty’s sloop
_Swallow_. A 2 A. M. the isle bore south two leagues distant. Lay off
and on till daylight. At 6 A. M. put off with two boats to explore and
look for seals.
[Illustration: BOUNTY BAY FROM THE CLIFFS.]
“‘On approaching the shore saw a smoke on the land, at which I was
very much surprised, it being represented by Captain Cartaret as
destitute of inhabitants.
“‘On approaching still nearer the land, I discovered a boat paddling
towards me with three men in her. On approaching her, they hailed
me in the English language, asking who was the captain of the ship,
and offered me a number of cocoanuts, which they had brought off as
a present, and requested I would land, there being, as they said, a
white man on shore.
“‘I went on shore and found there an Englishman by the name of
Alexander Smith, the only person remaining out of nine that escaped
on board the ship _Bounty_, Captain Bligh, under the command of that
arch-mutineer, Christian. Smith informed me that, after putting
Captain Bligh in the longboat and sending her adrift, Commander
Christian proceeded to Otaheite. There all the mutineers chose to stop
except Christian himself, Smith, and seven others. They all took wives
at Otaheite, and six men as servants, and proceeded to Pitcairn’s
Island, where they landed all their goods and chattels, ran the ship
_Bounty_ on shore, and broke her up, which took place, as near as
he could recollect, in 1790. Soon after, one of their party ran mad
and drowned himself; another died with a fever, and after they had
remained about four years on the island, their men servants rose
upon them and killed six of them, leaving only Smith alive, and he
desperately wounded, with a pistol ball in the neck. However, he and
the widows of the deceased arose and put all the servants to death,
which left him the only surviving man on the island, with eight or
nine women and several small children. He immediately went to work
tilling the ground, so that it produces plenty for them all, and he
lives very comfortably as commander-in-chief of Pitcairn’s Island.[3]
[Footnote 3: There is a little difference between Captain Folger’s
statement and the real facts of those early days, as handed down
through succeeding generations, from those (especially Susanna, the
girl of fifteen from Tahiti) who were eye-witnesses of the dreadful
scenes that took place, when bloodshed followed treachery in their
dealings between master and servant.]
“‘All the children of the deceased mutineers speak tolerable English;
some of them are grown to the size of men and women; and, to do
them justice, I think them a very humane and hospitable people; and
whatever may have been the errors or crimes of Smith, the mutineer,
in times back, he is at present a worthy man, and may be useful to
navigators who traverse this immense ocean.
“‘Such is the history of Christian and his associates. Be it
remembered that this island is scantily supplied with fresh water,
so that it is impossible for a ship to get a supply. I place it in
latitude 25° 2′ south, and 130° west longitude, from my last lunar
observation.
“‘Sunday, 7 February.—Light airs from the eastward and very hot. The
ship laying off and on, I stayed on shore with the friendly Smith
and his truly good people until 4 P. M., then left them and went on
board and made sail, steering southeast and southeast by east, bound
for Massafuero, having received from the people on shore some hogs,
cocoanuts, and plantains. At noon the isle bore northwest by north by
compass 34′ dist. Latitude observation 25° 31′ south, etc.’”
After Captain Folger’s accidental discovery of the little colony on
Pitcairn Island, nothing more was known or heard of them for a period
of nearly six years. In the year 1814 H. M. ships _Briton_ and _Tagus_,
commanded respectively by Captains Staines and Pipon, out on a cruise
and returning to Valparaiso from the Marquesas, passed near the island.
So strange was the sight of a ship that when these two were first
descried approaching the island, the young woman who first saw them ran
to make it known to the rest by saying that “two _paafata_ [a wooden
flooring erected on four posts, on which the feed for their goats was
kept] were floating in toward the shore, with their posts turned wrong
end up.” But the experienced eye of John Adams soon discerned what the
visitors were.
As for the people on board, they were not a little surprised to see
from their vessels the land laid out in regular plantations. The
houses, too, that could be seen were different in make from those of
the other islands they had lately visited. In a short time a canoe was
seen paddling off towards the ships. To the astonishment of those on
board, the visitors from the shore, on coming near enough to speak to
those on the _Briton_, called out in plain English, “Won’t you heave us
a rope now?” A rope was thrown them, and they were warmly welcomed on
board.
The mystery was explained when, on being questioned, they said that
they were Thursday October Christian, son of Fletcher Christian,
the mutineer, and George Young, son of the midshipman Edward Young.
The former was named after the day and month of his birth. He was
described as a “tall and handsome young man about twenty-four years
of age, his scanty clothing consisting of a waistcloth, while he
wore a broad-brimmed straw hat adorned with black cock’s feathers.”
His companion, George Young, was said to be a “fine, noble-looking
youth, 17 or 18 years of age.” On being invited below, and having food
set before them, they further astonished their kind entertainers by
reverently asking a blessing before partaking of their food. In reply
to a question they said that the good custom had been taught them by
John Adams. Every kindness was shown to the two young men, and when
they were taken to see a cow that was on board the ship, they created
some amusement by asking whether the animal was “a huge goat or a
horned sow.”
[Illustration: THURSDAY OCTOBER CHRISTIAN.]
Captain Sir Thomas Staines went on shore, and was agreeably surprised
to find the youthful colony living harmoniously together under the
patriarchal rule of John Adams. Great fears were entertained by the
humble islanders lest their only instructor and teacher should be
removed from them, more especially as he had fully decided to give
himself up should he be required to do so. But the Tahitian women
pleaded strongly that he might be allowed to remain, and, clinging to
John Adams, weeping while they pleaded, the humane captain, himself
deeply touched at the scene, resolved not to disturb them. At the same
time he advised Adams not to go down to the landing place, where the
boat was, himself making the excuse that the path to the beach was
sufficiently rough and stony for the old man not to venture. The advice
was followed, Adams accompanying the kind-hearted captain only part of
the way. Thanking him for the thoughtful consideration shown to himself
and people, he bade Captain Staines farewell, and returned to the
little village.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
CHAPTER IV.
The Gem of the Pacific
PITCAIRN ISLAND, brought to notice through the events already narrated,
is insignificantly small, being only about five miles and a half
in circumference and two miles and a half across. It was, when the
mutineers first settled on it, thickly covered with trees wherever
there was soil sufficient for their roots to take hold; but, in the
period of a hundred years, during which wild goats have roamed in
herds over certain portions of the island, many of the trees have
disappeared. The soil, thus made bare, has severely suffered by being
washed away by heavy rains, and scarcely a trace of the once luxuriant
growth of trees remains. Viewed from the sea, the island in two or
three places presents a bare and sterile appearance. Its isolated
position in mid-ocean, its rock-bound shores and precipitous cliffs,
alike impress the beholder with a sense of the security such a place
would afford to those whose chief aim was to hide their crimes and get
beyond the reach of well-merited punishment.
The highest part of the island is about one thousand one hundred and
nine feet above the sea. Facing the north is a peak, or immense rock,
scarcely less high, called the Goat House. A cave in the side of this
rock, partly hidden by lofty trees, is said to have been the intended
retreat of Christian and his companions, in the event of their being
sought after and their lone island discovered. The peak overlooking
Bounty Bay, called Ship-landing Point, because it stands directly over
the place where the _Bounty_ was driven near the rocks and destroyed,
has been described as “possessing considerable beauty.” It rises in
bold outline almost perpendicularly from the sea, its rugged, rocky
front softened here and there by patches of grass and shrubs. The
scenery surrounding the little bay, with its rocky shore, is always
beautiful. Vine-covered trees, with foliage of intensest green—more
especially the _pandanus_ palm tree—flourish in rich growth quite near
the water’s edge, the salt spray frequently moistening their branches,
while the soft sea air helps to diffuse the delicious fragrance of the
sweetest flower that the island boasts of, the _morinda citrifolia_,
named by the islanders simply “high white,” in distinction to the pure
white blossoms of the “four o’clock,” which blooms on a low bush.
Overhead, near the highest extremity of Ship-landing Point, looking
from the north, is seen a natural curiosity, a huge portion of the
rock showing in profile a representation of a man’s head of gigantic
size. It is called the Old Man’s Head, and it is not difficult to
imagine that it looks down upon the small bay with an expression of
mild benevolence. The ascent from the landing place is very steep, but
is made comparatively easy by a very tolerable road leading up the few
hundred feet.
On the southeast side of the island is the place known as “the Rope,”
so called because in former years the steep descent could only be
accomplished by means of a rope. A zigzag path, only wide enough to
afford a foothold, now leads down from the high precipice to the
water’s edge. The steep cliffs, rising almost perpendicularly from the
shore, are grandly beautiful. The variegated colors of the soil, the
rocks, and the foliage of trees, all blended together, or contrasted
in shades of black and gray, yellow and brown, red and green, make the
scenery altogether pleasing; and not less beautiful is the view of the
waters of the little bay, when, calm and smooth, it spreads out like a
lake, without a ripple on its surface, or when, with wild and roaring
sound, wave after wave breaks and rolls in toward the shore, leaving
the surface of the water as if covered with billows of loveliest lace,
pure and white.
[Illustration: PATH THROUGH COCOANUT GROVE.]
In the most sheltered corner of the bay, at the Rope, is a small
stretch of sand, on one end of which, at the foot of the rock that
towers above it, there were found by the mutineers some stone axes
and other implements, which were made and used by the natives that
originally inhabited the island. Here, too, are cut in the rocks some
of the figures made by the rude artists of those by-gone ages. Most of
the characters have been obliterated by more than a century’s exposure
to every kind of weather. A few, however, remain quite distinct, as may
be seen by the accompanying illustration.
[Illustration: FIGURES CUT IN THE ROCKS AT THE ROPE.]
The _pandanus_ palm tree, with its clustering branches of drooping
leaves, fringes the shores of the bay nearly its whole extent. The
innumerable huge stones and rocks that cover the bottom of the bay
make it impossible for a boat to land. Its waters teem with myriads
of small fish. The bêche de mer drags out its existence in the many
sand-bottomed pools, while the cray fish and whelk, both of which are
eaten, make their home beneath and among the seaweed-covered rocks that
abound in the shallow bay. Looking north from the ridge of the Rope,
the eye rests upon a small but lovely valley, named St. Paul’s Valley,
it being in the vicinity of St. Paul’s Rock. Grand old trees, with
their varied and changing tints of foliage, render the scenery always
beautiful, while, as an accompaniment to their gentle, rustling music,
comes the booming sound of the surf on the rocks far below.
In the valley between Ship-landing Point on the northeast and the Goat
House, facing north, lies, nestling among trees, the little village
settled by the mutineers a hundred years ago. Groves of cocoanut and
orange trees surround it, while the beautiful banyan tree, with its
curious growth of long, rope-like roots hanging in thick profusion,
and its towering branches covered for ten months of the year with a
springlike robe of green, lends a delightful charm to the scenery.
Although the island is rocky to some extent, it still possesses much
picturesque beauty. Steep ridges and deep valleys are its chief
characteristics, both being covered by grand old shade-giving trees.
The only drawback to a thorough enjoyment of walking or resting beneath
the trees is the absence of singing birds to enliven the branches with
their songs. One little homely bird with its coat of brown and white
is the only occupant of the woods, with the exception of a beautiful
white sea bird that in the early warmer season comes to deposit its egg
on a niche of the bare branch of the banyan or other large tree. These
two birds, the former with its constant “tweet, tweet,” and the latter
with its lively, shrill calls, impart some life to the otherwise silent
groves. Occasionally a few other varieties of sea birds, sailing
overhead, pierce the silent air with their cries.
[Illustration: MORINDA CITRIFOLIA.]
Ferns, of which there are about twenty-six varieties, adorn the valleys
in lovely and rich profusion. Of wild flowers there are but few, and
all of them are, with one exception, small, white, and fragrant. This
one is a sweet little flower that loves to open its golden eyes during
the colder months of the year, and is found mostly around the edge of
the high precipices. It is a universal favorite. The “flower tree”
(_morinda citrifolia_) is in bloom almost all the year round, but is at
its loveliest from October to March. Its pure white blossoms contrast
richly with the dark, glossy leaves, while its delightful perfume, as
well as its simple beauty, makes it a favorite with old and young.
Children, boys as well as girls, find a never-ceasing pleasure in
stringing the flowers into garlands, which they wear around their hats.
The bright blossoms that here and there meet the eye have been
introduced from time to time, mostly by the captains of passing
ships, who have kindly given from their own limited stock. Also many
seeds have been sent by friends in England, America, and the Sandwich
Islands; but only those from the last-named place have succeeded well,
most of the others, owing greatly, no doubt, to the want of proper
culture, having proved a failure. However, through the thoughtful
kindness of friends, the little island is not entirely destitute of
nature’s loveliest productions.
First among the principal fruits that the island produces is the
orange. The trees begin to be in blossom from the end of July at the
earliest, and continue flowering until October. The season of the
fruit is from April to November. As the trees occasionally produce a
second crop, it is not unusual to have them in fruit the year round.
Watermelons, muskmelons, pineapples, roseapples, and figs are in season
from November to April. Bananas, of which there are a few varieties,
can be had all the year round, but are at their best from January to
June. The guava grows wild, and from March to July the trees are laden
with fruit. Grapes might be cultivated. The sugar cane is also one of
the principal productions of the island, the rich syrup made from its
juice being used instead of sugar. Arrowroot is cultivated with profit.
The process of making it involves much labor. The plants are set in
the ground in the months of October and November, and the roots are
fully matured by June. The yam crop is set at the same time as the
arrowroot, and takes the same length of time to come to maturity.
Such are some of the present productions of the little island that
became the hiding place of the mutineers. They themselves doubtless
introduced the breadfruit, cocoanut, taro, yam, and one variety of
the sweet potato. The places they once owned and cultivated are still
called by their names, as John Adams’ Breadfruit Patch, Ned Young’s
Ground, McCoy’s Valley, and so on through the whole list. But, while
their names remain, every trace of their burial places is lost, the
grave of John Adams alone excepted.
Pitcairn! To thee, land of my birth,
My song I bring;
Thy hills and valleys, trees and flowers,
Their praise I sing.
The cocoanut, with waving plumes
Of shining green,
The sweetly-scented orange blooms,
Both here are seen.
And stately trees, and luscious fruits,
Thy soil supplies;
But the enriching showers and rains
The heaven denies.
Thou once wast fertile, rich, and green,
But now, how bare;
And yet thou still art beautiful,
Still sweet and fair.
Such matchless days of calm, fair skies
Thy summers bring!
And lovely, too, are all the hours
Of balmy spring.
Each season, as it rolls around,
New beauties gives;
And every object, silent, cries,
“My Maker lives.”
[Illustration]
CHAPTER V.
JOHN BUFFETT and JOHN EVANS
Marriages and Births
TO RETURN to John Adams and his small community. Five or six years had
passed since the visits of the _Briton_ and the _Tagus_, and during
that time the fact of the island being inhabited, and by whom, had
become more widely known. About the year 1819 the East India Company’s
ship _Hercules_, Captain Henderson, made a call at the island and left
some useful and much-needed gifts for the islanders, consisting of
carpenters’ tools, large iron boilers, etc., etc., the last mentioned
being used chiefly for the purpose of boiling down salt water to obtain
salt.
In the month of October, 1823, an English whaleship, the _Cyrus_,
Captain Hall, visited Pitcairn Island. John Adams, being now somewhat
advanced in years, and beginning already to feel the infirmities of
age, expressed to Captain Hall the wish that he could find among the
ship’s crew someone to assist him in the arduous task of trying to
impart instruction to his young people. The captain listened kindly,
and promised to do what he could. Calling his men around him, he made
known to them the wishes of the old man, and asked if any of them would
be willing to accede to his request. After a few minutes’ hesitation,
John Buffett, a young man twenty-six years of age, stepped forward and
volunteered his services. Being bound by no home ties, he counted it no
great sacrifice to remain.
Buffett had in early youth been apprenticed to a cabinet maker in
Bristol, his native place. Of a roving disposition, a sea life
especially possessing a peculiar fascination for him, he left his early
trade to serve on board His Majesty’s ship _Penelope_, and again on
the _Impregnable_. He was shipwrecked in the Gulf of St. Lawrence, and
afterwards cast away on the coast of California, where he was received
and cared for in the kindest manner by an old Spanish _comandante_ in
the place. The latter made every effort to persuade Buffett to make
his home in California, but he decided not to do so, and from thence
he made his way to Honolulu, in the Sandwich Islands, where he joined
the _Cyrus_. At last, after his many adventures, he arrived at Pitcairn
Island, where, accepting his captain’s proposal, he resolved to end his
days among the people with whom his lot was now cast.
Among his shipmates on board the _Cyrus_ was a youth about nineteen
years of age, named John Evans, a native of London. For love of
Buffett, he determined to remain on the island, and for this purpose
he ran away from the ship. Being of very small build, he contrived to
hide himself in the hollow stump of a tree until the vessel had sailed,
and it was safe for him to make his appearance. As there was no help
for it, Evans also was allowed to become a member of the community.
Not many months passed before both Buffett and Evans sought in marriage
the hands of two of the island maidens. Buffett met with no opposition
to his suit, and, in due time, was united in marriage to Dorothy, a
daughter of Edward Young. Evans did not obtain such ready favor when he
requested of John Adams the hand of his daughter Rachel. The old man
did not approve of the young people’s entering the marriage relation
at too early an age, and Evans was barely nineteen; besides, the
disparity in age of the two young persons was another obstacle in the
father’s view, the young woman being the older by some years. However,
the matter was referred to the daughter for decision. Her answer came,
quick, short, and decided, “Try it, daddy.” He at length consented, but
not without misgivings regarding her future happiness, and his paternal
blessing was not withheld when the twain stood up to be made one, being
wedded with a ring formed of the outer circle of a limpet shell.
[Illustration: THE CHAPEL.]
It may prove interesting to some readers to know the names of those
others whom John Adams united in the bonds of matrimony. The service
was performed according to the rites of the Church of England. The
parties were, of course, the sons and daughters of all the mutineers
who left children, and their names are as follows: Matthew Quintall to
Elizabeth Mills, Arthur Quintall to Katharine McCoy, Daniel McCoy to
Sarah Quintall. These two last mentioned young men one day swam off to
a rock at a considerable distance from the shore, and there agreed to
seek each one the other’s sister for a wife. The rock received, from
that incident, its name, _Táné M’á_, _i. e._, “The place of the men’s
agreement.” Thursday October Christian, son of Fletcher Christian, and
the first born on the island, married Susan, the girl of fifteen who
came in the _Bounty_. The others were: Charles Christian, married to
Sarah McCoy; Edward Quintall, to Dinah Adams; George Young, to Hannah
Adams; William Young, to Elizabeth Mills, widow of Matthew Quintall,
who met his death in some unknown manner. Most of the young men went
out one day in their canoes to fish. They were mostly within speaking
distance of each other, but as Matthew, or Matt, as he was called, was
not seen tending his canoe, the others supposed that he was lying down
in it. It was afterwards discovered that the canoe was, and had been
no one knew how long, floating about without an occupant. The body had
sunk, and was never again seen.
The following story is told to show the binding force with which a
promise was regarded in those early days: George Adams, the only son of
John Adams, had, when quite a youth, “conceived an attachment for Polly
Young, but she declared that she would never marry George.” On Captain
Beechy’s visit to the island, Adams referred the case to him and the
other officers. Their opinion was that the young girl’s determination
was made before she was old enough to know her own mind, and would
be more “honored in the breach than the observance.” Polly, however,
viewed the matter in a different light, but confessed that her opinion
of her lover was considerably altered since she declared she would not
have him. Subsequently they were married, perhaps not “in haste,” but
Polly repented “in a hurry,” for she discovered all too soon that a
home with George did not mean a “woman’s paradise.”
One gold ring, the property of Edward Young, played an important part
in the wedding services performed in those days, and continued to be
used until somewhere in the forties.
Only four of the children of the mutineers died unmarried. One of them,
Johnny, the only son of John Mills, the mutineer, came to his death by
an awful fall from a high, rocky cliff, where he had gone in search of
birds’ eggs. His injuries were such that he died before he could be
conveyed to his home. The poor lad was only fourteen years old when
the sad accident occurred. Two of the sons of Edward Young, Robert
and Edward, both died shortly after the return of the community from
Tahiti in 1831, while Fletcher Christian’s only daughter, Mary, died of
dropsy, on Norfolk Island, about the year 1865. A daughter of Quintall,
having strayed from the path of virtue, was so harshly treated by her
brother that when she had an opportunity she left the island. The
captain of a passing vessel, being informed of the matter, and learning
the wish of the unfortunate young woman, kindly allowed her a passage
on his ship. She was taken to the island of Rurutu, where she was most
kindly received. One of the chiefs of the island made her his wife, and
she eventually became the mother of a numerous family.
Such were the early loves and marriages between the children of the
original settlers. Families of healthy, vigorous children were raised,
and over them all John Adams presided, much after the fashion of the
patriarchs of old, and was looked up to and respected as a father by
the growing community, who had the utmost confidence in the wisdom of
his counsels and teachings. At the time of Captain Beechy’s visit in
the _Blossom_, in 1825, the community numbered twenty-six adults and
thirty-five children, making a total of sixty-one persons. During a
period of thirty-five years there had been twenty-seven births, and of
the original settlers from the _Bounty_ there remained only John Adams
and five of the Tahitian women. These six, with the addition of Buffett
and Evans, made eight of the adult population.
When it was first ascertained that the _Blossom_ was a man-of-war,
great fears prevailed among the little community lest the ship had come
to convey Adams a prisoner to England. But they were soon reassured.
The captain and officers hastened to explain that their coming was
for an altogether different purpose. When they realized that their
fears were groundless, and that there was no danger of the old man’s
removal, the female portion of the community crowded around him and
embraced him in the most affectionate manner. Especially touching
it was to see the way in which Hannah Young clung to her father and
embraced him, weeping, even, in the fullness of her joy when she
understood that he was not to be taken away.
[Illustration: GROUP OF ISLAND MAIDENS.]
During the whole stay of the _Blossom_ her captain and officers were
most hospitably entertained by the simple-hearted islanders. The young
women especially, who inherited from their Tahitian mothers a strong
love for flowers, made it their pleasant duty every morning to adorn
the caps of the officers with freshly-made wreaths of sweet-smelling
flowers. The visitors were charmed with the open, simple manners of
all the islanders, but observed that “the same marked difference
between the sexes prevailed here as in all the islands of the Pacific,
notably at meals, the women were not allowed to sit down with the men;
and when the captain and officers passed their remarks and opinions
respecting the difference observed between the sexes, their words were
resented, as seeming to interfere with long-established custom.” (It
was not so much a “marked difference between the sexes” as a feeling
of unaccountable shyness that prevented the women in those early times
from sitting down to the same table with strangers. At the present day
most of the island women, inheriting the same dispositions from their
mothers, when an occasional visitor happens to share their hospitality,
would much prefer to “stand and wait” than act the part of hostess by
sitting down with their guests.)
The day was invariably begun and ended with prayer and praise to the
divine Father for His mercies and His preserving care, each and every
family engaging in a short service of worship by parents and children,
nor was a day considered as rightly begun if their first duty to their
Creator was omitted. This right custom has ever been, and still is,
religiously observed by their descendants. Captain Beechy and his
officers had the opportunity during their stay of attending divine
service on the Sunday. That day was very strictly kept. There was
complete cessation from work; no fires were made, all the cooking being
done on the Saturday, that nothing of a worldly nature might interfere
with the sacred duties of the day of rest. In the public worship on
Sundays, Buffett assisted Adams in reading the service, the especial
part allotted him being the sermon, “some sentences of which were read
over two or three times,” to catch the attention of his hearers, and
also to help to impress the words on their memory. Buffett also acted
as schoolmaster, and “found the children both willing and attentive
scholars.”
When the _Blossom_ left the island, the tearful, affectionate farewells
told how the hearts of all the islanders had been won to their
visitors, whose pleasant stay and cheerful companionship had been such
a bright spot in their quiet lives, and was to form ever after one of
their most delightful and pleasing recollections.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
CHAPTER VI.
GEORGE HUN NOBBS.
Death of John Adams
THE EVEN, uneventful round of life in the little community passed
steadily along, with “scarcely a ripple to stir its monotonous
surface.” Cultivating the ground and keeping it in order, building
houses for the more newly married couples, canoe building and fishing,
and occasionally going out with their guns to shoot goats, wild fowl,
and birds, supplied constant occupation for the men. A favorite mode of
taking fish was with the spear, usually made by fastening five pieces
of iron, bent to the required shape, and having barbed points, onto a
pole about twenty feet long, and in the use of which the men were very
expert. The women were always to be seen assisting their husbands,
fathers, and brothers in their outdoor occupations, and sometimes
accompanied them when they went out in their canoes to fish. Cooking
and other housework, and taking care of the children, gave them daily
employment. But their principal work, during the colder months of the
year, was the making of native cloth.
This native cloth, or _tappa_, is made from the bark of the _aute_
plant (pronounced outy), _i. e._, the paper mulberry, and has very much
the nature and consistency of paper. The work is exceedingly laborious
and wearisome, and when the yield of the plants is large, it sometimes
occupies months in doing. Yet it was necessary to be done, as that
material supplied nearly all the bedding used then.
When anyone not accustomed to sleeping beneath such noise-creating
bedclothes tries it for the first time, the constant loud rustle that
it makes generally succeeds in driving all sleep away. Captain Beechy
spoke of sleeping in cloth that “seemed fresh from the loom,” as
that was all that his entertainers could give him. Frequent washing
and exposure to the sun will eventually deprive the material of
its stiffness and noisiness, and in cold weather it affords a warm
covering, as it excludes all air. It is colored a bright reddish
brown, and rendered tougher by being dyed in the sap obtained from the
_doodooee_ (candlenut tree). This dye is made by steeping the bark of
the _doodooee_ in water.
In the early days this stiff, uncomfortable cloth was worn by all,
with, perhaps, the exception of John Adams himself. By the women,
pieces about a yard in width and two yards in length were fastened
around the waist by simply crossing the two upper ends and turning
them in to secure them. Another yard of the same material was thrown
across the shoulders, as a covering to the body, and this constituted
almost wholly their everyday garment. For Sunday wear each woman and
girl owned a frock of most primitive make, being gathered in around
the neck, and falling loosely from the shoulders, reaching a little
below the knee. Underneath was a petticoat worn as described above,
which completed the whole attire. The men and boys wore the waistcloth,
almost exclusively, on week days. Sundays they donned their breeches,
which did not reach to the knee, thus displaying the muscular growth of
their limbs.
The frequent outdoor employments of both men and women resulted in a
great muscular development of their physical frame, and rendered them
strong and capable of enduring a vast amount of manual labor. Yet this
did not deprive the female portion of the community of their feminine
instincts, and all their womanly ways remained. Their children were
brought up early to help in all the little homely duties that pertained
to the house, as well as to aid their parents in field work; nor were
they allowed to absent themselves from the school, where they were
taught reading, writing, and arithmetic by John Buffett.
In 1828 George Hun Nobbs, accompanied by an American named Bunker,
arrived at Pitcairn Island from Valparaiso. He had reached the
last-mentioned place after having passed through several adventures,
and while there heard for the first time the story of the _Bounty_, and
how Pitcairn Island was settled by the descendants of the mutineers.
The story so fascinated him that he determined, if it could be done,
to reach the island and take up his residence with the inhabitants.
Accordingly, obtaining possession of a launch, he, with Bunker, left
Valparaiso, and in due time they reached their destination safely. Both
these additions to their number received a cordial welcome from the
inhabitants.
Nobbs did not long delay seeking to woo and win a wife; and, with
some difficulty, at length succeeded in obtaining the hand of Sarah
Christian, a granddaughter of Fletcher Christian. Bunker was not so
fortunate, for Peggy Christian would not listen to his suit, and
whether through unrequited love or a fit of temporary insanity is not
known, but he attempted self-destruction by throwing himself headlong
off a cliff. By some means the fall was broken, and his suicidal
intentions were frustrated. He died, however, shortly after.
[Illustration:
ROSA YOUNG. ARTHUR YOUNG.
JOHN YOUNG. SARAH YOUNG.]
The launch on which the voyage of the two men was made was run ashore,
broken up, and used in building Nobbs’ house. In giving an account of
himself, Nobbs said that he was the “unacknowledged son of a marquis.”
Being, by a superior education, better fitted than was John Buffett
to fill the place of teacher among the youth of the island, Nobbs had
not been long among them before he took charge of the school, taking
the work almost entirely out of Buffett’s hands. Buffett was inclined
to resent this act of Nobbs as a gross injustice, but the people in
general favored the change, chiefly because of a grave fault which
Buffett had committed. Yet some of the parents remained faithful in
their allegiance to the teacher that had first come among them, and
did not withdraw their children from his care, for, in spite of his
fault, he endeavored to the best of his ability to perform his duty
faithfully to them, while he sought to atone for the wrong he had done
by a lifelong repentance.
The duty of officiating as pastor was also assumed by Nobbs. John Adams
had by this time left the management of everything that concerned the
progress and improvement of the people, in the hands of the two younger
men. On the twenty-ninth day of March, 1829, the year following the
arrival of Nobbs, the last of the Englishmen that came in the _Bounty_
passed quietly and peacefully away, at the age of sixty-five years,
deeply and sincerely mourned by the family over whom he had been so
strangely placed. He survived the last of his companions twenty-nine
years. A plain white stone marks his resting place, the inscription
“In Hope” being placed beneath the simple record of his name, age, and
death. The headstone was made in Devonport, England.
A year subsequent to the death of John Adams the _Seringapatam_,
man-of-war, Captain Waldegrave, visited the island, bringing gifts of
clothing and other useful presents to the islanders. Previous to that
time the people, on account of their rapidly increasing numbers, had
been considering whether the island, with its limited resources, would
be adequate to their support and maintenance, not the least cause
of anxiety being the scarcity of water. This condition of affairs
was reported to the proper authorities, and an arrangement having
been effected between the British Government and the authorities at
Tahiti for a grant of land for the use of the Pitcairners in Tahiti,
the _Comet_, sloop, Captain Sandilands, arrived at Pitcairn Island on
the twenty-eighth day of February, 1831, as convoy to the _Lucy Ann_,
which, on the seventh day of March, sailed for Tahiti, with the whole
Pitcairn Island colony, and their small stock of movable goods, on
board.
At the end of fourteen days the emigrants landed, having received a
cordial welcome. But the experiment did not succeed. They had not
been long in Tahiti when a malignant fever broke out amongst them and
rapidly reduced their numbers. Fourteen of the people died in quick
succession, and, notwithstanding the liberal provision made for their
support by the kind-hearted people of Tahiti, the Pitcairners were
anxiously desirous to return to their home. Then, too, the manners of
the people among whom they now lived were so different from the pure,
simple lives they led amongst themselves, and the open and undisguised
immorality of some of the people around them rendered them very
unhappy. In less than three weeks after their arrival at Tahiti an
opportunity of returning presented itself, and Buffett and his family
availed themselves of it. Four more of the young men accompanied them.
The vessel that carried them called at Hood’s Island on the way, and
there one of the four young men died. After the safe arrival home of
the others, and before the rest of the community came, another of their
number passed away.
Meanwhile, preparations were making at Tahiti for the return of the
rest of the people. The schooner _Charles Doggett_ was chartered to
convey them to their home. A quantity of the _Bounty’s_ copper had been
carried to Tahiti, and this was given by the people to purchase the
schooner, as it was all they were able to do; but liberal aid was given
by generous friends in Tahiti, who raised a subscription to supply the
deficiency. The return voyage occupied twenty-two days, the whole stay
at Tahiti not extending over five months.
A pleasing incident is here recorded, illustrating the old Bible truth,
“Cast thy bread upon the waters; for thou shalt find it after many
days.” During the sojourn of the Pitcairners at Tahiti, in the time
of their deep sorrow and grief, when one and another of their number
sickened and died, the second mate of an American whaleship, whose name
was Coffin, learned of the dire distress that they suffered. Pitying
their forlorn condition as strangers in a strange land, and obeying the
impulse of a kind heart, he generously spent five dollars in procuring
such food for those who were sick as he thought they would relish.
Nor were the needs of the others forgotten. This act of disinterested
Christian kindness was warmly remembered by all the people, and when,
after nineteen years, the kind-hearted man came to Pitcairn as master
of a ship, the people made him a present of ten barrels of yams,
the cost of which was twenty dollars. This substantial proof of the
recollection of his goodness toward them affected the captain to tears,
and it was with difficulty that he could be prevailed upon to accept
the gift, pleading that his former kindness might be allowed to pass
unrewarded. But the people earnestly insisted upon his accepting what
they considered but a small return for the unforgotten deed of kindness
shown them in their extremity.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
CHAPTER VII.
MR. JOSHUA HILL
A NEW chapter now opens in the history of this island. About the year
1832-33 it was favored with a new arrival, in the person of Joshua
Hill. He was a man of excellent education, but stern in his nature,
and a tyrannically strict disciplinarian. He reached the island by way
of Tahiti, to which place he had come from Honolulu. In England he had
heard the curious story of the little island in mid-ocean, and how it
was peopled, and he left home for the purpose of coming amongst the
islanders as their pastor and teacher, considering his age no obstacle,
although he was about seventy years old. But he was forestalled by
Nobbs.
It is only fair to acknowledge that at the time of his coming the
condition of affairs on the island did not witness favorably to the
management of those who were the acknowledged leaders. Like the
Israelites in the times of the judges, “every man did what was right in
his own eyes,” for, since the patriarchal rule of John Adams, no one
had supplied, as he did, the place he held so long in the confidence,
as well as the affection, of the people.
It excites a feeling of surprise that, in all the old man’s endeavors
at reformation, he had allowed the old still, used by McCoy and
Quintall, to continue its unholy, debasing work. But so it was; and at
the time of Hill’s arrival, it was in constant operation, several of
the men being addicted to the vice; nor were Nobbs and Buffett averse
to “a wee drap on the sly.” Neither, since the removal to Tahiti, did
all the people retain the beautiful, strict morality that had been
their crowning virtue, as was proved in two cases; so that, altogether,
the island stood in need of a general and thorough reformation.
Hill at once assumed the reins of government. His first step was to
appoint four principal men to support him, to whom he gave the title of
elders. These were supplemented by three sub-elders, and four cadets.
The people at first willingly submitted to all his innovations, and,
had he been as wise and prudent in the administration of his measures
as he was zealous in having them performed, there is no question but
that he would have accomplished such lasting good among the people
as would have continued so long as they had a history. One fact will
show that this was done, in spite of the many faults and errors that
he committed during his brief term of leadership. To his honor be
it recorded that through his untiring and energetic exertions the
trouble-creating still was destroyed, and never after was its baleful
work to be revived.
Hill professed to have been sent out by the English Government, which
assertion, if not entirely false, was at least doubtful. He utterly
ignored the presence of the other Englishmen, and succeeded only too
well in influencing the islanders against them. But there was one
exception. Charles Christian, a son of Fletcher Christian, whose
many noble qualities endeared him to all, ever remained the staunch,
unchanging friend of the persecuted Nobbs, Buffett, and Evans; and
when, by Hill’s order, Buffett was publicly flogged, this true friend,
hearing of the unjust and cruel treatment, hastened to the rescue, and,
by his unflinching bravery and manly courage, succeeded in delivering
the unhappy man from his hard-hearted and wicked tormentors. But this
extreme measure was carried into effect after Hill’s rule had been
fairly established.
Under his strict discipline everything worked fairly well at the start.
But his too zealous eagerness to accomplish a reform led him to do
what prudence and calm reason should have prevented. The following
instance may serve as an example: Two women had set afloat some report
concerning Hill, which, reaching his ears, he strongly resented.
Immediate steps were taken to punish the offenders. A meeting was
convened, consisting of the irate leader, his elders, sub-elders, and
cadets, to pass judgment on the women. In the course of the meeting,
they knelt for a few minutes while Hill prayed. Among the various
petitions that he uttered, occurred this sentence: “If these women die
the common death of all men, the Lord hath not sent me.” The prayer
ended, but there was no response. Not one present, with the exception
of Hill himself, would pronounce the “amen.” Nor was it to be expected
that they would thus denounce the women who were nearly related to some
of them. But their refusal to take part in the prayer enraged their
leader still more, and, while he stood revealed before his followers in
his true character, overzealous, revengeful, and tyrannical, the spell
with which his influence had bound them was broken, and the hold he had
obtained on the minds of some of them was forever lost.
Wrangling, quarreling, and abusive language were constantly kept up
between the parties. Hill and his party, who were the stronger, caused
the lives of the three other Englishmen to be daily embittered with
hard treatment. Buffett in particular was forced to undergo severe
punishment on account of a wrong done five or six years before Hill
came. When Hill was informed of the matter, he considered it his duty
to administer such penalty as would prove a wholesome lesson to Buffett
in future. Nor would Nobbs have escaped were it not that at the time he
was sick in bed, and Hill’s cruelty did not quite reach to the extent
of flogging a sick man. Nobbs, who was poetical, wrote a lively epigram
on Hill, in the closing lines of which he mentioned the erection of the
gallows—
“With a _Hill_ to _enliven_ the scene.”
This at once met a retort, and thus the spirit of animosity was kept
alive and never suffered to die.
[Illustration: PITCAIRN AVENUE.]
The ill treatment to which the three Englishmen were constantly
subjected at last reached a climax by their being forced to leave the
island. Separated from their families, they were carried away on a
schooner, the captain of which condemned Hill’s doings unsparingly,
while to the exiled men he showed the utmost kindness. They were taken
to Tahiti, but did not remain there long, as an opportunity was soon
afforded them of returning to the home of their adoption. Arriving
there, they took their families with them and left, Nobbs and Evans
going as far as the Gambier Islands, while Buffett went on to Tahiti.
When the cruel banishment had been effected, the men who before had
yielded unquestioning obedience to Hill’s orders, began to awake to
the fact that they had been participating in a wholesale course of
injustice and oppression. Their true friends had received ill usage at
their hands, even unto banishment, while they had submitted to be ruled
by a tyrant. Shame and remorse for the part they had taken, filled
their minds, and they only waited the opportunity to have the exiles
recalled.
It soon came. The captain of a schooner, the _Olivia_, making a call
at the island at the time, was told all the facts of the case, and he
very generously promised to go to the Gambier Islands and remove the
two families of Nobbs and Evans to their home. This was accordingly
done, and once more all were again on Pitcairn Island, as Buffett and
his family had arrived from Tahiti a short time before on the _Olive
Branch_. While these last seemed to have gained in health during their
sojourn at Tahiti, the two families who stayed at the Gambier Islands
were extremely emaciated, owing to the poor food on which they were
obliged to subsist. Their relatives and friends greeted them on their
home coming with open arms, while expressions of affection and tears of
joy, that spoke more than words, told how glad they were that all of
them were permitted to meet again.
On the return of the exiled men, they found the island in an unsettled
state. Divisions were rife among the people. Hill no longer exercised
undisputed sway over their minds and actions. His power, once so great,
was now quite broken. At this time there occurred a quarrel between
Hill and one of his former elders, which narrowly escaped proving a
very serious affair. The trouble arose in this way: A young girl,
daughter of the ex-elder, had been charged with stealing some yams, and
was proved guilty. The father was summoned before Hill, to hear what
his daughter’s sentence would be. Hill declared that the offender ought
to be executed, or, at least, be made to suffer very severely for her
fault. The father strongly opposed such harsh measures, and positively
asserted that his daughter should not be subjected to the will of the
merciless man. Aroused to fury by this opposition to his will, which
the father steadily maintained, Hill rushed into his bedroom, and,
grasping his sword, returned, and, waving it threateningly at his
opponent, cried out, “Confess your sins, for you are a dead man.” This
he repeated with, if possible, increased fury, while his threatened
victim, as he afterward declared, felt that his last hour had indeed
come. A table stood between them, and young Quintall, although
intimidated by the murderous fire that gleamed in Hill’s eye, as well
as by the sword that he was brandishing, quickly cleared the table at a
bound, and, before Hill could divine his intention, laid a firm grip on
the shoulders of his enemy, and by main force threw him upon the floor.
Unable to do anything else but maintain his hold on his fallen foe,
he was powerless to prevent the thrusts of Hill’s sword. Fortunately,
they resulted in a few slight scratches only, which were sufficiently
deep, however, to leave lifelong scars on the breast of the intended
victim. How long the struggle would have lasted had the combatants been
left alone, it is not possible to say. A young man happened to pass by
the house, and, catching a glimpse of what was passing within, took
in the whole situation at once. Running as quickly as he could to his
house, he soon returned armed with a musket, and called out that he was
going to shoot Hill. Others, hearing the shout, came running together
to learn what the cause of the disturbance was. Arriving at the scene
of the quarrel, their first act was to dispossess Hill of his sword.
He was then allowed to rise and retire peaceably to his room. Nothing
further was done to him, but he did not receive his sword back again
until the day when, friendless and unloved, he left the island forever.
Letters of complaint from the persecuted Buffett, Evans, and Nobbs had,
in the meantime, been sent on to Valparaiso, asking redress from those
who might and could render help and deliverance from Hill’s power. In
answer to their earnest appeal, the _Actæon_ was sent to the island in
1836. She was commanded by Lord Edward Russell. His lordship, shortly
after arriving, called a meeting, over which he himself presided.
Permission was given to all concerned to speak their minds freely, a
privilege of which each one readily availed himself. A warm and lively
debate ensued, and while Hill was speaking in his own defense, one
unruly member of the meeting would every now and again interrupt him
with, “It’s a lie, my lord,” addressed to Lord Russell.
The proceedings of the court provoked much laughter, and all was
greatly enjoyed by his lordship. One circumstance especially called
forth peals of laughter. Hill was relating a story about a book that
belonged to Hannah Young. Opposite to the motto “_Dieu et mon droit_,”
on the title-page, were written the following lines:—
“God and my right we often see
Emblazoned abroad;
Let them who read this motto be
With Jesus, right with God.”
Beneath this Nobbs had placed his signature, “G. H. Nobbs, P. S. M.”
Hill had taken the liberty to add as a postscript this quotation from
Holy Writ: “Alas, master! for it was borrowed.” On Lord Russell’s
asking an explanation of the three initial letters subjoined to the
name of Nobbs, Hill readily replied that _Nobbs_ intended them to mean
“Pastor and Spiritual Master,” but, in _his_ estimation, the correct
rendering should be “Public Miscreant and Scoundrel.” These lively
thrusts were given by each party until his lordship declared that the
whole proceeding was too good to finish at one sitting, and the meeting
adjourned to the following day.
On the second day his lordship’s decision was that Hill should be
removed from the island as soon as possible, and the following year
the _Imogen_ arrived to carry that decision into effect. The first
words spoken by her captain, when the boat from shore went off to the
ship, were: “Is Joshua Hill still on the island? I am sent on purpose
to remove him.” The next day, at an early hour, Hill, with his few
possessions, was conveyed on board the _Imogen_, where cold looks
awaited him. Friendless and alone in the midst of strangers, the old
man stood on the deck of the vessel that was to bear him away. With
all his faults, aggravated as they were, it is impossible not to feel
a deep sympathy in his hour of adversity for the poor old man, who,
through a mistaken, perverted zeal, had rendered himself obnoxious to
those whom he undoubtedly, and with all honesty of purpose, wished to
benefit. Thus passed out of the history of Pitcairn Island Joshua Hill,
whose memory is still freshly retained by those who knew him, rather as
being associated with harshness, severity, and tyranny, than like that
of the just, whose memory “smells sweet and blossoms in the dust.”
[Illustration]
CHAPTER VIII.
THE FLAG OF OLD ENGLAND
AFTER Mr. Hill’s removal, Mr. Nobbs, with the hearty consent of nearly
all the people, assumed sole charge as pastor and schoolmaster. Under
his benign rule peace once more reigned, and the former brotherliness
between the families, that had been so fully established under John
Adams, was once more as fully resumed. While Mr. Nobbs devoted himself
to the higher needs of the people, combining with his other duties
those of a physician (to the best of his ability), Buffett had resumed
his old trade of cabinet work, which he confined to such articles as
workboxes, writing desks, and chests of drawers of all sizes. The wood
of the _mero_ tree, which the soil of the island abundantly produced,
supplied all the material needed in the darker shades. The timber is
exceedingly close grained and hard, and when fully matured becomes
changed in color from dark red to almost black, and takes polish
beautifully. The bright yellow color of the wood of the white-flower
tree was used for ornamenting, as it forms a pretty contrast with the
other. Buffett also instructed those among the young men who showed any
inclination to learn, and was highly gratified at seeing them display
decided skill in the handiwork. John Evans, also, who wished to try his
hand at the trade, came with the others to take lessons in practical
work, and succeeded fairly well in the business.
Buffett, who was fond of a joke, used to relate how one day, when he
was at work in his house, Evans came to him, bringing an unfinished
workbox that he was making, in his hand. Setting the box down, he
turned to Buffett, and began telling him how his work was almost a
failure, and was likely to come to grief unless he obtained some much
needed help from the master hand. “In fact, Buffett,” he said, “I
just came over to ask you to give it a licking.” As soon as Evans had
finished speaking, Buffett, without a word, took up the workbox, and,
rapidly passing his tongue over its smooth surface, set it down again,
saying, with a hearty laugh, “There is your box; I have given it a
licking.” Astonished beyond expression, and indignant at having his
request so literally fulfilled, Evans angrily snatched up the innocent
cause of the joke, and was hastening away, when Buffett good-humoredly
assured him that no offense was intended, and he was at length
prevailed on, though reluctantly, to calm his ruffled feelings, and
wait a few minutes until Buffett had given the necessary help he asked
for.
While Nobbs gave instruction to the children in the schoolroom, Buffett
proposed to establish a class for young men, to give them instruction
in navigation and the more advanced branches of arithmetic, and, in
addition to these, studies upon such subjects of general information
as they could obtain through the medium of books, though of these they
had only a very limited supply. The more thoughtful among the young
men eagerly availed themselves of even this chance of improvement, and
organized themselves into a band, with Buffett at their head, who gave
the name “Mutual Improvement Society” to their class. While it lasted,
it was well attended, and most, if not all, of the members derived
lasting benefit therefrom.
While Nobbs and Buffett were engaged in pursuits so congenial to them,
the necessary cultivation of their allotments of land was performed by
their wives and children, and whoever of their neighbors that would
willingly assist. They themselves did but a trifling portion of the
work. Evans, on the other hand, seemed to possess a natural liking for
the soil and its cultivation, in which work he was aided by his strong
and healthy wife.
It was now forty-seven years since the island had been settled, and
in all that time no rules had been enacted for the government of the
people. Conscience sometimes, and more frequently inclination, ruled
them. But this state of things was about to be ended.
[Illustration: GROUP OF NATIVE MEN.]
In the year 1838 Her Majesty’s ship _Fly_ came on a visit, and for the
first time, to the evident satisfaction and pleasure of the islanders,
the flag of Old England was hoisted on Pitcairn Island, Captain Elliott
observing, “You are now under the protection of the English flag.” From
that time until the entire community was removed to Norfolk Island,
they were annually visited by one or more of Her Majesty’s ships of war.
Captain Elliott also strongly advised the people to have written laws
by which they might be governed, and, further, to appoint a magistrate
from among themselves to enforce those laws. Mr. Hill had also spoken
strongly about the necessity and importance of such a step being
taken, but his advice had not been acted upon. The captain’s proposal
was received differently, everybody being willing to carry out any
plans that he thought would be best for them. Their unanimous choice
fell upon the youngest son of Quintall, whose strong common sense and
really excellent abilities recommended him as the fittest person to be
nominated. When Hill first came among the people, Quintall attracted
his particular notice, and Hill constituted him his chief elder. The
two men possessed many similar traits of character, and on no point
were they more agreed than in the intense dislike to the three other
Englishmen. That Quintall could be a staunch friend was proved by the
fact that he stood by Hill to the last, when everyone else had deserted
him. In after years the intermarriages that took place between his own
children and those of Nobbs and Buffett were evident proofs that they
did not share their father’s prejudices.
Like Hill, he, too, when aroused by anger, was capable of committing
deeds of cruelty, as the following story will show. Engaged in a
dispute one day with John Evans, both men lost control over themselves,
and began to abuse one another. The quarrel increased, and Quintall,
being a powerful man, brought it to a termination by lifting Evans, who
was small, as easily as he would a child, and throwing him violently
into a pigsty, thereby causing him serious injury. This wicked act was
recorded in the register of those times, for it was customary to enter
therein every occurrence, however trivial, and whenever a case occurred
which could not be satisfactorily adjusted by the local authorities, it
was usual to postpone it until the arrival of a ship of war, to whose
captain the matter was referred for decision. It was so in this case,
but the fact that the perpetrator of the deed was at the time laid on
his sick bed, from which he never again arose, prevented his receiving
his just deserts, and so the passing of the sentence awaited a higher
tribunal than that of earth.
A more pleasing theme than the story just related was the arrival of
the first missionary vessel that ever called at the island. This was
the _Camden_, which was sent out by the London Missionary Society. In
her missionary visits to the various islands of the Pacific, she made
a brief call at Pitcairn Island, having but one missionary on board,
a Mr. Heath. The _Camden’s_ stay extended only to four days, during
which time Mr. Heath gave two public addresses, and held several
meetings in Mr. Nobbs’ house. Captain Morgan, who commanded the vessel,
also delivered an impressive discourse from the text, “My son, give me
thine heart.” A good supply of Bibles was left on the island, enough
for each family to have one. Captain Morgan also sent out from England,
on his arrival there, a box of books, schoolbooks as well as religious
publications, and slates and pencils for the use of the school. These
were all thankfully received, as they supplied a very pressing want,
especially the last-named gifts.
In the year 1841 Christian’s widow died. Her name, given by the
Englishmen, was Isabella, but as Christian himself had dubbed her
“Mainmast,” this latter name was the one by which she was exclusively
called, only it was abbreviated to “Mai’mas’.” She was of very advanced
age when she died, but to the last retained vivid recollections of the
events of earlier years, and used often to relate to her attentive
listeners the story of Captain Cook’s visit to the Society Islands.
Once when he was in Tahiti he was suffering from a severe attack of
rheumatism. Some of the Tahitian women took him in hand, and effected a
cure by means of the native remedy. This consisted of a preparation of
the _a’pi-plant_ (_arum gigantum_) which was externally applied to the
part or parts affected. The painful, stinging properties of the plant
(compared to which the sting of the nettle is almost enjoyable) would
seem to lead one to decide in favor of the rheumatism, as this remedy
seems certainly worse than the disease. But Mainmast declared that the
dreadful remedy cured Captain Cook. This old woman’s death left but one
more remaining of the original party that came in the _Bounty_, thus
severing, link by link, the tie that bound the younger portion of the
community to those who originally settled the colony.
Scarcely anything occurred to disturb the tranquil round of life that
the inhabitants enjoyed, and day after day passed along in quiet
monotony, broken only by the arrival of some passing ship. The “event”
of every year was the visit of a man-of-war.
About the year 1847 an accident befell Mr. Nobbs’ eldest son, which
nearly proved fatal. He, in company with some other young men, had one
day gone out to hunt goats. As they were returning home, Reuben Nobbs
slipped and fell. The loaded gun he carried was instantly discharged,
most of its contents being lodged in his right hip, while the ball
passed entirely through. He was brought home, and his father attended
him. Month after month passed, and, although he did not grow worse
there still was no perceptible improvement. When the next man-of-war
came, the _Spy_, her surgeon examined the wound, and, probing it,
extracted large pieces of wadding, the presence of which had prevented
recovery. After that the cure was rapid, and the young man was soon
able to walk with the help of a crutch. But the result was a lameness
that unfitted him for such work as life on the island required, and,
as he had good business abilities, his father, who had friends in
Valparaiso, wrote to them asking if they would kindly obtain for his
son some means of gaining a living. The answer was favorable, and in
due time Reuben Nobbs arrived at Valparaiso, to begin his duties as
clerk in a commercial establishment. He was cordially received, and,
by a diligent application to work, and the determination to please
his employers, he succeeded not only in learning to do that which
was required of him, but also in giving entire satisfaction to his
employers during his whole stay.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
CHAPTER IX.
THE QUEEN’S BIRTHDAY
THE YEAR 1848 is remembered as the first year when the 24th of May,
the Queen’s birthday, was kept as a holiday. The young men, with Mr.
Nobbs at their head, started the celebration. The _Bounty’s_ old gun
was made to do duty on the occasion in firing a salute in honor of Her
Majesty, and every old musket that could be put to such a use, with as
heavy charges as could be carried, was pressed into service to assist
the _Bounty’s_ gun in making all the noise possible. The one bell on
the island was kept ringing merrily, while, to add to the other sounds,
cheer after cheer rang from the throats of the whole community, who had
assembled to show loyalty to their sovereign.
The bell was a gift presented to the islanders in 1844 by the people on
board the _Basilisk_, man-of-war, to be used for calling the worshipers
to church. For years a bugle horn had been used for this purpose, and
when that wore out, a musket took its place, one shot being fired as
the hour for divine service approached. The musket was in use at the
time of the _Basilisk’s_ visit. The beautiful, deep-toned bell, that
was so thoroughly appreciated, at once displaced the discordant old
musket, but never had it rung so merrily, nor so long, as when it lent
its aid to celebrate the Queen’s birthday.
But, with all the noise they were able to produce, they felt that
something important was lacking. They had no song suitable for the
great occasion. The national anthem was then unknown, and what were
they to do in this dilemma? Fortunately, the question did not long
remain unanswered. The loyal-hearted and enthusiastic Mr. Nobbs proved
himself equal to the occasion. A song was quickly composed, and
heartily, if not harmoniously, sung by the untrained voices of the
islanders, to the tune of “The Girl I Left behind Me.” The concluding
stanza—
“We’ll fire the gun, the _Bounty’s_ gun,
And set the bell a-ringing,
And give three cheers for England’s Queen,
And three for Pitcairn’s Island,”
was followed by a succession of ringing cheers, repeated until the
hills echoed again with the sound.
The memory of that day, with all its noise and merriment, and the
simple pleasures that were so thoroughly enjoyed, was kept fresh in
the minds of the women, who determined not to be outdone by the
men. Accordingly, they made what preparations they could for their
celebration, when the day came around again.
Let me tell you first something about the dress of the women of that
period. They no longer wore exclusively, Sundays as well as week days,
the homely frock gathered into a band around the throat, and beneath
this frock a scant petticoat such as had been worn since they had known
the use of the needle. Gradually, gowns, long waisted and bone ribbed,
after the patterns sent on shore by ship captains’ wives, and also from
time to time sent to the island by friends in England and elsewhere,
took the place, for Sunday wear, of the primitive frock that had been
worn so long.
Every woman’s ambition was to possess a gown, and, notwithstanding
the difficulties attending the cutting and fitting, each one was
supplied, the more elderly women wearing a pattern differing somewhat
from that which the younger women wore. Mr. Nobbs did what he could to
advance the tastes of the women in regard to dress, and upon his wife
devolved the dreadful task of cutting and fitting, made thus dreadful
because there was no previous knowledge of the art; and several days
would elapse before even one garment would be ready for the needle.
Fortunately, some of the younger women were quick to learn, and, in
spite of limited advantages, they were soon able to take the burden
from Mrs. Nobbs’ hands. Occasionally help was given them by some of
the ship captains’ wives that visited the island. Knitting was also
taught by them, but soon became a lost art.
[Illustration: THE ISLAND SAWMILL.]
On the Queen’s birthday in question, the matrons and maidens decided
to dress in their best—white gowns preferred—and spend the day as
their fancy led them. One old grandmother proposed that a knot of
white ribbon be worn on the left shoulder, which was done, strips of
cloth supplying the place of ribbons. When the twenty-fourth day of
May arrived, cloudless and beautiful, it was greeted with loud and
loyal cheers from all, while the women and girls rose with the dawn
to array themselves in honor of the day, and surprise their husbands
and brothers, fathers and lovers, with their display, as all their
preparations had been kept secret.
The men were invited to come and join in the merrymaking, and they
obeyed with alacrity. All work was laid aside, and everyone entered
heartily into the sports and games that followed. The older women
attended to the babies and prepared the early supper, the materials
for which had been supplied beforehand. After the plentiful repast,
all were at liberty to enjoy themselves as they pleased. The daughters
of the mutineers, being now themselves the grandmothers, entered with
zest into the sports, and contributed not a little to the general
entertainment by reviving many of the games learned from their Tahitian
mothers.
They introduced into their games and sports the beating of calabashes
with sticks, performed with extreme precision, to which the players
kept time, moving with noiseless step and an easy grace that was
pleasing to witness. This performance was called the _ihara_. Another
native dance, the _uri_, was performed by Susannah, the girl of fifteen
who came in the _Bounty_, now an old woman of seventy-four, and blind
in one eye. She displayed remarkable liveliness in honor of the Queen’s
birthday, and her performance provoked mirth from the younger people,
who had never seen the dance before. This old woman died in the
September following, 1850, at the age of seventy-five, being the last
survivor of those who came to the island from Tahiti sixty years before.
The merry players kept up the dancing to a late hour. What mattered
if most of them danced with bare feet; that did not affect their
light-heartedness and happiness. A drum and tambourine supplied all the
music they wanted. The island boasted one fiddle, but no one considered
himself sufficiently expert in the use of the bow to volunteer his
services. At last the simple enjoyments of the day ended, only to
linger in the memory as a bright and pleasing recollection.
The singing of the islanders had been improved as the years passed.
When John Adams had the sole care of the young community, he did not
neglect entirely the training of their voices, although the result
was not all that could be wished. He succeeded in impressing on their
memories one simple and plaintive air, which, slightly modified, was
made to suit either common, short, or long meter. This was the only
attempt at singing made by the islanders until Buffett came amongst
them. The ninety-fifth psalm of Watts’ Version was a great favorite
among the people, and that to which John Adams’ tune was oftenest
sung.[4] Buffett soon sought to introduce at least a change of tunes
into the services of the church, and, being gifted with a good voice,
he managed, with the help of an accordion, to lead the people a few
steps further on. A book of church music given him at Tahiti supplied a
variety of tunes, but nothing more was attempted than the simple air.
Nor were the tunes sung in unison, as the following incident will show.
[Footnote 4: It was a custom with the three daughters of John Adams,
even until advanced age, to meet together, and read a portion of God’s
word. They would unfailingly close their devotions by singing the tune
their father taught them. A stanza from the second psalm, which they
always sang, found in the Scottish Bibles, seems peculiarly associated
with the plaintive air. It is as follows:—
“A sure decree I will declare,—
The Lord has said to me,
‘Thou art my only Son; this day
Have I begotten thee.’”
On his first visit to Norfolk Island, and at his special request, the
three old ladies sang the above to the late and much-loved Bishop
Selwyn, their pleasant acquiescence and unaffected, simple manners
winning for them the admiration and esteem of the good bishop and his
lady.]
In the earlier part of 1850 a ship touched at the island on her way
to California. Five gentlemen, four of whom were passengers, came on
shore. The fifth was the supercargo of the vessel. The day following
was Sunday, and the visitors attended service in the little church with
the islanders, Mr. Nobbs officiating as pastor, while John Buffett led
the singing. If the visitors expected to derive pleasure from that
most delightful part of public worship, they were disappointed. The
effect produced by the congregation, singing without regard to time or
tune, was so discordant and jarring that Mr. Carleton, the supercargo,
declared that the sounds grating upon his ears nearly compelled him to
take his hat and leave the house.
The next day, Monday, the ship was seen at a long distance from the
island, but, thinking that the captain would certainly return for
his passengers, no apprehensions were entertained that they would be
left behind. But so it proved, and the only explanation that could be
given of the captain’s conduct was that the wind, which was favorable,
was steadily increasing, and he did not want to lose it. He left his
passengers to the hospitality of the islanders, and the kind favor of
the first captain that should call going the same way, and took away
with him one of the islanders who was on board when the ship sailed.
This man went to California and returned by way of Sydney.
When the surprised and forsaken passengers had ascertained that they
had been left behind, they wisely decided to make the best of the
circumstances. Mr. Carleton, who was highly gifted with musical talent,
mentioned to John Buffett the matter of trying to improve the singing
of the people. In reply he was requested to undertake the task. This
he at first declined, saying that he would not have the time he should
require to produce anything like a satisfactory result, and so would
rather not attempt it. However, as no opportunity came within the week
for him to leave the island, he finally yielded to Buffett’s earnest
and oft-repeated requests, and consented to make a beginning.
He invited all who were willing to come, to meet every evening at one
of the houses, and from among them he chose such as seemed to possess
some musical ability. These he instructed particularly, that they might
be able to carry forward the work. The pleasing results produced by
harmony of sounds served to awaken in the hearts of the learners such
eagerness and anxiety to do their best as to greatly encourage their
teacher in his efforts. With the determination to succeed, it was not
very surprising that in the short space of one week they accomplished
a result beyond their highest hopes, and when Mr. Carleton took his
departure the second week after, it was in full confidence that the
important work which had so well begun, would not be left to stagnate.
Nor was he mistaken. An old man used to tell how he was affected by
the first sounds of harmony that he heard. He said: “The first tune I
listened to was Devizes. Buffett was singing the air, and Mr. Carleton
the bass. I stood by open mouthed, drinking in the sweet sounds, and
thinking it must be like heaven.”
When Mr. Carleton left the island, he was accompanied by Mr. Brodie,
one of the four passengers, who pleaded that the captain should take
him, instead of any of the others, as there were accommodations on
the ship for only two. This gentlemen afterward wrote an interesting
account of the island, which he published. Baron de Thierry, one of
the remaining three, continued the work begun by Mr. Carleton. He
attempted to teach drawing also, but without success, possibly because
the fingers of his pupils, having from earliest childhood been trained
to use the hoe and to manage the wheelbarrow, could not be made to hold
and carry the pencil. The baron one night when Mr. Carleton was engaged
in teaching his singing class, caused the singing to give place to a
hearty burst of merriment. One of the pupils, with her strong, clear
voice, was ascending the scale, and as she arose to the highest notes
without any apparent effort, enunciating every syllable clearly and
distinctly, the baron called out: “Stop, stop. No one but my daughter
is able to do it like that.”
The enforced stay of the five gentlemen on Pitcairn Island was
productive of one of the best and most satisfactory results, for all
the subsequent pleasure and delight that the people, both of Pitcairn
Island and Norfolk Island, derive from music, instrumental as well as
vocal, had their origin in those early lessons taught by Mr. Carleton.
The memory of this man is revered and loved among the people, who
owe to him so much of the pleasure they receive from this high and
ennobling art.
[Illustration]
CHAPTER X.
Visit of H.M.S. Portland
THE TIME was now drawing near when an important change was to take
place in the history of the Pitcairn islanders. Ever since it had been
arranged that the island should be visited yearly by a British ship of
war, its arrival was the looked-for event of each year. When Admiral
Sir Fairfax Moresby was commander in chief on the Pacific station, an
officer on board one of Her Majesty’s ships, while on a visit to the
island, proposed that the women send a request to the admiral to pay
them a visit. A letter was written forthwith, and signed by several of
the island matrons and maidens. The admiral was pleased to respond to
the letter in person, and arrived at the island in August, 1852, in his
flagship, the _Portland_. His coming was greeted by the people with
every demonstration of joy, which reached its height when, gathered
beneath a grove of orange trees, they listened to the band that the
admiral had kindly ordered ashore, and enjoyed such delicious strains
of music as they never had dreamed of. From the admiral down to the
humblest seaman, everybody on board the _Portland_ showed kindness
to the islanders, so much so that the visits of the _Portland_ were
considered by the people as comprising the golden period in their
island’s history. The admiral was accompanied by two of his sons, the
younger of whom, Mr. Fortescue Moresby, by his pleasant, cheerful ways
and winning manners, endeared himself greatly to the hearts of the
islanders.
Among the earliest subjects that engaged Admiral Moresby’s attention
was the position of Mr. Nobbs as an unordained pastor of the people,
and he took on himself the responsibility of sending that gentleman
to England, with a letter of recommendation to the bishop of London,
requesting him to receive Mr. Nobbs as a candidate for ordination,
adding that his faithful services to the people of his adopted home,
and the good that he had been the means of accomplishing, might be
considered in place of whatever deficiency there was in his theological
training.
[Illustration: PARLIAMENT OF PITCAIRN ISLAND.]
When the _Portland_ left Pitcairn Island, Mr. Nobbs left too,
accompanied by one of his daughters, Miss Jane Nobbs, who went as far
as Valparaiso, where her brother Reuben was. Here she was received by
a very worthy family, who showed her every consideration and kindness.
Before Mr. Nobbs could consent to leave his flock, it was arranged that
the _Portland’s_ chaplain, Mr. Holman, should remain behind and
supply the place of the absent pastor. A lad from the _Portland_ also
remained with Mr. Holman. The people on the whole regarded it as a very
satisfactory arrangement, although no one could quite fill the place
Mr. Nobbs had so long and so ably filled.
Arriving at Valparaiso, Mr. Nobbs took passage on the steamer _Orinoco_
to England, which place he safely reached, and was duly ordained. The
late Prince Consort honored him with an interview, and he had also a
glimpse of the Queen. Indeed, Her Majesty, in passing, extended to him
her royal hand, which he warmly grasped, and heartily shook, after
which she quietly, and without a word, passed on. This little incident
was often recalled by the worthy man, and always with some degree of
amusement at the possible mistake he made at the time. In Mr. Nobbs’
interview with his Royal Highness, the Prince showed much kindly
interest in his far-distant home, and made many inquiries respecting
his labors there. A salary of £50 a year was granted him, and, had
there been proof that Mr. Nobbs had indeed been promoted to the rank of
lieutenant in the naval service, another fifty would have been added.
His stay in England was too short to admit of his accepting many of
the numerous invitations given him by persons of rank and wealth, but
in one particular case he never ceased to regret that circumstances
made it impossible for him to attend. This was an invitation to call on
Messrs. Wilson and Cook, gentlemen who had sent large gifts of useful
household articles to Pitcairn Island a short time before. In May,
1853, Mr. Nobbs reached home again, the whole time of his absence not
extending over nine months.
One very sad and fatal accident had happened during his absence. When
the _Portland_ reached Valparaiso, Admiral Moresby sent the _Virago_ on
to Pitcairn Island, that the people might see a steamship for the first
time. She came in the month of January, near its close. On the day that
she was to leave, almost everybody was on board, and the vessel had
steamed around the little island, much to the wonder and delight of the
people. It was toward the close of the day, and when the people were
about to return on shore, that a farewell salute from the _Bounty’s_
gun was to be fired. Among those who were attending to the gun was
the magistrate, Matthew McCoy. The ramrod used on the occasion was an
old, smoothly-planed rafter made from the wood of the cocoanut tree,
very hard, and which had been used in building. Unknown to those in
attendance was a nail in the rafter. This, coming in contact with the
gun, already heated by the sun, caused the powder to ignite before all
was ready. In an instant the gun was discharged, and the men attending
it were scattered in all directions, several feet from the spot.
The untimely discharge soon brought a small crowd of the people left on
shore to the scene of the accident, and, as the disaster was witnessed
from the _Virago_, the boats were quickly got ready, and as soon as
possible the doctor and his assistants were at the place. Two young
men, William Evans and Driver Christian, were severely wounded, but
Matthew McCoy had received his death blow. His right arm was fearfully
shattered, and he was, besides, much bruised and injured. The arm
was amputated, in the hope that his life might be spared, but all
that surgical skill could do was of no avail, for during the night of
January 27, 1853, he died. Thus ended, in sadness and gloom, the day
that had dawned so brightly, and which had been so greatly enjoyed by
all. The dead man was buried with funeral honors, all the officers
and men that could be spared from the _Virago_ being present. But
no outward display could allay the sorrow or calm the grief of the
desolate widow and fatherless children, who so deeply mourned their
irreparable loss. Before the _Virago_ sailed, the _Bounty’s_ gun was
spiked to prevent it from ever being used again. After having lain and
rusted for nearly forty years, it was at length used as the foundation
for a flagstaff.
As stated above, Mr. Nobbs reached home in May and immediately resumed
his duties as pastor, the people observing that he seemed to have
acquired a somewhat more dignified bearing after having been ordained,
although his thorough kindliness of disposition and interest in
everything that concerned the people’s welfare, remained unchanged.
The arrival of the _Portland_ was most timely, as the people were
suffering from the effects of a severe drought, and were obliged to
subsist on whatever they could get, unripe pumpkins forming their
principal diet. Liberal supplies from the ship’s stores provided them
with sufficient food to last until better times appeared. The admiral
then left, taking with him Mr. Holman and the lad that had remained
with him. The _Portland_ proceeded on her way to the Gambier Islands,
but soon returned, going on to Valparaiso. As she came near enough
to Pitcairn Island for the people to communicate by signals, one of
distress was hoisted, for the islanders, almost without an exception,
were suffering greatly from an attack of influenza. Misinterpreting
the signal, the _Portland_ kept on, but was stopped when a boat was
seen putting off from the land, manned by a few poor fellows, who
were hardly able to manage their oars. On learning the cause of their
coming, the admiral and his officers at once went on shore, and the
report of the men was confirmed by the sight of the pitiable condition
of the islanders.
Everything that kindness could suggest was done for the sufferers, all
the visitors doing what they could to relieve the distress around them;
nor did they take their final leave of the island until there were
visible signs of improvement. So attached had all the islanders become
to the people on the ship that much real sorrow was felt at parting;
indeed, the leave taking was such that men, as well as women and
children, wept freely, as they looked their last on the faces of the
kind friends who had done so much for them, and who were not ashamed
to mingle their tears with the tears of those they were leaving behind.
The blessings of a grateful people followed their departing visitors.
Reuben Nobbs, who had accompanied his father and sister home from
Valparaiso, remained with his family for a few months; but, on the
arrival of H. M. S. _Dido_, in the following year, he prepared to
return to his duties at Valparaiso on that ship. But his stay was
short, and he was soon home again, as consumption had made rapid
progress. Kind and willing hands carried him from the place where he
was landed, for he was universally beloved, and conveyed him to his
home, where he lingered on until March 2, 1855, when he died.
Two accidents, each fatal in its nature, happened shortly after this.
The first death was the result of a wound in the foot of a lad, caused
by the barbed point of an arrow made of iron. Lockjaw set in, and after
the terrible agonies that followed, he died. The other accident was
sudden, and death was instantaneous. It was on a Saturday, and most
of the men were out in their canoes fishing. A young man named Daniel
McCoy, with his wife, went to the northwest side of the island, at
a place called the Lookout, to fish among the rocks. Several other
young people went in the same direction, but separated themselves into
different parties to fish.
Dan and his wife went alone to a spot to reach which they must either
swim a narrow passage of water, or climb a few steps, and then descend
a steep and very dangerous path among the rocks. They chose the latter,
and in making the descent the young man lost his hold, slipped, and
fell. The fall was not high, scarcely ten feet; but he fell heavily and
broke his back. With one dreadful groan, and a last dying look upon his
wife, he immediately expired. Almost distracted, she went in search
of their companions, who were at some distance from them, fishing.
Grief and horror seemed to lend wings to her speed, as she passed over
the rough stones and jagged rocks that for the most part formed her
pathway. Only a few minutes sufficed for her to reach a spot where she
could see her companions, and make them understand by signs that their
assistance was required. The frantic cries and wild gesticulations at
once convinced them that something dreadful had occurred, and they
instantly started to learn what had happened.
It was soon told, and, while some of the fishing party returned with
the bereaved wife to the scene of the awful accident, others hastened
home to tell the sad news, and to get assistance to carry the body
home. As nearly all the men were out fishing, these had to be summoned
by means of signals, and as soon as possible a whaleboat was launched
to go on the sad errand. In a short time the scarcely cold, lifeless
burden was tenderly placed within, and taken back to the home whence,
but a few hours before, he had left in all the strength and pride of
young manhood. Scarcely anything noteworthy occurred during the twelve
months that followed the death of Daniel McCoy, which took place on
the seventh day of April, 1855. Life gradually assumed its ordinary,
monotonous round; but every day was bringing nearer the day when
everything was to be changed.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
CHAPTER XI.
Removal to NORFOLK ISLAND
WHEN, in 1853, Admiral Moresby visited Pitcairn Island, he saw that the
rapidly increasing numbers of the inhabitants would soon necessitate a
removal of a part, or the whole, of the community to a larger place,
although he judged that Pitcairn Island, if brought under proper
cultivation, was capable of maintaining a thousand inhabitants. The
admiral argued that as a removal must be made at some future time, it
would be the wisest course to have it done as early as possible, only
he stipulated that all the people should go together.
And now the time was rapidly approaching. A report was sent to the
home government concerning the matter, and early in the year 1856 H.
M. S. _Juno_ was sent from the colonies to inform the islanders that
arrangements were being made for their removal to a larger island,
and also to advise them to make the necessary preparations for their
departure.
The tidings were received with different feelings. Some were ready to
seize the opportunity of improving their worldly prospects, and the
very thought of a change from their hitherto quiet lives was hailed
with delight, while others, to whom home and its associations were
dearer than any prospect that could be held out to them, preferred to
remain, and probably were only restrained from so doing because the
advice of their good friend, the admiral, was that all should go and
receive their grant of land.
The island chosen for the future home of the Pitcairn islanders was
Norfolk Island, once a penal settlement. The island is about twenty
miles in circumference, and well capable of maintaining several
thousand inhabitants.
In the latter part of April, 1856, the _Morayshire_, commanded by
Captain Joseph Mathers, arrived from Sydney, to carry the emigrants
to their new home. By the second day of May everything was ready,
and the time had come to say farewell to the dear old spot where
all their lives had been spent. Some, with buoyant hopes and bright
expectations, stepped on board the ship that was to carry them away,
while others—and these the far greater number—with sad hearts and
tear-dimmed eyes left their island home. Utterly lonely and desolate,
the little rock stood in the vast ocean as it slowly receded from view,
and many a silent tear was shed and final farewell whispered for the
dear old home that most of them were to behold no more, and which to
many was most sacred because of the loved ones sleeping there.
The passage to Norfolk Island was accomplished in thirty-six days, and
was, on the whole, rather pleasant than otherwise to the emigrants.
But few of them suffered from seasickness during the entire voyage. On
the 8th of June, 1856, the _Morayshire_ arrived at Norfolk Island, and
well pleased was the worthy captain to get rid of the noisy crowd, the
children more especially, who tried his patience sorely, and who often
enlivened the ship with their cries and screams. No death occurred
on the passage, but one poor little baby who was sick all the way,
lingered only a few days after landing, and then died.
When the _Morayshire_ arrived at Norfolk Island, H. M. S. _Herald_
was already there surveying. Boats from the latter ship boarded the
new arrival, bringing acceptable supplies of fresh provisions. Her
people also very kindly assisted in landing the emigrants and their
goods. The crew of a whaling vessel rendered help as well. When the
_Morayshire_ left, after a stay of a little over two weeks, the captain
took away the few persons that had been on the island to take care
of the property ere it passed into other hands. The passengers who
left Norfolk Island on the _Morayshire_ were a Mr. Stuart, who acted
as governor, and his wife, a man by the name of Rogers, his wife and
little daughter, and an elderly couple named Waterson. Besides these
were eight reformed convicts, whose work was to look after the affairs
of the place.
Old Mrs. Waterson related a dream that made an impression upon her
mind. A few nights before the emigrants landed, she seemed to see a
woman, tall, large, and dark complexioned, standing by her side. So
vivid was everything connected with the dream, even to the woman’s
name, Rachel, that she felt convinced that the person was on the coming
ship. Accordingly, when the people landed, she started off in search
of the reality, and scanned with curious eagerness each face that she
saw. Not meeting on the street anyone that answered to the description,
she went on toward the pier, and, within a few minutes’ walk of the
place, discovered the object of her search sitting on the steps of the
Convicts’ Hospital. A warm welcome and greeting followed, with the
explanation that the acquaintance had been already made in a dream,
and Mrs. Waterson was especially gratified to learn that the dream was
true to the very name, the person being Rachel Evans, the daughter of
John Adams. Even before the old lady left the island, the pleasing
acquaintance had ripened into warm friendship.
Rogers’ occupation on the island was that of a stock keeper and
overseer. Walking along a certain road one day, in company with some of
the recent settlers, he observed, in a playful spirit, that when that
particular road was being made, he was among the gang of convicts so
employed, having been sent to Norfolk Island on the charge of striking
down his superior officer. “But,” he remarked pleasantly, “my term of
punishment expired some time ago.” Seven other men, ex-convicts nearly
all, made up the total of those who remained to look after the place.
These men attended to the live stock, milked the cows, kept the dairy,
and performed such work. The kindness and attention shown by every one
of them to the newcomers could not be surpassed.
Each one exerted himself in pointing out to the new arrivals the
different buildings and their various uses, among them the old and
new barracks, the government house, the jail and prison, all strongly
built of stone, some of which were beautiful as well as strong. Many
dreadful tales were also told concerning the island and those who were
sent there to be punished, but scarcely a trace remained to testify to
the truth of the dark stories of blood and crime. At one place, outside
of the burying ground, was shown a mound several feet in length, where
moldered the dust of thirteen men who were hung for some dreadful crime
on the trees above, while their open grave yawned beneath them.
[Illustration: GROUP OF NATIVE CHILDREN.]
An eyewitness related how, one day, when a gang of convicts was
constructing a bridge over a stream, one of them murdered a constable
who was in charge of the gang. From this dreadful act the scene of the
murder received its name, and the “Bloody Bridge” stands, a lasting
monument of the awful crime committed there. A tragic story was told
of a convict who contrived to make his escape from Norfolk Island to
another small island some three miles distant, called Philip Island.
By some means this man, known as Jacky-Jacky, was discovered, and a
boat was immediately dispatched to secure the escaped prisoner. Finding
himself discovered and pursued, and choosing death rather than capture,
Jacky-Jacky started to the highest point of the island, several hundred
feet above the sea level, where he cast himself off and so perished.
These were only some of the stories that were told by those who were
themselves witnesses of the awful scenes, stories still more dark and
fearful in their nature than were those in connection with the early
settlement of the island lately deserted by the emigrants. But the
deeds of horror and bloodshed had passed away with the lives of those
who committed them, and everything betokened calmness and peace when
the little colony entered on their newly granted possession.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
CHAPTER XII.
A Goodly Heritage
NORFOLK ISLAND, henceforth to become the home of the Pitcairn
islanders, possesses remarkable beauty. Having all their lives been
accustomed to wooden houses of the plainest description, roofed with
thatch, and standing here and there embosomed amid trees, the sight
of regularly laid out streets and stone-built houses was an entirely
new experience to the new settlers. When they took possession of their
present home, all the dwelling houses, as well as the government
buildings, were in a good state of preservation, and some of the latter
were splendid structures.
The government house occupied a conspicuous place on a slight eminence
nearly in the center of the town, and its spacious apartments, as well
as its exterior, were well kept. The large garden adjoining showed
signs of former care, but everything had been allowed to run wild,
and the grapevines mingled in happy confusion with the honeysuckle,
nasturtium, and other flowering creepers.
Inclosed within high stone walls were the buildings of the old and new
barracks, while near to the latter stood the ruins of what had been a
fine hospital, which a fire had destroyed. Next to this, but separated
by a wall, was the handsome commissariat store—now the church of the
present inhabitants.
The large, gloomy prison was the central figure in a group of buildings
that stood near the sea, having the Protestant church on one side,
and the Roman Catholic chapel on the other. This still retained many
signs of the outward services of the latter church, notably the gaudy
pictures that ornamented the walls, a large one being that of the
virgin and child.
Separated from these churches by a narrow, sunless passage, formed
by the surrounding walls, were the jail buildings, strongly built of
stone. Of special interest was the place where the gallows used to be
erected when death was the penalty for crime. Although the time had
gone by forever when such scenes could be witnessed, a feeling akin
to horror could not be suppressed when passing beneath the spot where
so many had taken their last farewell of life, and the silent, narrow
cells around seemed almost in the echo of one’s footfall to give forth
the sad sighs and groans of despair, as the condemned criminal awaited
the moment when he should be called forth to meet his doom.
Until a more settled state of things was reached, on their immediate
arrival the families were arranged into groups of two and three, and
messed together. Two women, whose respective families occupied the
same house, went out one day in search of green herbs for food. They
congratulated themselves on finding a good supply of onions, and
brought their treasures home, pleased at the thought of the relish they
would add to the evening meal. A hearty laugh greeted the discovery
that their precious onions were the bulbs of the narcissus, which in
their ignorance they had so naturally mistaken for onions.
The dwelling houses differed in every respect from, and were altogether
superior to, the thatched cottages that the people had so lately
occupied. These were built mostly of stone, the walls within being
neatly plastered, and they were roofed with shingles, supplied from the
Norfolk Island pine. The houses generally consisted of four large rooms
with chimneys attached. Each kitchen, which was a separate building,
was floored with stone, and had a spacious fireplace and a brick oven
on one side of the chimney. The interior was made light and clean by
being frequently whitewashed. Attached to each cottage was a garden;
and flowers fair and fragrant delighted the senses of both sight and
smell. Altogether the change was a decided gain, and everything bespoke
only prosperity and happiness in store for the people that had been so
highly favored.
[Illustration: THE “PITCAIRN” AND MAN-OF-WAR OFF PITCAIRN ISLAND]
To the Pitcairn islanders Norfolk Island was literally a land “flowing
with milk and honey.” Although the sight of a cow was a familiar one
to them, they were scarcely prepared for the large numbers of strong,
healthy cattle that they saw, which supplied the milk, while honey was
obtained from the hollow trees where the wild bees built their hives.
The island, too, supported some two or three thousand sheep, besides
cattle and horses; but the sheep were not entirely free from disease,
and many of them died. The grass that covered a large portion of the
island afforded abundant pasture for the flocks and herds that fed
there.
The soil and climate of the island were favorable for the cultivation
of various fruits, and lemons, guavas, peaches, figs, white and purple
grapes, loquats, quinces, mulberries, pomegranates, watermelons, etc.,
etc., were produced in great abundance.
The island was well wooded. Extensive groves of the Norfolk Island
pine lent their aid to delight the eye, while a variety of noble trees
beautified and enriched the land, their luxuriant foliage affording a
pleasing shade for the feathered songsters that awoke the echoes so
sweetly with their warbling notes.
Streams of water traverse the island in several directions, while not
infrequently the water is hid from view by the thick growth of flags
and reeds that cover their marshy banks, and the streams themselves
teem with eel life. The abundant supply of water was by no means the
least of the blessings that had been bestowed upon the people, for in
their old home they had known what it was to suffer for want of water.
But now “the lines were fallen unto them in pleasant places; yea,
they had a goodly heritage.” Indeed, so fair was that heritage that
it seemed impossible to realize that it was ever the abode of so much
misery and crime; and the words of the Christian poet could not have
been more aptly applied than to this lovely island,
“Where every prospect pleases,
And only _man_ is vile.”
Along the southern shore stretches a long line of coral reef, and this,
extending some distance into the sea, renders it unsafe for a ship to
approach too near the land. A little beyond this reef stands a rock
known as Nepean Island, only relieved from utter barrenness by one
or two pine trees. On this rock the whale birds congregate in great
numbers to deposit their eggs, which are eagerly sought for by the
people for food. While Nepean Island is covered with sea birds in their
laying season, Philip Island, which stands further seaward, is overrun
with wild rabbits, that make their home there and feed on the scanty
herbage that the poor soil produces. Excellent fish of many varieties
abound in the waters around the island. Surrounded with all that they
needed, and still living together in one unbroken circle, everything
seemed to promise contentment and happiness. But, as will be seen, it
was not long before the hearts of some pined for the old home, and
desired to return.
About two months after the new settlers had arrived, the bishop of New
Zealand visited Norfolk Island in his yacht _Southern Cross_, bringing
a large supply of flour and other necessary things for the people’s
immediate wants. He had come to the island a short time before, but as
the _Morayshire_ had not yet arrived, had returned to New Zealand. Now,
on this second trip, he had brought his lady with him, and also his
chaplain, the Rev. J. C. Patteson, who was destined to become a martyr
to the cause he loved.
Mrs. Selwyn remained on Norfolk Island, while the bishop went back
to his labors. She soon won the hearts of the people, and gave much
assistance in teaching in the day school as well as in the Sunday
school. She tried to impress upon the minds of the young women
and girls whom she taught, the importance of practicing habits of
cleanliness and industry while young, teaching them also how to cook.
This energetic lady was not satisfied with merely giving instruction,
but would frequently visit her scholars at their homes to see whether
those instructions had been followed or not. In this way more lasting
good was accomplished, and much real benefit resulted from her patient
and conscientious labors.
When the Pitcairn islanders first came into possession of Norfolk
Island, they understood that the island belonged to them, for so
had they interpreted the letter sent them before their removal, by
Sir William Denison, the governor at that time of New South Wales.
On arriving at their new home they found that two men were already
there to divide the land among the new arrivals. These latter
quietly informed them that their services were not needed, as the
islanders were able to manage for themselves. The two men left on
the _Morayshire_, and, having reported to the proper authorities,
two other surveyors were promptly dispatched to Norfolk Island with
orders to measure the entire island and divide it into fifty-acre
lots. Each family had fifty acres to a share, a rather smaller portion
than they had at first shared out among themselves. Subsequently,
when the governor himself visited the island, his letter was shown
him as sufficient authority to justify the people in the course they
had taken. This document he calmly got possession of, and remarked
something to the effect that matters were somewhat changed since the
letter was penned.[5]
[Footnote 5: The possession of Norfolk Island was a much-mooted
question. When Bishop Selwyn was in charge of New Zealand as his
diocese, it was his wish to remove the headquarters of the Melanesian
Mission to Norfolk Island, but neither the Pitcairn Island committee at
home, nor the governor of New South Wales, Sir W. Denison, deemed it
best that it should be so. Some few years later, when Bishop Patteson
was head of the mission, the matter was again brought up. While some of
the people were in favor of the movement, others strongly opposed it,
but the matter was finally settled by the bishop’s purchasing several
thousand acres of land, being granted permission to do so by Sir John
Young, governor of New South Wales, he having been so authorized by the
home government. Thus was the desire of Bishop Selwyn’s heart fulfilled
in the removal of the Melanesian Mission from New Zealand to Norfolk
Island.
When His Excellency Lord Augustus Loftus made an official visit to
Norfolk Island in 1884, he sought to remove the impression “tenaciously
held” by the people that the island was entirely theirs, and spoke very
plainly to them respecting the use and abuse of the island, dwelling
strongly on the fact that so many trees should be suffered to be cut
down without planting others in their stead.]
On Sir William’s next visit to Norfolk Island he informed the people
that a schoolmaster and a miller with their families were then on
their way from England to settle amongst them. There were, besides, a
shoemaker and a stone mason. “But,” added the governor, “I stopped the
shoemaker in Sydney, for I did not like the looks of the man.”
A letter had been written to the people about this time by their old
friend the Baron de Thierry, then residing in Auckland. It contained
such sound advice and good counsel to the people respecting their right
use of the many privileges accorded them, that Sir William declared it
“worthy a place in the archives of the island.” The governor himself
gave much wise counsel to the people, and encouraged them to exert
themselves to the best of their ability in the discharge of their
several duties in the untried life that lay before them, showing how
much depended upon their own efforts to insure success in the general
improvement of themselves and their surroundings.
In due time the expected party from England arrived. The school, which
was then kept by Simon Young, was immediately given into the hands of
Mr. Thomas Rossiter. He was an excellent disciplinarian, and proved
himself fully qualified to assume the task of managing and controlling
the children, who often tried his patience. One of the spacious rooms
on the second floor of the new barracks had been converted into a
schoolroom, and here, once every week, Mr. Nobbs, for several years,
was in the habit of visiting the children for the purpose of giving
some religious instruction. This consisted principally in thoroughly
grounding them in the teachings of the church catechism, and putting
the more advanced pupils through a series of questions and answers
preparatory to their becoming candidates for confirmation.
Mr. Rossiter, while engaged in his daily duties as schoolmaster, also
encouraged the people to apply themselves to the cultivation of the
land, and to raise field and garden products for the yearly show which
he instituted. Both by advice and example he won encouraging success.
Under his skillful hand the wild confusion of the neglected government
garden gave place to order and beauty, and the rich, ripe clusters of
luscious grapes bore witness to the careful attention that was bestowed
on them.
James Dawe, the miller, did not find his business a very lucrative
one. Almost the first effort was to repair the water mill and the
adjoining dam, which had suffered from long neglect. The mill was soon
put in working order, saving thereby a great deal of labor. But some
disagreement arose between the miller and the party of men who worked
with him, which resulted in his leaving the island, with his family,
after a stay of less than two years. As for the stone mason, there was
no employment for him on the island, so, after repairing a broken wall
or two, he left again for Sydney, where he found good employment and
wages.
A new enterprise was undertaken by the quondam Pitcairners. Observing
that a great number of whales frequented the waters around the island
at certain seasons of the year, they decided to purchase boats and
every necessary article needed for the capture of these monsters. They
showed ready skill in this new undertaking, and succeeded well from the
first. The oil obtained a ready market both in Sydney and in Auckland.
[Illustration]
CHAPTER XIII.
Ho! for PITCAIRN
IN THE meanwhile two families had returned to their old home. The
superior advantages enjoyed in their new home, the greater household
conveniences, the larger educational privileges, the easier access to
and communication with the outside world, all failed to weigh as much
with them as the wish to see once more the place that they loved as
_home_. The families consisted of Moses Young, his wife and five young
children, and Mayhew Young, who had married the widow of Matthew McCoy,
their infant daughter, and six other children by the woman’s first
husband. These made up the first return party, sixteen souls in all,
four males and twelve females. Three daughters of the former Mrs. McCoy
remained on Norfolk Island, the two elder ones with their husbands,
and the youngest to be married. Had the children been consulted in the
matter, every one old enough to think would have chosen to remain, but
the only alternative was to obey and follow their parents.
A much larger party had at first decided to return, and had already
conveyed their goods on board the vessel that was to bear them away,
but the tears and persuasions of the friends from whom they were about
to part were more than they were able to resist, so they did not leave,
as they had at first intended. The parting was sad. One last gathering
in the church where they had worshiped for two years, one last mingling
of their voices together in the parting song, which was falteringly
sung, while sobs choked the utterance and tears dimmed the sight, and
then the final prayer was uttered in tremulous tones and with tender
earnestness by the lips of their faithful pastor, Mr. Nobbs, commending
the departing company to God’s care. Thus was the first separation
effected between the people that for sixty years had been dwelling
together like one family, sharing each other’s joys and sorrows—the
first separation, that held out no hope of ever meeting again. The
schooner _Mary Ann_, which took them away, left on the second day of
December, 1858, and reached her destination on the seventeenth day of
the following month, January, 1859, making a passage of forty-six days.
The few men that first landed from the schooner had been but a short
time on shore when they saw a boat, well manned, approaching the
landing place at Bounty Bay. The boat’s crew, as they soon discovered,
belonged to a French vessel, the _Josephine_.
[Illustration: FAMILY GROUP OF NATIVES.]
Closely following the first boat came another, but, meeting with some
accident at the landing place, the boats soon returned to their ship,
and she sailed away, much to the relief and satisfaction of the two
families who had come to stay, and who were not a little dismayed at
the thought of the stranger being so near to them.
The two families and their belongings were soon safely landed. An
inspection of the deserted village showed unmistakable proofs that
the island had been inhabited by someone for a short time, at least,
subsequent to the removal of the former inhabitants. A keg of salt,
some old crockery gathered from the deserted houses, and sundry other
household articles had been brought together, evidently for the use of
someone in need. Some of the houses had been destroyed by fire, while
others had been broken down. These were all so many evidences that the
island had been lately occupied. The matter, however, was soon cleared
up. A slate was picked up in the schoolroom whereon was written with
some iron instrument the names of some men who had found an asylum on
the island, after having lost their ship on Oeno, a low-lying coral
island, surrounded by reefs, some eighty miles northwest of Pitcairn
Island.
Further particulars were afterwards obtained, first, from an American
sailor who was left on the island by the captain of the whale ship
_Hiawatha_, and later from a copy of the _Friend_, sent to the island
by the people’s faithful friend, the Rev. Samuel C. Damon, of
Honolulu, Hawaiian Islands. In the _Friend_ was the account of the loss
of the _Wildwave_ on Oeno Island. The ship was under command of Captain
J. N. Knowles, who, in the early part of 1858, was on a voyage from San
Francisco to one of the Eastern States, and who, having lost his ship,
came with such of the crew as were willing to Pitcairn Island, where
they stayed until a boat had been constructed of such materials as the
island afforded, to convey them to Tahiti, whence a passage home could
be found.
About twenty-three years afterwards one of the lads who had returned
with the first party, now grown into a middle-aged man, was in San
Francisco. While there he called at the office of Captain Knowles, and
heard from that gentleman’s own lips the following interesting account
of their enforced detention on Pitcairn Island:—
The _Wildwave_ was outward bound from San Francisco, when she became a
wreck on the reefs of Oeno Island. Besides the captain, officers, and
crew, there were ten passengers, numbering in all about thirty-seven
persons, all of whom landed safely on the island. The remains of
a brother of Captain Knowles, which were being carried home for
interment, were also taken on shore and buried. The headstone that
accompanied the body was also set to mark the last resting place of the
dead. When everything that could contribute to their comfort had been
landed, the shipwrecked men proceeded at once to make the best of the
circumstances. Abundant food supplies had been brought ashore from
the ship, and if that should fail before help could come, the large
numbers of birds, as well as of fish, were sufficient to keep them from
starvation.
But the captain felt that some immediate action must be taken, and so,
as speedily as possible, a boat was made ready and provisioned, and
himself, Mr. Bartlett, the first mate, the carpenter, and four seamen
bade good-by to the thirty men left on Oeno, and came on to Pitcairn
Island, to obtain if possible help for themselves and their companions.
The captain, by a wise forethought, had, before leaving, taken the
second mate and others to mark the spot where three or four birds were
sitting on their eggs. These birds were then secured and taken along
with the party in the boat, to be their news carriers in the event of
their reaching their destined place in safety. This they did. They
landed on the west side of the island, and the boat was drawn up only a
few yards from the water’s edge, as it was the captain’s intention to
return as soon as possible to Oeno. This plan, however, was frustrated
by an unlooked-for calamity.
The captain’s and mate’s first care after dragging the boat to the
place where it was to be left, was to take out from it all their
nautical instruments, and then, taking the birds in their hands, they
started on their way up the high hill leading to the village. Strips
of leather had been prepared on which to send the message of their
safe arrival to their companions on Oeno. These missives having been
securely fastened to the birds, they were let go, and the party
stood somewhat anxiously watching them take their flight. At first
the unusual encumbrance seemed likely to impede their progress, and
the watchers saw them “turn round and round as if stunned a little,”
but they soon regained their wonted manner, and the men had the
satisfaction of seeing the birds take their way in the direct line
whence they had come. In time the men on Oeno had the pleasure of
learning of the safety of the little band who had gone to Pitcairn, but
the hope of soon seeing them again was not realized, and many months of
weary watching passed ere further word reached them.
Meanwhile, the seven men, after seeing to the safe flight of the birds,
proceeded on their way. Arriving at the top of the hill, they looked
down on the little village of thatched cottages nestling among orange
trees. These trees, even at that distance, were seen to be loaded with
golden fruit. The sight was a very pleasant one to the shipwrecked
men, but no rising smoke gave evidence that the place was inhabited.
A few minutes’ quick walking brought them down to the silent houses,
where not a human being was seen. For a day or two they remained in the
deserted village, intending soon to return to their companions on Oeno;
but the mate, having occasion to go over to the west side, found to his
dismay that the boat, which had been left too near the water, had been
not only reached by the heavy surf that had arisen in their absence,
but was broken beyond repair.
This unlooked-for disaster was the cause of grave anxiety, and all that
could be done was to go to work and construct another boat. This was
a very difficult matter, as materials and tools were scant and poor.
To obtain nails some of the houses were broken down, and others were
burned. Trees were cut down, and as the men had no saws, the ax was
made to do duty for both saw and ax, thus occasioning great loss of
time and material. But in spite of the many drawbacks, the work went
steadily and bravely on.
At length the boat was finished. The sail of the broken boat, and such
odds and ends as could be found in the houses, made up the rigging
of the little craft, which was named the _John Adams_. The trappings
of the old pulpit in the church supplied the red, and a bit of blue
calico taken from off an old bedstead served for the ground, on which
were arranged the white stars of the American flag; and so, with the
stars and stripes to float from the mast of their small vessel, it was
launched, after months of weary, anxious work and waiting, rendered
doubly anxious by the knowledge that the loved ones at home were pining
in suspense and uncertainty regarding their fate.
Two of the men, afraid of venturing in the boat they had helped to
build, stayed behind until help from a more reliable source could
come to them. Owing to adverse winds, Captain Knowles did not return
to Oeno, as he had at first intended, but steered for Tahiti instead,
making a brief call at the island of Nukahiva on the way. At Tahiti
they found the U. S. sloop-of-war _Vandalia_. The story of the
shipwreck and subsequent facts was soon told, and the _Vandalia_ went
at once to the rescue. Mr. Bartlett, the mate of the _Wildwave_, also
went with the rescuing party, who in due time reached Oeno, where they
found all the thirty men alive and well. These having been received on
board, the _Vandalia_ went to Pitcairn Island, where the other two men
of the crew were, both of whom were enjoying excellent health, but glad
to leave the place that was so lonely and isolated.
After Captain Knowles had reached Tahiti, he did not delay to take the
first opportunity to go home, as he was extremely anxious about his
wife, an anxiety which was only too well founded, for the poor lady had
died of hopeless grief and suspense concerning the fate of her husband.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
CHAPTER XIV.
AN UNPLEASANT SURPRISE
IN THE course of our narrative we now return to the two families on
Pitcairn. Their first night on shore was passed in one of the old
houses which was so thickly covered with a growth of the wild bean that
all felt sure it would afford the best protection against rain, if rain
should fall. But they were soon convinced of their mistake when, during
the night, a pouring rain roused them from their slumbers by coming in
upon them through the frail covering of the vines. Early the next day
they removed to another house, which afforded better accommodations,
and where they stayed until their own cottages were repaired. They had
but just finished the work of arranging their new abode to the best
advantage when some of the young girls sallied forth, accompanied by
one of their mothers, to have a look around the forsaken place. When
only a short distance from the house, they espied, coming towards them
through the bush-grown path, two men, who had just come ashore from
a ship, unknown to any of the party on the island. At sight of the
strangers, one of whom was carrying a gun, the other being a colored
man, the woman and girls screamed and fled, one of the girls in her
terror dropping several feet from the boughs of an orange tree up which
she had climbed.
Impelled by a haunting dread that something awful was about to happen,
they ran in breathless haste toward the house where the other woman
and children were. Their frightened looks told plainly enough that
something unusual had occurred, and, crowded close together, the story
of what they had seen was repeated. But they congratulated themselves
on the fact that their retreat would not be easily discovered, as the
path was well nigh hidden from view by the thick growth of weeds and
bushes. Worst of all, their natural protectors were all absent from
home at the time. Their terror could be better imagined than described
when, a few minutes having passed, the black man’s face appeared
through an opening in the trees, and immediately behind him was his
white companion. The lot of timid women and children could scarce
refrain from shrieking aloud, but the colored man assured them, with a
pleasant smile, that there was nothing to fear, and that the gun was
brought on shore for other game than themselves. It did not take long
to quiet their fears, when they discovered that the black man was
really a pleasant-spoken, kindly person; but the other man held aloof,
and scarcely had a word to say. They both gladly accepted food from the
hands of the women, who also gave them permission to take all the fruit
that they wished.
The visitors informed them that they had just come ashore from a
whaler, the _William Wirt_, and had brought their ammunition with them
for the purpose of obtaining game. Another whale ship came in on the
same day, and their respective crews carried back to their ships a
large supply of animal food, which they had taken in hunting, viz.,
goats, fowls, and fish, as all were so easily obtained on account of
their great numbers.
The search for hens’ eggs gave much pleasant occupation to the young
people, as the island was nearly overrun by the immense increase of
fowls; nor were the older folk less active in going out on an egg hunt
than the children. Life for them seemed one continuous round of present
enjoyment. There was scarcely any need for work, as the island produced
in lavish abundance more than sufficient, both of animal and vegetable
food, for their every want—goats, sheep, fowls, and plenty of fish,
which had become tame through having been left so long in their
undisturbed freedom. One obstacle in the way of the young people’s
pleasures was the presence of the few cattle on the island, the mere
sight of which was enough to make them run for refuge to the nearest
tree, if not within easy distance of their homes. As the island is too
small to allow the increase of cattle upon it, it was thought best to
extirpate them; and, most unwisely, the doomed cattle were in time all
destroyed.
[Illustration: BREADFRUIT.]
During those years the productiveness of the island was remarkable.
The breadfruit, yams, potatoes, taro, as well as the delicious fruits
that grew on the island, seemed untouched by the curse. It did not seem
possible that in a few years a change so complete could take place as
to affect almost the entire productions of the island. But so it was.
Being abundantly provided with food supplies, with scarcely an effort
of their own, the two families had not much to do. The making of
_tappa_, however, gave employment to all during three or four months
of the year, and heavy work it was too, with all the various processes
through which it passed. A description of the work may be given here.
First, the plants must be cut down and divested of their bark. Each
bark is then peeled and the inner portion beaten out until it becomes
soft, and the fibers separate. Washing is the next thing, and this is
repeated until every trace of the abundant sap is removed. By this time
the substance has widened to five times its natural width, and has a
beautiful lace-like appearance. It is then wrapped up in the large
leaves of the _appi_ (_arum gigantum_), sufficient being inclosed in
the wrap to make a sheet. Being allowed to remain for a few days, it
becomes soft and almost pulpy. Then it is ready to lay out in strips of
the required length, one bark being laid over another until the proper
thickness is obtained. The whole is then beaten out, two persons being
required to do this, as they stand on the opposite sides of a large,
long, and smoothly planed log, called a “dood-a,” and with their heavy
beaters keeping time with the utmost exactness. The work is noisy and
tiresome. When each sheet is finished, it is hardened by spreading out
daily in the sun. This is continued until the paper-like fabric can
bear washing. To render it tough it is dyed, the dye being obtained
by steeping the red inner bark of the _doodooee_ (candlenut tree) in
water. When dry the dye has a reddish brown color, which is very pretty
when fresh.
Most of this disagreeable work was performed by the two mothers of
the families, as they could not trust the delicate work of handling
the easily injured sheets to the inexperienced hands of the young
girls. These, from the age of eight to thirteen, grew up in almost
entire ignorance of the art of sewing, and this for the good reason
that they had nothing to learn with. Thread was too precious to waste
in teaching the children to sew, and should the few needles break or
be lost, there was no prospect of replacing them; besides, every bit
of calico which might be used for the purpose of learning to sew was
carefully hoarded as a future patch for the garment, which only too
readily became threadbare. Usually a slit in the sleeve or side of a
frock or petticoat was drawn together by means of a string which the
fibrous bark of the _boo-ron_ tree supplied. But these girls enjoyed
their wild, free life notwithstanding, and were happy in the possession
of perfect health, plenty to eat and drink, and their garments, if
poor, and even ragged, were kept as clean as the nature of their duties
allowed, while in their persons they were particularly clean.
Living such a free, wild life as they did, and with so much idle time
on their hands, it is not to be wondered at that the young people,
unaided, would turn their attention to books, and seek to educate their
minds in the knowledge to be gained from them. This fact caused much
anxiety to two, at least, of their number, Sarah McCoy, the oldest
girl, and also her brother. These two young people had been members
of Mrs. Selwyn’s class during their two years’ stay on Norfolk Island,
and nothing had caused them more regret on leaving that place than
the fact that they were by their removal cut off from so many of the
educational advantages obtained there, having just experienced enough
of the pleasures of knowledge to make them long for more. Urged by the
necessities of the case to do what they could, these two young persons
collected what books they thought would help them, which they found
in the old schoolroom, together with slates and pencils, and opened a
school in Mr. Nobbs’ former study, for a class of six or seven girls
and one boy, giving them lessons in reading, writing, and spelling,
teaching them also addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division.
But searching for hens’ eggs, taking care of chickens, running with a
wheelbarrow down some steep hill, swinging on the long hanging roots
of the great banyan trees, and other employments of a like nature,
were far more congenial to the tastes of the lively, healthy, and
active-limbed children than to sit droning lazily over their books and
drawling out “Ab-ba, father,” and so on; and when for some misbehavior
the youthful teacher would remonstrate, he would be greeted with a
derisive laugh; or should he attempt to administer the rod, he would
be met with such a spirit of defiance that his attempts at punishment
would be useless. Such scenes usually ended in the unruly scholar
climbing with the agility of a cat up the posts of the house, where he
would look down upon his teacher and feel secure from the well-merited
punishment.
[Illustration: CHILDREN AND WHEELBARROW.]
In spite of such untoward behavior from the older children, the
long-suffering teachers succeeded in accomplishing what they had set
themselves to do, and had the satisfaction of seeing their trying
pupils accomplish the task of learning to write, in addition to their
being able to read. They also learned to spell fairly well, and were
able to master the simpler rules in arithmetic. In October, 1860, H.
M. S. _Calypso_ visited the island, staying a few hours. The chaplain
of the ship came on shore, and manifested much interest in regard to
the religious instruction of the children and their right bringing up.
On leaving, the kind visitors supplied the little school with books,
slates and pencils, copy books, pens, penholders, and ink, a gift which
was thoroughly appreciated and most thankfully received.
On Sundays the two families met for worship in Moses Young’s house,
each of the two men at times taking part in conducting the services,
but more frequently the master of the house officiated, and in strict
accordance with the Church of England liturgy in the Book of Common
Prayer.
Moses Young, who owned a fife, on which he often discoursed sweet
music, was also an excellent performer on the fiddle. To the ability
he possessed of playing with considerable skill on these his favorite
instruments, was added a limited knowledge of written music, gained
under the able leadership of Mr. Hugh Carleton. This knowledge he
tried to put to the best account, and formed a class, composed of the
four adults, including himself, and as many of the young people as
wished to come, to whom he taught the gamut. Having drilled his little
class in “do, re, mi, fa, sol, la, ti, do,” and learning the skips,
_ad infinitum_, he made a sudden advance to a few of the old standard
church tunes, and succeeded in reviving, for the benefit of his
youthful learners, the old tunes of Truro and Clarendon, and teaching
them an entirely new tune besides. He did not accomplish more of his
laudable undertaking, probably because his pupils did not give him the
needed encouragement, or else he himself checked their ardor, as he did
in the following instance. One night at the close of the usual drill,
and before the class was dismissed, the teacher proposed that they
should sing the National Anthem. Sundry efforts were made before the
proper pitch was obtained. At last the tune was fairly started, and the
anthem sung. The closing lines,—
“Shed o’er her heart a ray
Of wisdom’s glorious day;
Loved be Victoria’s sway—
God save the Queen,”
were sung in a manner expressive of the singers’ entire satisfaction
in the performance. Their leader, however, thought differently, and,
waiting until the last notes had ceased, he turned to his pupils a
face beaming with hardly-suppressed mirth, and remarked, “Your singing
sounds just like the noise made by a swarm of big flies.” He then burst
into a merry peal of laughter, in which he was joined by his whole
class.
In October, 1862, H. M. S. _Charybdis_ paid a short visit to the
island. It being impossible to land at Bounty Bay, the visitors went
around to the west side, where the first half of the way led up a
steep, high hill. But the walk was cheerfully accomplished, and a warm
hospitality was extended them when they reached the little village, a
substantial repast of the best that the island afforded being prepared
for them. The two humble homes were made to look their best, and
the carefully hoarded linen and cotton sheets were brought out and
displayed upon the beds, in honor of the visitors.
The _Charybdis_ stayed only a day, taking a good supply of all that the
island produced. So fruitful was the little island at the time of their
visit that the officers declared that it seemed “like a little Garden
of Eden.” A printed account of the visit of the _Charybdis_ to Pitcairn
was sent to Norfolk Island. The news, when received, after the long
silence of nearly five years, created an excitement among relatives and
friends not to be described, and smiles and tears followed each other
in quick succession as the short but interesting description of the old
home and the loved ones there was read and reread to ears and hearts
that seemed never to grow weary of listening.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
CHAPTER XV.
THE SECOND PARTY RETURNS
TIME passed on, and again preparations were being made at Norfolk for
the second return party to Pitcairn Island. Four families decided
to go. These were, first, Thursday O. Christian, his wife and nine
children. Mrs. Christian’s aged mother also accompanied them for the
purpose of seeing again her son, Mayhew Young, who was of the first
party. The old lady was Elizabeth Mills, only daughter of John Mills,
of the _Bounty_, and the son whom she was going to see was one named
in affectionate remembrance of her much esteemed and well-remembered
friend, Captain Mayhew Folger, who had discovered the colony on
Pitcairn Island fifty-five years before. The other families were Robert
Buffett and his wife, Samuel Warren and his wife, who was the daughter
of T. O. Christian. These last mentioned persons were married to each
other on the eve of leaving Norfolk Island. In addition to those above
mentioned were Simon Young, his mother (Hannah Adams), his wife, and
eight children. The number of persons composing the second party was
twenty-seven. Their friends were strongly opposed to their leaving, and
did all in their power to induce them to stay.
[Illustration: POINT LOOKOUT.]
The last mentioned family was amongst the first that had decided upon
returning, and had taken the first steps in preparing to return; but
the fact that the passage fare by the first vessel was not paid out of
his own money had enough weight with Simon Young to decide his waiting
until he was able to defray the expense of the passage for both himself
and family.
Having had some little experience in teaching children in the week-day
school, besides being for years a Sunday school teacher, he was greatly
concerned also about the welfare of the young people that had preceded
him to the old home, and the thought of their need, as well as his own
deep-seated love of _home_, seemed to urge him to take the present
step. In vain did relatives and friends place before the parents the
question of the future welfare of their children; their decision was
made, the passage already engaged, and the thought of again withdrawing
was not to be allowed.
Nor were their relatives alone opposed to their going. In a letter sent
to the wife of Simon Young Mrs. Selwyn expressed, not her opinion only,
but the opinions of both Bishop Selwyn and Bishop Patteson as well,
in regard to the ministration of the word of God, and the ordinances
attending thereon. Speaking of the “important news” that reached them
in New Zealand, she says: “I will not conceal that it has made me very,
very sorry. I never, like all the rest of us, had but one opinion about
the return to Pitcairn’s Island, and you know full well what that
opinion is; and I am more concerned than I can say to find that your
family are to be foremost in the next departure. To both the bishops
and to myself does it seem a very serious responsibility for anyone
voluntarily to put himself and his family out of the reach of all the
means of grace appointed by our Lord himself as necessary to us. It
is a very different matter if he find himself bereft of them through
no fault or design of his own, as you all were in the old days of
Pitcairn.”
Writing on the same subject, Bishop Patteson thus expresses himself
in a letter to Simon Young: “I fear that you do not feel the real
importance of this point on which I so greatly insist,” _i. e._, “_the
most essential thing of all—the authorized ministration of the word
and sacraments_.” “You may or may not think that the ministrations
of Bishop Selwyn, or me, or Mr. Nobbs, are edifying—that is not to
the point. It is Christ himself, who by the hands of His ministers,
regularly appointed, gives to His own people His own blessings. If you
willfully, and by your own act, deprive yourself and family of this
blessing, how shall you receive the blessing? Christ gives it in His
own appointed way; what right have you or anyone to neglect His way,
and yet think to receive the blessing?
“And if you are not doing right in going away from such privileges,
you may be sure that you will not be doing good to others. You will
be encouraging them in a course that is not right. You ought to be
using whatever influence you have to keep others from going from the
blessings which you have at Norfolk Island, and will _not_ have at
Pitcairn Island.
“And with reference to what you say about the ‘path marked out by God.’
My dear friend, often-times a man makes up his mind really on some
point, though he is hardly willing to allow to himself that he has done
so; and then, with a design already settled in his mind—seeks for
advice and direction.... Now if you have any doubt about the course
you propose to follow, and you _must_ have doubts, you _must_ see
that it cannot be right to leave the blessings I have spoken of—you
cannot make what is wrong appear right by any other process than one of
self-deception.
“Your object is to do those who have gone some good. But if God’s
blessing go not with you, you cannot and will not do them good; and if
it be wrong to go, it is wrong to encourage others to go. Why are you
‘sorry that they went’? Not only because they have left their friends,
but you are, I hope, sorry because they are living on apart from the
regular ministrations of the church. But you cannot supply that want;
you add only to the number of those who are in want. You disapprove
their conduct, and yet follow it. But you think you go to help them.
No, my friend, by doing what is at least doubtful, if not wrong, you
are very far from helping them. You injure yourself and your family,
and you encourage those that are gone to think lightly of the error
they have committed.
[Illustration: GROUP OF YOUNG MEN.]
“I have written strongly, but you know why. If I have said the truth,
may God bless it to the good of us both.”
This letter, written in such plain and strong language, and which
showed such solicitude for the spiritual welfare of those who were on
the eve of leaving, did not fail to make a deep impression, yet not so
as to convince that the step about to be taken was a wrong one.
As for their own pastor, Mr. Nobbs, he had strongly opposed the return
of the first two families, but now was rather willing than otherwise
that the rest should follow. Indeed, far from discouraging such a step,
he was glad that someone could be found who would voluntarily go and,
to the best of his ability, instruct the children who were growing up
so far from educational privileges. Quickly the day drew on that was
to witness another painful separation. As in the first case, the young
people of the second return party did not share the feelings of their
parents. Pitcairn Island possessed no attraction for them, and Norfolk
Island, which was _home_ to them, was rendered doubly dear because of
the many loved companions and friends that were to be left behind.
One sore trial to Simon Young and his wife and family was the
separation from the eldest son, a youth of eighteen years of age, who,
with a son of Mr. Nobbs, was left with Bishop Patteson, to be by him
trained and fitted for a life of future usefulness in the work of the
mission. It was the young man’s own choice and resolve to remain with
the bishop, who, both to his companion and himself, had ever showed the
kind and tender consideration of a parent in everything regarding their
best interests. So, however sad the parting or sharp the trial, the
parents knew that their son was in good hands, and Bishop Patteson had
written that, as far as they could supply it, both himself and Mrs.
Selwyn would fill the place of parents to him. His companion had always
been to him as a dear brother.[6]
[Footnote 6: Edwin Nobbs and Fisher Young joined the Melanesian Mission
under its first bishop, the Right Rev. J. C. Patteson, the former to
become, probably, the successor of his father, the Rev. G. H. Nobbs,
pastor of the church on Norfolk Island. But it was not to be. In less
than four years after joining the mission, the bishop paid a visit
to the island of Santa Cruz, and found the natives hostile to their
landing. On the bishop’s first visit the natives had shown themselves
friendly, but now, August, 1864,a sudden and unexpected attack was
made by the natives against their visitors, and the young men, Edwin
and Fisher, were wounded, the former in his left cheek, the later in
his left wrist. An Englishman, Pierce by name, was wounded in the
chest, but he recovered. Fisher died on the eighth day, after suffering
the dreadful agonies of lockjaw. His body was taken ashore at Port
Patteson and buried there. His deeply-sorrowing companion attended the
funeral, the exposure bringing on a cold which resulted in the same
dire disease. Everything that the most loving care could suggest was
done for them, but in vain. The bishop, writing of that sad time, said,
“Never have I known such sorrow; never have I been so broken down with
overmuch sorrow.” They both died in the arms of the bishop, almost the
last words of each being a prayer for their murderers. Edwin was buried
at sea. It can truly be said of them that
“Lovely and pleasant they were in their lives,
And in death they were not divided.”
The deservedly-loved Bishop Patteson himself fell a victim to the
murderous assault of the natives, on the 20th of September, 1871, seven
years after the death of the young men.]
And now the time had come for the final parting. Once more
grief-stricken friends assembled in the church, which would know the
presence of some of them no more forever, to implore the divine aid and
blessing upon all, but more especially to commend the departing friends
to the care and keeping of their faithful God. The hymn, composed by
Mr. Nobbs and sung on the former occasion, was again sung, the two last
stanzas of which are given here, these referring directly to those
about to leave, being composed for this special farewell gathering:—
“For those who in the flesh remain,
Though absent from our sight,
For their remembrance we’ll retain
Affections pure and bright;
Though parted, severed, far away,
Perchance to meet no more,
For their prosperity we’ll pray,
And love them as before.
“Again dissevered is the tie;
Brethren and sisters part;
The mournful separation nigh
Pervades with grief each heart;
Here, now, beneath this sacred roof
Fresh blessings we implore,
Beneath our tears the fervent proof,
‘We’ll love you as before.’”
In the large company that had gathered for the last farewell service,
there was scarcely an eye that was not dim with tears. Brothers and
sisters, as well as parents and children, who had never known what
separation meant were now about to experience its pain. Perhaps no one
felt the bitterness of parting more than did the two aged mothers,
Elizabeth Young and Hannah Young, who were leaving behind them children
that were most dear, to return to the far-distant home of their
childhood. The night after the farewell meeting was a wakeful one for
those whom the parting most nearly concerned, as the morrow would
witness the departure. The morning dawned only too soon. The whole
community, including all the other families that had recently settled
among them, accompanied the party that was leaving, down to the pier.
Loud sobs and many tears told what a heavy trial the separation was. At
last all was over—the last fond embrace, the lingering kiss, the warm
hand clasp—and the voyagers embarked in their small vessel to return
to the isolated island whither the two other families had preceded them
six years before. Two men, relatives of the families who were leaving,
came with them on a visit.
One death took place before the voyage was ended, that of a child
of Thursday Christian, that had been ailing for some time before
leaving Norfolk Island. At the mother’s request, the captain kindly
consented to preserve the body, to be brought and laid with others of
her children in the graveyard at Pitcairn Island. The body was put in
a barrel, and this was placed in the forepart of the ship on deck,
and was for some time an object of terror to the superstitious minds
of the young people on board, who wondered how the mother dared to
approach the spot in the dead of night and weep over her child there.
By degrees, however, the feelings of awe and fear wore away, and as the
little ship neared the end of her voyage, there remained but the wish
that the gentle child had been spared to reach the place whither they
were going. And, too, the sorrow of parting from friends on Norfolk
Island gradually lost its bitterness as the thought of soon seeing
again their long-separated friends was cherished. Still the frequent
sigh and the silent tear told that the dear ones were not forgotten.
Especially touching was it to see the two old ladies, who had no
growing families to engross their thoughts, sit together and weep
silent tears, as the aged will, over the sons and daughters they were
to see no more.
[Illustration]
CHAPTER XVI.
The Reception
THE SCHOONER _St. Kilda_, which conveyed the second return party to
Pitcairn Island, leaving Norfolk Island on the 18th of December,
1863, reached its destination on the 2d of February, 1864, the voyage
being on the whole a pleasant one. It was night when the little ship
reached the end of her voyage, a beautiful night, calm and clear, and
the unsuspecting folks on shore did not dream of seeing on the morrow
the long absent faces of relatives and friends, and were preparing
to retire to rest when a musket’s sharp report from over the water
broke the stillness. On board all was excitement and bustle, muskets
firing, the young men hallooing and burning flash lights to attract the
attention of those on shore, even calling some of them by their names,
as the vessel was close to the land.
The perfect Babel of sounds soon succeeded in rousing, not the peaceful
inhabitants only, but their terror as well. Leaving their homes, they
hurried down to that part of the land overlooking the sea, whence the
noise proceeded, to try to find out the cause of such a commotion. An
undefinable dread took possession of their hearts when they saw the
lights and heard the repeated sharp reports of the muskets across the
water. The children were cautioned not to expose themselves, but to
remain hidden behind the thick shrubs and trees, lest a stray ball
should hit them, for they did not know that nothing but powder was put
in the barrels. No answering response was made from the shore to those
on board, the frightened islanders deeming it more prudent to maintain
perfect silence and wait until morning to learn the cause of all the
disturbance.
Very early the next morning two of the men went off in their canoes,
and were agreeably surprised to find that the formidable foe of the
previous night was only a party of old friends come to settle again in
their former home. As soon as possible the boat was lowered and the
passengers taken ashore. They were not a little amused to find that the
girls on the island had by no means recovered from their fright, but,
on the approach of the first persons who landed, ran away in different
directions to hide themselves, and could scarcely be persuaded by their
mothers to come out and greet their friends. By degrees, however, their
extreme shyness wore off, and soon they were chatting away with one
another about all that had taken place since their long separation.
With the exception that the once-cultivated grounds were all overrun
with weeds, and the houses mostly were in ruins, there did not seem
to be, to the eyes of the older people, at least, any change in the
island. But to the younger people the change from the island they had
just left made a great impression, the dwelling houses and kitchens,
in their ugly bareness and smoke-begrimed appearance, contrasting
unfavorably with the neatly-built houses and tidy kitchens they had
been accustomed to. The ovens, too, where most of the cooking was done
were only holes dug in the ground, the required heat being obtained
from a number of small stones which were placed over a pile of wood
after the fire had been kindled to heat the stones. The covering for
such ovens consists of leaves, and over these a thick layer of earth,
which effectually prevents the escape of the steam, which so thoroughly
and so well cooks the food that is placed within.
The appearance, too, of the little village was so different from the
place where they had lately lived! Instead of a long row of houses
neatly standing side by side, facing a broad and well-paved street,
here were only a few humbly-thatched dwellings—only two of which
were habitable—half hidden amongst the thick growth of trees which
surrounded them. But the general appearance, so different, was none
the less beautiful, and the sight of the orange groves, displaying
their wealth of golden fruit, was a very pleasing picture to the young
folks, who had never seen such a sight before. Near to these could be
seen the breadfruit trees, with their large, beautiful leaves, growing
side by side with the glossy, dark-leaved _fei_, or mountain plantain,
its heavy bunch of fruit being supported in an upright position by
a stout stalk shooting direct from the center of the leaves, while
here and there a cocoanut tree lent its graceful aid to beautify the
scenery. Towering over all, and lovely in their delicate, light-green
foliage, were the wide-spreading branches of the mighty banyan tree,
whose roots, as they hang from the boughs overhead, prove such a strong
temptation to the boys and girls to go swinging on them. Sometimes an
accident happens when swinging on the roots of the banyan trees, but in
no instance has it ended fatally, and in one case only were there any
bones broken.
Everything about the island, and the manner of cooking and living
in general, interested the young people greatly. Never before had
they heard such a chorus of cock crowing in the early morning, or
the endless chirpings of numberless chickens, as they followed their
busy, clucking mothers. The boys and girls, to whom such a free, wild
life was a desirable change from the confinement of a long voyage,
entered heartily into the fun of going out in search of hens’ eggs,
an abundance of which was found all over the island. The time to them
passed quickly, like one long holiday, for in the unsettled state of
things they were not confined to any school duties.
There was much to hear and tell on both sides. One story that greatly
interested the newcomers was that of a Peruvian ship, loaded with
natives, that came to Pitcairn from Easter Island the year before,
1863. The captain of the ship, on coming near enough, ordered a boat
to be lowered and manned. He himself went in the boat to seek for a
landing place. The people on shore observing the boat approaching, two
men went off in a canoe to meet the strangers. The captain accosted
them with the question, “Can you speak _Anglice_?” Receiving an answer
in the affirmative, he said that he was going ashore to see if he
could get some sugar cane for a load of slaves he had on board, whom,
he informed them, he was taking to their homes. On coming ashore he
tried by many arguments to persuade every member of the two families
to accompany him back to the ship, where, he assured them, they would
receive kind treatment. One thing he objected to was their knowledge of
the English language, and he told them also that their skins were not
as dark as he expected to find them.
The captain’s entreaties for them to go on board, and his oft-repeated
expressions of kindness toward them, served to arouse their suspicions,
and they firmly declined; however, the two men who had been to meet the
boat went on board the ship. There they saw a sight which they could
not easily forget. Numbers of poor natives of different ages, from
quite young children to men and women in and beyond middle life, many
of whom were entirely naked, were crowded into the close and stifling
hold of the ship. Those who were not entirely naked had a waistcloth
only for their covering. All seemed sad, and their countenances bore
the trace of much sorrow, and had a look of hopeless misery. The
atmosphere of the place where the poor natives were confined was
very unwholesome from want of fresh air, and many of the slaves were
suffering from a distressing cough that shook their frames. The captain
told them that he was going to the Gambier Islands, on his way to
restore the poor creatures to their homes.
It was not until many years had passed that the truth about the ship
and her business was made known. The natives were being taken to the
Peruvian Coast to work as slaves, and the captain was trying to get all
he could to go with him. Long afterwards some of the survivors returned
to their home on Easter Island, but with their return were introduced
certain diseases which until then had been unknown among their people.
So their home coming was as much a cause of regret as of rejoicing.
While the two families on Pitcairn Island were blessed with robust
health and plenty of food, their clothing was very scanty, and was
made to do service long after it was threadbare, and while scarcely
of sufficient body to hold together. Their very limited supply was
obtained from whale ships that once in a long while would call in to
obtain fresh provisions. On one occasion they were imposed upon in
the following manner: The captain of a certain whale ship, requiring
something fresh in the way of fruit and other things, called in at the
island to obtain a supply. He took from the islanders one hundred and
eighteen fowls, a number of hogs, about eighteen barrels in all of yams
and potatoes, and large quantities of fruit, the getting of which and
carrying them down to the landing place occupied the handful of men and
women and the few children that were old enough to help, for a whole
week. The people were sorely in need of clothing, which could very well
have been sold them in payment of what they gave, but they received in
return about sixteen yards of calico, three boxes of soap, two of which
carried together just made a comfortable load for a boy to carry, and
the bargain was finished by the addition of a coil of rope and two half
worn-out tubs, which served the purpose of emptying the mud out from
the wells on the island that required cleaning. The captain pleaded
hard times as an excuse for what he gave, and the people had to be
satisfied with such an explanation. But in telling the story afterwards
many a hearty laugh was had at their own expense, seeing how easily
they were imposed upon and how they took it as a matter of course.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
CHAPTER XVII.
AT HOME AGAIN.
VISIT OF H.M.S. SUTLEJ
AS WAS to be expected, the first weeks that followed the arrival of the
second party were very busy weeks indeed. They were housed as well as
could be managed in the two small dwellings of the families that first
came. But the inconveniences attendant on such crowded accommodations
were cheerfully borne. In a short time a temporary abode for each
family of the newcomers had been erected, into which they removed until
their permanent homes should have been built. As all the men and boys
took hold of the work, willingly and cheerfully helping each other, the
building business progressed rapidly.
A pleasant break in the busy weeks was the visit of Admiral Sir John
Kingcome in his flagship, the _Sutlej_, on the 29th of March, 1864.
The day was perfect, with scarce a ripple on the sea, and the sky was
wearing its loveliest blue. The sight of the large boats crowded
with men going and returning between the shore and the ship, was
greatly enjoyed by the islanders. A large crowd both of officers and
men landed, and all seemed to enjoy their visit much, and they gladly
availed themselves of the privilege of taking free whatever the island
produced. The young gentlemen manifested a great deal of interest in
the preparation of a dinner gotten up for them in the island style,
especially that part of it which consisted of the dressing of a pig
and cooking it in the primitive under-ground oven, a favorite mode of
cooking meat among the people.
In the afternoon, as the people had been kindly invited to visit the
ship, nearly all went on board, and had a delightful time visiting
the different parts of the large vessel, and listening with thrilling
pleasure to the band as it discoursed sweetest music. The visit of the
_Sutlej_ was opportune as regarded one young man, at least. He had
a wound in the right knee which threatened to prove fatal, but the
surgeon of the ship, having examined it, probed the wound and applied
the proper remedies. The cure that followed was rapid and complete.
In the long interval that followed the admiral’s coming, when the
islanders seemed to have been shut completely out from the rest of the
world, the pleasure that his visit gave still remained as a bright spot
in the round of their monotonous lives.
At this time the chief concern of the people was to build a suitable
house for public worship. Services were held in one of the dwelling
houses, which, although there was room enough to accommodate
comfortably the two families that had first come, was now too small
for the increased number of worshipers. As soon, then, as these later
arrivals had been settled with some degree of comfort, the work of
building the church and schoolhouse combined began. Willing hands made
light work, and, notwithstanding the lack of workers, the plain wooden
structure, with thatched roof, was duly finished and consecrated to
divine service. It was a glad day when the small congregation met for
the first time within its humble walls to worship God, nor was the
worship less fervent because above them there was only a bare, thatched
roof. Simon Young now stood as leader of the people, and, in addition
to his services for the spiritual welfare of the people, took upon
himself the task of instructing, to the best of his ability, the youth
and children in the “three R’s”—reading, ‘riting, and ‘rithmetic.
Having brought from Norfolk Island a small supply of schoolbooks, he
was able with their help to guide the young and ignorant minds into the
pursuit of something higher than the searching for hens’ eggs and their
own self-pleasing.
[Illustration: SIMON YOUNG AND WIFE.]
Possessing a fair knowledge of simple music, he also, with the small
means at command, taught the children to sing. After leading them
through the simplest airs, he taught them, and with great success,
to sing in four parts, and the fact that out of a class of fifteen
ten were able to read music by sight, gave him great encouragement
in that branch of his work. Beginning life anew, house building
and cultivating the ground for the support of a large family left him
scarcely any leisure for self-improvement, but what he was able to do
he did faithfully. In cultivating the land, wife and children assisted,
thus lightening the heavy duties of the husband and father. No work
was allowed to supersede that which was the dearest aim and object of
his whole life, namely, seeking to instill knowledge into the minds
of the young, and helping to train them to love what is good and pure
and true, and to inspire them to search for themselves the treasures
of knowledge that may be obtained in the works of other men, some few
volumes of which he possessed. He also organized a Sunday school, at
first taking all the labor upon himself, and, as the necessity arose,
appointing others to assist him.
In December of 1864 six of the young people—three of the older
settlers and three of the others—were united in the bonds of
matrimony, the wedding taking place on Christmas day. To the younger
portion of the community, at least, the excitement of a triple wedding
was a very pleasant thing to happen to break the monotony of their
quiet and secluded lives.
In 1866 a man-of-war, the _Mutine_, called at the island, bringing
letters from relatives and friends on Norfolk Island, the first word
that had been received from them since the parting, nearly three years
before. The day was a stormy one in November—so stormy that the ship
was delayed only long enough to deliver the mail, one canoe with two
men in it having successfully passed through the heavy breakers and
the tossing sea to reach the ship. The news brought was mostly sad,
for the deaths of several dear friends were recorded, but that which
more than any other affected the people deeply was the tidings of the
death of Edwin Nobbs and Fisher Young, who had been shot by the natives
of Santa Cruz, when, with the bishop of Melanesia, they visited that
place. Although the two young men had been dead two years before the
tidings reached them, the loss of their firstborn son came upon the
parents of Fisher Young with all the shock of a sudden and unexpected
bereavement, and the heartrending cries of the mother bespoke the grief
felt for her son. He had been consecrated to God before his birth, and
his chosen path was that of a missionary, nor was it small comfort
to his parents that his last dying message was, “Tell my father that
I died in the path of duty.” Great sorrow prevailed among the little
community when the sad news was received, and many tears were shed for
those who had gone, especially for the two young men, who were loved
and respected by all.
The Rev. G. H. Nobbs, Edwin’s father, wrote a hymn on the sad occasion,
which was frequently sung by the people of Norfolk Island, to the tune
Jerusalem the Golden (Ewing). A copy of the words and music was sent to
their friends on Pitcairn Island. Following is the hymn, which was soon
learned and frequently sung:—
“O Lord, the heathens’ madness
Has caused our tears to flow;
Yet still, amid our sadness,
This thought assuages woe,—
There’s naught on earth progressing
That’s hidden from Thy sight,
Correcting, as in blessing
‘Shall not our God do right?’
“Our loved ones’ toils are over,
Life’s transient journey sped,
Till earth her slain discover,
And ocean yields her dead;
Then at their Lord’s appearing,
Decked with the martyrs’ crown,
And spotless raiment wearing,
Shall as His seed be known.
“We kiss the hand that smote us,
And bow before the rod;
Thou hast in mercy taught us
To know that Thou art God.
With undisguised submission
We would approach Thy throne,
Presenting this petition,
‘Thy will, O Lord, be done.’”
There had been two deaths on the island since the second party arrived,
and those took place within a few weeks of each other. The first was
that of Hannah Young, John Adam’s youngest daughter, in her sixty-third
year; the other a young girl, both victims of consumption.
During the year 1867 the people had the pleasure of enjoying the
visits of the royal mail steamers _Rakaia_ and _Kaikoura_. The former
called three times, and the latter once, before the Panama line was
broken up. The account of the _Rakaia’s_ first visit, written by a
gentleman of the name of Dilke, who was a passenger on board, and
which was published in the _Leisure Hour_ for 1868 or 1869, eventually
reached the island, and was read with much interest by the people.
The illustration that accompanied the article caused a great deal of
amusement, as it represented a canoe ornamented with cocoanut leaves
and loaded with fruit, being paddled off to a vessel in the distance.
The canoe had two occupants, each one clad in a small waistcloth as
his only covering. The representation was not very true to fact. As a
further illustration of what those in the outside world knew about the
little isolated rock and the people upon it, may be told the following
little incident:—
About two years before the _Rakaia’s_ call, a merchant vessel, the
_John L. Demock_, on her passage from the Australian colonies to San
Francisco, lay becalmed for two nights and a day off the island. The
ship was not seen, as she came in on the south side of the island. On
the second day, as the people on board saw no boat from the shore nor
any other sign that the island was inhabited, they lowered a boat, and
its crew, with several gentlemen passengers, pulled for the shore. The
people on shore descried the boat only when she was within a short
distance from land, and a canoe or two put off to meet and welcome
the strangers, and show them the landing place. It was an agreeable
surprise to the visitors to find themselves addressed in the English
language, and the hearty welcome extended to them, and the warm
invitation to come and partake of the hospitalities of the island,
entirely disarmed them of their fears, and they hastily hid away the
weapons of defense with which they had come well armed in case of a
hostile attack. Their stay of a day and a night was sufficient to prove
that nothing but good will was felt toward them by all, and on leaving
they took with them their boat loaded down with all that the island
could supply. On reaching the ship they found their companions getting
ready another boat and more weapons to come in search of them, fearing
that they might have fallen in with enemies. But the long detention
was happily explained, and the good ship soon was on her way again.
Some questions that have been put to those who go on board ship, even
at this late date, are very amusing. “Do you know what _that_ is?” was
asked of one of the islanders, the article in question being a lump of
sugar. “Can you read writing?” “Can anyone on the island read?” or,
“You do not know what reading is?” and similar questions have been
earnestly asked by some who for the first time have become acquainted
with the people.
In March of 1868 John Buffett, now over seventy years of age, but still
hale and active, came to visit his only daughter, Mrs. Mary Young.
Everybody was glad to welcome the old man, whom no one had expected to
see again. In June of the same year the _Ashburton_, from the colonies,
made a call, stopping for a day and a night. Her captain, Smith, was
a former acquaintance, and now, as a large company of passengers was
with him, he kindly allowed them to come ashore and spend the day. The
ladies and gentlemen were not slow to avail themselves of the kind
permission, and the pleasure of their short visit was as much enjoyed
by the islanders as by themselves. A table long enough for the whole
party was spread, around which they all sat down to a dinner that had
been hastily gotten up for them. In the evening some of the company
belonging to an opera troupe, led by Mr. Fred Lyster and Miss Minnie
Walton, sang a few of their songs for the entertainment of the people,
and in return the schoolchildren sang some of their part songs. These
ended, the visitors took their leave, as night had come on, but the
beautiful moon, shining in its full brilliancy, lighted the way over
the rippling waters, as the boat, weighed down with its living human
freight, glided on its way, after the hearty “Godspeed” had been spoken.
In July, 1872, John Buffett returned to Norfolk Island on the whale
ship _Sea Ranger_, accompanied by one of his grandsons and another
young man. They were received by their relatives and friends on Norfolk
Island with every demonstration of joy, their unexpected arrival
causing intense excitement. Every attention was shown them, and feast
and dance were gotten up in behalf of their visitors. On receiving an
invitation to visit the pretty chapel and grounds of the Melanesian
Mission, they went, and were impressed with the order and neatness
that prevailed everywhere. The orderly behavior of the students,
and the exactness which characterized the arrangements of the whole
establishment, under the able management of Mr. R. H. Codrington, who
was during that time at the head of the mission, called forth their
highest admiration, and repeated visits only served to strengthen the
impressions at first received that a noble work was being done at the
mission.
The bishop of Auckland, New Zealand, was at the same time on a visit to
Norfolk Island, and during his stay confirmed some of the young people,
of which act he makes mention in his “Notes of a Visit to Norfolk
Island,” as follows:—
“November 16, Saturday. I had a class of young people from the
settlement (_i. e._, the home of the quondam Pitcairners) who were to
be confirmed on the following day.... My class was held in St. Barnabas
Chapel. Afterwards I received a visit from two young men, James Russell
McCoy and Benjamin Stanley Young (brother of Fisher Young, killed at
Santa Cruz in 1864), who had recently come by a whaling vessel from
Pitcairn’s Island. They wished to be admitted to confirmation, and I
was very glad that they should be, after having some conversation with
them upon the subject.”
Besides the confirmation service, Bishop Cowie ordained three deacons
from among the Melanesians. This ceremony was witnessed by the two
young men with much interest. The service was performed in the church
of the Norfolk islanders, a building which had been completed by them
a short time before, and of which they were justly proud, the whole
being designed and finished by themselves. It had been dedicated under
the name of All Saints. Bishop Cowie’s “Notes” thus make mention of the
ordination service:—
“The ordination was held at eleven o’clock, morning prayer having
been said for the Norfolk islanders at an earlier hour by Mr. Nobbs,
the chaplain of the settlement. It was at first intended to hold the
ordination at St. Barnabas, but as in that case the Norfolk islanders
could not have been present at the service, owing to the smallness of
the mission chapel, it was thought better that the Melanesians should
go down to the settlement (three miles distant), the new church there,
All Saints, being large enough to hold all the church-going population
of the island.... The venerable pastor of the quondam Pitcairn
islanders, the Rev. G. H. Nobbs, assisted me at the ministration of
the holy communion, ... the communicants numbering over a hundred.
Whilst the clergy were communicating, Heber’s beautiful hymn, ‘Bread
of the world in mercy broken,’ was softly and sweetly sung by the
congregation....
“In the afternoon at three o’clock I held a confirmation at All Saints
for the Norfolk islanders.... The preface to the confirmation service
was read by the Rev. G. H. Nobbs, whose granddaughter, Catherine Nobbs,
played the harmonium accompaniment at both the services. Twenty young
people were confirmed (including the two lately arrived from Pitcairn’s
Island), nearly all being descendants of the _Bounty_ mutineers. The
hymns were particularly well sung by nearly the whole congregation, one
of them to the tune Cambridge New, said to have been a great favorite
with Bishop Patteson. A son and a daughter of John Adams, of the
_Bounty_, viz., George Adams and Rachel Evans, both over seventy years
of age, were at the service, and I went to see Arthur Quintall, now
quite imbecile, the son of another of the mutineers.”
The three aged persons above mentioned were the only survivors on
Norfolk Island of the children of the mutineers, for death had taken
away many of the people in the space of nine years. In 1868 a malignant
fever swept like a blasting wind over the island, and many of the
people died, so that the two young visitors missed the faces of many a
dear relative and friend whom they still remembered well. Several other
changes had taken place on the island. The people had in many instances
removed to their own allotments of land, and were now living widely
separated from one another.
The visit, of nearly three months’ duration, was rendered as
delightful and pleasing as possible, and they left their kind friends
with feelings of hope as well as of sorrow, for the young men had
expectations of returning again to live on the island before many
years had passed. On leaving, letters from the people on Norfolk
Island were given them to take home. These letters contained strong
advice and earnest entreaties to their friends on Pitcairn Island to
return to them and live together in one community as before. Every
argument that could be brought to bear on the subject was used to
induce the Pitcairners to return to Norfolk Island. When the letters
were, on their arrival, read to the people, and the question thoroughly
discussed, the majority favored the proposal. That all obstacles should
be removed, their friends had generously offered to charter and fit
out a vessel at their own expense for the purpose of conveying them
back to Norfolk Island, promising also that if they should return their
former grants of land would be restored to them. The condition was that
all should return, as otherwise they could scarcely be expected to put
themselves to such an expense. Naturally, most of the younger members
of the community were eager to return, and some among the older ones
were not unwilling. But a few of the families were determined to remain
where they were, and there the matter ended.
One argument given in favor of their return was the change that
Pitcairn Island had undergone in the space of a very few years. Extreme
scarcity of water was a source of much discomfort and anxiety to the
inhabitants, and the soil, that had formerly been so productive,
seemed now to have lost its remarkable fertility. The yam crop, which
hitherto had yielded so well, and had been one of the principal food
supplies, now failed almost entirely. Nor did the sweet potato escape
the general plague, for a very troublesome blight would attack the
young plantation, completely preventing its growth, and when the tubers
became matured, they were often infested by a destructive worm, that
worked untold mischief among them.
The breadfruit, too, yielded to the general decline, and splendid trees
that once bent beneath their wealth of fruit, began to decay, and
failed gradually to produce fruit, until they ceased almost entirely.
Other fruit trees were more fortunate and did not suffer as much as the
food-producing plants. Around the entire island, along the _edge_, or
precipice, where once had flourished a thick growth of stunted, hardy
trees, could now be seen bare, barren soil, free to be washed away by
heavy rains. During this period, when the island was undergoing such
a change, it was subject to frequent seasons of drought. The water
supply daily diminished, and the springs that in former years had been
ceaselessly flowing now dried up, with but two exceptions. Such was
the condition of Pitcairn Island when the request from Norfolk Island
that the community might remove thither was sent. But the conditional
proposition was not accepted, and it was never again renewed.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
CHAPTER XVIII.
WRECK of the CORNWALLIS
THE CLOSING months of 1873, and almost the entire year of 1874, was the
period when, more than any other, the island suffered from the effects
of drought. As ships, the only means of communication possible with
the outside world, very seldom called at the island during the years
that followed the arrival of both parties from Norfolk Island, the
inhabitants seemed to occupy a little world entirely by themselves,
and might have remained in their remote isolation for an indefinite
time were it not that an unlooked-for event happened, which led to the
little island’s receiving much attention from many who until now had
never known of its existence, and to the reviving again of the interest
shown by those who in former years proved themselves true friends.
Toward the close of January, 1875, the Liverpool ship _Cornwallis_,
of the firm of Balfour, Williamson & Co., homeward bound from San
Francisco, came in sight. The captain in his boyhood had read the
story of the mutineers of the _Bounty_ and their subsequent settlement
of the isolated rock, and decided that he would make a call at the
place where, just eighty-five years before, Christian and his guilty
party had landed. Taking with him his apprentices, they left the ship
in charge of the first officer, and came ashore in their own boat,
accompanied by some of the island men who had gone off to the ship.
But a very short time had elapsed after they landed when the ship
was observed to be losing her ground, and, as if impelled by some
unseen power, she drifted shoreward, coming on swiftly and surely to
destruction. The people on shore watched with breathless anxiety and
terror the doomed ship, and earnest but unavailing prayers went up
that the fearful catastrophe might be averted. The poor captain, half
frantic, rushed with his young men and all the island men that were
within call, to the landing place, to launch the boat and put off to
the vessel, that was every moment nearing the rocks. But no effort
could save her, and she soon struck on some unseen rocks a few feet
from the shore. Had there been ten minutes more time, she would have
been saved, as the water clear to the shore is very deep, and a few
minutes more would have sufficed to steer the ship clear of danger.
A few of the islanders that had remained on the ship when the boat
first went off, terrified beyond control at the approaching shipwreck,
now hastily got into their boat and started for the shore. Meeting
the captain’s boat returning, they also went back to where the ship
now lay, a helpless wreck. The excitement that prevailed was great,
and soon everybody was near the scene of the disaster. The other men
that had been engaged about their several duties when the disaster took
place, now returned from the fields, and, seeing what had happened,
were quickly on the rocks near where the ship lay. Swimming off to the
vessel, they were soon engaged with the others who had been before them
in rendering what assistance they were able, and in a short time after
the ship struck, all the crew had been safely landed.
Little else was saved. The mate wished to make a return trip to the
vessel in spite of the wind, that was now increasing into a gale, and
at the cry, “Who will volunteer?” a ready response was given, but the
darkness coming on, and the threatening weather, made it advisable
to delay the effort until the next morning. The boat was once more
drawn up to a place of safety, and in the gloomy darkness, with
feelings still more gloomy, the captain and crew of the _Cornwallis_,
accompanied by the islanders, men, women, and children, formed a
silent procession up the steep hill path that led to the village. All
that could be done for the strangers thus unexpectedly thrown amongst
them was done as well as their limited means afforded, and everyone
willingly gave up sleeping rooms to the shipwrecked men during their
enforced stay, being content that their unexpected guests should enjoy
whatever could be provided for their comfort.
The chief anxiety experienced was how to find enough to feed their
guests should their stay be a long one, for this addition to their
number was confessedly a tax upon them in the matter of food supplies,
the islanders themselves being obliged to be careful in the use of
what they had, as the island had not yet recovered from the effects
of the long-continued drought of the previous years. Not a thing was
saved from the ship. The heavy seas rolled over the poor vessel during
the night, and by morning the gale had increased to such fury that
it was hopeless to attempt a return to the ship, each oncoming wave
threatening to overturn it or break it in pieces. The deepest sympathy
was felt for the distressed captain and his company of officers and
men, but nothing could be done to alleviate the misery of their
condition.
On the second day after the ship had become a wreck, she turned over
and broke up by the violence of the waves. The sea around was strewn
with wreckage, which floated away to leeward. The ship’s lifeboat,
uninjured, was among the things that were scattered from the ship on
breaking up, and in the hope of rescuing it a crew of the islanders
started to launch the captain’s gig. With brave hearts and strong
arms they waited for a moment’s lull in the angry waves to give them
an opportunity of getting safely over the dreadful surf that rolled
ceaselessly in to shore. At last the moment came, and at the command,
“Pull ahead,” with a strength that seemed more than human, the boat
was got beyond the danger of the breakers, that threatened to engulf
her. In due time the lifeboat was reached. Being full of water, each
man took turns to bail the boat. Wind and tide being both against them,
the work was exceedingly heavy, but courageous hearts and willing hands
insured success, and after several hours’ hard battling with the sea,
the gig and lifeboat were both landed in safety.
A sad accident occurred on shore while the men were engaged in
rescuing the boat. A boy twelve years of age had, with some of his
companions, gone down to the rocks near which the ship was wrecked, to
get something that floated ashore. In attempting to reach his object,
he was suddenly struck down by a heavy sea, and washed off into the
boiling waters. The only aid that could be rendered was by means of a
rope thrown to him, but before it could be brought the poor boy had
sunk, bruised and killed by the wreckage that was tossing around.
The poor, distracted mother witnessed the fearful scene, and in her
agonizing grief made her way to the place where her boy was taken off,
and would have thrown herself into the sea, as if such a sacrifice
could avail to save her boy, but the arms of strong men who had
followed held her back, and she was carried with great difficulty and
in an unconscious state up the rocky steep to her home, where pitying
friends received her and attended her through the long, dreary months
of illness that followed. The father was not present when the accident
took place, so word was sent to him where he was at work. He was with
difficulty restrained from casting himself into the angry sea in the
remote hope of finding the body of his son, but at length submitted to
be led home; nor was the body ever seen again, although a search was
kept up for several days.
[Illustration: THE MISSION HOUSE.]
The American ship _Dauntless_ had come in during the day, and Captain
Wilbur waited until next morning, when, on learning what had taken
place, he kindly offered to take the whole crew of the _Cornwallis_ on
his ship, and give them a passage to New York, whither he was bound.
The ship was wrecked on Saturday, and by Tuesday noon all her crew had
left, leaving only the poor remains of the good ship to remind the
people of the sad occurrence.
The September following another shipwrecked crew was welcomed to
the island. The Liverpool ship _Khandeish_, homeward bound from San
Francisco, was wrecked on the reefs of Oeno Island, and the crew,
taking with them what could be saved from the ship’s stores, and a
little of their clothing, left in their big boat and gig for Pitcairn
Island. The wind favoring, the short voyage was soon accomplished.
As soon as the shipwrecked mariners’ boats were seen, a crew of the
islanders put off in their boat—the gig that had been left by Captain
Hammond, of the _Cornwallis_—to meet and welcome their unlooked-for
visitors. When all had landed, the crew of the ship was divided into
companies of twos and threes for their better accommodation amongst
the families with whom they were to stay, and who all had gone down
to the beach to receive them. They were made welcome to the homes
of the people, and were soon like members of the families where each
sojourned, taking part in the daily labors, and joining with them in
their family worship, as well as attending all the religious services
that were held. During their stay of fifty-one days they behaved in a
way to win the approval of all, and when, on the 19th of November, they
left on the British ship _Ennerdale_ for San Francisco, the parting
on both sides was expressive of much sorrow. One of the men remained
behind and was shortly afterwards married to a widow to whom he had
become attached.
The captain, officers, and crew of the _Khandeish_, on their arrival
in San Francisco, represented the condition of the Pitcairn islanders
as a very needy one indeed, although the islanders themselves,
accustomed all their lives to the simplest manner of living, did not
realize so fully as their late guests did their “forlorn condition,”
as some of the papers expressed it. Of the treatment they received
while on the island they spoke in terms of warmest gratitude, and did
what they could in return for the hospitality that had been shown
them. In this they succeeded beyond their utmost expectations, for
the generous citizens of San Francisco responded with such heartiness
that contributions kept pouring in, and every useful and necessary
article that was thought of,—cooking utensils, tinware of almost every
description, cups, plates, spoons, etc., etc., wooden pails and tin
pails,—testified to their large-hearted liberality. Clothing made
and unmade, buttons, pins, needles, etc., almost enough to stock a
respectable haberdasher’s shop, were contributed to the immense stock
of goods collected in response to the call of charity and benevolence.
A good supply of flour, a luxury to the islanders, was sent by Captain
Skelly, of the _Khandeish_, as his contribution to the general stock.
As a crowning gift to the whole, a beautifully-toned organ, of the
Mason & Hamlin Organ Company, was sent.
The gifts came on different ships, the first part being brought by
Captain D. A. Scribner, of the American ship _St. John_, which arrived
at the island in March, 1876. The captain was a very dear friend of
the islanders, having made repeated calls to the island before. He was
intrusted with a large mail from the ship’s company that had lately
left the island, and whose letters were frequent in their expressions
of gratitude for the kindness that had been shown them during their
temporary sojourn, and were also full of praise at the munificence and
generosity displayed by the good people of San Francisco, who had so
willingly responded to the call for charity.
To say that the islanders were grateful for the goodness so lavishly
showered upon them, would but faintly express what they really felt.
Grateful indeed they were, yet none the less did they feel their
unworthiness that they should be the favored recipients of so much
bounty in return for the small acts of human kindness rendered their
fellow-men in distress, and which they rightly considered were only
their duty to do.
The organ was brought by Captain Scribner. Directly on its being
landed it was lifted on the shoulders of a few strong men and borne by
them up the steep path, nor was the heavy but precious burden set down
until they reached the little thatch-roofed church, where it was placed
beside the reading table. All the inhabitants, old and young, gathered
around while Captain Scribner played, “Shall We Gather at the River?”
Every voice joined in the song, and when it ended, repeated expressions
of thanks were given to the kind friend who brought it, and through
him to the generous friends who sent the handsome gift. Tears were in
many eyes as the people stood around and witnessed the substantial
proofs of the kindness they were receiving. It was a new and very
delightful experience to them to listen for the first time to the tones
of a perfect-keyed instrument. The only other one of the kind that the
island boasted was an old harmonium, that, weak-lunged and out of tune,
had been given to a young woman by the doctor of H. M. S. _Petrel_,
which was on a day’s visit to the island two months before. The old
feeble instrument had been taken to pieces and cleared from the rubbish
and dust that had accumulated within it, and otherwise repaired, so
that now, with its really sweet tones, it served for the young people
to practice their first lessons in instrumental music, which they were
not slow to do, notwithstanding the fact that they had no book or
teacher to aid or direct them. And now, when the new organ was opened,
all who wished had the gratification of trying a few chords on it, and
enjoying the power of the instrument, an experience delightful as it
was new. The donors themselves would have felt rewarded had they seen
how much pure enjoyment their beautiful gift conferred, a gift that was
valued with keen appreciation by everyone.
Among the many and various presents sent from San Francisco, the wants
of the school were not forgotten, and a large supply of schoolbooks
came—books new and old, and ranging from the first to fifth and sixth
readers. This want, so generously supplied, was one of the greatest
that had been experienced, and the children as well as the teacher
hailed with delight the prospect of having a book all to one’s self,
and no longer being obliged to read from the same book turn by turn.
The change was truly gratifying, for before this the school had for
its best reader, speller, and grammar an old copy of Lindley Murray
excepted, a few antiquated copies of good old Mavor’s spelling book,
dog-eared, and so literally worn out that in places here and there the
words were entirely obliterated and many of the leaves had become loose
and dropped out through age and usage. The one venerable copy of an old
book of geography was succeeded by a goodly number of others, which
opened to the children’s view a world hitherto undreamed of.
It would occupy too much space to give a detailed account of everything
sent to the people, every article of which was gratefully received and
thoroughly appreciated. In recounting the deeds of generous kindness
lavishly bestowed upon the islanders from time to time, it should
never be forgotten how large a debt of gratitude they owe to their
friends both in Valparaiso and Honolulu, as well as in England. But
while they were thankful for favors shown, the thought was none the
less humiliating that, in their peculiar circumstances, they were
obliged to be dependent upon the charity of others for some of the
very necessaries of life. Whaling ships and trading vessels, the
former sources of such supplies, now ceased almost entirely to come to
the island. Had there been a way by which they could, through their
own efforts, procure all that was needed for their necessities, the
necessary labor would have been willingly bestowed; but their extremely
isolated position rendered such efforts almost impossible.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
CHAPTER XIX.
VISIT of REAR-ADMIRAL DE HORSEY
EARLY Sunday morning, on the 8th of September, 1878, the islanders
were greatly surprised at seeing a British man-of-war to the north of
the island. As the mist and light rains that partly hid the ship from
view cleared away, she was seen standing in toward the land, with the
evident intention of communicating with the shore. The one boat that
the islanders possessed was soon launched and on its way to the ship.
After a short stay it returned, accompanied by others from the ship;
which was H. M. S. _Shah_, the flagship of the admiral commanding the
Pacific station. A large crowd from the ship came on shore, and as they
came in time for the morning service, the still unfinished meetinghouse
that was being built at the time was furnished with seats formed by
boards laid across boxes, to accommodate the congregation, whose number
was doubled by the addition of the visitors.
The chaplain of the ship, Rev. J. Reed, took part in officiating. The
people greatly enjoyed the pleasure of having Admiral De Horsey and his
officers join with them in their worship and service, and would have
been pleased to have them remain through the afternoon, but the admiral
was anxious to leave on the evening of the same day, so their stay was
unavoidably short. However, he afterward kindly yielded to the request
to remain until the next day, to afford the people opportunity to get
some fruit and other things for their visitors, as they felt that they
could not conscientiously allow themselves to do so on the Sunday.
Having decided to prolong his stay, the admiral gave an invitation
to all the islanders to come on board at eight the next morning to
visit his ship and have breakfast there. Most of the people availed
themselves of the kind invitation and were ready at an early hour for
the anticipated pleasure. The day opened calm and dull, with occasional
light showers of rain, which, while they dampened the garments, failed
to damp the spirits of those who visited the ship. Breakfast was laid
on a long table in the cabin, and at the appointed hour a large party
sat down with the good admiral to partake of the bountiful feast he had
ordered.
The kind people on board seemed to vie with each other in their efforts
to entertain and please, showing their visitors about their huge home
on the waters, and how they lived, enjoying, too, the evident wonder
and admiration displayed by their guests as they watched the revolving
of the mighty engines, and also the keen pleasure and interest they
manifested in everything they saw around them. On deck the band was
playing, while in one of the rooms below one of the officers was seated
at a piano, making music for a company of admiring listeners. In the
gun room the crowd of young officers had gathered the schoolchildren
together, and persuaded them to sing some of their songs and glees,
they in return singing some of their bright, lively songs. The hours
flew quickly, and soon one by one the islanders passed down the
steep sides of the ship to return home, after wishing their kind
visitors good-by, and carrying with them a lively remembrance of their
delightful entertainment on board, while the _Shah_, with her over
eight hundred souls, steamed on her way and was soon out of sight.
The following is the report of Rear-Admiral de Horsey, commander in
chief on the Pacific station, which was received at the admiralty:—
“September 17, 1878. Sir, I request you will acquaint the lords
commissioners of the admiralty that, as Pitcairn Island lay in my
track from Esquimalt to Valparaiso, and the weather being sufficiently
favorable for landing, I took advantage of the circumstance to visit
that island, for the purpose of ascertaining the condition of the
inhabitants, and also to obtain refreshments on this long voyage.
Having sighted Pitcairn at daylight on the 8th inst., we arrived at
Bounty Bay at 8 A. M., and remained off the island until noon the
following day, when we proceeded on our voyage.
“A few particulars as to the present condition of this small and almost
inaccessible island, the only spot of British territory lying in the
vast triangle between Vancouver, Falkland, and Fiji Islands, may not be
uninteresting to their lordships, and are therefore made the subjects
of this letter. The population at present numbers ninety, of all
ages, of which forty-one are males and forty-nine females.... There
is but one survivor of the generation which immediately followed the
mutineers, viz., Elizabeth Young, aged about eighty-eight, daughter of
John Mills, gunner’s mate of the _Bounty_, and of an Otaheitian mother.
“The oldest man on the island is Thursday October Christian, grandson
of Fletcher Christian, master’s mate of the _Bounty_. The population
may be further described as consisting of sixteen men, nineteen women,
twenty-five boys, and thirty girls. The deaths on the island have
numbered about twelve in the last nineteen years, as no contagious
diseases visit the island....
“A few medicines which were sent from Valparaiso in H. M. S. _Reindeer_
(in 1869) are administered as required, by the pastor. Pitcairn Island
is governed by a ‘magistrate and chief ruler in subordination to her
Majesty the Queen of Great Britain,’ who not only administers the
laws, but also enacts them. There are two councillors to advise and
assist the chief magistrate, besides which, the ‘heads of families’
are convened for consultation when required.... The chief magistrate
is elected annually on New Year’s day, and is open to reëlection. Both
sexes of and above the age of seventeen have a vote. The office is at
present filled by Mr. James Russell McCoy, who is also steersman of
the only boat on the island.... Divine service is held every Sunday
at 10:30 A. M. and at three P. M., ... and it is conducted strictly
in accordance with the liturgy of the Church of England, by Mr. Simon
Young, their selected pastor, who is much respected. A Bible class is
held every Wednesday, when all who conveniently can, attend. There is
also a general meeting for prayer on the first Friday of every month.
Family prayers are said in every house the first thing in the morning
and the last thing in the evening, and no food is partaken of without
asking God’s blessing before and afterwards. Captain Beechy, writing
fifty-three years ago, says: ‘These excellent people appear to live
together in perfect harmony and contentment, to be virtuous, religious,
cheerful, and hospitable, to be patterns of conjugal and paternal
affection, and to have very few vices.’ I have ventured to quote those
words, as they hold true to this day, the children having followed in
the footsteps of their parents.
“The observance of Sunday is very strict; no work is done; but this is
not in any pharisaical spirit, as shown on the occasion of our visit,
which chanced to be on a Sunday, when everything consistent with not
neglecting divine service was done to supply us with refreshments for
the crew, the chief magistrate arguing that it was a good work, and
necessary, as the ship could not wait. Of these islanders’ religious
attributes no one can speak without deep respect. A people whose
greatest privilege and pleasure is to commune in prayer with their
God, and to join in hymns of praise, and who are, moreover, cheerful,
diligent, and probably freer from vice than any other community,
need no priest among them. The pastor also fulfills the duty of
schoolmaster, in which he is assisted by his daughter, Rosalind
Amelia Young. The instruction comprises reading, writing, arithmetic,
Scripture history, and geography. The girls are taught sewing and
hat making as well, and the whole are taught part singing very
effectively.... Schooling is conducted in the church house, one end of
which is used as a library, open to all. English is the only language
spoken or known. [And a corruption of the same.]...
[Illustration: GROUP OF WOMEN AND CHILDREN.]
“The Pitcairn islanders are, of course, entirely dependent upon their
own resources. They grow sweet potatoes, yams, plantains, etc.,
and formerly plenty of breadfruit, but these are nearly all dying
out. They have also beans, carrots, turnips, cabbages, and a little
maize, pineapples, custard apples, and plenty of oranges, lemons, and
cocoanuts. Clothing is obtained alone from passing ships in barter for
refreshments. They have a few sheep, goats, pigs, fowls, cats, and
dogs. As it rains generally once a month, they have plenty of water,
although at times in former years they have suffered from drought.
No alcoholic liquors, except for medical purposes, are used, and a
drunkard is unknown. The houses are well ventilated, and furnished
sufficient for their simple wants. Scarcely any trees good for
timber grow here.... The men are chiefly employed tilling their
grounds, farming, house building, canoe fishing, etc.; the women, in
sewing, hat and basket making (in addition to their other household
work). All are industrious, and willing to take their share of public
work when required. This, at present, is enlarging the church house, to
meet the wants of an increasing population.
“The only communication with the outside world is by means of passing
ships, averaging perhaps one a month, and chiefly those on their way
to and from California; but this is precarious, as most ships fetch to
windward of Pitcairn, and those that do sight the island are frequently
unable to communicate. At the time of our visit the landing was
considered good, but it was necessary to watch for a smooth place, and
to use a light boat. They have no communication with Otaheite, and very
rarely with Norfolk Island or New Zealand.
“The necessary articles required by the islanders are best shown by
those we furnished in barter for refreshments, viz., flannel, serge,
drill, half boots, combs, tobacco, and soap. They also stand much in
need of maps and slates for their school, and tools of any kind are
most acceptable. I caused them to be supplied from the public stores
with a Union Jack for display on ships’ arrival, and a pit saw, of
which they were greatly in need. This, I trust, will meet the approval
of their lordships. If the munificent people of England were only
aware of the wants of this most deserving little colony, they would
not go long unsupplied. I would suggest that anything desired to be
sent be addressed to the care of the admiral on this station, either
at Coquimbo or Vancouver Island. If sent by private ships, goods may
never reach the island. Within the last two years or so two wrecks
have occurred—the English ship _Khandeish_, on Oeno Island, and the
English ship _Cornwallis_, on Pitcairn Island. In both cases the crews
took refuge on Pitcairn Island, remaining respectively over six weeks
and three days, and receiving every assistance, including food and
clothing, from the scanty supplies of the Pitcairn islanders. At the
wreck of the _Cornwallis_ the islanders in rendering assistance lost
their only boat, one made by themselves, and thus their only means of
communicating with passing ships....
“One stranger, an American, has settled on the island—a doubtful
acquisition. A few of the islanders have expressed a wish to return
to Norfolk Island—a not unnatural wish for change—but the chief
magistrate thinks none are likely to go. The islanders, at my
invitation, visited the _Shah_. No less than sixty-eight men, women,
and children, out of a total of ninety, came on board, regardless
of the difficulties of embarking, and the wind and rain. Their poor
garments were nearly wet through, and many were sea-sick, but the
pleasure of going on board one of their own country’s ships of war
outweighed all other considerations, and made them essentially happy.
“Finally I submit to their lordships that when the service will admit
it is desirable that a ship of war should visit Pitcairn annually, and
I propose to cause this to be done during the remainder of my command.
I submit also that this small colony is deserving such attention and
encouragement as Her Majesty’s government may think fit to hold out to
it. Her Majesty the Queen does not, I believe, possess in any part of
the world more loyal and affectionate subjects than this little knot
of settlers. I may here observe that a notion appears to prevail among
the Pitcairn islanders that Her Majesty’s government is displeased with
them for having returned from Norfolk Island (which, as their lordships
are aware, they did in two parties, the first in 1859 and the rest, I
believe, in 1864), although their return was, I believe, at their own
expense, and they have since been no burden to the Crown. This notion,
whence received I know not, I venture to affirm was without foundation,
feeling assured that Her Majesty’s government would rather honor them
for preferring the primitive simplicity of their native island to
either the dissolute manners of Otaheite or even the more civilized but
less pure and simple ways of Norfolk Island.... They will lose rather
than gain by contact with other communities.”
I have etc., etc. A. F. R. DE HORSEY,
“_Rear-Admiral and Commander in Chief_.”
In July, 1879, the year following the visit of the _Shah_, H. M. S.
_Opal_ came, bringing a beautiful organ of American manufacture—Clough
& Warren’s—as a gift from the Queen, Her Majesty having sent the sum
of £20 to Admiral de Horsey for the benefit of the Pitcairn islanders.
This he expended in the purchase of the above-named gift, thinking, and
rightly too, that the money could not be spent in a more satisfactory
way. The organ is ornamented with a heart-shaped silver plate placed
in the center above the keyboard, bearing the inscription, “A present
from Her Majesty the Queen to her loyal and loving Pitcairn Island
subjects, in appreciation of their domestic virtues.” This gift was
received with pardonable pride that the Queen should condescend to
remember the little isolated colony, as well as with feelings of true
loyalty toward, and love for, their sovereign. When the captain of the
_Opal_ seated himself at the instrument and struck a few chords of the
national song of Great Britain, there was not a voice that did not join
heartily in singing, “God save the Queen.”
Besides the organ, the result that immediately followed the admiral’s
appeal to the “munificent people of England” was seen in the abundant
and varied substantial gifts sent to the island on H. M. S. _Osprey_ in
March, 1880. When the admiral’s account of his visit was published in
England, a ready response was made to his appeal by many friends there,
and subscriptions were immediately set on foot. The chairman of the
committee to direct matters and dispose of the various subscriptions,
the Rev. Andrew A. W. Drew, a clergyman of the Church of England,
particularly exerted himself in the interests of the islanders, he
and his wife attending personally to the packing of the many boxes
that contained the gifts, the task being a most wearisome one, as,
owing to the long way the boxes had to come, they needed to be packed
with the greatest care. Every article that was sent was of the best.
A large supply of schoolbooks and the much-needed slates and pencils
also came, a gratefully received addition to what the good people of
San Francisco had previously supplied. Especial mention should be made
of the handsome gift of a number of Oxford Bibles—teachers’ editions
and others. Each Sunday school teacher was furnished with a teacher’s
Bible, which was valued accordingly, and the happy possessors felt that
on them were bestowed the richest gifts that England sent.
The beautiful and costly present of two boats was also received,
and that too with feelings akin to shame that so much thought and
kindness had been bestowed on the islanders, whose part in receiving
far surpassed that of the “more blessed” giving. One of the boats was
named “Queen Victoria,” and it bears an inscription to the effect that
it was a gift sent in recognition of the “gallant services rendered by
the islanders in saving life.” The other boat, a whaleboat, was named
“Admiral Drew,” in remembrance of the father of the Rev. A. Drew, the
gentleman above mentioned. Mr. Drew had had the latter boat built
strictly in accordance with his own directions, and the beautiful
little craft answers admirably the purpose for which it was intended,
viz., battling with the heavy surf that so frequently beats upon the
shore.
Thus much in regard to the response made to the admiral’s appeal by the
large-hearted donors in England. A volume could, however, be written
respecting the numberless gifts from private individuals and others,
that have from time to time been showered upon the people of this
remote spot of earth, gifts that have been received with gratitude
mingled with a feeling of unworthiness on the one hand, and of
dependence on the other, enabling the recipients to experience in all
its force the truth of the expression, “It is more blessed to give than
to receive.”
An attempt had been made two years previous, by a firm in Liverpool,
De Wolfe & Co., to establish some sort of business on the island, the
planting and raising of cotton, preparing cocoanut and candlenut, and
also arrowroot, by these means to enable them to supply their simple
wants through their own exertions. But the little island was too far
removed from any business center to make it a paying concern, and in
less than two years after the attempt was made it was broken up.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
CHAPTER XX.
FRIENDLY VISITS
ABOUT the middle of the year 1880 seven of the youth from Norfolk
Island came on a visit to the old home of their parents. Scarcely any
communication passed between the two islands, so that the event of
their coming was improved in learning all about the state of the island
and people they had lately left.
The friends of the young men noticed with surprise that, with but one
exception, they were all slaves to the tobacco habit, both chewing
and smoking, for not one among the youth of the island practiced the
unclean vice. The captain of the whale ship with whom they had come was
himself a total abstainer as regarded both tobacco and spirits, but all
his endeavors to reform the young men under his command, example and
precept notwithstanding, failed to have the desired effect. He was more
successful when he attempted a reform among the old men of the island,
in one case at least, as the following incident will show.
In a meeting held on Sunday evening the captain addressed himself
to the tobacco users, seven in number, and those, five at least, the
oldest men in the community. He spoke very strongly against the bad
habit to which they were addicted, and its consequent evil results.
Some of his hearers were for the moment impressed with his appeals, and
two of them almost decided to abandon the vice forever. They respected
their would-be reformer enough not to indulge in the practice in his
presence. On the following morning, as one of the men was walking along
the road with a lighted pipe in his mouth, he espied the captain a
few yards ahead of him, waiting to give him a warm morning greeting.
Regardless of the consequences, in the fear of being found out, he
quickly caught the heated clay pipe from his lips and thrust it into
his pocket, which was as quickly burnt through. Though smarting with
the pain, he bravely shook hands with the captain and passed on, not
daring to betray his pipe, even at the cost of suffering. But it was
the last struggle he had with the habit, for from that day it was
abandoned, and he was made free, yet “so as by fire.”
It was during this same year, 1880, that an unusual and very peculiar
visitation appeared among the community, affecting only the younger
members, eleven or twelve young persons in all having been subject to
it. The disease, if such it may be called, was temporary insanity, the
case that lasted the longest not extending over two years. The first
symptom of the attack was a strange hallucination of the mind, the
person affected seeing some object which greatly terrified him, or
hearing voices calling to him, then gradually losing all recollection
of former events, until the mind became an utter blank. One peculiar
feature of the disease was a distorted vision, that transformed every
object into something different to what it was, as, for instance, a
full-grown man or woman appeared as but a child, while a mere baby
would assume the full proportions of a man. In almost every case the
patient was calm and quiet; the power of speech seemed taken away,
while the vacant stare showed that the mind had lost control over
itself.
[Illustration: GIRLS IN BATHING COSTUME.]
One case was that of a youth who had been shipwrecked, and whose stay
was prolonged on the island. This was in 1881. One morning he declared
that during the night he saw his mother’s coffin pass above him out of
the window, and nothing could persuade him that it was a delusion. A
few hours afterwards he became oblivious to everything that was going
on around him, and in the very first stage of the disease was entirely
deprived of the power of speech. When speech returned after a few days,
he employed himself searching from house to house for some fancied
friend who was unjustly condemned to prison, and whom he was sparing no
effort to release. On one occasion he wandered away during the night
to the opposite side of the island, where he was found by a party who
went in search, sleeping under an overhanging rock, wrapped up in his
scout’s blanket, for at that stage of his derangement he declared that
he was Davy Crockett out on an Indian trail. Davy Crockett was only
one out of the many different characters whom he personated in the
different stages of the disease.
Many and various were the phases that the disease assumed, each patient
being acted upon in a different manner. There has never been any
satisfactory explanation of the cause that produced it. The case above
mentioned as being of longest duration was that of a young girl whose
mind became affected in April, 1884, and was restored in the early part
of the year 1886. Since that time the peculiar disease has not made its
appearance.
In the early part of 1881 two young men left the island to venture for
the first time as far as England. There every kindness that could be
shown them was bestowed. One of them, however, almost immediately on
landing, was secured as a highly prized specimen of the human species,
to be exhibited in the Westminster Aquarium. Entirely ignorant of the
intention of the parties who had obtained him, he consented to their
proposal to accompany them, and they were soon speeding away from
Liverpool to London, where he was duly settled in his place in the
aquarium, and advertised. “Does he eat like other people?” was one of
the many questions that amused him, as it was earnestly put by one of
the spectators. A bluff old sea captain was very indignant that he had
to pay for the privilege of seeing an old acquaintance whom he had
twice visited in his far-away island home.
But he was not kept long in his unenviable position, for the Rev. A. W.
Drew, a clergyman of the Church of England, no sooner learned of the
facts of the case than he immediately came to the rescue. He at once
had the visitor from Pitcairn Island, whose health was much impaired,
removed to his own home, where he was taken care of and waited upon
in his hours of weakness and suffering with every attention and care
that kindness and love could suggest. Even when his life was all but
despaired of, the good clergyman and his estimable wife never gave
up their hope and trust in God that He would bless the efforts that
were made to restore their guest to health again. Their house was his
home during the rest of his stay, and the unwearying love and care
manifested by the many friends who came to see him, as well as by
the clergyman and his family, made an impression upon his mind that
could never be effaced. The other visitor shared the same kindness and
attention that were so lavishly bestowed upon his companion, the worthy
people of Hull, to which port his ship went, doing all that lay in
their power for him while he stayed with them. On their arrival in San
Francisco they experienced everywhere they went the utmost favors that
thoughtfulness could suggest or friendship could show.
In June of the same year another of the young men from the island left
for England. The two who preceded him returned home after an absence
of one year and two years respectively, but the third, Richard Young,
never came back, and after a period of nine years’ absence, died in
Oakland, California.
In the meantime another shipwrecked crew had been thrown upon the
hospitality of the islanders. The English ship _Acadia_, outward bound
from San Francisco, in about a month from leaving that port, was
wrecked on Ducie Island. As soon as it was ascertained that the ship
could not be saved, preparations were made to abandon her. The crew
were able to save a considerable portion of their clothes, and, putting
into their two boats as much provision as they could safely carry, made
sail for Pitcairn Island, stopping for a day at Elizabeth Island. On
leaving the ship, one of their number, the boatswain, received the
untimely discharge of a pistol in his body, which fortunately did not
prove serious.
On leaving Elizabeth Island, the wind, being in their favor, enabled
them to make a speedy passage to the place whither they were bound,
and on the morning of the second day the shipwrecked mariners were
gladdened by the sight of the English flag hoisted on the high peak
above the landing place. As before, the men were taken in by the
different families, in twos and threes, until they should have an
opportunity to leave. This soon occurred, Captain George, the first
officer, Mr. John Simpson, and two or three of the lads that were with
them on the _Acadia_, leaving on the American ship _Edward O’Brien_,
for England.
It may not be out of place to say here that, the trial that awaited
them having terminated favorably, Captain George and Mr. Simpson each
accepted a berth on board the steamer _Escambia_, the former occupying
the position of first officer, and Mr. Simpson a grade lower. The
_Escambia_ left London for China, going thence to San Francisco, where,
after loading, an attempt was made to put to sea before the cargo had
been properly adjusted. This imprudent act ended disastrously, for the
vessel keeled over and sank in a few minutes. Most of those on board
went down with the ship, and amongst those who thus perished were the
late captain and mate of the ill-fated _Acadia_. Of the rest of the
crew left on the island, three took passage for England on the American
ship _Alfred D. Snow_, and, later on, the remainder returned to San
Francisco, with the exception of three, who chose to remain on the
island, and a youth, whose home and parents were in San Francisco, but
who had been unfairly left behind. Nor did he have an opportunity to
return home until after a nine months’ stay on the island.
Two of the men whose choice was to remain were after a while married,
one making his home on the island, while the other, after a stay of
three years, left with wife and two little children for his home in
Wales, where the wife and mother died in less than a year.
The third, the carpenter of the ship, had also decided to follow his
two shipmates’ example, and succeeded, not wisely but too well, in
winning the affections of a girl who was shortly to be married to one
of the island men. But the unfortunate attachment ended unhappily, for
some of the young woman’s relatives, indignant at the turn of affairs,
set themselves to put the matter right, according to their judgment,
and enlisted the sympathies of the magistrate in their favor. He soon
had an opportunity, from a fancied insult to himself, to order the
Englishman off the island. The act, unjust in itself, was carried out,
and he left the island on the British man-of-war _Sappho_, in July,
1882. Captain Clark, of the _Sappho_, did not conceal his opinion of
the whole proceedings, but openly declared the injustice of the act.
However, in accordance with the magistrate’s strongly expressed wish,
he received the carpenter on board his ship, and gave him a passage to
Honolulu, where he obtained suitable employment.
In letters received from him he denounced bitterly and in unsparing
terms all who had shared in the unworthy strife that ended in his being
sent away. Before leaving, Captain Clark, by special request, framed a
law which forbade henceforth the marriage of a stranger to any of the
islanders, with the intention of settling amongst them. Several reasons
were given why such a law should be made, the principal one being
that the population was increasing quite rapidly enough without any
addition from the outside. The law was afterwards amended by a clause
stating that should anyone whose stay could benefit the island, wish to
settle there, he might do so. But as the island offered no inducement
whatever to anyone outside of its own inhabitants as a desirable place
for a home; there was no danger of any addition to the population from
outsiders, and the law might have remained as it was originally written.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
CHAPTER XXI.
The WRECK of the OREGON
TWO years had passed away after the crew of the _Acadia_ found a haven
on Pitcairn Island, when one night, the 23d of August, 1883, as the
islanders were about to retire to rest, they were startled by shouts
and the blowing of a fog horn from over the waters. That another
shipwreck had occurred somewhere near was evident, and the men, hastily
mustering, went forth with lanterns into the night, and were soon at
the landing place. Having launched a boat, a few minutes’ rapid pulling
brought them to the object of their search. It proved to be a boat
which had belonged to the bark _Oregon_, now a wreck on the reefs of
Oeno. She had been about a month out from Oregon on her way to Chile
when she struck on the reefs that surrounded the low-lying island of
Oeno. All the crew, and three passengers, a widowed lady and her two
infant boys, landed safely on Oeno Island. The position of the ship
after she struck was such as to enable the crew to remove everything
they wanted, so that they were comfortably settled during their
enforced stay.
When all had been made as comfortable as circumstances permitted, the
captain, Hardy by name, and his mate, Mr. Walker, after consulting
together, decided that the captain should take their small boat and
seek a passage through the heavy surf that broke continuously on the
reef surrounding the lagoon, and should he succeed in accomplishing it
safely, the rest were to follow in the two other boats, with as much
of the goods as they could prudently carry. Captain Hardy, accompanied
by one of the sailors and the cook, left the shore. Just when the
boat had passed beyond the smooth waters of the lagoon out into the
breakers, it capsized, and the poor captain was drowned. The mate’s
boat, following almost directly, passed safely through the rolling
surf, and in passing, the two men who were clinging to the upturned
boat, were rescued. With this addition to his crew, the mate, not
returning to tell those behind of the captain’s fate, at once steered
in the direction of Pitcairn Island. The weather being fair and the
wind favorable, they reached their destined place on the second night
out.
Most of the men in the mate’s boat were Chileans, and were scarcely
able to speak any word in the English language. All were received and
sheltered, a disused little building having been fitted up for their
accommodation, and after a rest of two nights and a day Mr. Walker,
leaving his own men behind, took a crew of the islanders and returned
to Oeno, in search of the remainder of the ship’s company. But these
had not waited his return, for, having been left without a word as
to what had occurred after the captain’s futile attempt to effect a
passage, they had launched their big boat, and, placing therein the
trunks belonging to the lady, Mrs. Collyer, who, with her children,
accompanied them, they too followed the way that the rest had taken.
A big Irish sailor took command of the boat and found some difficulty
in managing the rest of the men who were with him, and who certainly
showed no disposition to willingly obey his orders. Though he possessed
very limited knowledge in the art of navigation, yet, under the
guidance of a merciful Providence, their boat came in all right, and
the day after the mate had gone, the crew of tired men, who had rowed
almost the whole distance, beheld, with a feeling of true thankfulness,
the sight of land and the prospect of rest. The poor woman, too, was
worn out with anxiety, and the care and attention bestowed on her when
she arrived in the midst of friends were most gratifying.
Hers had been a sad experience. Her husband, the Rev. J. W. Collyer,
whose field of labor had been in Chile, was going, for the benefit of
his health, on a visit to his mother in the United States, and had
engaged a passage for himself and family on the bark _Oregon_, for the
State of the same name. Only a few days out from the South American
Coast his sickness took a sudden turn for the worse, and unexpectedly
and with but a few minutes’ warning he died, leaving not one word to
comfort and cheer his almost broken-hearted wife. She had to endure the
further pain of having him buried at sea, and in her widowed state,
among strangers, she made the voyage to Oregon. She was now returning
to her father’s house in Lola, Chile, when the unlooked-for disaster
happened, depriving her of the hope of soon seeing her family and
friends. But their stay on the island was of short duration, for, ere
the return of Mr. Walker from Oeno, all had been again received on
board the British ship _Leicester Castle_, in command of Captain Boag,
on his way to San Francisco.
Arriving at Oeno Mr. Walker’s first care was to secure the lady’s box
of jewelry, which he guarded with jealous care, but reached Pitcairn
just an hour too late to deliver the box into the lady’s own hands,
as the _Leicester Castle_ was about to make sail when the mate’s boat
appeared, the islanders having supplied whatever they could spare from
their own slender stock of provisions to help the heavy demands made
upon the stores of the _Leicester Castle_ by the addition of a whole
crew of shipwrecked men. After a long and tedious passage Captain
Boag at length arrived in port, where the crew of the late _Oregon_
were speedily discharged. Mrs. Collyer also left almost immediately
for home, where she arrived safely in due time, and where her box of
treasures reached her after a few months’ delay. On his arrival in
England Captain Boag suffered some inconvenience on account of his
having taken so many of the shipwrecked men on board his ship, and
drawing so heavily on his own limited resources to supply their wants.
On the 6th of November the last survivor of the generation immediately
succeeding the mutineers passed away. Elizabeth Young, _nee_ Mills,
and whose first husband was a son of Quintall the mutineer, died at
the ripe age of ninety-three. Her struggles with the last enemy were
protracted, as if life was so hard to yield up. While speech lasted,
she seemed to live over again the days when, as a child, she was
instructed by John Adams, and while tossing about on her bed and during
her calmer moments, she never ceased repeating the prayer that John
Adams taught his youthful flock to repeat before retiring to rest: “I
will lay me down in peace and take my rest, for Thou, Lord, only makest
me to dwell in safety. Into Thy hands I commend my body, soul, and
spirit. Thou has redeemed me, O Lord, Thou God of truth.” The second
year following the death of old Elizabeth Young—called by everybody
“ma-ma”—saw more deaths than had happened in any previous year since
the island was reinhabited, four deaths occurring among the community
during the year 1885.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
CHAPTER XXII.
ARRIVAL of MR. JOHN I. TAY
OWING to the extremely isolated situation of Pitcairn Island, and
the uncertainty that attends every effort to reach it again should
one venture beyond its narrow limits, the islanders had hitherto,
with very few exceptions, been satisfied to spend all their lives
together, rather than run the risk of leaving their lone island home
without having an idea when they would see it again. In a period of
twenty-seven years only five had left the island to visit other places,
all being men; but in January, 1886, for the first time an island
woman left her home and family, to begin life anew in a distant land.
To leave behind and forever the scenes of earlier years, the fond
parents and brothers and sisters, and the old life of simple duties
and pleasures, to enter upon a scene of life new and untried—indeed,
scarcely dreamed of—needed great courage. This she displayed, being
guided by her high sense of the duty she owed her husband, who, after a
stay of five years and a half, was about to return to his native land.
The pain of parting from parents, whose tender love had watched over
her whole life, and from brothers, sisters, and friends who cherished
her, and who prized her love and friendship, was bravely borne. Only a
short time, less than a day, was allowed them in making preparations
for their departure, and when the hour of parting came, the procession
that followed them to the landing place was like that of a funeral, as
all knew that the separation would be final. In less than a year after
reaching her new home she passed away, the cold winter in a foreign
land proving too severe for a constitution always delicate.
In October of the same year, 1886, on the eighteenth day of the
month, there arrived the British man-of-war _Pelican_, whose captain
had courteously and kindly received on board, at Tahiti, an American
missionary, John I. Tay by name, a member of the body of Christians
known as Seventh-day Adventists. Wishing to reach Pitcairn Island for
the purpose of setting before the people what he believed were truths
hitherto unknown to them, he found passage, as before stated, on board
the _Pelican_. He was treated by all the officers and men with the
greatest consideration and courtesy, and was successful, during the
passage, in awakening sufficient interest among some of the ship’s
company to lead them to inquire and search further into the subjects
presented in the books they received from him.
[Illustration: HATTIE ANDRE’S CLASS.]
As no objection was raised by the people in regard to the question
whether the missionary would be allowed to stay, he was left on the
island when the _Pelican_ went away. Ten years earlier a large package
of Seventh-day Adventist publications had been sent to the island,
accompanied by letters from two of the leading ministers of that body,
Elders James White and J. N. Loughborough, earnestly requesting the
people to give a candid, careful reading to what had been sent them.
The letters were read, but the pamphlets and tracts were regarded with
suspicion, and their contents were examined very cautiously at first.
Further study awakened deeper interest, until to the minds of
four-fifths of the people there came the conviction that the statements
regarding the Sabbath, supported by an array of proofs from the Bible
itself, were too convincing to be longer denied. Yet no one, until
the coming of Mr. Tay, left Sunday keeping and accepted the seventh
day as the Sabbath. This was done the second week of the missionary’s
stay, and before Mr. Tay left the whole community was observing and
thoroughly believing in the seventh day as the Sabbath of the Lord.
A careful study of the different points of doctrine held by Seventh-day
Adventists, led first to a conviction on the part of the people that
their positions were correct, and finally to their acceptance of them,
although they felt that this would be a matter of regret, if not of
positive displeasure, to many who had hitherto expressed, and shown in
a most substantial manner, the warm interest they had always felt in
the island of Pitcairn and its people. While this to the islanders was
sad to contemplate, they felt that they could not do otherwise than
follow their convictions of duty.
After the departure of Mr. Tay, who left in the last week of November,
1886, some differences arose in regard to the manner of worship, and
in the interests of harmony and Christian union a meeting was convened
to talk over and consider the matter and adopt some plan of worship in
which all could unite. This was in March, 1887, and the result of the
meeting was that the Book of Common Prayer was laid aside.
For a year the islanders had been observing the seventh day as the
Sabbath, and it was a question with them how the change would be
accepted by the representatives of the British Government, under whose
protection they were, when a man-of-war should arrive. Therefore, some
little concern was felt when, in December, 1887, H. M. S. _Cormorant_
came. The day was Sunday, and the visitors, noticing the fact that
the day was not being kept as a sacred time, were curious to know the
reason why. One question followed another, until the whole story was
told. Perhaps the following extract from an English periodical, written
by one of the gentlemen on board the _Cormorant_, best tells how the
change was regarded. After a brief description of the island and how it
was peopled, the writer goes on to say:—
“It will be a matter of regret, therefore, to many who are interested
in the little community to hear that within the last year or two their
principles have undergone a revolution, and that they have enrolled
themselves among the Seventh-day Adventists—a sect originating in
the United States. It was with natural surprise that I heard of this
change, and, in the course of conversation, found that its cause was
a visit to the island of an Adventist missionary who remained some
_weeks_, inculcating the doctrines of his sect among the islanders. He
could have found no better soil in which to sow his doubtful seed. Very
earnest and anxious to learn, implicit believers and reverencers of the
Bible, the simple islanders, ignorant of sophistry and the subtleties
of scriptural deductions, listened attentively to the arguments of
their fanatical visitor, who, taking the Bible as his standpoint, soon
convinced them of the soundness of his views.... The island was flooded
with Seventh-day Adventist literature, emanating from the headquarters
of the sect in Michigan, and the islanders were full of the enthusiasm
of converts in the pursuit of their new creed.”
The article from which the foregoing extract was taken, concludes with
a very pleasing description of the writer’s feelings on awaking in the
morning and hearing the voice of praise and prayer ascending from more
than one family altar, a custom begun by John Adams, the converted
mutineer, and which continues still.
The visit of the _Cormorant_ will always be among the bright and
pleasant remembrances of the island, although she stayed only two
days. On the first day every youth and child, as well as many adults,
underwent the light operation of being vaccinated. The act was in
itself simple enough, but the virus used was so powerful that many of
those who had for the first time been inoculated, were for several days
utterly prostrated with severe headaches and shooting pains throughout
the whole body. In many cases the wounds showed a strong disinclination
to heal, and so great was the flow of pus that it necessitated the
constant use of bandages until the lengthy process of healing was
accomplished.
Captain Nicolls gave an invitation to all who so wished to visit his
ship and enjoy a pleasant entertainment on board. The after part of
the deck had been prepared for the entertainment, and from side to
side of the ship was a great display of bunting, prettily festooned
to form a partition. The captain presided at a large piano, while at
his side stood one of his officers, accompanying on the violin, which
instrument contributed largely to the music, two or three more being
skillfully played by as many of the ship’s company. The loud cheers
that greeted every fresh performance were heard on shore, and when the
first star of evening appeared, the islanders sang for their closing
piece, “Twilight Is Stealing over the Sea.” Then all rose to finish
the evening’s enjoyment by singing “God Save the Queen,” after which
the island boats, with their human freight, started homewards, and the
_Cormorant_ steamed away to her destination, bidding good-by with her
siren whistle.
[Illustration]
CHAPTER XXIII.
THE MISSIONARY SHIP PITCAIRN
IN JANUARY of 1889 one of the saddest accidents that ever happened on
the island occurred. A young man twenty-four years of age went out one
day to search amongst the rocks for young sea birds. He was accompanied
by two of his younger brothers, who held a rope, while he descended to
a very dangerous place in the rocks. His brothers urged him in vain
not to go, but no amount of persuasion would avail, and he pursued his
purpose. He had taken a few birds and was about to try to get another
a few feet above him in a small hollow in the rock, when he lost his
footing and fell several hundred feet into the pitiless sea below.
Breathless with haste and pale with horror, the two other boys came
back to tell the awful story of what had taken place. The horror felt
by everyone was great, and the piercing cries of the mother and the
wife of the young man rent the air as they ran toward the scene of the
fearful accident. In as short a time as possible a boat was manned and
pulled by arms nerved to their utmost strength to the spot where the
young man’s body fell into the water. But nothing came of the search,
although it was kept up for days. All that was ever found was a hat
belonging to him, and which had floated a long distance from the place
where he fell.
Toward the middle of the same year an excitement of a different
character was experienced. When the _Cormorant_ visited the island
in 1887, which was the year of the Queen’s Jubilee, the captain and
officers inquired whether the little community had contributed anything
toward a celebration of the event. When the answer was given in the
negative, they said that the Queen would acknowledge a gift, however
small. Being thus encouraged, a box containing some specimens of the
people’s handiwork was put up as soon as possible, and sent to their
sovereign.
Her Majesty was graciously pleased to receive the humble token of
loyalty and love, and sent an acknowledgment, accompanied by a gift of
the coins struck on the occasion of her Jubilee, varying in value from
a sixpenny piece to four shilling pieces. These were to be distributed
among the women and girls, and Captain Nicolls, of the _Cormorant_,
on his second visit, had the pleasant duty of distributing the gift,
which the receivers were proud to get and keep in remembrance of their
beloved Queen. The ceremony over the _Cormorant_ left, but before the
return voyage was half accomplished, Captain Nicolls, at Rio Janeiro,
took the yellow fever and died. He was buried at sea.
A new decade was now entered upon, and in the opening month of 1890
the people celebrated, on the twenty-third day, the century of years
since the _Bounty_ arrived at the island. The same period of time which
among the nations of the earth had witnessed the amazing onward march
in progress and advanced civilization, saw but little change in this
little world situated by itself in the midst of the vast ocean. Yet the
people felt that God had led them all the way, and they met together
at the church to hold a service of praise with which to begin the day,
thanking God for past mercies and praying him to supply future grace.
Following is a hymn composed and sung on the occasion:—
Our Father, God, we come to raise
Our songs to thee in grateful praise;
We come to sing thy guiding hand,
By which supported still we stand.
To this fair land our fathers sought
To flee the doom their sins had brought,
In vain—nor peace nor rest was found,
For strife possessed th’ unhallowed ground.
Darkness around their path was spread;
Their crimes deserved a vengeance dread;
When, lo! a beam of hope was given
To guide their erring feet to heaven.
Thy holy word, a beacon light,
Had pierced the shades of sin’s dark night,
And poured a flood of radiance where
Had reigned the gloom of dull despair.
We own the depths of sin and shame,
Of guilt and crime from which we came;
Thy hand upheld us from despair,
Else we had sunk in darkness there.
We, their descendants, here to-day
Meet in thy house to praise and pray,
And ask thy blessing to attend
And guide us to life’s journey’s end.
Oh, that our lives henceforth may be
More consecrated, Lord, to thee!
Thy boundless favors to us shown
With gratitude we humbly own.
Thou know’st the depths from whence we sprung;
Inspire each heart, unloose each tongue,
That all our powers may join to bless
The Lord, our Strength and Righteousness.
In the early part of this year, 1890, the news came that the
much-talked-of missionary schooner had been built and would shortly
sail on its mission to the Pacific islands; but not until the 25th of
November of the same year did she arrive, making Pitcairn Island her
first stopping place. The missionaries, who were Elders Gates and Read
and their wives and Mr. and Mrs. Tay, were gladly welcomed. After a
short rest they began the work of organizing the church and Sabbath
school. The rite of baptism was performed, whereby all the adult
members of the community were received into the body of the church.
This solemn and impressive service was witnessed for the first time
by the people, who had hitherto seen and known only the sprinkling of
water on the faces of infants.
When the _Pitcairn_, for so the ship was named, left the island, three
of the islanders went away to engage in work in different places. On
her return, in July, 1892, two of her company were missing. Mr. Tay,
whose name was so closely associated with the ship, and also with the
island, had died at Suva, in Fiji, and the captain, Mr. Marsh, had
fallen a victim to the influenza, and died in Auckland, New Zealand.
Elder Gates and his wife remained on the island, while the _Pitcairn_
returned to California. Too much cannot be said of the good that their
stay accomplished. Although, physically, the gentleman was not strong,
he made every effort to elevate the minds of the people, who naturally
had, owing to their isolated situation, very narrow and limited views
of life. As soon as possible he started a class, which all the young
people attended, and, to further help them, organized a literary
society of over forty, in which every member took part, and which was
thoroughly enjoyed as long as it was kept up.
Four months after his coming he started a paper, giving it the name of
the _Monthly Pitcairnian_, to whose _written_ pages all were invited to
contribute. The paper had its own staff of reporters, six in number,
who almost invariably failed to send in any news; nevertheless, its
pages were always full. There was, first, the opening page, on which
generally appeared an original poem. This was followed by the editorial
page, which the editor, Elder Gates, contrived to fill with some lively
article. The rest of the paper consisted of five other departments,
devoted to Moral and Religious Topics, the Home Circle, News Items,
Pleasantries, and All Sorts.
On the 18th of February, 1893, the _Pitcairn_ came the second time
from San Francisco, bringing, in addition to the other passengers,
missionaries to be located on different islands. A teacher from
America, Miss Hattie Andre, just graduated from college, came to
organize and teach school on Pitcairn Island. After the necessary
delay incident on a fresh arrival, immediate steps were taken to have
the school fairly started. This was done in the early part of April,
and the young people, fully aware of their lack of education, were
not slow to avail themselves of the advantages offered them in having
for their instructor one so well qualified and fitted for the work.
Forty-two young persons, varying in age from fourteen to thirty-nine
years, had their names entered as students, one of these being a girl
from Mangareva, whose two younger brothers were placed among the other
children from the age of seven to thirteen years. These were twenty in
number, and were taught by one of the island women.
Mrs. Gates at the same time opened a kindergarten school for the
youngest children, and had a class of fourteen to begin with. In
addition to this she organized a mothers’ meeting, and had a class
twice a month, to instruct in the methods of giving treatment to the
sick, and also in cooking. Besides this she taught, or rather attempted
to teach, stenography to a few of the young people, some of whom soon
gave up the attempt to learn. Four diligently practiced, and were
meeting with a fair measure of success when the class was unavoidably
broken up.
The literary society and the classes taught by Elder Gates were merged
into the school, and the _Monthly Pitcairnian_ passed over into the
hands of the students, who were expected to keep its columns well
supplied, notwithstanding the lack of material to supply them with.
And now is drawing near a time unparalleled in the history of Pitcairn
Island—a time when she passed under a visitation so terrible while it
lasted, and so awful in its effects, that it was remarked that those
who survived it were not the same persons they were before it came.
But this is anticipating. On the 27th of April, 1893, the shipwrecked
crew of the _Bowdon_, lost on Oeno reef, came to Pitcairn Island.
The captain and a few others soon went away on an American ship for
England, while the rest waited for an opportunity to go back to San
Francisco. It is not necessary to give a detailed account of their
stay, but it brought no blessing to the island.
Several trips were made to and from the wreck by the islanders, and
even several of the women accompanied their husbands and brothers in
their last trip in open boats to Oeno. All returned in safety, no
accident having occurred either going or returning, as the weather
continued fine. This was in June, the month of vacation. The month
following H. M. S. _Hyacinth_ came, and during her short stay several
cases of sickness were attended by the doctor, who pronounced the
disease to be a form of _la grippe_. Some of the persons who were
suffering at that time had their lives despaired of, but all of them
eventually recovered.
That the awful fever that attacked the people was introduced with
the shipwrecked crew was evident. When the _Hyacinth_ left, a slight
attack of influenza spread among the people, aggravating the more
serious disease. Everything that was possible to be done under the
circumstances was accomplished, the missionaries exerting themselves
to the utmost to help the stricken people, who one by one rapidly fell
victims to the dread sickness. On the 26th of August the first death
occurred, opening the way for many others, and before the terrible work
of death was ended, twelve persons were taken away, the last death
occurring on the 19th of October. So urgent were the calls for help
from those who were helpless that there was scarcely time to weep for
the dead, and the few who passed unstricken through the fiery ordeal
were constant in their attendance, night and day, until nature itself
nearly gave up the struggle.
[Illustration: ROSA YOUNG’S CLASS.]
Some of the most valued workers and prominent members of the church and
Sabbath school, as well as two in civil office, fell, and four of the
most promising young people were taken away by death. Simon Young, the
loved and respected pastor of the church, who for twenty-nine years
had labored among the people, fell at his post. His daughter, Mrs. J.
R. McCoy, who was the first to die, and two sons, Edward and John
Young, the former leaving a widow and four children, all perished in
the plague. Ella McCoy, a girl of brightest promise, died a week after
her mother. By the deaths, the school lost five of its students, John
Young, Reuben Christian, Ella McCoy, and Martha and Clarice Christian.
Little Willie Christian was the only one from the younger department
who died. The three others who succumbed to the dread malady were Elias
Christian, father of little Willie, Childers Young, and a two-year-old
baby, Emma Christian.
The present writing witnesses the visit of the _Pitcairn_ on her
second return trip to San Francisco. When she leaves, Elder Gates and
family will leave too, also three young persons from the island will
take passage on her for California, to attend school there. Miss Andre
remains with us until duty calls elsewhere. With the _Pitcairn_ came
letters of sympathy and cheer from friends in Australia, where the news
of his wife’s death met Mr. McCoy.
What further awaits this little island is still in the future. Nearly
two years ago, in October, 1892, when the _Champion_, man-of-war,
called, Captain Rooke presided at a meeting held to inquire into the
altered religious views of the people, and that something of the same
nature is yet in store for the community is what is strongly believed.
Since the advent of the _Pitcairn_ there have been more frequent
communications between the Norfolk Island people and their relatives
on Pitcairn Island, but the means of communication with the outside
world is far from satisfactory.
Several among the people of the island have taken short trips to Tahiti
and Mangareva, and have returned, and in 1891 two young men went to
California and Oregon, on a British bark, the _Earl Dunraven_, whose
captain, a friend of the islanders, brought a large gift of clothing
and many useful things from kind friends in the places he visited.
In writing this account of facts concerning Pitcairn Island it is felt
that it would be unjust not to mention everyone to whom the people are
indebted for favors unnumbered; but that is scarcely possible; only
we feel it beyond our power to express the debt we owe to so many,
and as the years come and go, and bring us to the grand close of all
earthly things, we can only pray that those who have watched over us in
supplying our wants may meet a rich reward. The unceasing efforts that
have been put forth by friends in the long past, and by those who have
risen to fill their places, to elevate and benefit the people, have not
all been in vain, and whatever of good has been accomplished, all under
God, is owing to those efforts.
No account of the history of either Pitcairn or Norfolk Island—the
latter in regard to the second “social experiment” carried out there,
viz., the occupation of that island by the descendants of the _Bounty_
mutineers—can be complete without a mention of two who figured
largely in the early history of the settlement of Pitcairn Island by
the mutineers and their descendants. These two were John Buffett and
the Rev. G. H. Nobbs, who, especially the latter, from the time of
their advent among the small community in 1823 and 1828 respectively,
continued to do all that lay in their power for the social benefit of
the people, even though some most serious mistakes were made.
Mr. Nobbs, who so closely identified himself with the people, and whose
constant effort was to promote their best interests, closed his long
and useful life in November, 1884, going down to his grave respected
and honored by all, and leaving behind him sons well qualified to
sustain his honored name.
John Buffett, also, who so nobly volunteered to shut himself off
from all the fascinations that the world may have contained for him,
and chose to cast in his lot with a community so insignificant and
so remote, that he might help John Adams in his declining days, in
the arduous duties and heavy responsibilities that the rearing of a
youthful colony necessitates, passed away in May, 1891, having nearly
completed a century of years. He also left numerous descendants behind
him; all his children, consisting of seven sons and one daughter,
survived him, children of whom he had no cause to be ashamed. His
companion, John Evans, who for the love that he bore him deserted his
ship, and hid himself away that he might remain with Buffett, died in
December of the same year, 1891, at a very advanced age, being tenderly
and lovingly cared for by his only surviving daughter and her children.
In this record of deaths may fitly be mentioned that of another who
performed no mean part in seeking to raise the social standing of the
people over whose children he was placed as their schoolmaster. Mr.
Thomas Rossiter, who for many years faithfully fulfilled the heavy
duties of teacher of a large school on Norfolk Island, duties for which
he was eminently qualified, after some time resigned his place to
others. His death occurred in 1893. The school is now conducted by Mr.
Alfred Nobbs, a son of the Rev. G. H. Nobbs, assisted by a few other
teachers.
A few more words concerning the great mortality attendant on the
epidemic that resulted so fatally among the inhabitants of Pitcairn
Island during the months of August, September, and October, 1893. With
the exception of three or four of the islanders, the entire community
suffered more or less from the terrible visitation. The missionaries
resident on the island at the time wholly escaped the pestilence, a
fact which was doubtless due to the beautiful regularity of habits that
they unfailingly practiced, and the remarkable and beneficent results
of which were so noticeable during the time of the fever. That the
irregular habits of the people both in eating and sleeping had much
to do in producing such fearful consequences there can be no doubt,
and this matter, which had before been plainly presented to the people
by the faithful missionaries, but which had not received the amount
of attention that its importance demanded, was after the fever more
strongly than ever urged upon the people, their own example serving,
more than the precepts they taught, to illustrate the truth of their
teachings. The result of all is that now the community that had for
so long neglected the plainest principles of the laws of health, are
beginning to realize that they cannot always ignore those laws with
impunity, nor disregard them without great injury to themselves—a
lesson that the saddest experience through which they have passed
served but to deepen and impress upon their minds, minds that had
hitherto been too indifferent and careless in regard to these things,
and too slow to comprehend the importance of them. Every step taken in
the right direction has, under God, been the result of the faithful
teachings of Elder Gates and his wife, who before they left had the
satisfaction of seeing a reformation in the dietary habits of the
people.
The question has been frequently asked whether the people degenerate
physically in consequence of too close relationship in marriage. To
this the answer must be given in the negative, unless, as someone has
observed, the loss of the front teeth, which is quite general, be a
sign of degeneracy. But, in the writer’s opinion, that is the result of
not paying a more strict attention to the care and cleanliness of the
teeth, and no doubt also to the fact that the food usually eaten is not
of the kind to strengthen and preserve them.
The civil government of the island differs somewhat to what has been
the custom for years. When the _Champion_, man-of-war, visited the
island in October, 1892, Captain Rooke presided at a meeting convened
to consider some questions, civil and religious, acting as regards the
former agreeably to the opinion of the British Consul at Tahiti, with
whom he had consulted when on the eve of leaving Tahiti for Pitcairn
Island.
The outcome of the meeting was as follows: 1. It was moved and carried
that seven members of parliament be elected. 2. Those seven, having
been elected by general vote, will next proceed to elect from their own
numbers the next magistrate to hold office yearly. 3. It was suggested
that not less than five of the seven meet to form a quorum to consider
any business—all seven if the question be very grave.
Some other points were brought forward and discussed at some length,
but it is sufficient for the purpose to mention only these. The
resolutions proposed were soon acted upon, and the plan was found to
work well. The women as well as the men have a vote.
As regards the present social standing of the people a few words might
be said. Many who have visited the island have gone away with the
impression that the favored inhabitants breathe a purer air than other
people, and an atmosphere wholly untainted by sin; but it is difficult
to conceive how such an idea can for a moment be entertained concerning
any place upon earth which is inhabited by any of Adam’s fallen race.
Human nature is human nature the world over, and fallen at that, so
that it is certainly a mistake to think that, because so remote from
the rest of the world, no vice or sin of any kind mars the character or
degrades the reputation of those who dwell so secluded from the world.
But Satan found an entrance into the Eden home of our first parents
ere yet they had known of the existence of sin, and who inheriting
their tainted nature dare hope to escape his snares? Further, how was
it possible that a people sprung from such a debased stock as settled
the island over a century ago, and in whom runs the blood of those who
stopped short at no crime, could be pure and stainless in character?
A beautiful simplicity no doubt characterized the lives of the little
community that grew up under the fostering care of John Adams, and,
indeed, all through a century’s period much of that simplicity still
remains, but it is a mistake to cherish the idea that sin does not
have a kingdom on the little island; and while it is cause of deep and
humble thankfulness to God that He has, by His mercy and through the
instrumentality of a multitude of Christian friends, kept the people
from sinking into the lowest state of degradation and sin, it is also a
fact to be deplored that there are among the people strong tendencies
in a wrong direction, tendencies that God’s grace alone can keep in
check.
The visits of the missionary ship _Pitcairn_ from the island of that
name to Norfolk Island are hailed with unfeigned pleasure, as it is by
that means that the two communities so closely related by blood have
any certain communication with each other. These visits are the means
by which the younger portion of the two communities have their interest
in each other awakened. The dear ties that bound so closely the hearts
of the older members, though sundered by distance, were never lost
sight of, but it was scarcely to be expected that younger members,
growing up without any knowledge of one another, should preserve
undiminished the same feelings of kindred affection that their fathers
and mothers possessed, and so it is matter for thankfulness that the
old ties are being revived and strengthened.
[Illustration]
APPENDIX TO FOURTH EDITION.
The interest manifested in that far-away mite in the Pacific—Pitcairn
Island—and the avidity with which the first two editions of this book
were sought for, has led the publishers to issue this improved edition.
Since the publication of the book many articles in regard to Pitcairn
have appeared in the newspapers in all parts of this country.
The New York _World_ sent a letter of inquiry to Miss Young, the author
of this book, in October, 1893, and her answer appeared in that paper
under date of January 13, 1895.
The letter is of such general interest and conveys such recent news
from Pitcairn, that it is thought best to publish it herewith.
We also append an article published in _Harper’s Weekly_ of December 8,
1894, describing a visit made by Captain Cornelius A. Davis to Pitcairn
in March, 1894. The article is of particular interest because it comes
from a disinterested observer.
PUBLISHERS.
MISS YOUNG’S LETTER TO THE “SUNDAY WORLD.”
PITCAIRN ISLAND, in the South Pacific,}
August 18, 1894.}
_To the Sunday World_—
It is probable that, such a long time having elapsed before you
received any reply to your letter, you have taken it for granted that
it never reached its destination. The facts in the case are that it
arrived here on the 3d of February last, having been sent on from San
Francisco, thence to Tahiti, and from that place to Wellington, New
Zealand, to the brigantine _Pitcairn_, our missionary ship, which
brought it here on the above-named date.
It should have been replied to in February, and the answer sent you
_via_ _Pitcairn_, bound to San Francisco, which place she reached
somewhere near the end of March, but having had some considerable
writing then on hand which it was absolutely necessary that I should
finish, I was obliged to let some of my letters go unanswered,
yours among the rest, and then, in the unavoidable hurry and bustle
consequent upon leave taking, it was forgotten until a day or two ago.
Please pardon my carelessness, which has been quite unintentional, as I
am one who does not believe in ignoring the correspondence of anyone,
and would think myself guilty of rudeness not to send a reply to anyone
who should show enough interest in us and our island’s history as to
request any information that it is in my power to give.
I will with pleasure answer your questions, for the readers of the
great _Sunday World_, and trust they may prove satisfactory to you,
but, first, a fact or two concerning myself may prove of interest.
I am Young (one of the descendants of the original settlers), but young
no longer in years, having completed my forty-first year five days ago,
on the 13th inst. At the date when your letter was written, October
26, I had just passed the crisis of a fever typhus that had taken as
victims twelve of our number, my honored and beloved father among the
number, and, in addition to him, two brothers, a sister, and a niece.
In regard to the wish expressed in one or more of my published letters
that you mentioned, _i. e._, that of paying a visit sometime to the
outside world, or, rather, to some portion of it, that wish remains
still ungratified. My mother’s father was an Englishman, who, at the
age of twenty-six, decided to cast in his lot with the little handful
of children of the mutineers who were in 1823 ruled over in a sort of
patriarchal manner by the sole survivor of the mutineers, John Adams.
He, Adams himself, unlettered and unlearned, had, after all the rest
of his companions died, most of them having been murdered, wakened up
to a sense of the great responsibility that rested upon him, with the
growing young community on his hands, and when, in 1823, a whale ship,
the _Cynes_, happened to call in here, he expressed the earnest wish
that someone would feel sympathy enough for him and the worse than
orphaned children he was striving to lead, according to the best light
he had, upward to God and good, to remain and assist him.
My grandfather, John Buffett, remained, and ever since I can remember
his talking about his early boyhood home in Bristol, England, it
has been my wish one day to go there. That dear hope is abandoned.
I had a sister who married, and took her two little boys away to
Cardigan, Wales, to her husband’s home, and she passed very near our
grandfather’s early home, but that was all.
Since she went away to Wales, over eight years ago, it has been the
earnestly expressed wish of my heart to pay them a visit, but my sister
died in April, 1887, having been there only eleven months, and my
earnest, longing wish to see my dear little nephews again will never be
realized.
I have had frequent invitations from many dear, valued friends to visit
America, but can see no open way yet. I had my trunk packed ready to
go to California last year, but unforeseen circumstances prevented it.
Five of our people from this island went, but I was not one, although
I deeply grieved over it. All those who went have returned, with the
exception of a young man now at school at Healdsburg, and a charming
little girl adopted for a time by a minister and his wife, who have
been living here, a Mr. and Mrs. Gates. I shall now take up and answer,
in regular order, the points in your letter about which you request
information. First, school work.
How I happened to become connected with that work was in this way—I
shall have to go back many years to begin at the start: In the years
1857-1858 two families, not being altogether satisfied with the change
of living on Norfolk Island, left that place and returned here, to
their old home. Those families consisted of fifteen or sixteen persons,
Moses Young and family, and Mayhew Young and family, which were mostly
children by the wife’s former husband, a McCoy. It may interest you to
know that Mayhew was so named for Captain Mayhew Folger, the American
captain who discovered, away back in 1808, that this island was
inhabited by the children of the mutineers.
Well, to be brief, my own father, Simon Young (I cannot begin to tell
you how good he was), feeling that the children of the two families
that first returned needed someone to look after their educational and
spiritual affairs, determined that he would make the effort to return
also and do what he could for them. His own educational advantages
had been very limited, but he had made the very best use he could of
them, and had taught the children, while on Norfolk Island, the art, at
least, of reading, writing, and the four principal rules in arithmetic.
So, in December, 1863, our family and a few others besides left Norfolk
Island to come back here, arriving in the early part of February, 1864.
We left a good school and teacher behind, and I have never ceased to
regret that it was never my privilege to have gone through some regular
course of study, to better enable me to accomplish what has since been
my life work, for I was only ten when my return here was made.
As soon as possible father took up the work of teaching the few
children and young people as best he was able, and, at about fourteen
years of age, I began to help him by putting the youngest through
the alphabet and first reading lessons. I have had no educational
privileges, and only do the best I can, with what success will be known
in the great hereafter.
In February, 1893, Miss Hattie Andre, a young lady just graduated from
a college in Michigan, arrived here to take charge of the school. My
loved and honored father, sixty-nine years of age, then retired from
the work, leaving it in the hands of Miss Andre and myself. She has
a membership of about thirty-four of the young people, and I teach
twenty-one of the youngest children, from the age of seven to fourteen,
two of mine being Dano-Spanish boys from Mangareva, one of the Gambier
Islands. Their sister attends Miss Andre’s school.
You inquire about our religious belief. When John Adams took up the
work of trying to rear in righteousness the rising young community,
his sole aids to education were a Bible and Book of Common Prayer,
saved from the _Bounty_. With these extremely limited means he taught,
quite successfully, the young folks to read, and, instituting some sort
of religious services, he very naturally had the liturgy of the Church
of England to pattern after.
This is what we had followed until October, 1886, when we, as a body,
and after ten years’ searching “whether those things were so,” and
battling against most unfounded and unreasonable prejudices, joined
ourselves to that church known as the Seventh-day Adventists—seventh
day because we believe in and preach the letter of the fourth
commandment of the decalogue, and Adventists because we believe in
the soon coming of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ in the clouds of
heaven to take his true followers to himself.
In our view of the case this is the explanation of so much that the
world at large is at present undergoing, and which seems so mysterious
to those who do not make the prophecies of God’s word their study.
You very rightfully judged that we are kept pretty well posted by means
of newspapers and friends, who now and then touch in here on their
way to different ports, in regard to what the world is doing, but
we have no regular means of correspondence. Our friends abroad take
advantage of the occasional trips of our little missionary ship to send
us letters and anything else, as she always comes direct to us after
leaving California. She arrived on the 17th ult., and proposes to make
a quick return to America (if she is not sold, as has been arranged),
where she will be about the end of the present year.
Several of our people have made visits to some of the neighboring
islands and some have gone to England and back, but I do not think the
words “dissatisfied with our lot” can be properly applied to anyone
here. In regard to myself personally, I am so in love with the free,
natural life I enjoy here that I would not willingly exchange it for
any other, much as I would enjoy a visit to your shores and to see in
reality the life of the world of which I have read so largely—life in
all its phases, from the high-toned “society” life to the very lowest.
So that I do not feel that “surprised” would correctly describe my
impressions.
Yes, marriage is—shall I say it?—committed among our people, the
different family names numbering seven. Young, McCoy, and Christian
are of the original families, and those who have come in later on are
Buffett, Warren, Butler, and Coffin, the last three being Americans,
and only the very last, Coffin, still lives. I think away back in the
long past there were some curious “love stories” which would prove
quite interesting reading, and within my own knowledge there are
several that would make a good foundation for very entertaining stories
should someone be found to weave them.
From the time of John Adams until the last marriage ceremony took place
here—that was in 1889 (I seem to see you smile at the long space that
intervenes)—the form used has been that of the Church of England. In
the eighties the young people seemed to think that the chief end of man
and woman, or rather of boy and girl, was marriage; and scarcely had
they arrived at man’s and woman’s estate, certainly not to the estate
of wisdom and prudence, when marriage was contracted. At present, and
it gladdens my heart to see it, more efforts are made at getting some
education than in getting married, and we have quite a company of young
men and women who think more of getting what they can out of their
schoolbooks than of being bound for life to one another.
I am not exactly posted as to the number of inhabitants here at
present, but think that after the fourteen deaths that took place last
year the population is about 136 only, the largest part being children
under the age of sixteen.
It is quite universally accepted among people of the world outside our
own little speck of earth that coined money is an almost unheard-of,
unknown, and, of course, unused article among us, but such are not the
real facts in the case. Our circumstances make it possible to exist, as
far as the necessities of life are concerned, without the use of money,
_i. e._, as far as food, fuel, water, and our houses are concerned, but
for clothing we depend upon the product of our island, which we sell,
when the opportunity offers, to a trader who calls here and brings
us our supplies in that line. In addition to this, many friends have
contributed from time to time very largely to our comfort in gifts of
clothing and other things that we cannot procure here.
Our “standard of value” is the American dollar and the English pounds,
shillings, and pence, on which no discount is made here, as we are
English subjects. It would amuse you to see how many and various are
the coins that pass through our hands, and whose value often puzzles
us. As we are not in a position to obtain (except on occasions when we
are visited by a British ship of war) more than a few cents at a time,
in exchange for fruit and curios, we do not, as do Sabbath schools
abroad, contribute every week, but the dimes, quarters, shillings and
pence that may be obtained from passing ships are carefully hoarded for
the quarterly donation.
We have a Sabbath school of 125 members, varying in age from two years
to seventy-two; and happy the child, as well as the grown-up, who has
an offering as large as a quarter to donate at the beginning of every
quarter. We are glad at the thought of our little “mite” contributed
towards the missionary ship _Pitcairn_, the first one to be built and
used in the interests of the Seventh-day Adventists, and that our
Sabbath school is self-supporting.
Our amusements consist, I may say, in a change of occupations. A
peculiar way in which to amuse one’s self, you will think, but really
our time is too fully occupied in so many different ways to have time
or inclination even for amusements that are amusements merely. If the
boys can have enough powder for their guns to boom away at their own
sweet will, they ask for no greater pleasure, and one unwearying source
of enjoyment for the young people here is to gather around an organ and
spend the time in singing to the accompaniment of the instrument.
You ask if a photographer has ever come to our shores. Yes, many
of them, and many views have been taken, not only of the varied
scenery, but of the people, mostly in groups. Last March an American
shipmaster, Captain Davis, was here and spent most of his time taking
pictures. Among others, he took that of Miss Andre and her school, and
of me and my bare-footed little boys and girls.
The gentleman and lady mentioned above, Mr. and Mrs. Gates, had been
living with us for eighteen months, and last February, when they were
leaving, I gave Mr. Gates a manuscript copy of a little work I had been
writing, the facts connected with this island’s history from the time
it was inhabited by the _Bounty’s_ mutineers up to date. I did not
confine myself to solid work, but only wrote at long intervals, so that
what should have been finished within a short time was dragged out to a
length of six years. Possibly some of the photographic views taken here
will be used to illustrate the little work. It should be going through
the press now, if not already gone, and will be brought out in book
form—only a very simple, modest affair—at the Pacific Press, Oakland,
Cal., where you may obtain a copy if you have enough interest in it to
order one.
I have already written longer then I should have done, and fear my long
letter will prove a tax to your patience, but your questions have been
answered at some length, so I trust you will excuse my trespassing on
your valuable time to read all this product of my pen.
I shall be pleased to have you write when you are so inclined, and also
to learn when you get this letter.
Yours very cordially,
ROSALIND A. YOUNG.
A VISIT TO PITCAIRN ISLAND.
When Captain Cornelius A. Davis, of the five-masted schooner _Governor
Ames_—the only schooner of her class in the world, as well as the
largest fore-and-aft vessel in existence—dropped anchor off Pitcairn
Island, four thousand miles south of San Francisco, a few months ago,
he was surprised to find himself greeted by name by a delegation of
islanders who came on board. The inhabitants of the historic little
island are accustomed to keep a sharp lookout for all passing vessels,
and as soon as one is sighted in the offing, a boat pushes out to her,
carrying friendly greetings and the offer of any assistance that may
be needed. From each captain news of the ship he has left behind in
the last port is obtained, together with the probable date of their
sailing; so that in a majority of instances when a vessel reaches
Pitcairn she is recognized immediately, and the skipper discovers that
he does not need any introduction to his new-found island friends—for
such they very soon prove themselves to be. He is invited to land and
partake of the best the island affords, and the impression he carries
away with him is uniformally a pleasant one. Captain Davis says that he
would have been glad to stay at the island two or three days if there
had been any good excuse for doing so, but after he had secured some
fresh fruit for the crew, he felt compelled to resume his voyage. Puget
Sound had been left behind thirty-five days earlier, and Liverpool was
still one hundred and twenty-nine days away.
* * * * *
There is no more picturesque incident, perhaps, in the annals of
marine venture than the mutiny on board the British ship _Bounty_,
in 1789, and the subsequent landing of several of the mutineers on
Pitcairn Island, a speck of land which had been discovered some years
before by Carteret, and named for the midshipman who first descried
it from the masthead. These mutineers, fearing punishment, resolved
to hide themselves from the world, and accordingly sought out this
lonely spot, and, together with a number of Polynesian men and women,
founded a new community far from the ordinary track of commerce. At
first, according to the scant historical accounts which have come down
to us, there was riot and reveling on the island, but gradually the
rougher element in the population disappeared, and when the American
vessel _Topaz_ rediscovered the little settlement in 1808, it seems
to have been orderly and prosperous. For more than half a generation
the whereabouts of the mutineers of the _Bounty_ had been a mystery,
and their rediscovery at this time aroused a good deal of interest,
especially in England. It was as if the sea had given up its dead.
Everything pertaining to the little strip of land in the far Pacific
was hailed with interest, and in the eighty-six years since then many
books and papers descriptive of it and its people have been written.
In a few weeks another volume is to be published in California by the
Seventh-day Adventists, who have recently succeeded in converting the
islanders to their faith. Formerly they were associated with the Church
of England.
The community to-day is a model one in many respects. Since the time
of the hardy mutineers a great change has taken place, and it is said
that nobody on the island ever indulges in intoxicants, tobacco, or
profanity. A rude church and schoolhouse—the structure shown in two
of the illustrations accompanying this article—has been erected, and
one of the descendants of the early settlers preaches regularly to all
the members of the settlement, for church going is regarded as a matter
of course on Pitcairn; and, moreover, there are not very many other
divertisements. When it is remembered that there are only about one
hundred and thirty people on the entire island, and that the island is
scarcely three miles in length, it is easy to understand the lack of
excitement which sometimes characterizes life there. And yet a spirit
of intense loyalty pervades the community. Nobody has any desire to
remove permanently to any other place, and those who visit the United
States and Great Britain do so merely to prepare themselves for more
useful labor at home. The other day young Henry Christian, a descendant
of the leader of the mutiny on board the _Bounty_, arrived in San
Francisco, whither he had come for the purpose of pursuing a course of
study at an American school, but there can be no doubt that he will
return in due time to Pitcairn. With him came also the president of
the island, James R. McCoy; for the islanders elect an officer with
this title, although they are under the nominal rule of England. Queen
Victoria sent them two lifeboats some years ago, and these are used
constantly in boarding the vessels that anchor off shore. A British
flag, too, flies from one of the peaks of the island, the flagstaff
being planted in the muzzle of one of the old cannon with which the
_Bounty_ was equipped.
Captain Davis is an expert amateur photographer, and he succeeded,
during his few hours’ stay on the island, in getting some admirable
views of the people and their surroundings. One of these views [see
page 231] shows most of the adult inhabitants grouped around Miss
Andre, a young woman from Ohio, who assists the native minister in
his religious work, and instructs the men and women of the community
in the ordinary branches of education. Captain Davis listened to a
well-recited lesson in geography the day he was there, and he says that
these grown-up students seemed intelligent and eager to learn. Their
faces are strong and impressive, and while there is a considerable
trace of “Kanaka” blood in most of the countenances, others are
thoroughly Caucasian. The mixture of totally dissimilar races has
in this instance, at least, resulted in a sturdy, resourceful, and
self-reliant stock.
The primary school is taught by Miss Rosa Young, a native of Pitcairn,
and the author of the book descriptive of the island which is about
to be published. She is the island editor as well as schoolteacher,
writing a chronicle of the community from time to time, which passes
from one to another of the people. There is no printing press on the
island, and this is the only contemporary record of its doings enjoyed
by the settlement. But then, with only one hundred and thirty people
to keep track of, doubtless everybody who is so inclined contrives to
be pretty well posted. On two different occasions Pitcairn has been
deserted by its inhabitants, for one reason or another, and the present
inhabitants are descended mostly from two families who returned to the
island as late as 1858. In 1830 the eighty-seven people then resident
there removed to Tahiti through fear of drought, and, though the moral
laxity of the latter place so disturbed them that they went back to
Pitcairn the next year, in 1856 they undertook a second pilgrimage,
this time to Norfolk Island, where many of them or their descendants
live to-day. William and Moses Young, together with their families,
however, appear to have pined for Pitcairn, and accordingly journeyed
back there again.
The landing place shown in one of the pictures [see page 27] on
another page is at Bounty Bay, where the original settlers of the
island destroyed their vessel more than a hundred years ago, and where,
as the illustration shows, many of the inhabitants gathered to bid
Captain Davis good-by. Up from this spot runs a path to the settlement
itself, which is three or four hundred feet above the level of the sea.
The main street is bordered with palm trees, and the thatched cottages
on either side give evidence of thrift and prosperity. There are no
cows or oxen on the island, but goats are plentiful, and as the land
is steep and rocky in places, these sure-footed animals are doubtless
better adapted to the needs of the people. Oranges grow in abundance,
and so do sweet potatoes, yams, bananas, and pineapples. Captain Davis
says that the dinner provided in his honor at the house of the Advent
missionary was bountiful and excellent.
In these days of hurry and bustle it is refreshing to catch a glimpse
of an Arcadian community like this, whose little world is far removed
from all our modern tendencies in civilization. There are no telephones
or telegraphs on Pitcairn Island; no oceanic cable brings from the
distant mainland the tidings of war or catastrophe on the other side
of the globe. Scarcely any of the inhabitants ever saw a railway train
or an electric light, and probably not even one of them has ever been
inside of a theater. The papers and magazines that they read are weeks
old by the time they reach Pitcairn, and much that they contain must
be as unintelligible as Greek to the islanders. What do they know
of college football games? or how much can they comprehend of the
excitement of a presidential election? They are a people apart, and
their horizon is bounded by limitless sea and sky.—_Henry Robinson
Palmer, in Harper’s Weekly, December 8, 1894._
Transcriber’s Notes
Page 21—changed toobouai to =toobonai=
Page 104—changed folows to =follows=
Page 132—changed Christain to =Christian=
Page 261—changed postion to =position=
Page 266—changed Pitcain to =Pitcairn=
*** End of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "Mutiny of the Bounty and story of Pitcairn Island, 1790-1894" ***
Copyright 2023 LibraryBlog. All rights reserved.