Some Experiences of a New Guinea Resident Magistrate

by C. A. W. Monckton

The inquiry resulted in the committal for trial for murder of practically the whole of the Mambare prisoners then in gaol in Samarai, and it also involves an explanation on my part of the events leading up to it. In 1894—I think it was—Sir William MacGregor, accompanied by Moreton, R.M. for the Division, ascended the Mambare River from its outfall in Duvira Bay to its highest navigable point, a few miles above Tamata creek. What are now known as the Mambare and Duvira Bay, were originally named by Admiral Moresby the Clyde and Traitor’s Bay respectively. The banks of the river were found to be fairly densely populated by a strong and warlike race of people, with whom, however, they avoided coming into hostility. Sir William discovered the existence of gold in the sand and shores of the river; and, upon his reporting that fact in the course of his official dispatch, a prospecting party of miners from Queensland was fitted out, headed by a man named Clark, to be shortly followed by another party led by Elliott, for the exploitation of the discovery.

Clark’s party arrived at Samarai, and, in spite of Moreton’s protests, went to the Mambare, where they apparently had got into friendly relations with the natives, and had employed them to assist in hauling their boat up the rapids. A short distance above Tamata the whole of the white men composing the party—with the exception of their leader Clark—left their boat with their rifles in it and walked along the bank, whilst the Mambare natives hauled her up a rapid by means of a long rope, Clark meanwhile steering the boat. Suddenly in the middle of the rapid the natives cut the rope, thereby allowing the boat to drift rapidly down stream and into the midst of a swarm of following canoes manned by armed natives, who at once launched showers of spears against Clark. The latter used his revolver for a few minutes, and then fell, pierced by a dozen spears; the remainder of his party rushed down the bank, drove off the natives by revolver fire, and, having recovered their boat, fled down stream, where they met Elliott’s party coming up. The two parties, then uniting forces, took a quite illegal and unnecessary vengeance by burning villages, cutting down cocoanut trees, and generally involving every tribe and village on the river in the murder and disturbance; having succeeded in doing this, they fled to the beach and thence south to Samarai.

Sir William MacGregor hastily proceeded to the Mambare, some fighting took place, and several arrests of natives were made, including, amongst others, one Dumai. Sir William then decided to place a police post and magistrate on the Mambare to control the miners and natives; for this work, out of the small number of officers available, not numbering twenty all told, he selected John Green. This officer was, for native affairs, absolutely the best man the service of New Guinea ever possessed; he spoke Motuan as well as a Motuan; he could speak practically every language then known in New Guinea, and he had the faculty of gaining a native people’s confidence and learning their language in quicker time than any other man I have ever met; above all, he was absolutely fearless. John Green was therefore, at this time, the most valuable man for a difficult post in the New Guinea service.

TAMATA CREEK

When Green was appointed to take charge of the Mambare, he asked that Dumai—the Mambare prisoner—should be released and recruited into the Armed Constabulary, to form a unit of his detachment for that post; this was done, and Dumai, late prisoner, became a full private of the Armed Constabulary in the Mambare detachment. From this appointment came later the tragedy of Tamata Station, for which many have been blamed, including and principally Green. It is not my wish to blame or excuse anybody, but in this matter no one other than Green was in error. As I said before, he was the best man for native affairs New Guinea possessed; he was given a difficult job, and it was therefore necessary he should have a free hand in the selection of his men; he picked his men and made a mistake; and for that error of judgment he paid with his life and the lives of many others. But Green died—as did in later years Christopher Robinson—a brave and gallant gentleman; expiating with all he had to give, his mistake and not his fault.

Green and his men were encamped at the mouth of Tamata creek on the Mambare, all the tribes along the river being in a turmoil and at heart hostile; he—as he thought—got on friendly terms with several of the villages, and employed the men about his new Station. He found that the site selected for his new post was subject to inundation, and so decided to shift it some miles inland from the river on to higher ground; accordingly, he proceeded daily with his detachment to clear the land and erect new buildings, the men accompanying him always including Dumai and marching under arms. Green forbade the villagers who worked and assisted at the Station to carry spears, clubs, or arms of any description. About a week after he had begun his new Station, Dumai came to him and said that the local natives complained that though Green expected them to show trust in him by working without arms, he did not reciprocate, as the police were always fully armed; and that, therefore, the natives were distrustful of him. Green replied that it was the order of the Government that the police should carry arms at all times, even in the Government villages; whereupon Dumai said that the confidence and trust of the Mambare people would never be gained unless they too were trusted. Green refused to allow them to carry arms on his station, but told Dumai that, as a proof of good faith, he and the detail of police accompanying him would work unarmed among the village people at the new Station site.

On the morning following this conversation Green fell-in his detachment, under his principal non-commissioned officer, Corporal Sedu, and told them that they were to accompany him to work at the new Station unarmed, and then ordered them to pile arms. Corporal Sedu protested, stating that the orders were that they—as police—were always to carry arms. Green then repeated his order, “pile arms”; about two-thirds of the men obeyed; Corporal Sedu and a few older constabulary, however, retained their rifles. Green then gave the order to march, after which he said to the men, “I see I have some brave men and some cowards; the cowards carry their arms.” Corporal Sedu halted and said, “If you say that, sir, look at this,” and flung his rifle into a bush, an example followed by the rest of the armed men. “Ah, Sedu,” said Green, “I thought I could trust you.” The whole party then proceeded to the new Station site, where some dispersed with Sedu to seek timber trees in the forest, whilst others remained to work upon the houses with Green. Suddenly upon Green and his unarmed men there fell a body of spear- and club-men, who made short work of them. Sedu, hearing what was taking place, summoned his men and marched them up to share the fate of their officer, even though he and the unarmed privates with him could easily have escaped. So fell one of New Guinea’s best officers, and a fine detachment of police.

Dumai deserted to his own people, and instructed them how—under the leadership of their chief, Bushimai—to fall upon the white miners, who had already settled on the river. These miners, however (in spite of the boasted courage of the white man, a courage I have had drummed into my ears during many weary years), upon news reaching them of the death of Green and his men, broke and fled without waiting for attack; five of them were accounted for as being butchered on the way to the coast, but probably others were killed, and Heaven alone knows how many of their native employés also. The few armed native police at Tamata who had been left in charge of the old Station, finding themselves apparently isolated and abandoned by all men, without even a non-com. in charge, marched for the coast, picking up and saving on the way several native carriers. The evidence of these fine men was the only coherent evidence I got at the inquiry. Had but one of that panic-stricken lot of miners had the pluck to rally his mates, go to the Station, and take charge of the remainder of the police, all of them might have been saved; as it was, they fled like curs, and afterwards howled for a bloody vengeance against the Mambare people.