In 1861, Patteson was consecrated first Bishop of Melanesia. Lady Martin describes the consecration: “It was altogether a wonderful scene: the three consecrating Bishops, all such noble-looking men, the goodly company of clergy and Hohua’s fine intelligent brown face among them, and the long line of island boys and of native teachers and their wives were living testimonies of mission work.” To Selwyn, Patteson was like a son, and in the sermon preached at his consecration he said, as he gazed on one so dearly loved: “May Christ be with you when you go forth in His name and for His sake to those poor and needy people.” The consecration marked the final achievement of independence by the New Zealand Church. So far no bishop had been appointed in the Church overseas except under letters patent or under mandate from the Crown. If this necessity for constant reference to government authority in England had continued, the progress of the Church would have been subject to needless limitations. Selwyn, always marked by wisdom and caution as well as by his zeal for the development of the independent Church, after much anxious consideration, suggested to the Colonial Secretary that the difficulty about the appointment of a bishop would be got over if the New Zealand bishops were allowed to exercise the powers inherent in their office, as bishops of a distinct province of the Church, without any mandate from the Crown. This was allowed, and henceforth the Church overseas was free to develop on its own lines, without interference from the Colonial Office and its legal advisers. Thus after nineteen years of work, the Bishop who had been given the sole charge of New Zealand, and who had started the mission to Melanesia, saw himself surrounded by five brother bishops, with the missionary obligation of the Church to the Pacific islands fully recognized, and entrusted to a man whom he loved as a son, and who was specially gifted for this work.
CHAPTER IX
THE MAORI WARS
Bishop Selwyn had helped to make peace at Taranaki (New Plymouth) in 1855, but discontent continued to smoulder both amongst the Maoris and the Colonists. The English continued to be eager to acquire more land and not scrupulous enough as to the means used to acquire it. Disputes about title deeds and the right to certain bits of land were frequent. The Maoris were suspicious of the constant encroachments of the British power. They felt that by degrees their country was passing from them into foreign hands. They had no representation in the Parliament which had been set up in New Zealand by the Constitution of 1853, and practically no share in the general government of the country. Colonel Browne, the Governor, was obliged to report to the Colonial Office in England the unsatisfactory state of affairs. The difficulties were increased because the respective powers of the Governor and his executive were not clearly defined, and by the want of sympathy with the natives shown by the colonists. Maori chiefs were often treated with indignities when they went to Auckland. Bishop Selwyn said that “he was quite ashamed to travel with his native deacons, men who dine at his own table and behave there like gentlemen, because he cannot take them into public rooms where a tipsy carter would be considered perfectly good society.”
After the first trouble at Taranaki had been settled for the time, Bishop Selwyn uttered the solemn warning which he was so soon to see justified that “while nothing is more easy than to extinguish the native title, nothing will be found more difficult than to extinguish a native war.” Slowly the country was drifting towards war. In the Waikato country, the Maori chiefs held a conference in 1857, at which both Selwyn and the Wesleyan missionaries were present, and the chiefs chose a king for themselves. No rebellion was meant, for they put up the flag of their chosen king and the Union Jack side by side on the same staff, and the Governor did not think it necessary to take this king movement seriously. In Taranaki, the chiefs had also formed a land league and refused to sell land to the whites. This was very irritating to the settlers along the coast, who saw land, of which they were in great need, lying idle. When one chief of his own accord sold some land to the whites, the chief of the Maori land league refused to allow the sale. The Governor, however, maintained that the sale was legal, and sent troops to the spot to support the rights of the purchasers. This was the beginning of long and disastrous war. At first the Maoris gained some advantage over the troops and the settlers were much alarmed. It was feared that the war would spread to the Waikato, and the general anxiety increased when the irritation of the natives was inflamed by the discovery of a Maori, lying killed by a gunshot wound in the forest thirty miles south of Auckland.
A body of armed Maoris gathered to avenge his death on the settlers, who fled in terror from their homes. Selwyn at once hastened to the spot to make peace. He rode twenty-four miles through the night, and then walked through the wood wading in mud up to his knees to the place where the fighting party were expected to land in their canoes. He wrote to his son:
“We could see at once by the open and bright expression of their countenances, that they did not mean mischief. The afternoon was spent as usual in much talk upon the subject and ended with evening service in a large house, filled with about two hundred men, with their arms piled around the central pillars.... We were glad to find that they were inclined to go back quietly.”
Afterwards he visited and pacified other natives in the district, and encouraged the settlers to return to their homes, promising to remain with them till the danger was past. One of them wrote afterwards:
“And so he did, guarding us with jealous care, never seeming to sleep soundly, for upon any unusual noise in the night, he was up and out in a moment. On the Sunday he conducted in our little schoolroom divine service, and preached a sermon never to be forgotten—inspiring trust and confidence in God.”
Selwyn’s plea which he submitted in a formal memorandum to the Governor, was that the rights of the New Zealanders as British subjects should be considered identical with those of the English, that the rights of the Maoris to the soil where the title deeds had not been extinguished should be recognised; that all native customs in connexion with proprietary right should be respected, that disputes should be submitted to a competent tribunal, and that for the moment there should be an armistice. But he was not listened to, and the settlers denounced his conduct as political interference. They said that “no right to interfere between Her Majesty’s Government and her native subjects could be allowed to any minister of religion.” In his reply to these criticisms he said (1861) “as the earliest settlers in this country—as agents employed by Government in native affairs—as intimately acquainted with the language, customs and feelings of the native race—and above all as ministers of religion having the highest possible interest at stake—we assert the privilege which the Crown allows to every man of laying our petitions before the Crown and the Legislature.”
In this difficult moment Sir George Grey was asked to return as Governor to the Colony which he had administered so wisely and where he was respected by all. For a moment there was peace, but as the soldiers were still in the land there was no sense of confidence or security. The Bishop went on with his efforts for peace, and his consequent unpopularity with the colonists continued to grow. He attended a great assembly of the natives in the Waikato, and from there went on to the English settlement at Taranaki where he was met on the beach by a mob who shouted: “Three groans for Bishop Selwyn,” and followed him with groans till he turned round and faced them saying: “Now it is more English-like to look me in the face and tell me your grievances.” This they did with much frankness, interspersed with rude outcries. They accused him of grasping lands for the Church, of loving power, of reviving all the old abuses of England. From this he went on to discuss matters with the natives, who for the most part received him with much friendliness, though at one place they said that no minister should go through their land. But he slipped off in the dusk to the next village and when he came back, the old chief apologised and said: “Now let us how d’ye do, and henceforth all ministers may come and go as aforetime. You are the great billow that has crushed the canoe; you are the great fish that has broken through the net.” Alone and unarmed he went through all this disaffected district. He knew the people well and sometimes by a joke, sometimes by a serious word, sometimes by a parable could turn aside their anger and win them to listen to him.