It is right to say that Captain Cook was no party to his subordinate's impetuous action, for violence was foreign to his methods. Says one of his biographers—"It was impossible for any one to excel Captain Cook in kindness of disposition, as is evident from the whole tenor of his behaviour, both to his own men and to the many savage tribes with whom he had occasion to interfere."
So convinced was Captain Cook of the advantage this beautiful country must some day prove to Britain, that he took nominal possession of the islands in the name of King George the Third. Yet it was not until 1787, eight years after the death of Cook, that New Zealand was included by royal commission within the British dominions, while another quarter of a century elapsed before Europe, at the Peace of 1814, recognised Great Britain's claim.
How good a use Captain Cook made of the six months he spent in New Zealand before he sailed to gather fresh laurels in Australia, any one may read for himself in the story of his voyages. On each occasion he introduced useful plants and animals into the islands, and it was due to him that the animal food which the Maori had always lacked, became so readily procurable in the shape of pigs, which soon after their introduction ran wild and multiplied. The sweet potato was there already; but it is to Cook that New Zealand owes the ordinary potato, the turnip, cabbage, and other vegetables and fruit.
Te Tanewha described Captain Cook as a reserved man who "constantly walked apart, swinging his right arm from side to side." This has been held to mean that, whenever Captain Cook landed, he scattered the seeds of useful plants, in the hope that they would grow and fructify.
There were further misunderstandings when Cook revisited the Islands in 1779, the worst of them being wholly due to the wicked action of an English sailor who first robbed and then shot a Maori. With the slaughter of the natives which followed Cook had nothing to do; more, the great navigator, who was as true and generous a gentleman as ever stepped, completely absolved the Maori from blame.
This was happily the last difficulty; for Cook arrived at a better understanding with the Maori and a clearer conception of the fine character which underlay their faults. The natives, too, showed an ever-increasing confidence in their famous visitor, whom they affectionately styled "Cookie." Notwithstanding their regard, they never allowed him to penetrate far inland.
Had Cook not been the just and temperate man he was, he might have pierced the interior with an armed force, composed of his own men and aborigines, and depopulated the land.
During the period of Captain Cook's visits the Maori were constantly at war, and the unwillingness of the coast tribes to allow him to proceed inland was probably due to their fear that he would aid the chiefs there, return, and exterminate them. So they first obstructed the progress of the explorer, and then made certain grim, but exceedingly practical, proposals to him.
These in effect were that Captain Cook should join forces with this tribe or that, proceed inland, and duly exterminate—everybody. This excellent scheme, properly carried through, would have left certain of the coast tribes supreme until civil strife began again to divide them. But what if Cook had turned upon them in their turn?
Fortunately this was not Captain Cook's way; but that he recognised what was at the bottom of all these requests for help is clear from his own words:—