By the end of March, 1831, they reached Tahiti. Although Queen Pomáre had set apart a certain tract of land for them to settle in, and manifested the warmest interest, and though the usually frivolous but hospitable and kindly Tahitians
received the new arrivals in the most cordial manner, the pure minds of the latter were so disgusted and revolted with what they saw at Papeete, that the very day after they disembarked, they loudly declared that under no circumstances would they remain there, and therefore claimed to be taken back to Pitcairn's Island. When it was found that all representations failed to induce them to make any stay at Tahiti, a few Protestant missionaries got up, in conjunction with some English residents, a fund of some £400, with which they chartered a schooner, for the purpose of restoring the Pitcairn Islanders to their rocky paradise in the solitudes of the Pacific, for which they felt such an irresistible homesickness. In August of the same year the return voyage took place. During their short stay at Tahiti, fourteen had died of sheer grief and anguish of mind, like plants that had been transplanted into a foreign soil. Although only six months absent in all from Pitcairn Island, there was not one single family but had to regret the loss of some beloved member!
Despite their bitter experience hitherto, the old terror of over-population again arose in the bosoms of the Pitcairners, after a series of prosperous and peaceful years, and a wish began to be frequently expressed that at least a portion of the inhabitants could be drafted off to some other island. In order to comprehend and do justice to this feeling, one must place oneself in the position of a resident on an extremely small solitary island in the ocean, which is often
for years cut off from any communication with the outer world, and every corner of which has already been cultivated to the utmost: would it not be a pardonable anxiety, which in view of such circumstances should fill with gloomy forebodings the heart of every prudent head of a family, and make him hesitate between love for his native soil, and the desire to preserve independence and comfort to his family?
A second attempt at acquiring a settlement beyond their own confined limits was not more fortunate than the first. The Government of England, with the meritorious care for the interest of even the poorest of her subjects in the most remote regions of the globe, which is one of her noblest characteristics, once more dispatched a ship of war to Pitcairn, with orders to transport the inhabitants to Norfolk Island between New Zealand and New California, of the marvellous climate, vegetation, and fertility of which the most glowing accounts were in circulation. A few plants which had been conveyed thence by English navigators to Europe had excited universal astonishment—such exquisite forms of vegetation, it was thought, could only form part of some landscape of marvellous beauty and richness. And one must, in fact, have seen the Araucaria excelsa, the well-known Norfolk Island pine, in order rightly to understand these raptures. Such an island, it was thought, with an equable climate, fertile, and of adequate extent, must be the very thing for the idyllic life of such a people as the Pitcairn Islanders. Adams' descendants and their kinsmen accordingly suffered themselves
to be persuaded into trying this change, the more so that their own island was beginning, as had long been foreseen, to prove too small for them, and the possibility of a deficiency of food began to assume an appalling air of probability.
In May, 1856, the British Government expended £5000 in sending another ship from Sydney to Pitcairn, to carry out the wishes of the inhabitants and their advocates in England, by transporting the entire community to Norfolk Island. There were in all 193 souls, viz. 40 men, 47 women, 54 boys and 52 girls, who now said farewell to the land of their birth. But on this occasion also the elder seemed to feel an anticipation of their speedy return, and before they embarked they took every possible precaution to ensure their finding their dwellings in the same order in which they were leaving them. They placed written bills on the doors of their houses, in which they requested all visitors to abstain from injuring their property, as they were only leaving the island for an indefinite visit, and would very speedily return to their old quarters. They killed all the pigs and dogs upon the island, lest the first should violate the sanctity of the grave, and the latter injure their flocks and herds.
By the ensuing harvest-time they were installed in their new home. Provided for the first time by the English Government with the requisite means of subsistence, as well as agricultural implements, &c., they seemed to feel themselves quite at home, and their friends and well-wishers in England
began to indulge hopes that they had at last found at Norfolk Island the long-wished-for asylum, and as energetic and industrious landowners would at once benefit themselves and develope the resources of the island. These pleasing anticipations were the more natural, as for a number of years nothing more was heard of the "Pitcairn Islanders," except that everything was going on prosperously and quietly in the new colony.
While the Novara was lying at Sydney, in November and December, 1858, intelligence was received respecting these colonists, in whom, on account of their singular history, the deepest interest was felt there as elsewhere. In the (then) Governor-general's (Sir W. Denison's) residence we saw a photographic group of the islanders, male and female, whose pleasing expression involuntarily excited profound sympathy for the persons thus represented. Since their arrival in Norfolk Island there had been no more definite news concerning them.