Captain Cook: His Life, Voyages, and Discoveries

by William Henry Giles Kingston

The Endeavour sailed from Oheteroa on August 15, 1769. The 25th was the first anniversary of the day she had quitted the shores of England. To celebrate it a Cheshire cheese was cut, and a cask of porter broached, and both were found excellent. Those who have been long at sea and away from home can best understand the importance attached to such trifles, and the pleasure they afford.

On the morning of the 30th a comet was seen in the east, a little above the horizon. Tupia, who observed it with others, instantly cried out that as soon as the people of Bolabola perceived it they would attack the inhabitants of Uhetea, who would have to fly to the mountains to save their lives. Meeting with a heavy sea and strong gales from the westward, on September 1 Captain Cook wore and stood to the northward. On the weather moderating he continued his course to the westward during the whole of September. Several seals were seen asleep on the surface of the water, and various birds were perceived, a sure indication that the ship was approaching land. On October 6 land was seen from the mast-head, bearing west by north. In the evening it could be seen from the deck. It was not till the evening of the next day that the voyagers got near enough to observe the nature of the country, when it appeared of great extent, with four or five ranges of hills rising one over the other, and beyond them a lofty chain of mountains. The general opinion was that they had found the Terra Australia incognita. A bay was seen, and smoke rising from the shore, but night coming on, they were obliged to stand off till daylight. The next day, on standing in again, some small but neat houses were seen, and a considerable number of people seated on the beach. Farther on was discovered a tolerably high and regular paling, enclosing the whole of the top of a hill. Some on board supposed it to be a park for deer, others an enclosure for oxen or sheep. In the afternoon the ship came to an anchor in a bay off the mouth of a river. The sides of the bay were white cliffs of great height; the middle was low land, with hills rising behind and terminating in a chain of lofty mountains.

Captain Cook, with Mr Banks, Dr Solander, and a party of men in the yawl and pinnace, landed on the east side of the river; but some people being perceived on the west side, the yawl crossed over, and while the gentlemen landed, four boys were left in charge of her. On the approach of the Englishmen the natives ran away, and the former advanced towards some huts two or three hundred yards from the water’s edge. When, however, they had got some distance from the yawl, four men with long lances rushed out of the woods towards her, and would have cut her off had not the people in the pinnace covered them, and called to the boys to drop down the stream. This they did, but the natives pursued in spite of two musket-shots fired at them. At length, one of the natives was poising his spear to dart it at the boys, when the coxswain of the pinnace fired a third time, and shot the native dead. The other three at first attempted to drag off the dead body, but fear soon made them drop it and take to flight.

On the captain and his companions returning to the boat they stopped to examine the body, which had been shot through the heart. It was that of a man of middle stature, of a brown, but not very dark complexion. One side of his face was tattooed in spiral lines of regular figure, and his hair tied in a knot on the top of his head, but no feathers in it. He wore a garment of a fine cloth, of a manufacture new to the English. When the voyagers returned on board, they could hear the natives talking very loudly. The next day the captain and the same party landed with Tupia, and the marines were afterwards sent for. A large body of natives had collected on the opposite side of the river, apparently unarmed; but on the approach of the English they started up, each man holding a spear or dart, and made signs to the strangers to depart. The marines being drawn up, the visitors again approached the natives, when Tupia addressed them in the language of Otaheite, which they perfectly understood. He told them that their visitors wanted provisions and water, and would pay them with iron, the properties of which he explained as well as he could. They replied that they were willing to trade if the English would cross over to them. Captain Cook consented to do this, provided they would put aside their arms. This they would not consent to do. Tupia warned the English, during the conversation, that the natives were not friendly. Captain Cook then invited the natives to come across to them. At last, one of them stripped himself and swam over without his arms. He was soon after followed by others, to the number of twenty, most of whom came armed; and though iron and beads were offered them, they set no value apparently on either, for a few feathers were offered in return, and they at once showed their hostile disposition by endeavouring to snatch the weapons from the hands of their visitors. They were told, through Tupia, that if they continued to proceed in that manner they would be killed; notwithstanding this, one of them seized Mr Green’s hanger from his side, and ran off with it. Mr Banks on this fired at him with small shot; but though hit, he still continued to wave the hanger round his head. Mr Monkhouse, seeing this, fired at him with ball, when he instantly dropped. Upon this, the main body, who had retired to a rock in the middle of the river, began to return. Two that were near the man who had been killed tried to drag off the body. One seized his weapon of green talc; and the other tried to secure the hanger, which Mr Monkhouse had but just time to prevent. As the whole body were now returning with threatening gestures, those who had their guns loaded with small shot fired. The effect was to make the natives turn back, and to retreat up the country, several of them being wounded. Such was the first unhappy attempt of the English to open up an intercourse with the inhabitants of New Zealand, for that was the magnificent country Captain Cook and his companions had now reached. Painful as it is to reflect on the sacrifice of human life which often in those days attended the first intercourse of civilised Europeans with the savage inhabitants of newly-discovered countries, and the cruelties and injuries inflicted, we must not judge our countrymen too harshly. Much less value was set on human life a century ago than is the case at present, and dark-skinned savages were scarcely regarded as beings of the same nature as white men. Captain Cook was, however, undoubtedly a kind and humane man, and was sincere in his expressions of regret at the blood his followers so frequently shed whenever they met with opposition from the natives of the lands they visited.

Having no longer any hope of establishing a friendly intercourse with the inhabitants of this place, and finding that the water in the river was salt, Captain Cook proceeded with the boats round the head of the bay, in search of fresh water, intending also, if possible, to surprise some of the natives, and, by kind treatment and presents, to obtain their friendship. Everywhere, however, a dangerous surf beat on the coast, and he was unable to land. But seeing two canoes coming in towards the shore, one under sail, and the other moved by paddles, he judged it necessary for the object he had in view to intercept them. Supposing that they were fishermen without arms, he hoped to do this without bloodshed. Notwithstanding the way in which he had placed the boats, one of the canoes managed to escape; but the other, under sail, came directly into the middle of the English boats without perceiving what they were. On discovering the strangers, the natives lowered their sail and took to their paddles. Tupia called out to them that those in the boats wished to be friends; but the natives preferred trusting to their paddles, and continued their flight. On this, a musket was fired over their heads, when they ceased paddling and began to strip, not to swim to the shore but to fight to the last.

When the boat came up they attacked the English with paddles, stones, and other weapons, and showed a determination not to be taken alive. The English, in their own defence, fired, when four out of the seven people in the canoe were killed. The other three were lads—the eldest of whom, about nineteen years old, leaped into the sea, swimming vigorously, and resisting every effort made to capture him. At last he was seized and taken into the boat, as were the two younger lads, without further attempt to escape. As soon as they were in the boat, the lads squatted down, evidently expecting instant death. Every effort was made to win their confidence, and with so much success that by the time the ship was reached they appeared not only reconciled to their fate, but in high spirits. On food being offered them, they ate it voraciously, and asked and answered questions with every appearance of pleasure. At night, however, they sighed, and seemed to be mourning for the friends they had lost; but, encouraged by Tupia, they quickly regained their cheerfulness, and in the morning ate another enormous meal. On being told that they would be put on shore where the English had landed the previous day, they expressed great alarm, and said that the inhabitants were their enemies and would eat them. At last, on landing on the other side of the bay, after hesitating for some time, the lads cried out that they saw, among a large body of natives who were approaching, one of their relations. Still they seemed doubtful about joining them, and evidently regretted leaving their new friends. The body of the native who had been killed the previous day still lay on the shore. The boys, seeing it, went and covered it with some of the clothes they had received on board the Endeavour. Soon after, a man, who proved to be the uncle of one of the boys, swam over with a green bough in his hand, which was here, as at Otaheite, an emblem of peace. Tupia received the branch, and several presents were made to the native. Notwithstanding this, he refused to go on board the strange ship. Breaking off another bough, he then approached the dead body, before which he performed numerous ceremonies. When this was done he returned to his companions, and held with them a long consultation. The boys refused to go back to their countrymen, and begged again to be taken on board. The natives, after this, were observed from the ship to cross the river, and to carry off the dead body on a kind of bier.

Later in the day, the captain directed Tupia to ask the boys if they had any longer a fear of landing, the body having been carried off, which was supposed to be a ratification of peace. They replied that they were perfectly ready to go, and stepped with alacrity into the boat which was prepared to carry them on shore.

On the boat reaching the shore they landed willingly, but soon after, when she put off, waded back into the water, and entreated to be taken on board. As the midshipman in charge of the boat had received strict orders not to receive them, their request was not granted. After a time a man came and took them across the river, on a raft, to where a large number of people were assembled. They appeared to be well received, and shortly after were seen standing on the beach, when they waved their hands three times and stepped nimbly back to their companions.

Captain Cook gave the name of Poverty Bay to the place where these events occurred; and in his journal he strongly expresses his regret at the destruction of the four unfortunate fishermen, saying that, had he supposed they would have resisted, he would not have attempted to stop them; but that, as it was, he could not allow his people to be knocked on the head by the savages. It may be asked, why were the savages not permitted to escape? The reply of Captain Cook is, that he considered it his duty, in prosecution of his enterprise, to open a communication with the natives by force if he could not succeed by gentle means. In pursuance of that object, and in accordance with this supposed duty, our countrymen had little scruple in shedding the blood and taking the lives of their fellow-men, even when violence was not necessary for their own safety.

The next morning the Endeavour sailed from Poverty Bay, but, being becalmed, several canoes came off to her. The natives in one canoe setting the example, the rest were easily persuaded to come on board, to the number of fifty men. Only two weapons were seen among them; these were made of green talc, and called patoo-patoo, being shaped somewhat like a pointed battledore, with a short handle and sharp edges. They were well contrived for close fighting, and would certainly split the thickest skull at a single blow. The sad truth of this some of our countrymen were afterwards to experience, when not far from this spot the greater part of a ship’s company were destroyed, each savage producing one of these weapons from under his cloak, and singling out a victim for instant destruction. Presents were made by the officers of the Endeavour to the natives, who were all so eager for the white men’s goods that they afterwards exchanged everything they had with them, even to the paddles of their canoes. Inquiries were made for the poor boys, and the captain was assured that no harm had happened to them, and that it was in consequence of the account they had given of their reception on board that the present party had come off to the ship.