New Zealand Colonised
Kororarika. All this fighting of the Maori tribes made them more
dependent on the trade they had with white men. They could neither make
guns nor powder for themselves, and the tribe that could purchase none
of the white man's weapons was sure to be slaughtered and eaten by other
tribes. Hence white men were more eagerly welcomed, and in course of
time nearly two hundred of them were living Maori fashion with the
trib
s. But it was at the Bay of Islands that the chief trading was
carried on. For it was there that the kauri timber grew; it was there
that the pigs were most plentiful and the cargoes of flax most easily
obtained; and when a man named Turner set up a grog-shop on the shores
of the bay all the whaling ships made this their usual place for resting
and refitting. Behind the beach the hills rise steeply, and on these
hills a number of white men built themselves homes securely fenced, and
defended, sometimes even by a cannon or two. But down on the little
green flat next to the beach, rude houses were more numerous. In the
year 1838 there were about 500 persons resident in the little town,
which was now called Kororarika, but at times there were nearly double
that number of people resident in it for months together. A wild and
reckless place it was, for sailors reckoned themselves there to be
beyond the reach of English law.
At one time as many as thirty-six ships lay off the town of Kororarika,
and in a single year 150 ships visited the bay; generally staying a
month or more at anchor. The little church and the Catholic mission
station up on the hill did less good to the natives than these rough
sailors did harm, and at length the more respectable white men could
stand the disorder no longer. They formed an association to maintain
decency. They seized, tried, fined or sometimes locked up for a time the
worst offenders, and twice they stripped the ruffians naked, gave them a
coat of tar, stuck them all over with white down from a native plant,
and when they were thus decorated, expelled them from the town, with a
promise of the same treatment if ever they were seen back in it.
Hokianga. Long before this the capacities of New Zealand and the
chances of making wealth there became well known in England, and in 1825
an association was formed to colonise the country. It sent out an agent,
who reported that Hokianga, a deep estuary on the west coast, just
opposite to Kororarika, and only thirty miles away from it, was a
charming place for a settlement. The agent bought a square mile of land
from the Maoris and also two little islands in the harbour. The company
fitted out a ship the Rosanna, and sixty colonists sailed out in her
to form the pioneers of the new colony. They landed, and liked the look
of the place, but they were timid by reason of the tales they had heard
of Maori ferocity. Now at this time the Ngapuhis were at war with the
Arawas, and the latter were getting up a war dance, which the settlers
were just in time to see. Five or six hundred men stood in four long
rows, stamping in time to a chant of their leader. It was night, a fire
lit up their quivering limbs and their rolling eyes; they joined in a
chorus, and when they came to particular words they hissed like a
thousand serpents; they went through the performance of killing their
enemies, cutting up their bodies and eating them. The settlers fell into
deep meditation and departed. Not half a dozen remained in New Zealand,
the others went to Sydney, and so after an expense of L20,000 this
association, which had been formed for the kindly purpose of putting
people in lands less crowded than their own, failed and was disbanded.
Settled Government. Between 1825 and 1835 the Maoris of the North
Island were in a miserable state. Wars and massacres and cannibal feasts
made the country wretched, and though the missionaries were respected
they could not secure peace. But they persuaded the chiefs of some of
the weaker tribes to appeal to England for protection against the
conquering warriors who oppressed and destroyed their people. It was in
1831 that this petition was sent to King William, and about the same
time the white men at Kororarika, terrified at the violence with which
the Waikato men were ravaging the surrounding lands, asked the Governor
at Sydney to interfere. The result was that although the English would
not regularly take possession of New Zealand, they chose Mr. Busby, a
gentleman well known in New South Wales, to be the Resident there, his
business being, so far as possible, to keep order. How he was to keep
order without men or force to make his commands obeyed it is hard to
see; but he was expected to do whatever could be done by persuasion, and
to send for a British war-ship if ever he thought it was needed.
The first war-ship that thus came over did more harm than good. Its
visit was caused by a disastrous wreck. The whaling barque Harriet,
under the command of a man named Guard, a low fellow who had formerly
been a convict, was trading among the islands when she was wrecked off
the coast of Taranaki. The Maoris attacked the stranded ship, but the
crew stayed on her and fired into the assailants, and it was not till
after quite a siege, in which twelve seamen were killed, that the rest
fled from the wreck, leaving Mrs. Guard and her two children in the
hands of the Taranaki tribe. Guard and twelve seamen, however, though
they escaped for a time were caught by a neighbouring tribe, to whom he
promised a cask of gunpowder if they would help him to reach an English
ship. This they did, and Guard reached Sydney, where he begged Sir
Richard Bourke to send a vessel for the rescue of his wife and children.
Bourke sent the Alligator, with a company of soldiers, who landed and
demanded the captive seamen. These were given up, but the captain of the
ship supported Guard in breaking his promise and refusing to give the
powder, under the plea that it was a bad thing for natives. The
Alligator then went round to Taranaki for the woman and children. The
chief of the tribe came down to the beach and said they would be given
up for a ransom. The white men seized him, dragged him into their boat
to be a hostage, but he jumped out of the boat and was speared with
bayonets. He was taken to the ship nearly dead. Then the natives gave up
the woman and one child in return for their chief. After some parley a
native came down to the beach with the other child on his shoulders. He
said he would give it up if a proper ransom was paid. The English said
they would give no ransom, and when the man turned to go away again,
they shot him through the back, quite dead. The child was recovered,
but Mrs. Guard and the children testified that this native had been a
good friend to them when in captivity. Nevertheless, his head was cut
off and tumbled about on the beach. The Alligator then bombarded the
native pah, destroyed all its houses to the number of 200, with all the
provisions they contained, killing from twenty to thirty men in the
process. This scarcely agreed with the letter which Mr. Busby had just
received, in which he was directed to express to the Maori chiefs the
regret which the King of England felt at the injuries committed by white
men against Maoris.
Captain Hobson. But there were many difficulties in securing justice
between fickle savages and white men who were in general so ruffianly as
those who then dwelt in New Zealand. The atrocities of the Harriet
episode did some good, however, for along with other circumstances they
stirred up the English Government to make some inquiries into the manner
in which Englishmen treated the natives of uncivilised countries. These
inquiries showed much injustice and sometimes wanton cruelty, and when a
petition came from the respectable people of Kororarika, asking that
some check should be put upon the licence of the low white men who
frequented that port, the English Government resolved to annex New
Zealand if the Maoris were willing to be received into the British
Empire. For that purpose they chose Captain Hobson, a worthy and upright
sea-captain, who in his ship of war, the Rattlesnake, had seen much of
Australia and New Zealand. It was he who had taken Sir Richard Bourke to
Port Phillip in 1837, and Hobson's Bay was named in his honour. After
that he had been sent by Bourke to the Bay of Islands to inquire into
the condition of things there, and when he had gone home to England he
had given evidence as to the disorder which prevailed in New Zealand. He
was sent in a war-ship, the Druid, with instructions to keep the white
men in order, and to ask the natives if they would like to become
subjects of Queen Victoria and live under her protection. If they agreed
to do so, he was to form New Zealand into an English colony and he was
to be its Lieutenant-Governor under the general control of the Governor
of New South Wales.
Hobson reached Sydney at the end of 1839 and conferred with Governor
Gipps, who helped him to draw up proclamations and regulations for the
work to be done. On leaving Sydney, Hobson took with him a treasurer and
a collector of customs for the new colony, a sergeant of police and four
mounted troopers of the New South Wales force, together with a police
magistrate to try offenders, and two clerks to assist in the work of
government. It was the 29th of January, 1840, when he landed at the Bay
of Islands. Next day, on the beach, he read several proclamations, one
of which asserted that all British subjects, even though resident in New
Zealand, were still bound to obey British laws; and another declared
that as white men were tricking the Maoris into selling vast tracts of
land for goods of little value, all such bargains made after that date
would be illegal, while all made before that date would be inquired into
before being allowed. It was declared that if the Maoris in future
wished to sell their land the Governor would buy it and pay a fair price
for it. All white men who wished for land could then buy from the
Governor. Three days later the respectable white men of Kororarika
waited on Captain Hobson to congratulate him on his arrival and to
promise him their obedience and assistance.
Treaty of Waitangi. Meantime Hobson had asked the missionaries to
send word round to all the neighbouring chiefs that he would like to see
them, and on the 5th of February, 1840, a famous meeting took place on
the shore of the Bay of Islands near the mouth of the pretty river
Waitangi. There on a little platform on a chair of state sat the new
Governor, with the officers of the ship in their uniform, and a guard of
mariners and sailors; while beside the platform stood the leading white
men of Kororarika. Flags fluttered all round the spot. At noon, when
Hobson took his seat, there were over five hundred Maoris, of whom fifty
were chiefs, in front of the platform. Then one of the missionaries rose
and in the Maori tongue explained what the Queen of England proposed.
First, that the Maoris, of their own accord, should allow their country
to be joined to the British Empire. Second, that the Queen would protect
them in their right to their land and all their property, and see that
no white men interfered with them in it, but that if they chose to sell
any of their land, then the Governor would buy it from them. Third,
that the Queen would extend to the Maoris, if they so desired, all the
rights and privileges of British subjects and the protection of British
law.
When these proposals had been fully explained the Maoris were asked to
say what they thought of them. Twenty-six chiefs spoke in favour of
accepting, and so bringing about peace and order in the land. Six spoke
against them, declaring that thus would the Maoris be made slaves. The
natives seemed very undecided, when Waka Nene arose and in an eloquent
address showed the miseries of the land now that fire-arms had been
introduced, and begged his countrymen to place themselves under the rule
of a queen who was able and willing to make the country quiet and happy.
The Maoris were greatly excited, and Hobson therefore gave them a day to
think over the matter. There was much discussion all night long among
the neighbouring pahs and villages; but the next day when the Maoris
gathered, forty-six chiefs put their marks to the parchment now always
known as the treaty of Waitangi.
This treaty was taken by missionaries and officers from tribe to tribe,
and in the course of two or three months over five hundred chiefs had
signed it. On the 21st May, Hobson proclaimed that the islands of New
Zealand were duly added to the British Empire, and that he would assume
the rule of the new colony as Lieutenant-Governor. Meantime houses
had been built at Kororarika for the Governor and his officers; a
custom-house had been set up, and taxes were levied on all goods landed,
so as to provide a revenue with which to pay these and other Government
expenses.
Auckland. But the people at Kororarika had bought from the natives
all the level land in the place, and thinking their town would soon be a
great city, and the capital of an important colony, they would not sell
it except at very high prices. Now Captain Hobson had seen at the head
of the Hauraki Gulf a place which seemed to him to be more suitable for
the capital of the future colony. To this lovely spot he changed his
residence. He bought from the natives about thirty thousand acres, and
on an arm of the gulf, where the Waitemata harbour spreads its shining
waters, he caused a town to be surveyed and streets to be laid out. In
April, 1841, after he had reserved sufficient land for Government
offices, parks and other public purposes, he caused the rest to be
offered in allotments for sale by auction. There was a general belief
that now, when the islands were formally annexed to the British Empire,
New Zealand would be a most prosperous colony, and that land in its
capital would go up rapidly in value. Many speculators came over from
Sydney. The bidding was brisk, and the allotments were sold at the rate
of about six hundred pounds per acre. A few months later a sale was held
of lands in the suburbs and of farming lands a little way out from the
town. This was again successful. Houses began to spring up, most of them
slender in structure, but with a few of solid appearance. Next year
ships arrived from England with 560 immigrants, who rapidly settled on
the land, and before long a thriving colony was formed. The little town
was very pretty, with green hills behind the branching harbour that lay
in front, dotted with volcanic islets. The whole district was green; and
the figures of Maoris in the grassy streets, their canoes bringing in
vegetables to market, their pahs seen far off on the neighbouring hills,
gave the scene a charming touch of the romantic. A company of six
soldiers with four officers came from Sydney to defend the settlers, and
barracks were built for them. The name chosen for the city was Auckland,
after a gentleman named Eden, who had taken for half a century a deep
interest in colonising experiments, and who had been raised to the
peerage with the title of Lord Auckland.
New Zealand Company. Meantime another part of New Zealand had been
colonised under very different circumstances. The English association,
which in 1825 attempted to form a settlement at Hokianga and failed, had
consisted of very influential men. They had not given up their plans
altogether, and in 1837 they formed a new association called the New
Zealand Company. That restless theorist Edward Gibbon Wakefield, who had
already sent out the settlers who had just founded Adelaide, joined this
association, and impressed the members with his own idea already
described on page 67. It was arranged that a colony should be sent out
to New Zealand on the plan of a complete little community. There were
to be gentlemen and clergymen and teachers; so many farmers, so many
carpenters, so many blacksmiths; every trade was to be represented so
that everybody would have something to do, and there would be none too
many of any one kind. A bill was brought before Parliament for the
purpose of establishing a colony after this fashion, and at first
Parliament was inclined to favour the bill. But the missionaries in New
Zealand were hostile to the proposal. They were steadily converting the
Maoris to Christianity. They hoped to turn them into quiet, industrious
and prosperous people, if white men did not come and take away their
land from them. Parliament, therefore, refused to pass the bill. But the
company had gone too far to retreat. It had already arranged with many
settlers to take them and their families out to New Zealand, and had
begun to sell land at so much an acre, nobody knew where except that it
was to be in New Zealand. They therefore quietly purchased and fitted
out a vessel named the Tory to go to New Zealand and make
arrangements. The party was under the charge of Colonel Wakefield,
brother of Edward Gibbon Wakefield; and he took with him surveyors to
lay out the land, farming experts to judge of the soil, and a scientific
man to report on the natural products. This vessel sailed away quietly
in May, 1839, hoping to reach New Zealand unnoticed. The English
Government heard of it however, informed the company that its action was
illegal, and immediately afterwards sent off Captain Hobson in the
Druid, as has been already described, to take possession on behalf of
the British nation. The New Zealand Company then apologised; said that
they would direct their agents who had gone out to New Zealand to obey
the Governor in all things, and promised that the new settlement should
abide by the law.
Wellington. Meantime the Tory was ploughing the deep on her way to
New Zealand. Her passengers first saw the new country on the west coast
of the South Island. They were then very much disappointed, for the
shore was high and wild, the mountains were close behind it, and their
lofty sides were gloomy and savage. The whole scene was grand, but did
not promise much land that would be suitable for farming. They turned
into Cook Strait, and anchored in Queen Charlotte Sound, a lovely
harbour, but surrounded by high hills clothed in dark and heavy forests.
When they landed, they were amazed at the depth and richness of the
black soil and the immense size to which the trees grew. Such a soil
could grow all sorts of produce in rich abundance, but it would cost
forty pounds an acre to clear it for ploughing. Boats were got out,
however, and parties rowed up into all the branches of the beautiful
harbour, but without seeing any sufficient extent of level or open land.
Then they crossed the strait, and sailing in by a narrow entrance,
viewed all the wide expanse of Port Nicholson. It was a great harbour
with a little wooded island in its middle; it opened out into quiet arms
all fringed with shelly beaches, and behind these rose range after range
of majestic mountains. The trouble was that here too the land which was
fairly level was too limited in extent to satisfy the colony's needs;
for already in England the company had sold 100,000 acres of farming
land, and the purchasers would soon be on their way to occupy it. After
examining the shores with care they chose the beach of the east side as
the site for their town. Behind it stretched the beautiful valley of the
Hutt River, enclosed by mountains, but with broad grassy meadows lying
between. Here they started to build a town which they called Britannia,
and they made friends with the Maoris of the district. A Pakeha Maori
named Barrett acted as interpreter. The natives went on board the
Tory, were shown 239 muskets, 300 blankets, 160 tomahawks and axes,
276 shirts, together with a quantity of looking-glasses, scissors,
razors, jackets, pots, and scores of other things, with eighty-one kegs
of gunpowder, two casks of cartridges and more than a ton of tobacco.
They were asked if they would sell all the land that could be seen from
the ship in return for these things. They agreed, signed some papers and
took the goods on shore, where they at once began to use the muskets in
a grand fight among themselves for the division of the property. It was
soon discovered that the site of the town was too much exposed to
westerly gales, and the majority of the settlers crossed Port Nicholson
to a narrow strip of grassy land between a pretty beach and some steep
hills. Here was founded the town called Wellington, after the famous
duke.
By this time the settlers were arriving thick and fast. The first came
in the Aurora, which reached the settlement on 22nd January, 1840;
other ships came at short intervals, till there were twelve at anchor in
Port Nicholson. The settlers were pleased with the country; they landed
in good spirits and set to work to make themselves houses. All was
activity--surveyors, carpenters, bricklayers, blacksmiths, every one
busy, and rapidly a smart little town of some hundred houses rose behind
the beach. The Maoris came and helped in the work, getting three or four
shillings a day for their services, and proving themselves very handy in
many ways. All were in sanguine spirits, when word came from Governor
Hobson at Auckland that, in accordance with his proclamation, all
purchases of land from the natives were illegal, he having come to
protect the Maoris from imposition.
The Land Question. Now Colonel Wakefield had fancied that he had
bought 20,000,000 acres for less than L9,000 worth of goods, and he was
assigning it as fast as he could to people who had paid L1 an acre to
the company in England. Here was a sad fix. The Governor sent down his
chief officer, Mr. Shortland, who rode across the island with the
mounted police, and told the settlers not to fancy the land theirs, as
he would ere long have to turn them off. Disputes arose, for it seemed
absurd that fifty-eight Maori chiefs should sell the land on which many
thousands of people dwelt, the majority of these people never having so
much as heard of the bargain. The settlers talked of starting for South
America and forming a colony in Chili, but more kept on coming, so that
they had not ships enough to take them across. And, besides, they had
paid a pound an acre to the company and demanded their land. Colonel
Wakefield went off to Auckland to talk the matter over with Governor
Hobson, who left the difficulty to be settled by his superior, Governor
Gipps, at Sydney.
Wakefield then went to Sydney to see Governor Gipps, who said that the
whole thing was irregular, but that he would allow the settlers to
occupy the land, supposing that every Maori who had a proper claim to
any part of it got due compensation, and if twenty acres of the central
part of Wellington were reserved for public buildings. These conditions
Wakefield agreed to, and, very glad to have got out of a serious
difficulty, he returned with the good tidings. Shortly afterwards
Governor Hobson himself visited Wellington, but was very coldly received
by the settlers there.
In the next two years 350 ships arrived at Wellington, bringing out over
4,000 settlers. Of these about 1,000 went up into the valleys and made
farms; but 3,000 stayed in and around Wellington, which then grew to be
a substantial little town, with four good piers, about 200 houses of
wood or brick and about 250 houses of more slender construction. More
than 200 Maoris could be seen in its streets clad in the European
clothes given as payment for the land. In all there were about 700
Maoris in the district, and for their use the company set apart 11,000
acres of farm lands, and 110 acres in the town. Roads were being made
into the fertile valleys, where eight or ten thousand acres were
occupied as farms and being rapidly cleared and tilled. Parties were
organised to go exploring across the mountains. They brought back word
that inland the soil was splendid, sometimes covered with forests,
sometimes with meadows of long grass or New Zealand flax, but always
watered by beautiful rivers and under a lovely climate. The Maoris were
everywhere friendly throughout their journey.
Taranaki. In the beginning of the year 1840, an emigration society
had been formed in the south-west of England to enable the farm
labourers and miners of Cornwall, Devon, and Dorset to settle in less
crowded lands. The Earl of Devon was its president, and Plymouth its
headquarters. They chose New Zealand for the site of their colony, and
understanding that the New Zealand Company had bought half of the North
Island they gave that company L10,000 for the right to select 60,000
acres of it. It was in March, 1841, that the pioneers of this new colony
arrived at Wellington under the guidance of Mr. Carrington, a surveyor
in the ship William Bryant. The exploring party had just come back,
and its report of the Taranaki land was very tempting. Immediately after
receiving that report Colonel Wakefield had gone off to purchase it. He
found a few natives left there, the remnant of the tribes whom Te Whero
Whero had either destroyed or carried into slavery. These few people had
taken refuge up in the awful solitudes of the giant Mount Egmont, but
had come back to dwell, a sorrow-stricken handful, in the homes of their
fathers. Barrett was left to arrange a bargain with them, and in return
for a quantity of goods they sold all the land along sixty miles of
coast with a depth of fifteen miles inland. This was the land which
Wakefield recommended for the new settlers, and he lent them a ship to
take them round. There they landed, and in spite of their disappointment
at the want of a safe harbour, they set to work and built up their
little town, which they called New Plymouth.
In September of the same year the main body of settlers arrived for this
new colony, and were landed at Taranaki, when they immediately scattered
out over the country, as fast as Carrington could survey it for them.
But there was now a difficulty. For Te Whero Whero and his tribe had
released many hundreds of the Taranaki natives who had been carried off
as slaves. Whether it was because they had now become Christians or
because the slaves were more in number than they could use, it was not
easy to determine; but at any rate, in that very month of September when
hundreds of white men were arriving to occupy the land, hundreds of
Maoris were coming back to re-occupy it. They begged the settlers not to
fell their big trees, but were very mild in their conduct. They chose
places not yet claimed by the white men, and there fenced in the land on
which to grow their sweet potatoes.
Meanwhile there was another complication. By Maori custom a warrior had
the ownership of the lands he conquered. Governor Hobson therefore
regarded Te Whero Whero as the owner of the Taranaki land, and gave him
L400 for his right to it. Hobson declared that the Auckland Government
was the owner of this land, and that all settlers must buy it from him.
Eventually the trouble was cleared up for the time being, when Hobson
allowed the company to keep ten miles of coast running back five or six
miles, the rest to belong to the Government, which would set aside a
certain part for the use of the Maoris. In December, 1842, a settler
claimed a piece of land which a Maori had fenced in; he pulled down the
fence; the Maoris put it up again. The settler assisted by an officer
pulled it down once more. A young chief who brandished a tomahawk and
threatened mischief was arrested, and carried into New Plymouth where a
magistrate liberated him, and declared the action of the settler
illegal. Matters for a time kept in this unfriendly state, ominously
hinting the desperate war that was to follow.
Wanganui. Meanwhile the settlers in the Wellington district were
finding that by crossing difficult mountains they could get sufficient
level land for their purpose, and at the close of 1840 two hundred of
them sailed 150 miles north to where the river Wanganui falls into Cook
Strait. The land was rich and the district beautiful. Colonel Wakefield
supposed that he had bought the whole of it, though the natives
afterwards proved that they sold only a part on the north side of the
river. Here, about four miles from the mouth of the stream, the settlers
formed a little town which they called Petre, but which is now known as
Wanganui. The natives were numerous; on the river banks their villages
were frequent, and up on the hills, that rose all around like an
amphitheatre, the palisades of their fortified pahs were easily visible.
But the fine black soil of the district, in places grassy, in places
with patches of fine timber, proved very attractive to the settlers, and
soon there came half a dozen ships with more colonists direct from
England. The natives were friendly to white men, and gave them a cordial
welcome. Down the river came their canoes laden with pigs, potatoes,
melons, and gourds for sale in the market of the little town. All was
good-will until the Maoris found that the white men had come not merely
to settle among them, but to appropriate all the best of the land. Then
their tempers grew sour and the prospect steadily grew more unpleasant.
Nelson. The emigration spirit was at this time strong in England;
for it was in the year 1840 to 1841 that free settlers chiefly colonised
both Victoria and South Australia. New Zealand was as much a favourite
as any, and when the New Zealand Company proposed in 1841 to form a new
colony somewhere in that country to be called Nelson, nearly 100,000
acres were sold at thirty shillings an acre to men who did not know even
in which island of New Zealand the land was to be situated. In April of
the same year the pioneers of the new settlement started in the ships
Whitby and Will Watch, with about eighty settlers, their wives,
families and servants. Captain Arthur Wakefield was the leader, and he
took the ships to Wellington, where they waited while he went out to
search for a suitable site. He chose a place at the head of Tasman Bay,
where, in a green hollow fringed by a beautiful beach and embosomed deep
in majestic hills, the settlers soon gathered in the pretty little town
of Nelson. The soil was black earth resting on great boulders; out of it
grew low bushes easily cleared away, and here and there stood a few
clumps of trees to give a grateful shade. The place was shut in by the
hills so as to be completely sheltered from the boisterous gales of Cook
Strait, and altogether it was a place of dreamy loveliness. Its
possession was claimed by Rauparaha, the warrior, on the ground of
conquest. With him and other chiefs the settlers had a conference, the
result of which was that a certain specified area round the head of the
bay was purchased. But the white men regarded themselves as having the
right of superior beings to go where they wished and do with the land
what they wished. Finding a seam of good coal at a place outside their
purchase they did not in any way scruple to send a vessel to carry it
off, in spite of the protests of the Maoris.
Death of Governor Hobson. These things hinted at troubles which
were to come, but in 1842 all things looked promising for the colonies
of New Zealand. There were altogether about 12,000 white persons, most
of them being men who wore blue shirts and lived on pork and potatoes.
Auckland the capital had 3,000 but, Wellington was the largest town with
4,000 people. Next to that came Nelson with 2,500; New Plymouth and
Wanganui were much smaller but yet thriving places. They had no less
than nine newspapers, most of them little primitive sheets, but
wonderful in communities so young. In October, 1841, Dr. George Selwyn
was appointed to be Bishop of New Zealand; and he left England with a
number of clergymen who settled in Auckland, Wellington, Nelson, and New
Plymouth. Churches began to spring up, and schools not only for white
children, but also for Maoris. An immense change for the better had
appeared among the Maoris. The last case of cannibalism took place about
this time; and though they still fought among one another, it was not
with the same awful bloodshed that had characterised the previous twenty
years.
On the 16th November, 1840, the Queen declared New Zealand an
independent colony. Hobson was then no longer Lieutenant-Governor
merely, and subject to the Governor at Sydney. He was Governor Hobson,
and of equal rank with all the other Governors. He now had a
Legislative Council to assist him in making for New Zealand such laws as
might be needed in her peculiar circumstances. In that council the Chief
Justice, the Colonial Secretary, the Surveyor-General, the
Attorney-General and the Protector of the Maoris had seats. But Hobson
did not long enjoy his new dignity. He had had a difficult task to
perform, and his duty had led him into conflict with many people who
wished to purchase their land from the natives at ridiculous prices. In
the midst of his worries he had several strokes of paralysis, of which
the last killed him in September, 1842; and he was buried in the
cemetery at Auckland. He had lived, however, to see New Zealand
colonised, and had died much liked by the Maoris, without seeing any of
that bitter struggle between the two races which was soon to shed so
much blood and waste so much treasure.