Revised 5/20/2009
Mention has been made of the kind offices of B. Toup Nicolas, Esq., British Consul at Raiatea, towards the community, whom he visited in the year 1853.
Mr. Nicolas having forwarded an extract from his diary to the author, it is here presented to the reader as one of the most agreeable and animated of the sketches of life in Pitcairn.
At daylight, on the morning of Monday, the 24th of January, 1853, Pitcairn's Island was in sight from the mast-head of H.M. S. Virago, apparently about 45 miles off. As it peeped above the horizon, it recalled the top of St. Paul's Cathedral.
We reached the anchorage in Bounty Bay at half-past two, under steam; and, being the first steamer which had ever visited the island, we made up our minds to astonish the natives, with the unusual display of a ship going through the water at the rate of some six knots an hour in a dead calm. But they knew the dread monster at once to be a steamer, and, although much delighted, were not equally surprised at her performances. A boat came off with Mr. Holman, the chaplain of the Portland, who had been left to fill the place of Mr. Nobbs, during the time the latter should be in England, where he had gone for the purpose of being ordained. They supposed that we had brought Mr. Nobbs back; and his wife and daughter were also in the boat to welcome him. They, of course, were disappointed; but, glad as the Islanders would undoubtedly have been to receive Mr. Nobbs, they would, 1 believe, have been little less sorry to lose Mr. Holman. We landed (the Virago saluting me with seven guns) without much trouble, in Captain Prevost's whale-boat, steered by one of the natives, and experienced a hearty and truly English welcome; all of them shaking us warmly by the hand, and telling us how truly glad they were to see us; professions which their after-kindness fully confirmed.
From the landing-place we scaled a kind of zigzag goat path for about two hundred yards, which brought us to the "market-place." But instead of buildings, benches, butchers' shops, and all that constitutes an English market-place, one must fancy a floor of shrubs, and a roof of cocoa-nut trees; a small space of a few yards being cleared away: and on this the different families bring their stock for sale, when any merchant-vessels call at the island for provisions. Here were assembled all those who were either too old or too young to reach the landing-place, and who renewed the expressions of good-will made to us by their relations below. We then walked towards their village, or rather the succession of detached houses, each on its own little terrace, embowered in orange and cocoa-nut trees; and, as it was nearly tea-time, we were billeted, generally two in a house. My friend Hassan, the Turkish lieutenant, and myself, were quartered on John Adams, with whom Mr. Holman lives. In the evening, it being a beautiful moonlight night, we all met in front of the house where the organ is kept. The Islanders then sang several hymns and touching melodies, one of which, from its simple pathos, and from the exquisite manner in which it was sung, to the tune of "Long, long ago," I believe I shall never forget.
Shed not a tear o'er your friend's early bier,
When I am gone, when I am gone;
Nor, if the slow-tolling bell you should hear,
When I am gone, when I am gone.
Weep not for me when you stand round my grave,
Think Who has died, His beloved to save;
Think of the crown all the ransom'd shall have,
When I am gone, when I am gone.
Plant ye a tree, which may wave over me,
When I am gone, when I am gone.
Sing ye a song, if my grave you should see,
When I am gone, when I am gone.
Come at the close of a bright summer's day
Come when the sun sheds his last ling'ring ray;
Come, and rejoice that I thus pass'd away,
When I am gone, when I am gone.
Plant ye a rose that may bloom o'er my bed,
When I am gone, when I am gone;
Breathe not a sigh for the bless'd early dead,
When I am gone, when I am gone.
Praise ye the Lord, that I'm free from all care,
Love ye the Lord, that my bliss ye may share;
Look ye on high, and believe I am there,
When I am gone, when I am gone.
The voices of the Islanders are both powerful and sweet; and the thrill of rare and unexpected pleasure I experienced on hearing them sing the above song, was never surpassed, not even when listening to Jenny Lind. This may seem going too far; and so may many other of the statements I make in speaking of the Pitcairn Islanders. I came prepared to do them justice, it is true; but no more, for I could not help believing that there must be some exaggeration in the florid accounts given by voyagers who had touched at their island. I came, therefore, with a mind disposed to test and to criticise; and I leave them with the feeling that few, if any, of their qualities would not stand the severest test; and that their conduct generally, that is, on all main points, may triumphantly challenge the severest criticism. This is my deliberate opinion, after having been domesticated among them for a week, and with every opportunity given me for arriving at a just conclusion; going in and out of the houses at any hour I chose, and asking any questions I thought proper; seeing them, too, in their joy, and afterwards in their affliction.
Captain Prevost having offered to take all the inhabitants round the island in the Virago, under steam, on the following day (Tuesday), the offer was joyfully accepted; and at about ten o'clock the next morning our own boats and their whale-boat brought successive cargoes of men, women, and children on board, until only six people were left on the island. We then got under weigh, and slowly steamed from point to point, and in about an hour again anchored in Bounty Bay, where, after having had some cake and wine, the Islanders were safely landed. The engine-room afforded conslant interest to those who were not sea-sick; but, unfortunately, most of the women and children were very much so. We landed in the afternoon; and in the evening the Islanders again sang the songs we were never tired of hearing; and we amused them by dancing among ourselves, and playing at leap-frog, blind-man's buff, &c., at which they laughed heartily.
The next day, Wednesday, having planted the roses, fig-trees, &c., we felt it was time to hasten on our way, and accordingly wished our friends good-bye, except the few who accompanied us on board, intending to return in their whale-boat.
At about half-past one the capstan was manned, and we were about to get under weigh, when our attention was arrested by the firing of the Bounty's gun, in farewell salute.
Scarcely had the sound died away, when it was succeeded by what we at first took to be cheers; but which, alas ! proved to be shrieks from the women and children along the cliffs. A boat was instantly manned and sent on shore with the two surgeons.
By the help of the glass, we could see the women carrying two forms along the cliffs towards the houses, by which we feared that some fatal accident had occurred.
In a short time a canoe came from the shore, with the melancholy tidings, that in loading the gun, the chief magistrate, Matthew M'Coy, and two others, Driver Christian, and William Evans, were seriously, if not fatally injured.
On reaching the village, we found that poor M'Coy, who had suffered the most severely, had had his arm amputated above the elbow, it having been perfectly shattered. The arm was going on well, but the surgeons gave very little nope, owing to the shock the system had received; his breathing was very difficult; and, altogether, we could not help feeling that his hours were numbered. Poor M'Coy! He had pleaded very hard that they would not take off his arm; as, without it, he said he should be of very little use to his wife and his eight children. They told him it was his only chance of life, when he submitted to the amputation with unflinching nerve. It was a necessary, but, as the issue proved, a useless infliction; he remained in the same state, hovering between life and death, until about two o'clock the next morning, when he died.
The two others were severely wounded and burnt, but not dangerously; and every hope is entertained of their recovery.
Thursday.—This dreadful accident has overwhelmed the little community with grief; there is nothing but weeping; they are truly one family, bound together in heart as they are by the ties of relationship.
At sunset we, that is, the officers and petty officers of the Virago, and the Islanders, assembled outside the house where the body of poor M'Coy lay. His widow had begged to be allowed to take a last look of what was her husband; the surgeons feared what the effect might be, as she was near her confinement; but she pleaded so piteously, that, at last, they had not the heart to refuse. She accordingly came, accompanied by her children; and touching, indeed, was the scene that followed. She seemed calmer and more resigned after having seen her poor husband; and when I wished her good-bye, on leaving yesterday morning, she appeared better able to bear the affliction with which the Almighty had thought fit to visit her.
All in the Virago gave her their best sympathy, and made a subscription for herself and the poor children, amounting to nearly thirty pounds, which will, we hope, in a slight degree, tend to lighten her burden.
Few scenes have made a stronger impression upon my mind than the funeral of poor M'Coy, deeply impressive from the earnestness of those engaged in the ceremony, and from the absence of that form and luxury with which civilisation too often loves to bury its dead.
The grave was dug in a little garden consecrated by the ashes of the father and the brother of Matthew M'Coy, beside whose remains his own were about to be laid.
The Burial Service was impressively read by the Rev. W. Holman, after which a hymn was sung or attempted to be sung for the accents of the poor Islanders were stifled by sobs; and amidst these sobs the body was lowered into the grave.
It was a beautiful sunset; the tall, plume-like cocoa-nut- trees waved gently above our heads. Borne upwards from the sea, mournfully, but not discordantly, came the sound of the breakers as they burst against the shore; while from orange and from lime, and from a thousand fragrant herbs, delicious scents filled the air.
Quietly and thoughtfully we retired from the spot, and gradually found our way off to the ship, to prevent giving the poor afflicted Islanders more trouble than we could help.
Friday.—Christian and Evans going on well.
Went with Captain Prevost; and, with the concurrent wish of the Islanders, spiked the Bounty's gun, to prevent a recurrence of the late dreadful accident, which seems to have been caused by using a rammer made from the rafter of a house, these rafters having a nail at each end. The gun was so honeycombed, that it could not be fired without danger of its bursting.
Saturday.—Christian and Evans progressing as favourably as could be expected. Made every preparation for leaving, when it came on to blow, and the Virago stood off to sea.
Finding there was no chance of getting away to-day, I accompanied the rear-guard of goat-hunters to the mountains, armed with a clumsy-looking, but, I believe, true German rifle, lent me by George Adams, whose maker, boasting a name of some seven syllables, could little have anticipated that his handiwork would call forth echoes from the picturesque crags of an island in the South Pacific.
Returned to the settlement, dead-beaten, with a very vivid recollection of the awfulness of the precipices, and of the wariness and activity of the goats.
Sunday.—This morning Captain Prevost, Ross, the assistant-surgeon, Nihill, a passenger, and myself, the only ones left on shore, went to church, and were much struck with the attention paid to the service by the Islanders; several hymns and psalms were sung in their usual correct and devout manner. They repeat the responses very slowly and distinctly; so much so, indeed, as to make it difficult for us to accompany them.
Captain Prevost partook of the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper, as did most of the adult Islanders. In the afternoon we again attended church.
Monday morning.—The weather having moderated, the Virago stood in, and sent a boat on shore; so we prepared for a final leave-taking, the two wounded men going on very well, and pronounced by the surgeons to be out of danger.
As soon as the Islanders found that we really must go, they set about collecting a quantity of ripe fruit, which they insisted upon our taking, although they distressed themselves by this generosity.
The old people accompanied us as far as the "Market-place," where we bade each other an affectionate adieu. To the beach we descended with the remainder of our friends; and I do not remember ever to have seen so much mingled kissing and crying.
The affectionate natures of the Islanders cause them soon to attach themselves to those who show them even a trifling kindness, and our visit had been attended with peculiar circumstances, unfortunately, but too well calculated to touch the susceptible feelings of this warm-hearted race. Poor M'Coy's death had called forth our sympathy; the strong tie of a mutual sorrow caused their tears to mingle with our farewell regrets.
The Pitcairn Islanders are undoubtedly a fine race; the figures of the men being, however, better than those of the women, which betray their Tahitian origin. The expression of the face in both sexes is generally good, often singularly noble and intellectual; their skin is dark, darker than I had expected, although exceptions occur, particularly in children, when it is sometimes nearly white; their eyes are large and lustrous, and their teeth beautiful.
The week spent at Pitcairn's Island will be looked upon by me as one of the most interesting of my life. A state of society is there beheld which cannot be believed unless seen.
In many points, particularly in the culture of their minds, a high state of civilisation presents itself, without vice or luxury, the community living in the most primitive simplicity. But the most remarkable feature in their character is that of earnest and universal piety. And from this fountain springs their brotherly love, so true, so touching, so unlike anything I had ever seen or dreamed of, as animating a whole community, that it can only be likened to the feeling that exists in a deeply religious and united private family in England.
So earnest is their piety, so directly does it appear to spring from Him who is the Divine Source of all religion, that I almost fancied myself in a Theocracy of the primitive ages.
If I am asked, Have they no faults? I answer, Yes, two, to show that they are children of Adam.
The first is, that the men seemed to allow the women to work harder than themselves. The second, that there is a want of energy apparent in all they do, always excepting religious matters.
In these I have summed up all I know to their disadvantage. How proud may England be, that it is to her this virtuous and most interesting community look as to their fatherland!
May HE who so marvellously raised such fruit from such seed still watch over and protect them! B. T. N.
In this friendly wish and prayer for the welfare of the community, the reader will heartily join