Revised Jun 1 2021
A NEW chapter now opens in the history of this island. About the year 1832—33 it was favored with a new arrival, in the person of Joshua Hill. He was a man of excellent education, but stern in his nature, and a tyrannically strict disciplinarian. He reached the island by way of Tahiti, to which he had come from Honolulu. In England he had heard the curious story of the little island in mid ocean and how it was peopled, and he left home for the purpose of coming amongst the islanders as their pastor and teacher, considering his age no obstacle, although he was about seventy years old. But he was forestalled by Nobbs.
It only fair to acknowledge that at the time of his coming the condition of affairs on the island did not witness favorably to the management of those who were the acknowledged leaders. Like the Israelites in the times of the judges, "every man did what was right in his own eyes," for, since the patriarchal rule of John Adams, no one had supplied, as he did, the place he held so long in the confidence, as well as the affection, of the people.
It excites a feeling of surprise that, in all the old man's endeavors at reformation, he had allowed the old still, used by McCoy and Quintall, to continue its unholy, debasing work. But so it was; and at the time of Hill's arrival, it was in constant operation, several of the men being addicted to the vice; nor were Nobbs and Buffett averse to "a wee drap on the sly." Neither, since the removal to Tahiti, did all the people retain the beautiful, strict morality that had been their crowning virtue, as was proved in two cases; so that, altogether, the island stood in need of a general and thorough reformation.
Hill professed to have been sent out by the English Government, which assertion, if not entirely false, was at least doubtful. He utterly ignored the presence of the other Englishmen, and succeeded only too well in influencing the islanders against them. But there was one exception. Charles Christian, a son of Fletcher Christian, whose many noble qualities endeared him to all, ever remained the staunch, unchanging friend of the persecuted Nobbs, Buffett, and Evans; and when, by Hill's order, Buffett was publicly flogged, this true friend, hearing of the unjust and cruel treatment, hastened to the rescue, and, by his unflinching bravery and manly courage, succeeded in delivering the unhappy man from his hard-hearted and wicked tormentors. But this extreme measure was carried into effect after Hill's rule had been fairly established.
Under his strict discipline everything worked fairly well at the start. But his too zealous eagerness to accomplish a reform led him to do what prudence and calm reason should have prevented. The following instance may serve as an example: Two women had set afloat some report concerning Hill, which, reaching his ears, he strongly resented. Immediate steps were taken to punish the offenders. A meeting was convened, consisting of the. irate leader, his elders, sub-elders, and cadets, to pass judgment on the women. In the course of the meeting, they knelt for a few minutes while Hill prayed. Among the various petitions he uttered, occurred this sentence: "If these women die the common death of all men, the Lord hath not sent me." The prayer ended, but there was no response. Not one present, with the exception of Hill himself; would pronounce the "amen." Nor was it to be expected that they would thus denounce the women who were nearly related to some of them. But refusal to take part in the prayer enraged their leader still more, and, while he stood revealed before his followers in his true character, overzealous, revengeful and tyrannical, the spell with which his influence had bound them was broken, and the hold he had obtained on the minds of some of them was forever lost.
Wrangling, quarreling, and abusive language were constantly kept up between the parties. Hill and his party, who were the stronger, caused the lives of the three other Englishmen to be daily embittered with hard treatment. Buffett in particular was forced to undergo severe punishment on account of a wrong done five or six years before Hill came. When Hill was informed of the matter, he considered it his duty to administer such penalty as would prove a wholesome lesson to Buffett in future. Nor would Nobbs have escaped were it not that at the time he was sick in bed, and Hill's cruelty did not quite reach to the extent of flogging a sick man. Nobbs, who was poetical, wrote a lively epigram on Hill, in the closing lines of which he mentioned the erection of the gallows—
"With a Hill to enliven the scene."
This at once met a retort, and thus the spirit of animosity was kept alive and never suffered to die.
The ill treatment to which the three Englishmen were constantly subjected at last reached a climax by their being forced to leave the island. Separated from their families, they were carried away on a schooner, the captain of which condemned Hill's doings unsparingly, while to the exiled men he showed the utmost kindness. They were taken to Tahiti, but did not remain there long, as an opportunity was soon afforded them of returning to the home of their adoption. Arriving there, they took their families with them and left, Nobbs and Evans going as far as the Gambier Islands, while Buffett went on to Tahiti.
When the cruel banishment had been effected, the men who before had yielded unquestioning obedience to Hill's orders, began to awake to the fact that they had been participating in a wholesale course of injustice and oppression. Their true friends had received ill usage at their hands, even unto banishment, while they had submitted to be ruled by a tyrant. Shame and remorse for the part they had taken, filled their minds, and they only waited the opportunity to have the exiles recalled.
It soon came. The captain of a schooner, the Olivia, making a call at the island at the time, was told all the facts of the case, and he very generously promised to go to the Gambier Islands and remove the two families of Nobbs and Evans to their home. This was accordingly done, and once more all were again on Pitcairn Island, as Buffett and his family had arrived from Tahiti a short time before on the Olive Branch. While these last seemed to have gained in health during their sojourn at Tahiti, the two families who stayed at the Gambier Islands were extremely emaciated, owing to the poor food on which they were obliged to subsist. Their relatives and friends greeted them on their home coming with open arms, while expressions of affection and tears of joy, that spoke more than words, told how glad they were that all of them were permitted to meet again.
On the return of the exiled men, they found the island in an unsettled state. Divisions were rife among the people. Hill no longer exercised undisputed sway over their minds and actions. His power, once so great, was now quite broken. At this time there occurred a quarrel between Hill and one of his former elders, which narrowly escaped proving a very serious affair. The trouble arose in this way: A young daughter of the ex-elder, had been charged with stealing some yams, and was proved guilty. The father was summoned before Hill, to hear what his daughter sentence would be. Hill declared that the offender ought to be executed, or, at least, be made to suffer very severely for her fault. The father strongly opposed such harsh measures, and positively asserted that his daughter should not be subjected to the will of the merciless man. Aroused to fury by this opposition to his will which the father steadily maintained, Hill rushed into his bedroom, and, grasping his sword, returned, and, waving it threateningly at his opponent, cried out, "Confess your sins, for you are a dead man." This he repeated with, if possible, increased fury, while his threatened victim, as he afterward declared, felt that his last hour had indeed come. A table stood between them, and young Quintall, although intimidated by the murderous fire that gleamed in Hill's eye, as well as by the sword that he was brandishing, quickly cleared the table at a bound, and, before Hill could divine his intention, laid a firm grip on the shoulders of his enemy, and by main force threw him upon the floor. Unable to do anything else but maintain his hold on his fallen foe, he was powerless to prevent the thrusts of Hill's sword. Fortunately, they resulted in a few slight scratches only, which were sufficiently deep however, to leave lifelong scars on the breast of the intended victim. How long the struggle would have lasted had the combatants been left alone, it is not possible to say. A young man happened to pass by the house and, catching a glimpse of what was passing within, took in the whole situation at once. Running as quickly as he could to his house, he soon returned armed with a musket, and called out that he was going to shoot Hill. Others, hearing the shout, came running together to learn what the cause of the disturbance was. Arriving at the scene of the quarrel, their first act was to dispossess Hill of his sword. He was then allowed to rise and retire peaceably to his room. Nothing further was done to him, but he did not receive his sword back again until the day when, friendless and unloved, he left the island forever.
Letters of complaint from the persecuted Buffett, Evans, and Nobbs had, in the meantime, been sent on to Valparaiso, asking redress from those who might and could render help and deliverance from Hill's power. In answer to their earnest appeal, the Actaeon was sent to the island in 1836. She was commanded by Lord Edward Russell. His lordship, shortly after arriving, called a meeting, over which he himself presided. Permission was given to all concerned to speak their minds freely, a privilege of which each one readily availed himself. A warm and lively debate ensued, and while Hill was speaking in his own defense, one unruly member of the meeting would every now and again interrupt him with, "It's a lie, my lord," addressed to Lord Russell.
The proceedings of the court provoked much laughter, and all was greatly enjoyed by his lordship. One circumstance especially called forth peals of laughter. Hill was relating a story about a book that belonged to Hannah Young. Opposite to the motto "Dieu et mon droit," on the title-page, were written the following lines:—
"God and my right we often see
Emblazoned abroad;
Let them who read this motto be
With Jesus, right with God."
Beneath this Nobbs had placed his signature, "G. H. Nobbs, P. S. M." Hill had taken the liberty to add as a postscript this quotation from Holy Writ: "Alas;, master! for it was borrowed." On Lord Russel1's asking an explanation of the three initial letters subjoined to the name of Nobbs, Hill readily replied that Nobbs intended them to mean "Pastor and Spiritual Master," but, in his estimation, the correct rendering should be, "Public Miscreant and Scoundrel." These lively thrusts were given by each party until his lordship declared that the whole proceeding was too good finish at one sitting, and the meeting adjourned to the following day.
On the second day his lordship's decision was that Hill should be removed from the island as soon as possible, and the following year the Imogen arrived to carry that decision into effect. The first words spoken by her captain, when the boat from shore went off to the ship, were: "Is Joshua Hill still on the island? I am sent on purpose to remove him." The next day, at an early hour, Hill, with his few possessions, was on board the Imogen, where cold looks awaited him. Friendless and alone in the midst of strangers, the old man stood on the deck of the vessel that was to bear him away. With all his faults, aggravated as they were, it is impossible not to feel a deep sympathy in his hour of adversity for the poor old man, who, through a mistaken, perverted zeal, had rendered himself obnoxious to those whom he undoubtedly, and with all honesty of purpose, wished to benefit. Thus passed out of the history of Pitcairn Island Joshua Hill, whose memory is still freshly retained by those who knew him, rather as being associated with harshness, severity, and tyranny, than like that of the just, whose memory "smells sweet and in the dust."