Amber (15 page)

At the completion of the meal, port was served, and again the Maoris present declined, except for Ropata, who sipped his luxuriously while studiously ignoring the missionaries’ frowns.

Rian moved his chair back from the table and surreptitiously let out his belt a notch. ‘That was an excellent meal, thank you very much,’ he declared.

‘
Oui, absolument magnifique!
’ Pierre agreed expansively, even though Kitty had noticed him poking at his beef and frowning.

There were murmurs of agreement from around the table, and the mission’s collective housegirls, who had had their Christmas dinner on the Purcells’ verandah, swooped in and began to clear the table. Rebecca got up to clean the faces of her two youngest children, and Eliza Henry gathered up her twins and disappeared inside with them, presumably, Kitty thought with a pang of envy, to feed them. They were darling little boys, with tufts of fluffy brown hair and bright blue eyes.

Marianne Williams folded her table napkin neatly and suggested, ‘Ladies, shall we adjourn to the parlour?’ When they were settled inside, leaving the men in the garden to sit back, pour themselves more port and light their pipes, she said, ‘That was a wonderful meal, ladies. Thank you.’ She opened her workbox and withdrew a piece of embroidery. ‘And it is lovely to have you back, Kitty. I trust you are adjusting to life as Mrs Rian Farrell?’

Kitty glanced at her, noting the twinkle in her eye. ‘Oh, definitely, Mrs Williams. I am finding that it suits me very well.’

‘You must have the most wonderful adventures, sailing about the high seas.’

‘Well, sometimes we have adventures, but usually our daily lives are quite routine.’

‘Just like any life, I expect,’ Mrs Williams noted.

‘Do you not get bored on that little schooner, Kitty?’ Rebecca asked.

Kitty thought about it. ‘Not really. I have my daily chores and my handiwork, and I read. And there is always something new on the horizon. And we’re not at sea all the time. Sometimes we’re in port.’

‘In England?’ Eliza Henry asked, trying to settle both babies on her lap at once. Apparently they didn’t want to settle and Samuel began to grizzle.

‘Occasionally,’ Kitty replied, ‘but more often than not somewhere else. We were in Sydney a few weeks ago, and before that Durban.’

‘That’s in Africa, isn’t it?’ Eliza gave up and set the babies on the floor, where they immediately crawled off in different directions.

‘South Africa, yes,’ Kitty said, scooping up Luke and sitting him on her knee.

Eliza nodded. ‘The CMS almost sent us there instead of here, but I’m glad they didn’t. I’m not at all sure I would have managed with those Zulus. Such ferocious people.’

Kitty eyed Eliza’s small frame, tiny hands and feet, and golden hair, and decided she probably had to agree.

‘We are all God’s children, Eliza,’ Mrs Williams remarked, squinting despite her spectacles as she threaded a needle.

Jannah Tait turned a sock inside-out and inspected the hole she was about to darn. ‘Mind you, things have been somewhat hectic here, too.’

‘Yes, it has been rather an anxious time,’ Eliza agreed, darting over to a plant stand to stop Samuel from pulling it over on himself. ‘Why aren’t these babies sleepy? They nearly
always sleep after they’ve been fed.’

‘You’ve heard about Hone Heke’s antics, Kitty, I presume?’ Jannah asked.

‘We’ve heard various versions of what’s been happening, yes,’ Kitty said.

Jannah selected a length of grey wool from her workbox. ‘Well, I feel he is behaving in a very belligerent and disruptive manner. It shows a marked lack of gratitude on his part, if you ask me. No good will come of it, I’m sure.’

‘From cutting down the flagstaff, do you mean?’ Kitty asked.

‘Actually, Heke himself did not actually cut down the flagstaff,’ Sarah said. ‘It was Te Haratua apparently, his second in command.’

‘So they say. It’s the same thing, though, isn’t it?’ Jannah insisted.

‘I think so, too,’ Charlotte Dow agreed, her head bent low over her embroidery. ‘A very alarming man, that John Heke. And arrogant.’

Mrs Williams snipped a piece of thread with her sewing scissors. ‘Perhaps we might remember that the flagstaff was given by Heke himself nine years ago, specifically to fly the ensign of the Confederation of the United Chiefs and Tribes. Also that it was moved from Waitangi to Maiki Hill across the bay without his permission. Therefore, given the economic restrictions the Crown has imposed upon the Maoris since the treaty, particularly here in Northland, one can imagine what effect the flying of the Union Jack from that very flagstaff day after day might have had on his sensibilities.’ She sighed. ‘But I fear that you are right, Jannah. No good will come of it.’

Rebecca added, ‘And he has alienated Tamati Waka Nene, so now there’s a fear that tribal warfare will resurface, on top of everything else.’

The women were silent for a long moment, concentrating on their work. Then, recalling something that Enya had mentioned while they’d been in Sydney, Kitty asked, ‘What happened at Wairau?’

Jannah and Rebecca exchanged an oh-dear-wasn’t-that-dreadful glance, and Rebecca said, ‘It was over disputed land, near Marlborough. It was originally Te Rauparaha’s land but the New Zealand Company believed they had purchased it, although in retrospect they clearly had not, and sent a party to survey it. Te Rauparaha opposed the survey, so thirty armed settlers—’

‘
Fifty
armed settlers,’ Jannah amended, her darning forgotten for the moment.

Charlotte also interrupted. ‘And it was straight after that terrible murder at Cloudy Bay.’

Jannah frowned. ‘No, it was six months after that.’

Kitty turned to Mrs Williams, who explained, ‘A Maori woman, Rangihaua Kuika, and her baby were murdered by a European whaler. He was tried under British law but went free. Most unfortunate.’

‘Anyway,’ Rebecca went on, ‘
fifty
armed settlers arrived to arrest Te Rauparaha—’

‘And chief Te Rangihaeata,’ Charlotte said, interrupting again.

Jannah stabbed her sock with a darning needle and said sharply, ‘Charlotte, please let Rebecca finish’, apparently forgetting that she had interrupted the story twice herself.

Rebecca sent her a grateful look. ‘Te Rauparaha resisted arrest, fatal shots were fired, and some of the arresting party were captured. But when it was discovered that one of those killed was Te Rongo, Te Rangihaeata’s wife and Te Rauparaha’s daughter, the twenty captured settlers were—’

‘Were
murdered
,’ Charlotte blurted. ‘Including Captain Wakefield himself, who was to be head of the new town!’

Jannah rolled her eyes.

‘And how many Maoris were murdered?’ Kitty asked quietly.

‘Oh, no, no
Maoris
were murdered,’ Charlotte exclaimed. ‘But six were killed in battle.’

‘So how is it that they were “killed in battle,” but the settlers were “murdered”?’ Kitty said.

Charlotte looked slightly confused for a moment. ‘Because the settlers were prisoners when they were killed. The Maoris weren’t. They were resisting arrest.’

Unable to restrain her anger any longer towards the silly, ignorant woman, who after all was supposed to be an advocate for the Maoris, and a Christian one at that, Kitty enquired icily, ‘But why wouldn’t they resist, if they were being arrested for trying to protect their own land?’ Charlotte opened her mouth to reply but Kitty kept on. ‘And hadn’t Te Rongo just been killed, and six months before that Rangihaua Kuika and her child, without justice being served to their murderer? Have you not heard of utu, Mrs Dow?’

‘Yes, of course, but—’ Charlotte began, but was spared from digging herself any deeper when Luke gave a resounding burp and regurgitated milk and puréed kumara all over Kitty’s sleeve.

‘Oh Lord!’ Eliza cried, mortified, as she hurried over to Kitty and hastily mopped at the splatter on her dress. ‘I’m terribly sorry.’

‘Don’t worry,’ Kitty replied, patting Luke on the back. ‘It’s only sick.’

‘You’ll need to sponge that or it will smell,’ Sarah said unhelpfully.

Eliza gathered up Luke and he gurgled cheerfully, clearly much happier.

Still dabbing half-heartedly at the stain with Eliza’s cloth,
and deciding it wasn’t worth arguing with Charlotte Dow, Kitty asked Mrs Williams, ‘So what happened after Hone Heke cut down the flagstaff?’

‘Oh, there was a huge fuss in the press and Bishop Selwyn organised a meeting at Waimate of local chiefs, at which Heke agreed to erect a new flagstaff to replace the one he’d cut down. I believe he handed over a small number of arms as well. But Governor FitzRoy had already requested military aid, and one morning a contingent of two-hundred-and-fifty imperial troops appeared across the bay.’

‘I hadn’t realised there were that many soldiers in New Zealand,’ Kitty said. There certainly hadn’t been when she’d left in 1840.

‘There weren’t,’ Rebecca explained. ‘These were seamen and marines from the warship HMS
Hazard
, and soldiers from Point Britomart in Auckland, and a hundred-and-fifty men sent over from the 96th Regiment stationed in Sydney.’

‘They’re not still here, are they?’ Kitty asked. ‘We didn’t see any military vessels when we put in.’

Rebecca said, ‘No, they returned to Auckland when Heke capitulated and matters seemed to be in hand.’

‘And since then Hone Heke has been going around stirring up anti-British sentiment?’

‘More or less,’ Mrs Williams replied. ‘Along with a few other rather prominent chiefs, which does not bode well, and some very hot-headed young men.’

‘Do you think trouble is on the way?’ Kitty said bluntly.

Mrs Williams looked at her over the top of her spectacles. ‘Unfortunately, Kitty, yes, I do.’

Chapter Six

I
t rained torrentially and almost solidly for the following two weeks, but it was a warm rain that turned clothes and bread alike mouldy overnight, prevented freshly laundered linen from drying properly, and sluiced mud and leaves across walking paths so that several people, braving the deluges, slipped and turned their ankles, and, in one case, broke a wrist. As a result, Mrs Williams was kept busy preparing poultices made from boiled flax root and the oil of pulped titoki berries, and handing out arnica pills. The rain also confined the mission’s children indoors, making them irritable and fidgety, a state compounded by the discovery that many of them were suffering an outbreak of threadworm. Subsequently everyone at the mission, including visitors, had to be treated with an aperient of castor oil and sal volatile, then administered three or four grains of santonin. Although the treatment was guaranteed to clear the bowel of any remaining eggs, most of the adults also became irritable after repeated trips to the privy.

The rain prevented Rian from scouting out possible sources of kauri to ship to Sydney, but Kitty had the distinct impression that he was in no hurry to leave Paihia. He was, of course, waiting to see what might happen with Hone Heke, as she had known he would since they’d first heard of the growing tension. But Sarah seemed glad to have them, and Kitty had to admit that it was very pleasant to spend time in the company of women she knew and cared for. Well, mostly cared for—Charlotte Dow
had continued to irritate her and that state of affairs showed no sign of abating.

Kitty had asked Rebecca whether Mrs Dow was normally so galling or was it perhaps just the mugginess and the never-ending rain? And Rebecca had smiled and replied that Charlotte was indeed a unique spirit, but that the teachings of the Society strongly favoured the practices of tolerance and acceptance of others. Or had Kitty forgotten that? No, Kitty said, she hadn’t, but Mrs Dow appeared to have done so, and that was a particularly distressing thing to see in a missionary. Rebecca had pointed out that Charlotte’s heart was in the right place, and asked if Kitty would mind checking whether baby Joshua’s nappy was wet, which meant that she didn’t wish to discuss Charlotte any more.

But by 8 January the sun was out again in all its stewing heat and turning the bush into a steaming wonderland. The children were instantly happy and consequently so were the adults, delighted to send little and not-so-little ones off with a picnic lunch for an adventure. They were farewelled, however, with the warning that were they to encounter any Maoris they did not recognise, or even a war party, they were to run home straight away. Heke and some of his followers had been in the area lately, and had in fact dined at Pukera the evening before last, and while the missionaries were confident that he wouldn’t attack mission children, or indeed the mission itself, they believed it would be prudent to keep their children out of his way.

On the following day, the temperature was high even at seven in the morning, and when Kitty awoke, her hair plastered to her neck with sweat, it was to discover that Rian wasn’t next to her. She rose, slipped into her cotton robe and padded down the wooden stairs, yawning and tying her hair back with a piece of ribbon. The parlour was empty except for Bodie, stretched out in the sun on Sarah’s chaise.

‘Hello, little madam,’ Kitty said. ‘I thought you were out at Pukera with Pierre?’

Bodie opened one eye, yawned and meowed at the same time, then rolled onto her back so that her tummy could be tickled.

Kitty obliged, but confided, ‘I’m not sure Aunt Sarah really wants you depositing black hairs all over her cream upholstery. Actually, wouldn’t she be your
great
-aunt? By marriage?’

‘Cats don’t have aunts,’ Rian said from the dining room.

Kitty found him at the table in his shirtsleeves, eating a large plate of porridge swimming in milk and honey. She sat down.

‘I didn’t hear you get up.’

Rian ran his spoon around the edge of his plate. ‘Then you shouldn’t snore so loudly, sweetheart, should you?’

‘I don’t snore. Has Aunt Sarah risen yet?’

‘She’s been down, but I assume she’s getting dressed now.’

Kitty reached for the teapot, tilted it over a cup and frowned when nothing came out. ‘Damn, is there no more?’