Chapter 15

Port Nicholson, Sept 24th, 1839

Colonel Wakefield paced the deck of the Tory in growing frustration. No one was listening to him; again he repeated his instructions to the hapless sailors.

"Keep the muskets further back!" he yelled. "I told you, have the larger items placed to the rear and the smaller items near the front where they can be easily seen. Spread everything out so that it will appear there is more!"

Items of all description were arranged on the deck; there were dozens of shirts, pants and nightcaps. Tomahawks, axes, adzes, boxes of soap, wax, lead and shaving brushes were stacked in neat orderly rows. The New Zealand Company had brought from England cotton, calico, ribbon and handkerchiefs, all quality fabrics and now proudly displayed. Nor had they forgotten the much sought-after gunpowder, muskets and cartridges. The sailors were arranging scissors, umbrellas and Jew"s harps, filling all available deck space.

"Put the blankets over there, man!" fussed Colonel Wakefield, "No, no, behind the pencils!"

"That"s "bout it, sir," said a frustrated sailor carrying a box of combs, the last items to be brought up from the ship"s hold.

"Where are the pipes? I know there are pipes somewhere."

"Yes sir, they"re here." With exasperation the sailor pointed to a small box completely hidden by forty-eight iron pots.

"Are you sure that is it? I thought there was more." questioned the colonel.

"No sir, that"s everything you had assigned for the Port Nicholson purchase," replied the sailor, rolling his eyes.

The colonel looked across Port Nicholson, hoping to sight the ship"s boat that was to bring the six M?ori chiefs to the Tory. He walked to the bow, dodging various items neatly arrayed on deck, and looked again across the bay. Still nothing. "Damn it, where are they?"

Captain Chaffers approached and stood beside Wakefield, "I will inform you immediately once the boat has been sighted, colonel."

He sighed, "Thank you, captain, I will go to my cabin in the meantime. Can you find Jerningham and send him to me, please?"

"Yes, of course, colonel."

It had always been the intention that young Jerningham would record the land transactions and write the deed-of-sale documents on behalf of the New Zealand Company. It mattered not that he wasn"t a legal scholar or familiar with the nuances and expertise of creating binding legal documents. He was an intelligent, young man, quick to adapt, showing promise with pen and paper, and was the obvious and preferred choice to undertake that responsibility. In preparation, and with youthful confidence, Edward Jerningham Wakefield had briefly viewed some deed documents in England and felt comfortable that he could easily act in the company"s best interests.

It was in his uncle"s cabin that Jerningham was being reminded of his obligations and the expectations placed upon him. The colonel needed reassurance that the-deed-of-sale would be created to satisfy the scrutiny of any court of law in the event the company"s purchases were ever challenged.

William had confidence in the ability of his eighteen-year-old nephew. He was, however, unimpressed with the callousness and attitude young Jerningham displayed. Perhaps this was just a sign of the times; young people now showed little respect for responsibility and authority. Wakefield was about to reiterate this point to Jerningham when a knock at the door informed him that the boat had been sighted and was approaching.

The colonel gave Jerningham a final look, patted him on the shoulder and the two men headed on deck to wait for their guests.

Symbolising status, the six M?ori chiefs were each resplendent in their kahu kuri as they were welcomed aboard the Tory. To Barrett"s displeasure, Chief Te Wharepouri invited Ngaiti to attend. After the formal introductions were made, Colonel Wakefield immediately began to summarise the territory the New Zealand Company would purchase.

Te Wharepouri outlined the boundaries by drawing a map on the deck of the Tory. The area of land he described, approximately 160,000 acres, encompassed the land controlled by the six chiefs here today.

Colonel Wakefield made an impressive show of highlighting the displayed merchandise. The chiefs made no secret that these items held value for them; having possession would change their lives dramatically. One chief, Nga Pakawa, stood further back and was scowling; he was visibly unhappy and spoke in hushed whispers to Te Wharepouri as Barrett finished his irregular translations.

The hui held at Kaiwharawhara the previous evening had not gone well. Initially, Te Wharepouri and Te Puni were the only chiefs willing to deal with the New Zealand Company. The others wanted no part of the Pakeha or their intrusion onto their lands. After much discussion and argument, all but one finally agreed. A lesser chief, Nga Pakawa, was unwilling to consent.

His argument, perhaps the most compelling of all, left a chill with the other chiefs when he had asked, "What will you say when many, many white men come here and drive you all away to the mountains? How will you feel when you go to the white man"s house or ship to beg for shelter and hospitality, and he tells you, with his eyes turned up to the heaven and the name of his God in his mouth, to be gone, for that your land is paid for?"

Famous for his wisdom and intelligence, Te Puni paused to consider his reply. Turning to face Nga Pakawa, the older chief replied with gravity, "How will you feel watching your women being raped and your children being carried away to become slaves by warriors from northern tribes? How will you feel when you ask for help, with the Pakeha God in your heart and no weapons to fight with?"

It was an undeniable stark reminder of the constant danger they were all in. As the five chiefs looked at Nga Pakawa. He looked to the ground - his doubts were driven by the words and advice he"d received from the missionary Reverend Henry Williams.