PRELATE WHO ACTED AS DRESSMAKER FOR DUSKY MAIDS

Sun (Auckland), Volume 1, Issue 62, 4 June 1927, Page 21 (Supplement)

PRELATE WHO ACTED AS DRESSMAKER FOR DUSKY MAIDS

(Written for THE SUN by

ERIC RAMSDEN.)

T has been truly observed that wherever the EngMrllM/riP lishman goes he takes iIQMUI-, his tea-pot with him. |QjojxßU¥tJ John Coleridge Patteson, the scholarly martyred Bishop of Melanesia was no exception to the rule. In a corner of the interesting little museum which •he Melanesian Mission has established in its board room in Auckland, may be seen tbe late Bishop's tea-pot. Several personal relics of the saintly Patteson, whose inspiration to serve in the islands of the Pacific was the result of an eloquent appeal by Bishop Selwyn when he visited Eton, may be seen in the collection. With the tea-pot is a cup and saucer, a cream jug, and a milk jug, all in the floral Davenport design on a black background—effectively quaint, and quite typical of the period. There is also the Bishop’s medicine chest. It is now empty, of course, but the maker's inscription will acquaint you with the fact that it was purchased

“near the Temple.” Was it, I wonder, the identical box with Bishop Pateson on the Southern Cross, when he tended to the dying Edwin Nobbs and Fisher Young, the first martyrs of the mission? Mission’s First Martyrs Edwin Nobbs was the son of the clergyman at Norfolk Island, a fine, tall fellow of about twenty-one. Fisher, some years younger, had peculiarly endeared himself to the bishop. Years before, Mrs. Selwyn had singled him out as a rather remarkable lad. These boys had accompanied Patteson on a visit to Santa Cruz. Suspicious natives fired on the ship’s boat. Both subsequently died, lovingly tended by the bishop, victims of the dreaded tetanus. But to revert to the museum. There is also on vle.w the actual log of the

Southern Cross describing the death of the Bishop. Though faded, the handwriting is still remarkably clear. The captain, after recording the discovery of the body of the murdered prelate, which had been floated from the shores of Nukapu, says: “The head was beat all to pieces.” This fact is not generally known, though mission histories always allude to the fact that a palm with five knots had been placed on the bishop’s breast. There were also five wounds on the body.

The knots in the palm and the wounds on his body presumably represented the fate of five natives who had been “black-birded” from the island. The murder of Bishop Patteson was undoubtedly an act of revenge. Ilis death, nevertheless, was the greatest publicity “boost” the mission ever knew. The eyes of the civilised w'orld were attracted to Melanesia. Queen Victoria even alluded to the crime with genuine horror.

The captain of the Southern Cross was no “scholard!” He remarks curiously enough on September 22, the day after the murder, “we can’t get away from this ‘cursted’ island.” It is just one of those human touches in history, like the bishop taking his tea-pot around the benighted Islands, that brings the past so vividly before us. Then there are the pocket Communion vessels used by Bishop Mackenzie in Africa, and given by him to Bishop Patteson. An ingenious contrivance for three parts of a century ago was the fork, spoon, and corkscrew, the bone handle now seered by the kindly fingers of Time, which Patteson carried with him oil his journeys. A copy of the first prayers used in connection with the; teaching of Melan-

esian lads at historic St. John’s College, before the cold winds that swept the Tamaki forced the scholars to descend to the more sheltered shores of Kohimarama, is also in the collection. The volume was printed at St. John’s in 1858. In it are notes in Patteson’s own handwriting. Bishop Patteson’s bible and prayer book, printed in the Mota language, also has an honoured place in the collection. In addition, there are several early daguerrotypes of mission workers. One shows the Bishop surrounded by followers, in all the dignity of his top hat. The Bishop “Cutting Out”

There is another picture of Bishop Vatteson which comes to my mind, although, unfortunately, there is no photograph of it. It is the Bishop seated on the beach on one of his island tours, with a group of native girls around him. He was cutting out garments of unbleached calico. “As each bride was brought by her friends,” says one of the mission historians, “she was clothed and added to the group.” Those ugly Mother Hubbards, universal among the islands, probably represented Dr. Patteson’s dressmaking. He surely would not have attempted anything more ambitious.

Then there is the story of the poor native lad at Norfolk Island, whose history is solemnly recorded because he “fell into that sin which was so difficult to bring before those heathenborn lads in its true light.” The Bishop had perceived a change in him, had feared for him, and offered to marry him at once. The dusky lad replied that he and his betrothed were too young. But fall he eventually did.

A council of his own peers decided that he should not eat at the high table, that he should not teach, and that he should not come into chapel. The lady in the case had only been converted from heathenism a bare eighteen fnonths. To force a European code of morals upon these young savages seems extraordinary. And what was more extraordinary, is that there were not more so-called lapses! Eventually the lad and his lass were married and the tongue of scandal was silenced. Lady Martin, wife of the Chief Justice, pafcl a wond % Cul tribute to Patteson when she wrote of him during his illness in Auckland. “Purity Of Expression” “His face, always beautiful from the unworldly purity of its expression, was really as the face of an angel, while he spoke of his work and of the love and kindness he had received.”