William Henry Giles Kingston: a borrower afloat

Turnbull Library Record, Volume XIII, Issue 1, 1 May 1980, Page 26

William Henry Giles Kingston: a borrower afloat

J. B. RINGER

Robert Louis Stevenson, in his verse prologue to Treasure Island, paid tribute to the literary idols of his youth: Kingston, or Ballantyne the brave, Or Cooper of the wind and wave. The last two names are still familiar; the first is not. Unlike R. M. Ballantyne, unlike James Fenimore Cooper, W. H. G. Kingston is largely a forgotten writer except to bibliophiles and antiquarian booksellers and an older generation with fond memories of Sunday School prizes. Most of his books have gone out of print. One or two only are read today: boys’ tales of adventure at sea, such as Peter the Whaler, which has been translated recently into Niuean. 1 Yet, in his time, Kingston was a prolific, respected and immensely popular author. He was also a persistent plagiarist.

William Henry Giles Kingston was born in 1814, the son of a merchant with interests in Portugal. He was expected to enter the family business, but soon showed he preferred writing to trade. His first published work was in newspapers, but his literary career proper began with the publication in 1844 of an adventure novel, The Circassian Chief. ‘lt is a readable story,’ his biographer has said, ‘but not qualified to survive in a competition for the world’s interest’. 2 Kingston’s first great success was Peter the Whaler in 1851. From then until his death in 1880 he scribbled unceasingly: he founded or edited five periodicals, 3 wrote innumerable magazine articles, and published more than 150 books, both fiction and non-fiction. Several of them were about, or set in, New Zealand, although he never visited the place.

Kingston’s industry is amazing: 150 books in 36 years is an average of more than four books a year. Yet writing was only one of his activities. He was a devoted husband and father. While still a young man, he received an order of Portuguese knighthood and a pension for services to that country. He had a passion for the sea. One of his obituarists assures us that for several years of his life Kingston was ‘constantly afloat, either in his own yacht, merchant vessels, or men o’ war. ’ 4 He was one of the founders of the Missions to Seamen. He was an active propagandist for emigration before imperialism became fashionable. He served as the honorary

secretary of a Christian colonization society, edited a colonial magazine, and wrote emigrant manuals. 5 He was an active patriot. He helped promote the Volunteer Movement during the Crimean War. He was, in short, the perfect Victorian. This sober and devout man, active in his good works, prolific in his writing, had too little time to spare to worry about literary originality. He usually wrote to a formula. And, though the characters in his books roamed all the oceans of the world, he himself visited only the Continent and Canada. He sought local colour from the writings of more intrepid travellers. In a footnote to his missionary tale, The Cruise of the Mary Rose, he described his method: ‘ln the course of this volume the author, it will be observed, has transcribed much from the actual reports of missionaries and from the journals of naval officers who have visited the South Seas. Even in the connecting thread of narrative, and in descriptive scenes . . . the writer has stated nothing for which he has not ample authority in published works.’ 6 Such generalised acknowledgement is more than his other novels usually carry, although many of them include chunks lifted virtually intact from other writers’ works. It is not unusual for the writer of fiction to get local colour from the experts. Indeed, today, the popular novelist travelling the world to research his background is a commonplace figure. Kingston, however, borrowed more directly than most.

Malcolm Willey has traced the origin of both incident and detail in Peter the Whaler back to William Scoresby’s The Arctic Regions and the Northern Whale Fishery. 7 I intend to do a similar service for Kingston’s ‘New Zealand’ fiction, to trace the (unacknowledged) source of certain of the material in his novels Holmwood, Waihoura, and The Fortunes of the Ranger and Crusader, and in the New Zealand chapter of The Three Admirals. 8

Holmwood and Waihoura are emigrant tales. Holmwood especially is written for a highly specific audience: potential emigrants amongst England’s lower classes, described on the cover as ‘the poorer population of our towns, the inhabitants of our coasts, and our soldiers and sailors in barracks, and on board ship.’ It was published in 1868, and Waihoura about four years later. Kingston went through a financial crisis in the late 1860 s, and the need for money may have forced him to re-use his plots, for those of the two books are nearly identical. An impoverished middle-class family (accompanied by loyal servants) goes out to New Zealand to retrieve its fortunes. The family wins the friendship and protection of a local chief by curing his daughter of a fever. This friendship stands them in good stead during the disturbances. The Maoris have their eyes opened to the truth of the Gospel. Good settlers and friendly natives

prosper together. This is the archetypal plot of the emigrant tale, a form first used with a New Zealand setting by Mrs Isabella Aylmer in her novel Distant Homes, published in 1862. 9 In a manual, How to Emigrate, 10 issued several years before Holmwood or Waihoura, Kingston makes reference to Charles Hursthouse’s book, The Settlement of New Plymouth. 11 It is not surprising, therefore, to find that his two novels are set in a thinly disguised Taranaki. In Waihoura, describing the new settlers’ first view of their adopted land, he modifies and rearranges the elements of Hursthouse’s own description of New Plymouth from the sea: the roadstead becomes a port, extra mountains are added'to the scenery. But later, in describing the New Zealand bush, he modifies little. Waihoura, the Maori princess, is here pointing out to her English friend, Lucy, its beauties:

The most beautiful tree was the rimu, which rose without a branch to sixty or seventy feet, with a graceful drooping foliage of a beautiful green, resembling clusters of feathers, then there was the kahikatea, or white pine, resembling the rimu, but with a light coloured bark . . . the best fruit was the poroporo, which had a taste between that of apple peel and a bad strawberry . ,\ 12

The above extract is taken from one of several paragraphs bearing a remarkable similarity to Hursthouse’s account: The Rimu, called Red Pine ... is frequently sixty to seventy feet high without a branch ... Its foliage is remarkably graceful, drooping like clusters of feathers, and of a beautiful green . . . The Kahikatea, or White Pine, is occasionally seen ninety feet high without a branch. In foliage and manner of growth it resembles the Rimu, but it has a lighter coloured bark . . . The Poroporo . . . produces the finest berry: when quite ripe its flavour is something between that of apple-peel and a bad strawberry . . , 13

Kingston, however, did not copy quite every detail slavishly. The plot of Waihoura calls for a swift pursuit through the bush, therefore the undergrowth is described rather as open like that of the English forest than as its tangled reality. One of the settlers observes that ‘although the foliage is so dense overhead, there is no jungle or underwood to obstruct our passage’. 14 Holmwood, written with a more practical bias than Waihoura, offers its readers advice on farming in the new lands. The best land is wooded. American axes, crosscut saws, and fire are useful in clearing it. Fern land is less fruitful, but is easier to clean up:

To prepare fern land, it is necessary to choose dry weather, when a gentle breeze is blowing, and to fire the fern. The thick, matted, dead stuff at the bottom, with the leafy part of the fern, is first consumed, leaving only the shrivels of‘tuke’; and the cane-like fern stalks, which being softened by the fire, should be cut down at once with a hook or short scythe . . . 15 This is all good Hursthouse:

Choosing a gentle breeze, the fern is fired: if it burns well, all the thick and matted dead stuff at the bottom, with the leafy part of the live fern will be consumed, leaving only the shrivelled ‘Tutu’ and the cane-like fern stalks, which, as softened by the fire, should be cut at once, either with a strong hook, or still better with a short scythe . . , 16

The Fortunes of the Ranger and Crusader is a tale of adventure and shipwreck at sea. An emigrant ship, the Crusader , and a troop ship, the Ranger, set off for New Zealand. The Crusader is wrecked on the Auckland Islands. Some of the Ranger's boats, separated from their ship, also end up there. After many adventures and some privations, the emigrants eventually reach their original destination.

The germ of Kingston’s idea is not difficult to trace. Captain Thomas Musgrave’s Castaway on the Auckland Isles was published in Melbourne in 1865 and in London the next year. 17 It is an edited version of the journal Musgrave kept during an enforced sojourn on the Aucklands after the shipwreck of his schooner, the Grafton. In 1872, Kingston’s Shipwrecks and Disasters at Sea 18 was published. It includes an account of Musgrave’s experiences. The same year, The Fortunes of the Ranger and Crusader came out.

It borrows heavily from Musgrave but there is no evidence that Kingston knew of the existence of an alternative and highly romanticized version of the shipwreck published in Paris under the name of Musgrave’s French mate, M. Frederic Raynal. 19 Even had he known of it, he was surely too good an Englishman to have used it. With the spirit of Musgrave’s journal, Kingston is harsh. He excludes from his tale any real hint of desolation and despair, and presents a cheerful adventure tale punctuated with prosy moralizing. It is detail that he borrows. Musgrave mentions a fear that the seals will storm his tent; Kingston’s seals do just that. Musgrave describes friendly robin-like birds constantly pursued by hawks; Kingston’s castaways protect the birds by shooting hawks. Musgrave and his men nickname an identifiable king seal ‘Royal Tom’; Kingston names his ‘Tippo Sahib’. Musgrave uses a root native to the island as a substitute for potatoes and for manufacturing sugar; the Crusader' s doctor does likewise. There are numerous such parallels. The most striking, perhaps, concerns a discovery Musgrave made when he returned to the Aucklands on a rescue ship, the Flying Scud. On the other side of the island to his former camp, he came across a tumbledown hut with the mummified corpse of a sailor inside:

The body lay on a bed of grass, with some boards underneath raising it a few inches from the ground . .• . within his reach were two bottles containing water, one nearly empty, the other was full. Close by lay a small heap of limpet and mussel

shells ... he had on a sou’wester hat, three woollen mufflers, a dark brown cloth coat with an almost invisible stripe in it, and trousers to match, a blue serge vest . . . Round his neck hung some Roman Catholic relic in the shape of a heart. . , 20 Kingston’s castaways make a similar discovery on one of their expeditions: On a rude bed raised a couple of feet from the ground, lay the body of a man . . . Close by was a small heap of limpet and mussel shells, and within his reach were two bottles—one was empty, but the other was full of water . . , 21

The details of the clothes are the same—except that Kingston, a good Protestant, omits the holy medal. In 1872, Kingston published the sea tale, The Three Midshipmen. It was enormously popular. He followed it up with (naturally) The Three Lieutenants and The Three Commanders and finally, in 1878, The Three Admirals. This last has a chapter set in New Zealand during the Land Wars. Some years previous to The Three Admirals, Kingston had published Blue Jackets, 22 an account of the exploits of the fighting Royal Navy during Queen Victoria’s reign. This had briefly covered the war in New Zealand from 1845 to 1847. The Three Admirals, however, owes little to this, and draws instead upon accounts of the Waikato campaign. Kingston’s heroes join in a bloody attack on a well-fortified pa on the banks of the Waikato. Its name is not given, but its description clearly reveals it as Rangiriri:

It was situated on a hill some way up the river . . . Besides the pah, strong entrenchments had been thrown up by the Maoris, reaching from the right bank of the river to a lake on the opposite side of the pah, thus completely blocking up the road. In addition to these fortifications, were two lines of rifle-pits . . , 23

The description of the battle —the shelling, the sacrificial assaults, the eventual surrender —could have been pieced together from any newspaper account, but direct parallels suggest that the most probable source is Major-General Sir James Alexander’s Bush Fighting. 24 This is confirmed by the similarity of Kingston’s description of ‘A night march to attack a village—Desperate defence of the inhabitants’ and Alexander’s description of the attack on Rangiaowhia. Alexander’s brisk account of the assault on one hut reads:

The Maoris pushed their guns through the walls and fired. The door was attempted to be forced open. They pulled a Ranger inside, and the hut took fire. The door opened, and a big Maori came out in his blanket, and walked up deliberately to the soldiers and gave himself up a prisoner. No others came out, and in the ruins were found the charred remains of six men and the Ranger. 25 Kingston adds some picturesque details: One of the seamen had got close up to the door, when it was opened and he was hauled inside before his comrades could rescue him. There could be little doubt but

that he was instantly put to death . . . ‘We must not let those fellows keep us back, cried Jack, dashing forward at the head of his men, when all at once flames burst forth so furiously from every part of the building that no one could approach it. . . the door opened and a tall Maori stalked forth, his blanket over his head to defend himself from the flames. With a dignified step he advanced towards Jack, and presenting his war axe, he yielded himself up as a prisoner. No others came out, and the roof of the hut directly afterwards fell in . . . for an instant a blackened head rose amidst the burning embers, and in another place an arm and shoulder appeared, but directly after sank down. Not a groan, not a sound proceeded from the building. All within it had perished . . , 26

A piece of comic relief follows —a simple Irish fellow falls in love at first sight with a beautiful Maori girl taken prisoner in the village. Kingston obviously wrote with his sources very close at hand, but he did not hesitate to embroider them for the sake of dramatic colour.

The majority of Kingston’s books are fiction for boys. His aim was always to entertain, but equally it was to persuade. His heroes were examples of manliness and decency (and high spirits) for youthful readers to emulate. Kingston himself never did less than what he considered his duty. His obituarist in the Athenaeum could state:

English speaking boys throughout the world will learn with sorrow that W. H. G. Kingston is no more. For nearly thirty years he enjoyed a remarkable popularity as a writer for boys, and he achieved this popularity without having recourse to any . . . pernicious methods . . . There is not a page in any of his books which the most scrupulous parent would wish to take out, or a sentiment inculcated that is not thoroughly honest, upright, manly and true. 27 There are, however, many pages which are not his own.

REFERENCES 1 Peter the Whaler: His Early Life and Adventures in the Arctic Regions, (London, 1851). Trans. Tongakilo, Ko Pita ko e Tagata Hoka Tafua (Wellington, 1969). 2 Rev. Maurice Rooke Kingsford, The Life, Work and Influence of William Henry Giles Kingston (Toronto, 1947) p. 174. 3 He was succeeded to the editorship of the Union Jack: Tales for British Boys, which he had founded only a year before his death, by G. A. Henty, another children’s author with an occasional interest in New Zealand. 4 The Times, 10 August, 1880. 5 He contributed, for instance, to Emigrant Tracts (London, 1850). His aim was to assist the poor and unfortunate to emigrate, not just to New Zealand, but to any likely field of settlement: Canada, the United States, Australia, the Cape Colonies. 6 The Cruise of the Mary Rose, new edition (London, 1903) p. 248. 7 William Scoresby, The Arctic Regions and the Northern Whale Fishery (Edinburgh, 1820) 2v. This work another, finer, writer of fiction also found useful: Herman Melville in Moby Dick.

8 Holmwood, or The New Zealand Settler (London, [1868]); Waihoura, or The New Zealand Girl (London, [1872]); The Fortunes of the Ranger and Crusader (London, 1872); The Three Admirals, and the Adventures of Their Young Followers (London, 1878). 9 Isabella Aylmer, Distant Homes, or The Graham Family in New Zealand (London, 1862). 10 How to Emigrate, or The British Colonist (London, 1850). 11 Charles Hursthouse, An Account of the Settlement of New Plymouth (London, 1849). 12 Waihoura, p. 52-3. 13 New Plymouth, p. 15-18. 14 Waihoura, p. 17. 15 Holmwood, p. 30-1. 16 New Plymouth, p. 93. 17 Thomas Musgrave, Castaway on the Auckland Isles . . . Edited by John Shillinglaw (Melbourne, 1865). 18 Shipwrecks and Disasters at Sea (London, 1872). This also includes accounts of the massacres of the Boyd and of the Agnes and ofjohn Rutherford’s adventures. 19 F. E. Raynal, Les Naufrages, ou Vingt Mois sur un Recif des lies Auckland (Paris, 1870). A shorter magazine edition was published the previous year. 20 Castaway, p. 95-6. 21 The Fortunes, p. 273. 22 Blue Jackets, or Chips of the Old Block (London, 1853). 23 The Three Admirals, p. 269. 24 Sir James Alexander, Bush Fighting. Illustrated by Remarkable Actions and Incidents of the Maori War in New Zealand (London, 1873). 25 Bush Fighting, p. 135-6. 26 The Three Admirals, p. 284. 27 Athenaeum, 14 August, 1880, p. 211.