WEBSTER and BOYD

Korero (AEWS), Volume 3, Issue 6, 23 April 1945, Page 9

WEBSTER and BOYD

By

R. M. Burdon

- Z

John webster, namesake only of William whose dealings in land were the subject of a previous article in this series, was born in Montrose, Scotland, in the year 1818. Intending that he should make business his career, his parents sent him to work in a mercantile office in Glasgow at the age of fifteen. Webster stood it for five years, at the end of which time he made his escape to Australia. With a dislike of permanent occupations, he preferred to wander about the world as circumstances decreed or opportunity offered and to engage recklessly in any activity that presented itself, without always caring to estimate the consequences. In the Pacific, during the early part of last century, there was no lack of opportunity for a man with such tendencies, and more than once Webster found himself engaged in strange adventures.

After spending a few years in New South Wales he went to New Zealand and joined his brother. When Heke’s war broke out in 1845 he joined the Maori Auxiliary forces under Waka Nene, and fought as a volunteer until the close of the war. Finding himself at a loose end during the unsettled period that followed the making of peace, he went to sea and began trading with the Natives in the employ of Brown and Campbell. At this stage in his life no occupation seems to have held his interest

for long, and in 1850 we find him sailing for San Francisco as a supercargo in the barque “ Noble.” While there, he renewed acquaintance with one, Benjamin Boyd, whom he had met previously in New Zealand. Boyd was a man considerably older than Webster, who had come to Sydney in the early “ forties ” after a career on the London Stock Exchange. In Australia his commercial ventures had been widely spread and on a vast scale. He had founded not only a bank, but also two townships named East Boyd and Boydtown, financed a whaling fleet, and bought several large sheep stations. It was said that his ambition was the possession of a million sheep. A contemporary writer describes him as “a fair specimen of the haughty, gentlemanly, selfish class he represented ” who, when ‘' he had been only eighteen months in the colony, employed two hundred shepherds and stockmen besides artificers ... A man with an apparently unlimited capital, an imposing personal appearance, fluent oratory, and a fair share of commercial acuteness acquired on the Stock Exchange, at once and deservedly placed him at the head of the squatocracy ’ ... He was chief of the 10,000 sheepmen with whom he combined to obtain fixity of tenure for their sheep pastures, to put down small settlers, and to reduce wages.”

Besides this he had been first in another field of enterprise. With the intention of procuring cheap labour, he sent one of his ships to the New Hebrides in 1847 to bring back a cargo of the Islanders. In the course of two voyages more than a hundred Natives were obtained by some means or other. Whether they were legitimately persuaded, decoyed, or kidnapped, I am unable to discover, but the captain of a vessel which called at the Hebrides soon afterwards complained that since the visits of Boyd’s ship it was exceedingly difficult to get the Natives to come on board. Believing that all those of their countrymen who had been taken away were already dead, they had put to death the unfortunate wives who remained behind.

Boyd landed his Native immigrants at Boydtown, and then sent them on to his sheep stations in the interior, intending that they should be trained as

shepherds or hut keepers. They were paid sixpence a week and, in addition, received a new shirt and cap once a year. They do not, however, appear to have taken kindly to their new work. Many of them escaped and made their way to Sydney, where they caused considerable consternation by appearing practically naked in the streets. Those who remained on the stations were of little use and got into mischief unless constantly watched. Two years later Boyd went bankrupt. His creditors allowed him to retain three of his whalers and the yacht “ Wanderer,” in which he sailed to San Francisco.

When Webster met him he was nursing the grotesque idea of founding a republic in the Solomon Islands. Even supposing the minds of the Solomon-Islanders of those days to have been receptive to an experiment in constitution-building, it cannot be admitted that Boyd, whose life had been a denial of republican principles, was the right man to put it into practice. What was such a man doing with such an idea in his head ? And what sort of republic did he intend to found ? Had a complete change of outlook accompanied his bankruptcy ? or

did he see in the founding of his projected republic the means of obtaining an endless supply of sturdy labourers willing to work for sixpence a week and the annual increment of a new shirt and cap ?

Webster, whose interest, one may suppose, lay more in the prospect of adventure than in the founding of a new state, eagerly agreed to accompany Boyd on his voyage. Besides being an artist of considerable ability, Webster was a keen observer with the ability to write down clearly what he saw. He has told the story of the voyage in a book called “ The Last Cruise of the Wanderer,” in which he describes minutely the scenery of the islands and the customs of the inhabitants, but in which, curiously enough, he makes no mention of any preparations for the founding of a republic. At the various islands which the yacht visited, the only activity in which Boyd seems to have indulged was that of going on shore to shoot pigeons—admittedly a harmless pastime, but not one calculated to promote democratic institutions.

The “ Wanderer ” was a schooner of 240 tons armed with twelve brass deck guns and a two-pounder long-tom. Besides Boyd and Webster, there were three other white men on board. The ship’s crew consisted of islanders from the Kingsmill and New Hebrides Groups. There was a supply of pikes and tomahawkes with which to arm them in case of an attempt to board the ship. The “ Wanderer ” first visited Hawaii, and then touched at various islands of the Kingsmill Group, where the Natives were friendly and peaceable, where there was a plentiful supply of fresh cocoanuts, and where Boyd was able to shoot a large number of pigeons without being molested. From there they steered for San Christoval in the Solomons, where Webster noted an ominous sign—the Natives always went armed. Boyd was cautious, continually advising his companions not to venture out of sight of the ship when going ashore. He thought so highly of the harbour at Makira “ that he determined, at an early opportunity, on entering into a treaty with the principal Natives of the locality for

the purpose of acquiring and holding a tract of land, including Makira, for future commercial purposes.” Was he forgetting his republic already?

There was nearly serious trouble at Makira, when Crawford, one of the white men of the party who had gone on shore to prepare a spar, had his axe stolen. The village was searched and the missing axe discovered in the house of the thief, who resisted and defended himself with a spear. Crawford and his friends withdrew on board while a crowd of angry Natives demonstrated on the beach. Having brought the “ Wanderer ” close in shore so that her guns commanded the village, Boyd demanded five pigs and one hundred yams as compensation. When eventually these were paid he returned the pigs and paid for the yams. From Makira the ship sailed and came to Guadalcanar.

Boyd, who had at first been so cautious about going ashore, now appeared to ignore the ominous signs that were so evident to his companions. The Natives of Guadalcanar, Webster writes, “ were the wildest looking fellows I ever saw; their eyes not resting for a moment on anything, but glaring about like those of wild beasts, as if they expected we intended to offer them some treachery.” The signs Webster describes are obviously those of desperate fear, and fear often drives men to violence. Was the dangerous state of mind these people were in unnoticed by Boyd ? Or did he think that he could continue to overawe them with the guns of his ship? Early in the morning of October 15, 1851, he went on shore to shoot pigeons, attended only by his Native servant. Soon after he had gone beyond sight of the ship two shots were heard, but no notice was taken of them by those on board, who concluded, very naturally, that he was shooting at pigeons. Natives now began to gather at the entrance to the creek up which Boyd had disappeared, and a great crowd of them came together on the beach opposite the ship, attempting by signs and gestures to entice the crew on shore. Their attitude soon became so threatening that Webster sounded a

gong as a signal for Boyd to return at once. On hearing it they burst into loud cries of derision. Webster now became seriously alarmed and was wondering what had best be done when he saw an armed party of islanders attempting to board the schooner by the bowsprit. What followed may best be described in his own words.

“ In the utmost confusion we proceeded to arm ourselves, but I cautioned my shipmates to refrain from fighting, if possible, as Mr. Boyd was on shore. The deck guns were neither run out nor loaded. I unshipped the boarding pikes from the main boom, and threw them forward to our Islanders to keep off the Natives. I then darted down below and handed up five or six muskets, and brought up a case of cartridges. ‘ Keep from firing,’ I said. ‘ Remember Mr. Boyd.’

“ Suddenly, a cry arose from the water ; a cry which, once heard, could never be forgotten. It was as if a host of demons had been let loose. The air resounded with their yells and the sullen roaring of numerous war conchs. The next instant a shower of spears, arrows, stones and other missiles, came whistling at us. For the moment we all sought the shelter of the bulwark to allow the first storm to pass. We then fired at the crowded canoes with murderous effect as we had loaded our muskets with ten pistol bullets each. This, however, did not deter them from attempting to board, and it was

not till many had been shot down that they were driven from the after part of the vessel’s side. A moment of quiet elapsed, followed by another burst from the war conchs, and another fiendish yell, and on they came again. They boarded us forward and were rapidly driving our crew aft, their boarding pikes opposed by the wickerwork shields with which the Natives defended themselves. Seeing that our crew were unable to keep them off, I went to their assistance and fired at the savages with a double-barrelled gun. Their shields proved of no avail against the white man’s fire ; one or two fell wounded, and our crew, with a shout, made a simultaneous charge and cleared the decks, despatching the wretches who had been wounded, and throwing them overboard. They were, for the time, converted into as great demons as those against whom they fought. “ We now got a two-pounder swivel gun loaded with grape to bear upon the nearest canoe ; a volume of white smoke hid the object, and next moment, when it cleared away, the canoe was seen upset and the water slightly discoloured. This decided the battle.”

Next day Webster organized an expedition to search for Boyd. They went on shore and burnt down two villages, but the only trace found of the missing men was the portion of a baked human skull which they believed to be that of Boyd's Native servant. Of Boyd himself there was no sign. For many years afterwards rumours kept filtering through to the Australian ports of a white man held prisoner by the Solomon-Islanders, but expeditions sent out to search for him invariably returned with their quest unfulfilled. '

The “ Wanderer ” sailed for the Australian coast, but was wrecked off Port McQuarie. For some years more Webster continued in his roving habits, until finally he returned to New Zealand and settled down to become a timber-mer-chant at Kohukohu, in the Hokianga district.

It was almost certain that Boyd was no longer alive, but the curious idea of founding a so-called republic in the Solomon Islands persisted in the minds of

certain people whose identity my researches have so far failed to discover. About the year 1855 it was proposed to make John Webster Sovereign Chief of Eastern San Christoval, while Charles Julian, of New South Wales (afterwards Chief Justice of Fiji under King Thakobau), and E. E. de Boss Reeves, author of a book on the South Sea Islands, were to be appointed to the same dignity on the islands of Marau and Malo. These three kingdoms were to form a confederation under the protectorate of the Government of the Sandwich Islands. Each of the Sovereign Chiefs was provided with a national flag. Webster received a royal coat of arms and seal, of tasteful design, but apparently no prac-

tical steps were taken to put him in possession of his principality. King Kamehameha, of the Sandwich Islands, created him a Knight Commander of the Order of Arossi, the insignia of which was “ very handsome and unique,” but there the royal assistance ended.

A stream of questions arise, to which, unfortunately, I can give no answer. Who were the sponsors of this republican revival, and what was the form of their proposed constitution ? Was them project backed up officially, or were they private adventurers ? And, lastly, why were they prepared to spend quite a lot of money on expensive trappings, and, as it seems, very little on the practical details of setting up a Government.