He stared at her admiringly. Can I truly be sitting here like this, he asked himself in disbelief? Sitting full-bellied and content like some pleasant Haymarket merchant across the dinner table from a lovely, demure wife, having just finished a meal fit for a lord? Or is it naught but a dream?
Distant echoes of musket fire breached the solitude of the dining room to assure him it was no dream. A party in progress down on The Beach. Despite the sharp reminder, the debauchery of reveling whalers seemed miles away now.
A knock came from the door, a weak echo of the gunfire. He was puzzled. Visitors were not common here and those residents who sought him out were most likely to do so at the store. While Holly busied herself clearing the table he rose to see who had come calling.
She was handling it well, he had to admit. That could change in the days to come. She’d not been in Kororareka long enough yet to catch her breath.
A veritable army confronted him on the porch: men clad in work clothes, seamen’s garb, and formal attire. His gaze flicked over them.
“Gentlemen, I hardly know how to greet you. To what do I owe the pleasure of this invasion?”
“We apologize, Coffin.” The man who spoke tended to plumpness in his face and body. His muttonchops had turned white, bypassing the gray which so distinguished Coffin. He could not avoid sampling the air in the house. “I hope we’re not interrupting your meal.”
“We’ve only just concluded, William. Please come in.” He stepped aside and let them pass. They filed into the parlor and settled themselves on the plain furniture.
“Well then, friends, what’s this about?”
“It’s about all of us, Robert,” Jonathan Halworthy told him. Halworthy was tall, slim, and addicted to high collars. “This talk is long overdue.” Murmurs of assent and nods came from his companions. “Together with you, the six of us represent the leading citizens of Kororareka and this isolated fragment of Australia colony.”
“We’re the ones with the most money, John, if that’s what you mean.”
A few of them laughed; not all did. They were a solemn bunch today, Coffin mused. He saw they were staring past him. He turned, spoke awkwardly.
“Your pardon, gentlemen. Allow me to introduce my wife, Holly Coffin, newly arrived from London via the Canton clipper. Holly, my colleagues, friends, and competitors.” He identified each and they rose to bow in turn. “Titus Abelmare, William Langston, John Halworthy, Marshall Groan, Safford Perkins. That fuzz-faced lad on the end is Angus McQuade.”
“Gentlemen.” She curtsied perfectly.
There were polite nods and a few awkward smiles which Holly did not penetrate. Most of the men in the room were at least marginally aware of Coffin’s relationship with the fiery Mary Kinnegad. Each kept this knowledge to himself lest he provoke something stormier than a polite reaction from their host. Handshakes and welcomes were exchanged as she moved from visitor to visitor. That of Angus McQuade was especially warm. His young wife Charlene pined daily for one of her own age to gossip with. McQuade was the youngest of the group and acutely conscious of the fact. He was also, however, the second hardest-working man in Kororareka after Robert Coffin.
“You said the leading citizens of this fractious community were all here,” Coffin declared after his wife had left them to their business. “I don’t see Tobias Hull among you.”
Uncomfortable glances were exchanged. “We’ve already discussed this matter with Tobias,” Abelmare told him. “We supposed, rightly as it developed, that he would refuse to come into your house.”
“Well, no matter.” Coffin chose to spare them any additional embarrassment. “It’s thought in some quarters that Tobias and I are not the best of friends.” Only Angus McQuade had the indelicacy—or the boldness—to laugh at that sally. “It matters not. I confess I’ve no more desire to see him in my home than he has to visit it.”
“Now, gentlemen, what brings you here at a time better spent on business? John, you said we had to talk. About what?”
“It’s good that your wife is here now, Robert. Perhaps it will incline you more toward the opinion the rest of us have already reached. As you know, all of us are married, with the exception of friend Perkins.” The saloon owner nodded. “Several of us have children, born here or brought with us from home. We believe we six here represent the feelings of the majority of the permanent settlers, regardless of their social standing in the community. We’ve talked, in groups and individually, with the tradespeople and craftsmen. Kororareka is for them as it is for us much more than a temporary stopping place. Some have dreams of making their fortune and then returning to England or Sydney, but most look upon this land as their final resting place. These are feelings of which you are doubtless already well aware.”
“There’s nothing new in what you say, John.”
Titus Abelmare spoke next. He was senior among them and the weight he carried was not all in his belly. “Coffin, this is no place to raise a family. Despite all our precautions and safeguards children cannot help but be exposed to many, shall we say, degrading influences. To an impressionable youngster the lure of the sea as expounded by rootless, irresponsible, but voluble seamen is intoxicating. I myself have two grandsons verging on manhood. I see them look longingly at the ships anchored in the Bay and I know it for a fact they sneak away from their lessons to spend time listening to the stories spun in the taverns. Neither I nor their parents wish to see them swallowed by the Pacific.”
“Whalers make good money,” Coffin said with a shrug. “If it be the boys’ destiny.…”
“That’s no destiny!” Abelmare’s whiskers quivered with the fury of his response. “Drunk and wild in places like Sydney and Macao, that’s no life. Apprenticeship to a ship’s officer I would consent to, but the other, never. I wouldn’t think you want that for a family of your own, Coffin.”
Marshall Groan spoke up, since Abelmare was turning red in the face and was compelled to resume his seat. “Only last week my wife Helen was accosted on the town’s main street. Not The Beach, mind you, but our own section of the community. I was not able to learn the identities of these men so that I could deliver a protest to their Captain. Now Helen refuses to leave the house without an escort. That’s no way to live, Robert.”
“You’ve obviously all given the matter considerable thought,” Coffin replied softly. “What do you suggest?”
Halworthy leaned over the back of the chair which held Abelmare. “I’ve nothing against The Beach itself, Robert.…”
“I wouldn’t think so, since it provides most of your income.” Of them all, only Perkins had more of an investment in grog shops and gambling dens.
“I do not mean to play the hypocrite. The Beach can stay as it is. We can’t change that anyway. But Kororareka is The Beach, and as Titus says, it’s not a fit place for women and children. We believe the time has come to find another townsite far from The Beach’s influence, a place where honest folk can work in peace and safety, where God-fearing people can go to church on Sunday without worrying that their prayers will be interrupted by the shouts and gunfire of drunken, godless men and pagans.
“We must build a proper school for our children and be able to set out sheep and cattle on the land without fear they will be butchered at night for the larder of some ship whose luck has been too bad to permit them to pay for provisions.”
“Are you worried they’ll butcher your sheep, or your children?”
“It’s no jesting matter, Robert, as well you know. I hardly need remind you of the fate of William’s best mares this past month.”
Truly that was no joke, Coffin admitted. There hadn’t been much left of the horses. Heads, hooves, and skeletons showed signs of neat butchering and quartering. His own animals did their browsing under guard behind a high corral. Still, he found it hard to blame the unknown perpetrators of the deed. A hungry man seeks food wherever he can. But he could also sympathize with the unfortunate Langston.
“There’s only one so
lution to our situation here, Coffin,” Abelmare harrumphed. “We must find a new townsite away from these whalers and their ilk. Not in this area. Should we settle anew on this Bay we will quickly find ourselves inundated with the same riffraff all over again and our resettlement efforts would be for naught. Of course our new town must have a good harbor, but that need not mean disaster. With Kororareka already well established as a whaler’s port I do not think they would be quick to switch anchorages.”
Coffin didn’t have to ponder long. “Gentlemen, I’m delighted to say I agree with you.” A few tense expressions relaxed and smiles appeared among the visitors.
“Now that we have decided what needs to be done, how are we to go about it? Recognizing a problem is not the same as finding a solution. As we are all too well aware, the Maoris control all the land in this vicinity, land which they have refused to sell to us on more than one occasion.”
“The savages are not entirely ignorant,” Groan pointed out. “They realize if they were to sell us good planting land they might lose their monopoly on the supply of food and flax. We are dependent on them for our very lives.”
“We must seek farther afield,” declared Halworthy firmly, “so that we may establish ourselves in country beyond the reach of the locals who have grown sophisticated through their dealings with us.”
Coffin had reason to believe the Maoris were sufficiently sophisticated in matters of commerce long before John Halworthy and his colleagues had set up shop in the Bay of Islands, but it would have been impolitic to say so.
“You’ve put your finger on it. But we cannot plant ourselves in the middle of North Island. As Titus says, it should also be an adequate port as well as having good land for farming.”
“I still think such a move is liable to bring the whalers with it,” said McQuade.
Coffin shook his head. “I think not, Angus. Nor does Titus, and with reason. If the grog shops and brothels stay here, so will the whalers. There is something else also, something which has long concerned me but which I have not had reason to voice before now. Surely it must have occurred to some of you as well. The Lord is bountiful, but I do not think he provided the oceans with an endless supply of whales to gratify the light-starved of London and Paris.” There were a few protests, which Coffin proceeded to stifle.
“Nay, there are a hundred ships berthed here now, and this is but one such port among many. Already I hear Captains muttering of hunts taking years that once took only months, of having to wander into waters still more distant as familiar whaling grounds are hunted out. I believe, gentlemen, that ten years will find us witness to the beginning of the end of the whaling industry as we have come to know it.”
Louder murmurs of disagreement, and a few of dismay, were articulated by Langston. “Then what should we do for business?”
“Not all the craft that ply the Pacific seek the great whale. These others will still need new masts and spars and stores and rigging. Such businesses may decline, but they will not disappear. Meanwhile we must develop other markets and industries. Our economic base balances on the thin fulcrum of whaling. We must strive to expand it.” He focused his attention on Langston and Halworthy.
“You say we are dependent on the Maoris for our livelihoods. This is true. It must change. We must be able to raise our own food. The land here is fertile and rich and the Maoris leave vast fields fallow. Surely we could develop a market for whatever excess we might grow. New South Wales and the rest of mainland Australia is filling up much faster than we. All those new mouths will need to be fed.”
Abelmare was uncertain. “You’re talking about estates, Coffin, when we don’t own enough land to run more than a few cows and horses.”
“Look to your future, Titus. We’ll get the land we need. We must get the land we need, or we may as well pack up and go back to England with our tails between our legs.”
“We’ll need more than just the land,” Langston pointed out. “Land and crops are useless if they’re going to be trampled every year by a people who’ve less love of peace than the headhunters of Cape Colony.”
“Well said, William. Obviously we must have a treaty with the Maoris. Not just those we purchase our land from but as many tribes as we can bring into the bargain. We must move slowly in our dealings with them. As soon as they see our grain mills they’ll want mills of their own. Build a dam and they’ll duplicate it.” He couldn’t keep his voice from rising. “We must never underestimate the Maori! They’re not like the blacks of Cape Colony or the Red Indians of the Americas.
“But we will have the land and the peace. Surely there is enough of both in this country for all.”
“What of those who disagree and feel our future lies with the whalers? I, for one, am not ready to squat down in the mud and become a farmer.”
“Nor am I, Safford,” Coffin assured him. “My business now is as dependent on whaler trade as yours. But we may one day have no choice in what we do.”
“I agree.” Abelmare puffed out his stomach and regarded his companions sagely. “No need to rush into this. We’re not about to abandon Kororareka in a day. We will maintain our businesses here while simultaneously establishing ourselves elsewhere.”
That mollified the reluctant, suspicious Perkins, but it wasn’t enough for Langston.
“There’s something else to consider. I’ve heard talk that the French are thinking of setting a colony on South Island. Remember gentlemen, we are not a British colony but only a distant extension of New South Wales. If the French choose to raise their flag here as they have done elsewhere in the Pacific I am not so confident the Crown would risk a fight with them over so distant and underpopulated a territory. If we are to secure Crown protection we must make this country into something Parliament will want to retain. That means a real settlement, not just a way station for drunken sailors.”
“Aye—well spoken, William!—Let’s get on with it …!” declaimed several of the assembled men.
“How should we commence this enterprise?” McQuade wondered aloud.
“It seems simple enough,” said Groan. “We must get onto FitzRoy to begin dealing with the local chiefs.”
That suggestion brought forth a derisive laugh from Safford Perkins. “FitzRoy? That pompous ass? He believes the Maoris to be the same childlike, innocent heathen he’s dealt with elsewhere, and they in turn regard him as a weak fool. Deny it not, gentlemen.” Perkins’s eyes flicked around the gathering.
“Understand that I am not attacking Mr. FitzRoy personally. He is a good man, a decent man, if something of a prig. His problem is that he seeks to do everyone well. Out of compassion for the Maori’s ‘innocence’ he’d let them steal the legs off his trousers.”
“We must decide how best to proceed.” Coffin spoke quickly, to forestall the brewing battle between FitzRoy’s defenders and detractors. “I’ll set my own thoughts to the project. I advise all of you to do the same. I thank you for sharing this with me. It’s reassuring to know that we’re all more or less of the same mind in this matter.”
He turned toward the front door, a signal to his guests that the conference had run its course. Hats were donned, jackets straightened. As they departed, each man shook hands with his host.
“We’re agreed, then,” said Langston.
“All?” Coffin smiled thinly at his friend. “What of the absent Tobias Hull? What was his reaction?”
“The same. There’ll be no conflict there.”
“It’s a rare day when Hull and I agree on anything.” Seeing that such talk made the rest of them uncomfortable, Coffin dropped it. “It’s also a rare occasion when all of us get together,” he said more cheerfully, trying to dispel the momentary gloom his reference to his bitter rival had engendered. He stepped in front of McQuade and shut the door on him. “Take off your hats again, gentlemen, and stay a while longer. Enough of business, and the future!” Striding over to a rough-hewn cabinet he threw open the double doors to reveal the contents.
“A few poor excuses for cigars and a better class of brandy. We should celebrate our determination.”
“Now that’s more like it.” Safford Perkins slipped out of his coat and immediately launched into an energetic discussion of fine brandy.
The leading citizens of Kororareka spent a leisurely afternoon in the house of Robert Coffin discussing the weather, the need to travel ever farther afield to locate sufficient stands of Kauri pine, gambling, horses, and the virtues of Maori women.
Coffin’s gaze eventually drifted to the darkening sky outside. “Gentlemen, we’ve succeeded in wasting away the afternoon. I think we all have things best done before nightfall.”
“Quite right, quite right, Coffin.” Abelmare heaved himself out of his seat. His colleagues moved to follow him, making their farewells one by one, the brandy having put them all in a good humor.
As if on signal Holly Coffin materialized from the back of the house. She’d changed from the sturdy, multi-layered traveling dress into a thin skirt and blouse that enhanced her figure. She was slim but well-fashioned, like the Resolute.
“Did your discussion go well, husband?”
“Well indeed. There was much to talk about. The principal topic I think you’d find of particular interest.”
“And what might that be?”
“No point in remarking on it until a final decision has been made.” He was teasing her. She pouted, and he found to his considerable surprise that he was enjoying this little domestic tete-a-tete. He looked past her.
“If my nose tells me true, you’ve been working more magic in the kitchen.”
“Samuel’s a fast learner. I wouldn’t have expected him to memorize my instructions so quickly.”
He nodded toward the door. “I see that I’m going to have to remind you, as I do my friends, not to underestimate the intelligence of the Maori, whether it be in matters of war, business, or cooking.”
She laughed easily. “I’ll try to remember. But now while there is still light you must show me the rest of the house, and the grounds.”
Maori Page 5
