About William Henry (Bully) Hayes - South Sea Pirate

The vituperation did not come very well from the pen of Henry Parkes, who was himself living on "an extended system of credit". Let us hear part of his story from the Australian Encyclopaedia: "Parkes tried hard to save the Empire, but failed. The liabilities of the paper amounted to 50,000 pounds, and, although his friends advanced the sum required to pay off a mortgage of 11,000 pounds, in 1858 the position became hopeless." In August of that year Parkes resigned from the Legislative Assembly because of his insolvency. Soon after the articles about Hayes were published in the Sydney Morning Herald and the Empire, Hayes struck more adversity. A man who had lent him money on an I.O.U. after the shipwreck, during the voyage of the Antonio to Sydney, took out a summons against him.

Wrote the Sydney Morning Herald: "William Henry Hayes, late the master of the foundered brig Ellenita, was charged by Abner W. Kempton, master mariner, with obtaining money under false pretences." Evidence was given that at Apia and at Sydney Hayes unlawfully pretended that he was the owner of a ship at Port Adelaide, and that he would give Abner command of that vessel if he would lend him money. The sum of 53 pounds changed hands with fraud and intent on the part of Captain Hayes. "The attorney for the defence, Mr Redman, objected on the grounds that even in the information no illegal act was stated: the promise might have been bona fide, and the defendant might at the time have intended to fulfil the engagement. The case was dismissed: the Bench being of opinion that the Court had no jurisdiction in the matter."

Though the original charge failed, there was still the matter of the debt to be settled, and in this the judgment went against Hayes. With no assets to distain on, he was lodged in the Debtors' prison in Darlinghurst Jail, Sydney, on 17th January 1860. Two days later he was released, after filing his petition in bankruptcy. He listed his debts at 173 pounds, and his assets as nil. His sextant, valued at thirty shillings, could not be seized, since it was a tool of trade. So ended the memorable voyage of the Ellenita brig, Bully Hayes was now a beachcomber in Sydney, ruined in pocket, for the time being and in reputation for ever. His main enemies were agents for the mercantile firms at Singapore, Batavia, Adelaide and San Francisco, who had been alerted to him as a vamooser. That was his real offence - his betrayal of mercantile codes of trust and honour. He was commercially without principle. He thought he could beat the game, as it was necessary to make an example of him. He had not beaten the game. The game had beaten him.

With such a bad reputation, Captain Hayes had no hope of getting command of a vessel, so he had to search for other means of earning a living. As he had a pleasant singing voice, he joined a vaudeville troupe of "Nigger Minstrels" on a tour of country towns in the hinterland of Sydney. In this anonymity, he was out of the news for fifteen months, and must be presumed to have earned his living honestly as an entertainer. Then the call of the sea returned. In 1860 he was with the troupe at the coalfields town of Maitland, near the port of Newcastle, seventy miles north of Sydney. There he met Captain and Mrs Allen once more. According to a letter written by Captain Allen, he was in Maitland with his wife on race day when they met Hayes, "dressed as a nigger minstrel". Hayes told them that he and others of the troupe were doing well. At Maitland Hayes, as usual, made many friends. Among them was Mr. Samuel Clift, a well-to-do man, who took a great fancy to Hayes. Clift, a wealthy grazier who lived on Wallis Plains, had arrived in Australia in 1818 on the convict transport Neptune. After his emancipation, he was granted land and prospered. Hayes became engaged to Clift's daughter. Mr Clift bought the barque Launceston, 328 tons, and made Hayes master of her.

On 20th March 1861 the Launceston, W.H. Hayes, master, sailed from Newcastle loaded with coal for Bombay. A week later she put into Sydney to refit after being damaged by a storm. On 10th April 1861 she sailed from Sydney, but she did not reach Bombay. A circular issued from Batavia on 30th August 1861 by several merchants of that city, and sent to newspapers at various places around the Pacific, tells the story, beginning with the ominous words: "We conceive it to be advisable to place you in possession of some proceedings which have lately taken place here, and which are charged with the gravest interest to mercantile and underwriting clauses." According to this account, the Launceston arrived from the Australian Colonies loaded with coal. The captain, W.H. Hayes consigned ship and cargo to Messrs Fraser, Eaton and Company. After disposing of the coals, which belonged to him, Hayes sought a charter back to Australia. the ship, having obtained a survey certificate, was chartered by Dutch merchants at the rate of 3 pounds per ton to load at Samarang and Dadap. Having taken in 2500 piculs of sugar and 500 piculs of coffee at Samarang, the Launceston proceeded to Dadap to fill up with rice.

The Singapore Straits Times of 30th August 1859 had published an article about Captain W.H. Hayes, a notorious swindler who had absconded with two ships and cargoes, and always succeeded in making his escape. for some reason this article did not arrive in Batavia until about eighteen months later - too late, much too late! As soon as the merchants of Batavia read this warning from Singapore, they called on her Britannic Majesty's Consul in Batavia to ascertain whether the Captain Hayes commanding the Launceston was the same man mentioned by their Singapore neighbours. "The ship's papers were found in order, although it was stated that Captain Hayes had been appointed master of the ship, without any proof of his competency to command a ship having been produced.: The Launceston stood, according to the register, as owned by Captain Hayes and consequently the British Consul declined at first to take any official steps in the matter. The Dutch authorities were applied to, but with the same result, and all that the interested parties could obtain was a letter from the British consul to Hayes, by which he was requested to come to Batavia with his papers in order to clear himself of the imputations made against his character. Hayes, who was at Dadap, promised to come, but eventually declined. "He stated that he did not care if no further cargo was given to him, that he had twenty laydays still to run, and that after the expiration of these he would proceed on his voyage, the cargo he had on board being sufficient to pay his full freight. On a close examination of his signature and hand-writing of the letters with the signature which the ship's papers bore it was evident that they were not written by the same person."

Complicating matters further, the second mate of the Launceston and a sailor deserted the ship. Captured by the police and brought aboard the Launceston, the two escapees vowed they would jump over board before sailing with Hayes. The dispute between Hayes and the Dutch merchants ended with a promise from Hayes that he would discharge the cargo, and return it to the Dutch merchants, who were to pay the cost. Says the Dutch merchants' circular: "This proposition was agreed to by both sides, and we trust he is now discharging his cargo at Cheribon, the nearest port." Their faith in human nature was shaken. After stating that Hayes must have had a guilty conscience, or he would not have agreed to return the cargo, their circular ended as follows: "Captain W.H. Hayes , on being ordered to proceed from Indramayoe to Cheribon to discharge and receive his freight, as before advised, appears to have gone off altogether, as the ship is no longer at Indramayoe or Cheribon. He has received of his agent 500 pounds and his cargo is worth about 100,000 dollars, of which only 60,000 dollars is insured."

Puzzle: what happened to the Launceston? She left Cheribon on or about 30th August 1861, and Hayes was out of circulation until eleven months later, when he appeared on 6th July 1862 as a passenger on the Cincinnati at Newcastle en route to New Zealand. Was the Launceston wrecked? Did Hayes sell her, and if so, did Samuel Clift ever get paid for the money advanced to buy the Launceston? And Miss Clift? Did she pin for her lost lover, and die an old maid? Our historian friend, Mr A.T. Saunders states: "The register of the Launceston in Sydney Customs House shows that she was sold to foreigners in Sourabaya, and was written off the Sydney register in July 1862." These are questions for historians to unveil.

In July 1861, while Bully Hayes was on his voyage to Java, gold was discovered in the mountains and valleys of Otago in the South Island of New Zealand. A rush was in full swing when Captain Hayes returned to Sydney after the sale of the Launceston barque. With cash from his share of the profits, Hayes decided to become a theatrical entrepreneur and to take a troupe of variety artists from Sydney to entertain the diggers on the Otago goldfields. the troupe, known as the Buckingham Variety Company, had, as its leading lady, Rosa Buckingham, a young soprano. Rosa had four brothers in the troupe; they, with their mother, a widow, were well known as "the Buckingham family" of entertainers. bully also engaged a pair of comedians, Mr and Mrs Glogski, and three male vaudeville performers. As manager, bully booked passages for the artists in a coal barque, the Cincinnati, 445 tons, Captain Ryde. She sailed from Sydney on 6th July 1862, bound for Newcastle to load a cargo of coal, thence to Otago, New Zealand. The accommodation in the collier was far from comfortable. Bully had only been able to get berths in her because passengers who had previously booked had refused to accept the berths offered.

From this innocent set of circumstances an enterprising reporter scented a new Bully Hayes story. he sent a telegram from Sydney to the Melbourne Age, which printed it on 9th September 1862. "The notorious Captain Hayes," said the article, "with the barque Cincinnati, visited Sydney, and after engaging passengers for Otago, and receiving their passage money, sailed away without a single passenger." No Sydney newspaper published this story, which was full of false suggestions. Captain Hayes was not the master of the Cincinnati, but only a passenger. It would not have been possible for the barque to leave Sydney if her agents had not refunded the passage money to those who had declined to sail in her because of the accommodation. She made only a short run to Newcastle from Sydney, where she was loading coal when the cock and bull story appeared in the Melbourne Age. She was cleared out of Newcastle on 13th September with Hayes and the Buckingham Variety Company on board, and arrived at Otago Harbour oh 23rd September 1862.

Sad to relate, the Age with the story of Bully's supposed shenanigans had reached Otago before him. there an enterprising reporter from the Otago Daily Times, waylaid the wandering ship-master for an interview. that newspaper published, on 24th September 1862, a contemptuous denial by Bully. But denials never fully overtake libels, and the legend of Bully Hayes's rascality had received another boost. Robert Gilkison, in his Early Days in Otago, says that on the voyage from Newcastle the Cincinnati met heavy seas, was severely strained, and lost part of her cargo on the voyage, "but by dint of keeping all hands on the pumps, she succeeded in reaching the port of Otago" (now Dunedin). The arrival of the ship with twenty passengers was recorded in the Otago Daily Times. But it proved the last resting place of the Cincinnati, for, having been strained with the voyage and grounding on a bank, she was condemned by the shipping authorities, and thereafter she was tied up to the jetty at Port Chalmers and put to menial uses as a coal-hulk.

Gilkison's book described the doings on the goldfields of Arrow Town, and gave William Henry Hayes the lion's share of publicity. Gilkison likened Hayes to Lambro, a character in Byron's Don Juan, who was "a sort of fisherman".

Arrow Town, at first called "Fox's Diggings" and later "Arrow", with a lively spot, according to Gilkison. It was "known as the place where the reign of law and order had least control. the wildest of all wild diggers gathered here. Dancing saloons, drinking shanties, and gambling hells flourished." Because of the richness of the early gold finds, and the difficulties of getting to it, Arrow Town was a hell on earth in its early days. Licences were issued by the police at the start, but the situation soon got out of hand, despite a Police Notice in the Lake Wakatip Mail requesting diggers to pay them a visit, a plea which was ignored. "Among the flotsam and jetsam from the oceans of the world thrown up on the beach at Arrow Creek there was no more notorious wanderer than Captain William Henry Hayes. This buccaneer had an unsavoury reputation throughout the Pacific. A big, powerful man of pleasant exterior and attractive manners, a clever navigator and an astute financier, he was also a prince of rogues. By long experience in shady ways he had acquired considerable dexterity in avoiding the grasp of the law. The Stars and Stripes had saved him from many a tight corner." In other words, Hayes had discovered that British authorities cannot prosecute an American who commits crimes in non-British lands.

"A favourite habit of Hayes's was to lay in stores and purchase cattle at a port and depart without paying. If neccessary, he would take the pilot with him. A more evil habit was that of persuading some good-looking woman to come on board, and then, 'once aboard the lugger', he would set sail and carry her with him." Gilkison now quotes a story about hayes which has been repeated by many writers of South Pacific yarns. Here is Gilkison's version: "Although he had never been known to take life, his methods showed him to be entirely oblivious of the rights of other people, and they certainly more nearly approached those of a pirate than of an honest merchant skipper. A notable example of his taking ways is the story of his treatment of the Chinese coolies - a tale which, though not confirmed by official papers, is probably true. Hayes had undertaken to carry to Australia a few hundred Chinese, and besides their fare he was given a sum of 10 pounds for each, to be paid to the Custom officer as Poll Tax. When Hayes got near port he presented that his ship was in distress, and hoisted signals for help. When a tug came out, Hayes said he would try to take the ship in to port if the tug master would look after the Chinese.

"'Never mind me,' Hayes piously shouted to the tug master, 'only think of those poor perishing passengers.'" Gilkison's yarn continues: "The coolies were duly placed on board the tug, and soon after, Hayes and his ship slipped out to sea in the dark, carrying with him all the poll-tax money, which, it is hardly necessary to say, never reached the Government."

Many years ago, when I began collecting material about Bully Hayes, I had a great pal, Bart Adamson, a Tasmanian. Bart, besides writing poetry, was an able short-story writer with an amazing imagination. He had a permanent job of writing a weekly thriller for Smith's Weekly, a best selling newspaper which catered for all classes. Bar, since deceased, wrote under the pseudonym of "The Man in the Mask". His stories always ended with a punch line. One week a story by him appeared with the title, "A Cargo of Chinese". It told how the barque Launceston set sail for Melbourne with a cargo of Chinese. "The skipper was extremely neat in his dress, whereas the cargo, consisting of eighty coolies from Shanghai, was wrapped in rags. He was well-fed; they were merely skin and bone. He had collected fifty sovereigns a head from them, and for that payment had contracted to land them in Melbourne."

After a long voyage down the China Sea, protracted by adverse winds and perverse clams, the Launceston reached Bass Strait. "South of Cape Otway the barque had spent two whole days becalmed. Then a light breeze had sprung up, carried her a few miles into the night, and left her again glued to a glassy sea. next morning the Launceston found herself only half a mile from another clipper, similarly becalmed. For several hours they remained staring at each other, across what seemed a few yards of water, when the captain of the clipper decided to have a yarn, and, he hoped, a drink or three. It was his hobby." A boat was lowered from the clipper, and soon the skipper of the clipper - names not stated - was climbing the Jacob's Ladder of the Launceston, where he was given a hearty welcome. The skipper of the Launceston, though a teetotaller, was happy to quench the thirst of his visitor with rum. As they yarned the clipper-skipper learnt that the Launceston had a cargo of coolies for the goldfields of Victoria. The year was 1861, when gold was then as now in great demand. When the rum-swigging clipper-skipper heard about the cargo of coolies, he looked serious, and pointed out to his hose that there would be trouble in landing the Chinese in Melbourne. He declared that there was a poll-tax of one hundred pounds a head on them.

The skipper of the Launceston was dismayed. This was the first he had heard of such an obstacle. It meant a hopeless loss on the trip, instead of a good profit. But the rum-happy clipper-skipper had an idea. "Sail in close to a lonely stretch of the coast and tell the cargo to swim for it," he suggested. The skipper of the Launceston pointed out that most of the Chinese would be unable to swim, and if any got ashore and reported the affair, there would be something like a charge of murder. The clipper-skipper, who seemed to be a bit of a murderer, now advised the skipper of the Launceston to sail well out to sea, and dump the cargo overboard where it would have no chance of swimming ashore. but that suggestion found even less favour with the skipper of the Launceston, who appeared to be a bit of a gentleman. After a boozy farewell the skipper of the clipper sailed away, leaving the skipper of the Launceston to ponder over the problem of the poll-tax.

A breeze sprang up, and slowly the Launceston forged her way towards Port Phillip Heads. As she got closer to land, a schooner was sighted making for the same destination. then the skipper got an idea. Setting the pumps to work, he began filling the for'ard hold with water, giving the Launceston a dangerous list. As the schooner came closer, the barque hoisted a signal of distress, and when she was within hailing distance the skipper of the Launceston told the captain of the schooner that he was in trouble. His vessel had sprung a leak, and though the pumps were still working they could not cope with it. He was afraid they would founder before they could reach port. he was concerned about the Chinese, his passengers. he had not enough boats to take them ashore, and worse still was the question of profit. he declared that he would not be paid till he had delivered them safely, and at fifty pounds a head they were even more valuable than the barque. For both humane and business reasons, therefore, the first consideration must be the passengers. Eventually the two skippers struck a bargain. The skipper of the Launceston agreed to pay the captain of the schooner ten pounds a head for every Chinese landed safely in Melbourne. After that the schooner would return, and if the barque had not already foundered, would tow her into port. All hands on both vessels were busy, the eighty emaciated Chinese, happy to escape death, were transferred to the schooner, which was soon under way heading for Melbourne, twenty miles distant.

Concludes "The Man in the Mask": "As soon as the schooner was out of sight-range, the head of the barque Launceston was swung round and, with Port Phillip astern, it moved off, gaining speed as it became righted, and so away leaving the captain of the schooner to discuss poll-tax in Melbourne as best he might, and to write off salvage as a bad debt."

The story has a typical "Man in the Mask" ending: "It was a much simpler way out of a difficulty than trying to dump eighty Chinese in the ocean. this, indeed, would have been an atrocity worthy of Bully Hayes at his worst, whereas, for both rascality and resourcefulness, the ruse adopted by the skipper of the Launceston was worthy of Bully Hayes at his best. that is explained in part by the fact that he was Bully Hayes!" After I read this story by Bart Adamson, I asked him where he had found it, pointing out that despite all my researches into the legends of Bully Hayes I was unable to verify this yarn. the only thing in it that I could be sure of was that Bully Hayes had at one time commanded the barque Launceston. Bart Adamson, months later, told me that he had read Gilkison's yarn, and decided to improve on it by including a few names. So the yarns about bully Hayes multiply as the years sail by, until eventually they are accepted as part of the lore and legend of Australia.

Back to Robert Gilkison's Early Days of Otago, where we left Bully Hayes on the beach. Says Gilkison: "The versatile skipper, finding himself without a boat, joined the Buckingham family of entertainers, who had arrived as passengers in his ship." My researches show that Hayes had joined the Buckinghams in new South Wales, long before his arrival with them on the Cincinnati in Otago Harbour. "As the versatile skipper was gifted with unlimited sang-froid, imaginative and histrionic power, he might have proved an illustrious success had he been satisfied permanently to exchange the boards of his ship for those of the stage." The Buckinghams gave their "chaste and elegant programme" twice in Dunedin at the Theatre royal, but apparently with little success, since on 16th October 1862 several actors headed by Mr and Mrs Clarence Holt, gave the Buckinghams a benefit. the family, with Captain Hayes, then set off to tour the province and the goldfields.

Their fortunes improved, and they were getting crowded houses at the United States Hotel Saloon in the prosperous township of the Dunstan. "Thence they proceeded to Fox's, a new township just coming into being. The Buckinghams, finding money plentiful and gold abundant, decided to open an hotel there, and before long the affluent diggers were thronging the canvas saloon, where by day they could assuage their thirst, and by night indulge in the service of the Muses with dancing, singing, and play-acting." It was then, says Gilkison, that the artful Hayes spied his opportunity. why should not he open a hotel, too, and draw in for himself the roaring profits obtainable? And so he built himself a house of sods with walls eight feet high and a frame roof of saplings, laid in a store of liquor, employed dancing girls for the saloon, "and to cap all, married Rosa Buckingham, one of the stars of the rival house".

Despite diligent research, I have not been able to find any official record of this bigamous marriage. Competition between Hayes and the Buckinghams grew intense. The miners who sympathised with the Buckinghams joined in to make things merrier. One of them raked out an old story to the effect that Hayes had been caught cheating at cards in California, and as a penalty one of his ears had been cut off by a crowd of enraged players. (The Sydney Morning Herald, you may recall, said his ear had been bitten off). "Now," says Gilkison, "Hayes always wore long locks on the side of his head, so the burning question in Arrow Town was, what deformity did the locks conceal? A reward of 5 pounds was offered by the Buckinghams to anyone who would cut off the long locks, and a crowd of partisans hung about watching an opportunity. At last came the chance one day when Bully Hayes was being shaved. the barber snipped off the curls, and lo, it appeared that the notorious skipper had only one ear!"

It is hard to credit that any barber would be gave to lop the curls from the head of a man who was a renowned all-in fist-and-boot fighter. "The Buckinghams as artists made the most of the story, and introduced the incident as part of their performance in the hotel saloon at ten shillings a head. Hayes would have stopped it by main force, but diggers hate a cheat, and the number of supporters of the opposing factions were powerful." On 2nd May 1863 the Lake Wahitip Mail printed the following advertisement:

Gilkson quotes a report from the Arrow correspondent, dated 5th May 1863, that "there is great rivalry between the two theatres, and one evening Captain Hayes "thinking the bellman rather too personal in his remarks', had him arrested. he is now out on bail. Hence originated the farce, The Barbarous Barber, or The Lather and the Shave."

by this time, because continued floods had washed out the diggings and the miners were departing, Bully Hayes was in financial trouble. Court records show that in January three summonses were issued against him for debt or damages. Gilkison lists these and other troubles. On 22nd May, the Arrow correspondent states that, because of deterioration in the value of property, "the Prince of Wales Hotel and Theatre, which (were it paid for) could not have cost less than from 250 pounds to 300 pounds, was sold by auction for 75 pounds". On 8th June the Lake Wakatip Mail records a gale which unroofed both Hayes's and Buckingham's hotels as well as two others.

On 20th June, however, "Warden Bethan, Secretary of the goldfields, recommends that William Henry Hayes be granted an extension of time for his licensed house, the Prince of Wales Hotel." the Registrar-General at Wellington, New Zealand, has sent me a certificate of the birth of a baby girl named Adalaida Eudora to Rosa Hayes, maiden name Buckingham, and William Henry Hayes, settler, at Riverton on 11th July 1863. Over a century ago Riverton was a whaling port, twenty-four miles west of Invercargill, at the bottom tip of New Zealand. Robert Gilkison gives a brief history of the Otago goldfields in the days when Bully Hayes made his mark there. during the year ended 31st July 1862 gold returns were valued at nearly 2,000,000 pounds. Total gold exports from the discoveries in 1861 to 1927 were over 92,000,000 pounds. In December 1861 there were over ten thousand miners working, and it was estimated that another three thousand were moving from place to place. "The days of the rushes were over in 1864. gold-mining had become a settled industry. those remaining had acquired comfortable homes, and in many cases were engaged in both mining and farming, and today the story of the rushes and the influx of diggers and the gold they won is only a tale that is told."

Four years had passed since Hayes had sailed from San Francisco in the Ellenita, leaving his lawful wedded wife, Amelia, on shore. He now had, for all practical purposes, two wives, both known as Mrs Hayes. He was not the first, nor will he be the last man in history to be in that position. In love, as in business, he thought he could beat the game, but fate now took a hand in that game in a singularly tragic way. ***There are gaps in the record of Captain Hayes, but it appears that he returned from new Zealand to Newcastle early in 1864 and there bought a small brigantine, the Black Diamond, which was in service as a collier. The Black Diamond was of only 88 tons register. Part of her purchase price was obtained by a mortgage on her, advanced by a trustful Sydney merchant. Hayes now had a secret plan, which was completely unprincipled. He was not in the strict sense a barrator, since the crime of barratry is defined as action by a shipmaster prejudicial to the interests of the owner. Like most rogues, Hayes had a way of repeating his pattern of roguery. His technique was not to defraud the owner - for he was himself the owner - but to defraud the mortgagee of a vessel he owned, by defaulting on payments of interest and then removing the vessel to some place where foreclosure on the mortgage would be difficult or impossible.***

*** The following text gives the details of Captain Hayes's experience with the
Black Diamond:

"Hayes purchased a small brigantine, the Black Diamond, at Newcastle, and planned to return to Nelson, collect the other members of the Buckingham Family entertainers and then depart for China.

Instead of sailing directly to Nelson, Hayes went first to Croisilles Harbour. While the brig was being loaded with firewood, on 19 August 1864, he borrowed a five ton sailing yacht and with Rosa, George, the baby, and a 15-year-old nursemaid, Mary Cowley, set out across the bay to visit a nearby farm. About a mile and a half from the shore they were hit by a sudden squall and the boat capsized. With the exception of Hayes himself, who somehow managed to struggle ashore, everyone was drowned." http://www.dnzb.govt.nz/dnzb/alt_essayBody.asp?essayID=1B43

When purchasing and mortgaging the Black Diamond, Hayes informed the mortgagee that his intention was to engage in the coal trade between Newcastle and the port of Nelson in the South Island of New Zealand. He had taken with him to Sydney his de facto wife Rosa, with her baby, and her brother, George Buckingham. Apparently there had been a reconciliation with the Buckingham family. They had all travelled as passengers crossing the Tasman Sea. the remainder of the Buckingham Variety Company remained in New Zealand, awaiting their return. It seems likely that Rosa and George bought costumes and other theatrical properties in Sydney. The secret intention was that Hayes would take the whole company in the Black Diamond from New Zealand to China, on a theatrical tour, without notifying the mortgagee of that destination. The rendezvous was at the port of Nelson in New Zealand. The loading of a cargo of coal for that port was only a pretext to throw coal-dust in the eyes of the mortgagee in Sydney.

Into the picture again come our old friends Captain and Mrs Allen, last heard from in Maitland. Says Mrs Allen: "We saw nothing of Hayes till June 1864, when I was astonished to learn that the little schooner Black Diamond, of 70 tons, was commanded by my old acquaintance, W.H. Hayes." The Black Diamond was lying astern of the William Watson, of which Captain Allen was Master, at Newcastle. Says Mrs Allen: "I saw he had his wife on board and that the wife was a very young woman, and had a nice little baby." Hayes spoke to Captain Allen and wanted very badly to bring his wife and child to see Mrs Allen, but she declined. On 19th June 1864 the William Watson and the Black Diamond sailed from Newcastle, and Mrs Allen never saw Hayes again.

The Black Diamond could only carry a hundred tons of cargo. Having loaded this quantity of coal, and with a crew of four seamen, Captain Hayes sailed for Nelson. with him as passengers were Rosa and her baby, also her brother George, and a nurse-girl, Mary Cowley, who was to be trained to join the troupe on a tour to China. The Newcastle Chronicle of 23rd June 1864 reports the departure of the schooner Black Diamond, 88 tons, Hayes master, cargo 60 tons of coal, 19th June 1864, for Brisbane. It further states that on 17th June the four members of the crew, Joseph Mitcheson, Antony Hall, William Bird, and Peter Alserton, were charged with being absent without leave. they pleaded not guilty, on the ground that the vessel was unseaworthy. "The magistrate adjourned the case for the purpose of having the ship examined, but in the meantime Hayes had obtained a fresh crew, and taking advantage of the favourable weather he left for Brisbane."

But Hayes was not heading for Brisbane. Instead, we read in the Auckland Southern Cross of 4th July that "The brigantine Black Diamond arrived in Auckland yesterday, from Newcastle, N.S.W. On 22nd June she encountered the cyclone previously reported by the Alarm and Amazon, and which proved so destructive to the latter. Captain Hayes consequently kept his ship before the wind, and steered for this port. The gale lasted there days, during which she lost her fore-topsail, mainsail, and fore-topmast-stay sail. "during one part of the gale there were 3.1/2 feet of water in the hold." The Auckland New Zealander of the same date states that the Black Diamond was originally bound for Nelson, but after a disagreement between the captain and the crew, the captain got under way without them, and with three passengers and his mate he brought her to Auckland. No news of Bully for a couple of weeks, until a story about him appeared in the Southern Cross of 19th July 1864, headed "Paying with the Topsail". It appeared that "a brigantine called the Black Diamond arrived in this port a fortnight ago with coals from New3castle. She was brought in this miserable-looking craft, which he succeeded in navigating over from Newcastle, was very small, not amounting to more than 100 pounds worth. These were sold through his agent, and the balance coming to him, some 30 pounds odd, handed over to him the middle of last week."

While in Auckland, according to this report, Bully let it be known that he would not be sailing for several days. Meanwhile he ran up accounts with Thwaites Henderson and Company, shipbuilders, for caulking seams and other repairs, 20 pounds; with Owen and Fendelow, ironmongers, 33 pounds; with Oliver and Son, clothiers, 8 pounds. He had also borrowed 9 pounds from a passenger on the Black Diamond, and there were other amounts owing, including the cost of water on board. After Hayes cleared from Auckland there was a hue and cry by his creditors for their cash, but the Black Diamond had vamoosed. The total sum of Bully's liabilities was not sufficient to cause widespread ruin to the citizens of Auckland, but this was another breach of faith of the kind that made the vamooser's name detested.

Captain Hayes navigated the brigantine towards Nelson, but when nearing that port, decided not to put in there. Instead, he made for Croixelles Bay, a secluded haven with fiord-like arms extending into forested country which, at that time, had only a few white settlers. Here the Black Diamond lay in a fiord for three weeks, while her crew caulked her seams, and loaded a cargo of firewood, ostensibly for the galley, but intended by Hayes as ballast for his run to China, and as a cargo which could be profitably sold at Hong Kong or some other port along the China coast. Then fate struck again, this time with a real tragedy. On 19th August Captain Hayes borrowed a five-ton sailing yacht from a settler named Askew in Croixelles Bay, to make a visit to Mrs Askew's station. Hayes at this time was thirty-five years of age. He took with him in the yacht, rosa, aged twenty, her baby, Adalaida Eudora, aged fourteen months, George Buckingham, aged twenty-three, and the nurse-maid, Mary Cowley, aged fifteen. The story of the voyage was told by Mr Arthur Elmsley; a settler from Honorua, French Pass, to the editor of the Colonist, a newspaper published at Nelson. Mr Elmsley had the story from Captain Hayes. "When about a mile and a half from the shore one of those sudden squalls to which the locality is liable struck the boat, causing the boom to spring up to the masthead, and capsizing the vessel, which went down by the stern."

The account given in the Colonist of 9th September 1864 continues: "The maid was drowned by the boat's side and sank rapidly; the captain's brother-in-law swam seaward, towards one of the numerous islands which stud the Croixelles Harbour. Captain Hayes, who is a large powerful man, and a splendid swimmer, stuck out shorewards, supporting himself on two oars, and holding up his wife with one hand and his child by the other. In this way he swam for the shore, slowly and laboriously, being embarrassed by the oars, which being under water impeded his progress. Very soon the poor baby died, which the captain perceiving, he kissed the body and dropped it, giving his whole attention to his wife, and encouraging her to cling to him. he endeavoured to support her on his shoulder, and after struggling on for some time longer he felt her lose hold, but he still held up her head by the hair, but soon after on turning round found that she too was dead. This was after they had been, the captain supposes, about an hour and a half in the water.

"He let go the body and regained one of the oars which had slipped from his grasp, and after some further painful exertion, he got to the rocks. After landing he believes he must have become insensible, had some indistinct remembrance of climbing a hill, and then falling down; but he must have got up again, for he was seen from the deck of a vessel to throw up his hands. A boat-hand, not knowing who it was, was sent off to him and took him on board greatly exhausted, and much bruised all over his body, his muscles swollen and painful. He was so weak by the exertion and exposure that he was unable to speak, until next morning.

"The body of the child was picked up on the Croixelles Boulder Bank and taken on board the vessel, but none of the other three bodies had been found when Mr Elmsley left. One additional sad fact in connection with this mournful occurrence is the circumstance that the deceased young man, Buckingham, was the only support of five young brothers and sisters in Canterbury." In the same issue of the Colonist, the story continues: "Police Constable Mayo, who was dispatched to the Croixelles to inquire into this deplorable accident, and make arrangements to search for the bodies, returned to Nelson on 31st August, accompanied by Captain Hayes, the owner of the brigantine Black Diamond, whose wife, child, brother-in-law and maidservant were drowned by the sinking of Mr Askew's yacht in a squall on Friday, 19th August." The body of the baby was disinterred in the presence of a number of witnesses, but the three other bodies were never found. The yacht was raised by the crew of the Black Diamond, and in it was found the coat of George Buckingham.

Dear Sir - I should feel obliged if you can insert a letter of thanks from me to the settlers of the Croixelles, who assisted me in a most kind and hospitable manner, after the unhappy and most lamentable loss of my wife, child, brother-in-law and servant - during the late gale, and upsetting of our boat at the Croixelles.

The names of these I feel especially grateful to are Mr and Mrs Alexander Rankin, and Mr McLaren - to whom I shall fee for ever grateful for their kind assistance rendered upon this occasion. I am,
Sir, yours sincerely,

H.W. HAYES,

Master of the Black Diamond.

Nelson, 1st September 1864.

The tragedy of the Croixelles gave publicity to the whereabouts of the Black Diamond. the brigantine lay at anchor in the remote fiord for a week more. Back in Sydney, the mortgagee, who had not received any payment of interest on his loan, had sent authority to his agents in Nelson, Messrs N. Edwards and Company, to seize the vessel and to sell her. The Nelson Colonist of September 1864 reported that it was known that the Black diamond was lying in some part of Croixelles Harbour, loading timber. To get there, armed with legal authority for her seizure, before she left the colony, was the object to be accomplished. Mr. W. Akerstein of Nelson undertook the difficult task. he selected a whale-boat's crew of six stout fellows, who were sworn in as special constables

The boat was towed by the Lyttelton steamer down to Croixelles Bay, which was reached in the evening, but there was no sign of the Black Diamond. the crew rowed about the harbour and into various nooks for about six hours, until at last, about three o'clock in the morning, they came on the brigantine. She was lying at anchor near the top of the harbour, in a sheltered spot almost hidden from outward observation. The rowing boats approached cautiously, and the brigantine was quickly boarded by Mr Akerstein and his men, all hands being below in their berths. "Captain Hayes first made his appearance on deck, inquiring in brief but emphatic language to what he was indebted for the honour of such an early morning call. Mr Akenstein promptly explained his mission, and demanded payment of the sum named in the mortgage deed, or the possession of the ship." The money was not forthcoming, because it was not there. Bully Hayes dared the visitors to seize the vessel. Mr. Akerstein ordered his six stalwart constables to man the windlass. An axe was produced and wielded by one of Bully's men, but after a word from Mr Akerstein the axe was hurled into the placid waters of the harbour, and the flourisher pinioned and made harmless until he promised good behaviour.

The captain completed, the anchor was hove up, sails set, and within thirty hours from the time Mr Akerstein and his crew left Nelson on the mission of seizure the Black Diamond was lying securely at anchor there. Later, on 30th September 1864, Captain Hayes was sued for 17 pounds by James Pawson, a labourer, for payment of wages for cutting firewood and doing other work on the Black Diamond. Several other men laid claims for wages for cutting firewood at ten shillings a day, and for their food. The judge deemed their claims excessive, and allowed them two-thirds of the amount claimed. Next came John till, the first mate, who sued for 76 pounds, being wages and money lent to Hayes. The story of the claims was told in the Nelson Colonist of 30th September 1864. After evidence in which Hayes admitted that he had falsified the log-book by throwing overboard the original book and writing a new one after the seizure of the vessel on behalf of the mortgagee, the owners were found liable to the plaintiff in the sum of 72 pounds 10 shillings, being one-half the amount claimed, with costs."

The Nelson Colonist also printed a letter signed by W. Turner, asking "how it was that a poor man in the province of Nelson could not get justice". turner was one of the men who cut firewood for Bully Hayes during their stay in Croixelles Bay. He stated that he had applied to the Resident Magistrate to obtain a warrant for the arrest of Hayes to prevent him absconding from the colony, until he paid him, on the grounds that Hayes intended to sail by the Phoebe, which he did on the Sunday Morning, the day after he, Turner, had urged the Magistrate to grant the warrant. While these recriminations were going on, the Nelson Colonist printed some scathing articles about Hayes. As a result the indignant captain visited the office of the Colonist to see the editor, Mr D.M. Luckie. the editor was not in, but Mr. W.T. Bond was. Hayes produced a whip from beneath his coat, and said, "It was just as well the editor was not in, as I had intended to give him a damned good hiding for what had been written about me in the paper." After that incident, Mr Luckie carried a heavy walking stick, but he did not encounter Hayes.

We now return to Hayes on board the Phoebe for Lyttelton, where he joined the Buckingham troupe, who evidently did not consider him responsible for the tragedy in Croixelles Bay. Next we hear of him on the cutter Wve, which cleared from Lyttelton in ballast on 5th Nov3mber 1864, bound for Akaroa. Passengers were Captain Hayes, Mr and Mrs Glongski, W. Buckingham, E. Buckingham, J. Strang, and J.E. Chalmers. The Wave arrived at Akaroa on 8th November 1864, and a day later, on the Prince of Wales' birthday, an entertainment was given at the Town Hall, Akaroa, by a company of performers calling themselves "The Buckingham Family". A large audience testified by their applause that they were pleased with the actors. Mr A.T. Saunders, who has done a lot of research on Hayes, fails to say how that elusive character became master of the Wave after being down and out at Nelson. Saunders notes that Hayes evidently did not stay long with the variety troupe, for on 19th December 1864 the "Wave, 10 tons, Hayes master, arrived from Akaroa at Lyttelton in ballast."

The story of Bully's doings in this part of the world is next told in the New Zealander of 1st February 1865 Headlined "The Black Diamond Again", the report stated that "the notorious W.H. Hayes has turned up in a new character." The story of the drowning fatalities in the harbour of Croixeltes was then repeated, with an account of Hayes's escape in the Black Diamond, after outfitting that unlucky vessel at the expense of some Auckland firms. The main part of their story, however, was taken from the Marlborough Times of 20th January 1865, where it had appeared under the heading "Abduction". "A most heartless case of abduction was a few days ago brought under the notice of one of the Picton, New Zealand, Justices, but under the peculiar circumstances of the case he was unable to afford any redress to the injured party. "

"It appears that Hayes, commander of the cutter Wave, put in last month at Akaroa, where in a hotel he met Helen Murray, aged sixteen, a native of Ireland, well educated and intelligent. Helen, who had lost both parents, was prevailed on by Hayes, by fraud and persuasion, to go with him in the Wave to Lyttelton, for the purpose, he falsely stated, of there joining several other girls whom he had engaged to go to China as part of a theatrical company he was then organizing." Hayes informed her "that those females were aboard his ship at Lyttelton, and that Mr Chalmers was to instruct her and the others in all that was necessary to fit them to appear on the stage". The rosy picture painted by Hayes of a bright future overseas induced Helen to board the Wave, which later sailed for Lyttelton. "Hayes, however, had no intention of visiting that port, and stood on for Pegasus Bay. Mr Chalmers left the craft there, and proceeded to Lyttelton. After his departure Mr John till and Mr Frederick Sievewright joined the cutter, and she sailed for Nelson."

John Till, it will be recalled, had sued Hayes in Nelson for 76 pounds owing for wages, and a private loan. Till held a master mariner's certificate, and had for many years commanded a ship sailing between India and ?England. till stated that after he boarded the Wave he noticed that "Hayes was most attentive to the young woman, Helen Murray, but that she studiously avoided him. She had begged to be put ashore in Pegasus Bay, but Hayes would not do it. Because of bad weather the Wave was obliged to take shelter at a whaling station near East Cape, where they remained for two days. Again Helen asked to be put ashore, but Hayes would not allow her. He did promise to send her back from Nelson to Lyttelton, and the weather moderating, they again set sail." The apartment in which Hayes slept below, and a similar one for the two men forward, was the only shelter which the cutter afforded, but all Hayes's persuasions and entreaties could not induce Helen Murray to share it with him.

Said John Till: "During wet and stormy nights she remained on deck, and when waves were washing over the cutter she sometimes clung to the mast. during a temporary lull she would cling to one of the men entreating him to save her. The days she spent in crying and sobbing, and the nights in terror and anxiety, wet and cold." By now the conduct of Hayes towards her had undergone a change. He treated her cruelly, using threatening language, from which he would frequently deviate by inducements to go below. "This was the position," said John till, "when the Wave entered Tory Channel and anchored near Jackson's whaling station for one night. She sailed next day with a head wind and heavy sea, but was driven back, and obliged to anchor under Long Island, near Mr Hebberley's pilot station. "That night Hayes lost all command of himself and determined that the girl should go below or he would put her ashore. He dragged her most violently and eventually lifted her in a boat to take her ashore, after tearing off all her clothes. The night was wet and cold, and with a view to compel her to go on board again on his terms he represented her to the pilot as a character that no respectable man would admit into his house."

By this time Till and Sievewright had reached the pilot station, and contradicted what Hayes had said. They also refused to embark on the Wave with Hayes, who then persuaded Hebberley, the pilot, to help him bring the cutter to Picton for the purpose of engaging a couple of deck-hands. She arrived at Picton on 13th January and sailed again for Nelson five days later. While Bully was at Nelson, Till, Sievewright, and Helen Murray arrived at Picton, where Till proceeded to the government offices to report the case to a justice of the peace. Hayes was arrested. The incident of Bully Hayes's arrest was later recalled in the Nelson Mail in its report of the death of George Britt. Britt, it stated, was the only survivor of the boat's crew that sailed down Queen Charlotte's Sound in the late summer of 1865, armed with a warrant to arrest Hayes who was wanted for running off with a cutter from Akaroa, and for abducting a girl. The boat's crew comprised George Britt, Alfred Bragge, and Captain Hebberley, all of whom were sworn in as special constables. they were under the command of Constable Overend of Picton. When the warrant from Akaroa reached Constable Overend at Picton, he made inquiries around the Sound, and learnt that a strange craft had been seen anchored behind Pickersgill Island.

"Fortunately for their enterprise, Hayes had been put in his berth that night in a state of intoxication. He awoke from a drunken stuper to stare into the muzzle of constable Overend's revolver, and with Britt and Hebberley pinioning his arms. As usual, however, Hayes was clever enough to escape the meshes of the law. When released, he blustered that he would get the best lawyer in the colony, and commence an action for 500 pounds damages." Britt later said that Hayes hinted unsuccessfully, that "if they handed him back the cutter and stores he might be induced to let the action drop". Britt also said that "Hayes was a bad-looking man, a fine well-built man, but there was something strange about his eyes; you could not move without their following your slightest motion. One curious circumstance - that picturesque desperado had a pair of curling-tongs among the belongings in his cabin that were evidently in constant use." It was stated thatg Hayes had only one ear, as a result of cheating in a card game. The story was concluded in the Marlborough Times of 20th January 1865 with the sad remark: "Our legal machinery could only punish Hayes for a common assault if we could catch him, but in our opinion a Supreme Court would treat the case as one of abduction. Hayes has escaped for the present, and we are happy to say that Helen Murray was at once taken into the family of a gentleman at Picton, where she has a more suitable situation that that which she was induced to leave."

Before we move on to the next phase in the career of Hayes, I'd like to take a look at some of the statements made about him. Earlier in this narrative I told the story of the seizure of the Black Diamond in Croixelles Sound by William Akerstein, the Court Bailiff from Picton, in September 1864. After Akerstein's death, according to the editor of the Nelson Colonist, it was found that he had left "a large pile of notes re Hayes, but there is little value therein". Among the statements made in these notes were that "Hayes" was not bully Hayes's real name, that Hayes made a voyage to Sydney in the Sir Charles Napier in 1842, and that Hayes was jailed for forgery and was sent to Van Diemen's Land, where he remained from 1842 to 1848. Akerstein also suggested that Hayes was a survivor from the Madagascar, because he claimed that he was once in a boat with 500,000 pounds worth of gold and no food. According to the material quote here, the Madagascar, 952 tons, cleared from Melbourne on 12th August 1853 for London, "with 90 passengers, 86 boxes containing 64,660 ounces of gold and other cargo, and was never thereafter heard of". The Australian Encyclopaedia records the departure of the Madagascar, 1200 tons, a frigate-built ship, from Melbourne in August 1853, "with full complement of passengers and 70,000 ounces of gold, and was never heard of afterwards".

A.T. Saunders states that on 25th June 1853 the Canton, with Hayes on board, sailed from Rio de Janeiro in South America, and arrived at Melbourne on 25th August of that year. This was thirteen days after the Madagascar had sailed away, never to be heard of again. Mr Saunders quotes an article by an unknown journalist, as follows: "A judiciously written life of Bully Hayes, were the material available, might easily be made one of the most instructive books ever penned. As a study of psychology and the influence of heredity, it would have its merits; well-meaning parents might gain some useful hints on the evils of unwise training; but its strongest lessons would probably be on the futility of brutal legal punishment and the foolishness of society in endowing persons which are only universities of crime." It would be interesting to know whether bully's unknown defender really knew anything of his early life, or if he was just guessing when he continued: "The law once got a firm grip of bully Hayes in his salad days; it treated him brutally for a comparatively venial offence, and if it did not beat every spark of humanity out of him, it was because of some inherent goodness in the man, and his saving grave of humour. His name was neither Hayes nor Hayston, and it is to his credit that he did not drag it through the dirt."

Comments Mr Saunders on Hayes: "One point must strike every thoughtful reader; the futility of all his cleverness. A man of the most exceptional ability, he was often stranded without a stiver in his pockets. After the capture of the Black Diamond he had to borrow money to buy a pair of boots - all his energies it seemed, were bent on revenging himself on that society that had outraged him."

Mr Saunders's life of bully Hayes is again our chief source of information for the next phase of that crooked mariner's wanderings. After the affair of Helen Murray, bully crossed Cook Strait to Wellington. "Here, on 1st February 1865, the smooth-talking sailor was registered as the sole owner of the Shamrock, a schooner of 71 tons register, and furthermore the vessel was not mortgaged." Where Hayes obtained the 500 pounds or more to buy the Shamrock is a mystery, but, says Mr Saunders, "one of the New Zealand papers tells a story of how a lady known as the 'Bull Pup' once financed Hayes to the purchase of a schooner, and perchance this was when she did so". The Shamrock sailed from New Zealand for the South Sea Islands in February 1865, and left Fiji on the return voyage to New Zealand on 5th May. She arrived at Lyttelton on 19th May with several passengers, 60,000 oranges, 4000 lemons, assorted coconuts, a shipment of pigs, and a bundle of souvenirs consigned to W.H. Hayes himself no less.

The Shamrock stayed in Lyttelton for some weeks until "in July 1865, during a gale, she broke away from her holding tackle. But the mate made sail, and proceeded down the harbour until he got shelter of the land below Rhodes Bay." At last, on 26th July 1865, the Shamrock sailed again for the South Seas. Bully was short of cash after his long stay in Lyttelton, and mortgaged his vessel to Hargreaves Brothers for 33 pounds at twelve per cent interest. Besides being broke, Bully Hayes on the day of his departure had something else on his mind - a marriage. Unless Amelia was dead or divorced by this time, it was a bigamous marriage. Hayes stated that he was a widower. A certified copy of the entry of marriage (No. 319) in my possession gives the information that on 26th July 1865 at the Royal Hotel, Christchurch, Lyttelton District, William Henry Hayes, aged thirty-three, Master Mariner, married Emily butler, aged twenty-one, Spinster. Witnesses: Albert Cuff, Royal Hotel, Hotelkeeper,a nd John Coker, Criterion Hotel, Hotelkeeper.

I do not know whether Hayes took his bride to the South Seas for their honeymoon, but it is more than likely, because he seldom travelled anywhere without a woman friend. Further news of Hayes was told in the Wanganui Times of 27th March 1866, when "the schooner Shamrock from the Fiji Islands anchored outside the heads. Captain Hayes, unwilling to lose time, attempted to land his passengers by means of a small boat unsuited for that purpose. In it were the mate and six passengers. On approaching the surf, a Maori woman passenger told the mate that the boat would be swamped, and offered to swim on shore with him. She jumped overboard, and directly afterwards the boat upset. The woman exerted herself to save the mate, but failed. The four Europeans met a watery grave." Later news stated that Captain Hayes and a lady companion in a second boat safely crossed the bar and reached the shore. "Hayes and his companion stayed on shore on Sunday night, went on board and sailed Monday morning, but made no report at the Custom House of the four deaths."

The times of 30th March printed a letter from "E.T.": "It is generally rumoured that the captain of the Shamrock was warned that it was dangerous to put people ashore near the heads in such small craft. If such be the case, is he not guilty of having indirectly caused the death of the four unfortunate men who were drowned last Sunday?" I regret that I have not been able to pick u the trail of Hayes during the previous eight months between his departure from Lyttelton and the arrival at Wanganui. After the tragedy at Wanganui, Hayes headed for Lyttelton, where he arrived on Sunday, 2nd April 1866. "The Shamrock had been at Fiji and Tonga, and collected a cargo of 30,000 oranges, 20,000 lemons, 15,000 coconuts, hogs, canoes, oil, shell, war clubs, spears and house mats." The holds of the Shamrock must have been bursting at their seams with all these tropical products. The late Mr Saunders, who followed the tracks of bully Hayes over most of the Pacific Ocean, dug up a story published in the Auckland Weekly News of 18th December 1902, written by a Mr Parker, who lived at Eua, a small island nine miles south west of Nukualofa, Tonga, at the time of bully Hayes's visits in 1866.

Says Mr Parker: "A brig appeared in the offing, so we saddled our horses, and lost no time in seeing what she was. ships were few in those days, and seldom came to Eua except to ship wool. In May whalers used to come to buy provisions from the natives, go off again, and return to the harbour at Nukualofa. I have seen as many as twenty of their boats, with snow-white sails, within a mile of Eua beach, looking for whales, which used to swim close to the reef. At the time I write a skipper arrived who was very famous in the South Seas. Bully Hayes was his name." The writer continues: "A burly, fair-headed, good-looking man accosted me. 'You are Mr Parker, are you not?'" Mr Parker agreed, and the visitor said, "My name is Captain Hayes, and the ship you see anchored there is the Shamrock. I have just come from New Zealand, and after I have been to church we will have a yarn." Hayes and his companion were with two young women, Namu and Felicita. The two men were carrying the girls' Bibles, and they vanished into the shade of the cool thatched church, which looked curiously empty.

"What a decent-looking man!" said Parker to his friend. "But what in the world can he be carrying that woman's Bible for?" His friend replied, "I imagine he wants to make himself agreeable, but we will see more when he comes out." When Hayes returned with his companions he told Parker that he had met his cousin, Mr Sherbrooke, in Christchurch, where they played billiards at the club. "he sends his regards, also a letter for you." Parker was surprised to get this message. Later, when Hayes told them he was sailing to Nukualofa, Parker asked him for a passage. "I'll be very glad," said Hayes. It was agreed that they would leave next morning and Hayes with his friend rowed out to the Shamrock, leaving the girls behind. After their evening meal, Parker asked Kosi, his cook, why the natives would not sell food and provisions to Hayes. "Misa Parker," said Kosi, "Misa Hayes no good man. He was here twelve moons ago, and he behaved very badly." Kosi explained that Hayes on his previous visit to Nukualofa had got a lot of provisions and paid for most of them to His Majesty King George, the chief of the Tongan group. this done, he had tried to carry off a white girl who was visiting the island. In this he failed, so he went to Eua, and carried off two women there by force.

Hence, the chief was furious with Hayes, and he forbade all the Tongans on the various islands to sell any hogs, fruit or vegetables to Hayes. that night the two Bible-carrying girls, Namu and Felicita, swam out to the Shamrock where Hayes awaited them. the following morning Bully Hayes sent a boat for Mr Parker, "and we were rowed to the Shamrock. His wife, a rather nice-looking white girl was with him, also twin babies. The Shamrock looked as though care was taken of her, and she was scrupulously clean and tidy. We had a much better dinner than you generally get on board a trader." In the cabin were beautiful curios, consisting of helmets made from the red tail-feathers of the bo'sun bird, clubs, curious bowls and native carvings. "The pirate," said Parker, "gave us some of these, and presented me also with a pair of field-glasses, with which I was much delighted."

When Parker asked for the letter from his cousin the captain said, "I'll give it to you later. It is down in my locker." The Shamrock, aided by a light wind, reached Nukualofa that evening. Next morning Hayes went ashore, taking Parker with him. "We found an interpreter and passed into the presence of Tongan Royalty. Oh Jerusalem! How black it was! Not so much its skin, which, goodness knows, was dusky enough, but the expression of it!" The King spoke vigorously and the interpreter translated. "You can tell this man that he shall have nothing here. I have sent messages to all the people to sell him nothing, and he will not get a coconut from the island." Said the pirate, coolly, "How about water?" "Water!" said the King. "Tell him he can have water, but nothing else." Hayes, who was not short of water, replied, "The best thing I can do is to clear out." "And tell him, too, that were it not for my laws, which I respect so much, I would order my people to break him up."

Said Mr Parker, "The old gentleman looked so angry that I believe Hayes was cowed. In any case, he got into the boat and rowed off. The King's face changed after the pirate's departure, and he pulled out a bottle of brandy from under the Queen's bed." parker was pleased with this noble gesture, because he had thought that His Majesty was annoyed with him. suddenly he remembered that he had forgotten to get his cousin 's letter from bully Hayes. the King gave him a boat to row out to the shamrock, together with the village blacksmith, to whom bully owed some money for work done on his previous visit. The Shamrock had just tripped her anchor, and was gently moving when they arrived alongside. The pirate was laughing, and threw Parker curios and the field-glasses. "'And the letter,' I gasped. 'Here you are', and he smiled again as he threw it to me. 'Good-bye.'"

Shouted the blacksmith, "What about the pay for my ironwork?" "You and your ironwork can go to hell," was the answer. "If you attempt to climb up I will brain you and shove you overboard!" "Just then," said Parker, "above the Shamrock's taffrail popped the heads of Felicita and Namu, their mouths showing the white teeth in them, and grinning from ear to ear. They waved their tapa cloth and shouted, 'Good-bye! Good-bye!' and this was the last that the Friendly Islanders or I ever saw of Bully Hayes, Namu and Felicita. On the way to the shore, after condoling with the cursing and much-wronged blacksmith, I opened the letter which the pirate had smilingly tossed to me. My friend in Christchurch had been fool enough to entrust bully Hayes with 50 dollars for me." So ends the sad tale of Mr Parker of the Friendly Isles, alias Tonga who was bilked by Bully Hayes. It seems, however, that Parker's memory was at fault when he recalled these events in 1902. Hayes could not have visited Eua in the Shamrock with his wife and twin babies in 1866. the twins were born at Lyttelton on 2nd May 1866, and Hayes sold the Shamrock there the next day.

A few weeks later, on 28th May 1866, he purchased the brig Rona, 150 tons register, formerly the Anglo-Saxon, built at Falmouth, Maine, in 1850. Hayes financed this deal by mortgaging the Rona for 970 pounds to Ritchie and Hargreaves. According to Saunders, this money was never paid. "On 31st May 1866 the Rona, Hayes master, cleared from Lyttelton for Fiji." A passenger on this voyage was Mr E.J. Turpin, afterwards secretary to the British Consulate of Fiji and Tonga. The cargo of the Rona included forty cases of brandy, sixty cases of Geneva Gin, and many more items popular with white men in the South Seas. On 12th September 1866 the Rona was back at Lyttelton with a cargo of oranges and lemons for the fruit-lovers of New Zealand. On her next voyage she took supplies of drapery, flour, vegetables and preserved meat from New Zealand to Guam in the Spanish Islands.

At Hokitika, on the west coast of the South Island of New Zealand, Hayes pulled another smart trick. The Rona was anchored in the roadstead there on the morning of Friday, 28th December 1866, when a breeze sprang up, the anchor chain broke in the hawse pipe, and the Lioness towed the Rona inside. "On Saturday the cargo was sold by auction and, barring the fruit, fetched fair prices, the curios and mats being eagerly purchased." After Hayes was paid for his cargo, he cleared the Rona with the customs on New Year's Day, and went to sea in a hurry. He had only just got out of Hokitika when officials with authority to seize the Rona arrived. Says the West coast times of 4th January 1867: "Some potent attraction on shore must have influenced the movements of the brig Rona, for, although she sailed on Wednesday, she hung about the coast until yesterday, and then, after signalling the Lioness, took her departure. It is said that Hayes had lent his flags for New Year's decorations and waited for them. It is also said that Hayes stated that he had a few tons of gunpowder aboard, which he sold to the Maoris."

A different story of the Hokitika double cross is narrated by Edward Reeves in Brown Men and Women, published in 1898. After talking about the blackbirders of the South Seas, Reeves says that "the greatest of all these gentlemen was Bully Hayes. Imperfect sketches of him appear in A Modern Buccaneer, and other books; but they hardly touch the tragedies of his career. Those who knew most held their peace. The fact is, many of the island traders were either in complicity, or at least sympathised with his plunderings, and would not tell against him while he was alive. After he was gone their tongues wagged. Then was the time to learn the whole truth about him. Now the hour and the man have passed, and that rich mine of adventure, crime, and tragedy of a modern Satan in a southern paradise, can never be worked to fullest advantage."

Reeves continues: "I remember Hayes in New Zealand in the sixties. My experience of him was slight. It was not profitable; no one's ever was. I mention it to show that nothing came amiss to him. He enjoyed stealing a few pounds as much as seizing a merchant shi and making crew and passengers walk the plank. It must have been, as nearly as I can recollect, about the year 1864, that he dropped into Hokitika River with the brig Rona." Ree4ves is astray here, since Hayes did not accurate the Rona till 1866. The visit he describes is presumably that of December 1866, though the details differ from those given in Saunder's account. "He was a stout, bald, pleasant-looking man, of good manners, chivalrous, with a certain, or rather uncertain code of honour of his own; loyal to anyone who did him a good turn; gentle to animals, fond of all kinds of pets, especially of birds. Of these he had a number, and he treated them with tender care. He was never without some caressed favourites, and sauntered about Hokitika wharf followed in the most affectionate manner by three little white poodle dogs."

Reeves describes Hayes as "the Captain Starlight of the sea", and states that the Rona was fitted up with "a most luxurious saloon, where his two white wives sat, each with a child in her arms. Hayes knew well, when he ventured into the Hokitika River, that he was wanted in the more civilized part of New Zealand, but he felt perfectly safe here, for there were no telegraphs in those days; and Westland, shut off by a high range of mountains, had communication with Christchurch on the eastern side by coach only once a week." The auction sale of the South Sea island curios brought by the Rona was a great success, Reeves believed, because gold-diggers are proverbially open-handed, and because, "having only the small town of Hokitika to go to for a spree, the West coast men thirsted for even the most trifling change of excitement".

They did have a truly exciting spectacle from time to time, however, and Reeve's account of one such happening is worth quoting, of only it show the difficulties Bully Hayes and other skippers had to face "Hokitika, the rainiest, yet the balmiest and most delightful climate in New Zealand ... one calm Sunday morning, at high water, was a gay sight not easily forgotten. Seven sailing vessels, loaded with food, liquor, clothing, digger's tools, building materials, and everything hard to do without and long waited for, had lain for a week in the roadstead, their heavy sides appearing and disappearing in the long, rolling swell." Waves were breaking over a broad black beach, which as far as the eye could see received mighty rollers from the Tasman Sea, "tumbling in from the unbroken waste of waters that extended westward for four thousand miles". The joyful news had spread that the bar had changed for the better; the whole town gathered on the beach - at least three thousand - well dressed, laughing, talking, strolling men, women, and children, waiting for the tide to rise. Just before high water up went the black ball to the harbour mast-head as a sign that the bar was safe. Bustle was soon evident on board the vessels, which, after being twice blown out to sea, were eagerly awaiting that welcome signal.

With sails set, the seven ships headed, one after another, for the bar. the lookers-on held their breath, says Reeves, for there was no insurance in those days, and they were not only onlookers, but players in the game, "each with a big stake on the blue waters for a gambling board. On came the first vessel, a little light-draught schooner, bravely scudding across the crowd; while surf to starboard on the bar, surf to port on the beach, tossed its spray with threatening warning roar, over the skeletons of former wrecks."

"Driven on rapidly by the wind, a big brigantine, breaking into the distance imperative for safety between each sailing ship crossing a bar, follows her too closely at a critical moment. She loses way; a big wave whirls her bow around, and on to the beach. As she touches the ground, without half a cable's length of the crowd, there is a faint murmur from some of the unfortunate consignees, but they soon cease to think of their loss in the big scramble."

Surf dashes over the schooner, and her sailors cling to the rigging. One of them, high up in the foremast, waits his opportunity, and as the mast is swung round towards the land by a big roller, he throws a coiled hand-line loaded with a leaden ball. "On shore a hundred willing hands seize it and haul." Soon a thick rope attached to the end of the line appears and is made fast, and by its aid passengers and crew are helped though the breakers. "Soon the beach is littered with cargo tossed in on every wave from the cracking deck, to the feet of eager children who press down to the edge of each receding billow, and flying back again from the returning mountain of water, look on the catastrophe as grand fun." Alas, "out of the seven vessels, four go ashore and leave their bones on beach or bar". The other three get in. No lives are lost on this trip, so everyone is joyous, even the losers -"one of them 1200 pounds poorer than he was at breakfast time. that fairly-sized stake happened to be in a big lumbering brigantine, called the Maria. She drew too much water; he never liked the name Maria, even before this jade treated him so scurvily.

After experiences of this kind, says Reeves, "all small gamblings with coin, all theatrical scenes and spectacular effects, seem tame and insipid. but in time even it grew monotonous, we wanted more variety." And variety they got, with the auction sale of curios "on the infamous Rona by a villain with a price on his head. His arrival was a godsend to the diggers weary for fresh excitement. All the lots of curios were cleared at absurdly high prices. It was late in the afternoon before the sale was over, everything paid for, orders were given for delivery, and before the auctioneer had settled with the skipper. Hayes gave out that the lots would be delivered next morning." Several wise purchasers took theirs away at the time of payment, "but the majority, trusting the pleasant-looking pirate trader, waited, and were paid with the topsail sheet. On the night tide Hayes was over the bar, and by breakfast time was out of sight with both money and curios."

Such was life on the diggings of Hokitika as told by Mr Edward Reeves, some of which can be taken with a grain of salt. From Hokitika, the scene of bully's crookedness jumps to Auckland, where in 1864 he had smeared his record, double-crossing his creditors and doing a moonlight flit to Nelson on the Black Diamond. I quote from a report in the Auckland Southern Cross on 16th January 1867, headlined "Captain Hayes Again - The Brig Rona". "The veritable Captain Hayes, of Black Diamond, notoriety, arrived off the port of 'Auckland yesterday with the brig Rona for provisions on his way from Hokitika to the islands. Not being desirous of renewing his acquaintance, for obvious reasons, with various Auckland merchants, Captain Hayes contented himself with sending his mate to town for the purchase of stores. On his arrival with two boats well manned, the mate described himself as master of the brig Hayward, three months out from Adelaide on a trading voyage, run short of provisions, and purchased a supply of oilmen's stores, shi chandlery, provisions, etc. He produced no ship's papers and was not communicative as to his voyage, reducing to make any report."

The silence of the mate prompted Captain Williams, boarding inspector and searcher of Her Majesty's Customs, to board the vessel that evening. "She proved to be the brig Rona, Captain Hayes, with a clearance from the Hokitika customs, bound to the South Sea Islands. Captain Hayes was accompanied by his wife and two children, and mustered a strong crew. The vessel was found to be in a dilapidated condition, and Captain Williams endeavoured to persuade Hayes to put into port. but without success, Captain Williams stated that he found the Rona about three miles outside Rangitoto, and on bearing towards her orders were given to weigh anchor, as sail was attempted to be made shortly afterwards." This was not, however, until Captain Williams approached her.

Basil Thomson, who worked many years in the Pacific in a civil servant, had lots to say about Bully Hayes in his book: Savage Island, which was published in 1902. Niue or Savage Island, known to English and American navigators as "Nowey", was discovered by the Dutch navigators Schouten and Lemaire in the year 1616. It was also visited by Tasman in 1643. The modern history of the island goes back to Captain James Cook, who arrived there in H.M.S. Resolution on 22nd June 1774. A party which attempted to land was repulsed by the Polynesian inhabitants who threw stones and spears at the white men. cook named it "Savage Island", but it is better known to-day as "Niue". Later visitors to Niue were a group of convicts whose story I told, in collaboration with the late P.R. Stephensen, in The Pirates of the Brig "Cyprus". They were serving life sentences in Tasmania when they pirated the brig Cyprus, bound from Hobart to Macquarie Harbour in southwest Tasmania. The eighteen convicts, led by a fierce cove named Swallow, mutinied on 16th August 1829 and, after marooning forty-four men, women and children fifty miles south of Hobart, set out across the Pacific in search of wine, women and song. They tarried awhile in New Zealand waters with the sealers of Cloudy Bay and Port Underwood, then headed for Tahiti, 2500 miles north-east. One wild and stormy night one of the convicts, Bill Brown, was lost overboard. Now there were only seventeen.

On 28th September 1829, after a passage of thirty-four days from Port Underwood, Captain Swallow took sights with his quadrant at noon, and announced that according to his reckoning the brig was fifty miles west of Tahiti. Unfortunately, contrary winds hampered their voyage, and they arrived at Niue Island. Here they were welcomed by an American who introduced himself as "Sam Bell, castaway sailor by my own choice; adviser and interpreter to His Majesty King Nuafoo". After six weeks of high jinks and freedom, Captain Swallow, afraid that a wandering British warship might drop in at Niue, decided to sail for China. On the seventeen men, seven decided to stay at Niue. So, some time in November 1829, the Cyprus (now called the Friends of Baston) sailed out of Niue Lagoon and headed nor'-west across the Pacific, making a short stay at one of the Marshall Islands gathering wood, water, and vegetables. the story of their odyssey is too long to repeat. Suffice to say, Captain Swallow and some of his cronies reached London and were captured. Swallow was tried and sentenced to complete his term of imprisonment at Macquarie Harbour, where he did on 12th May 1834.

We return to Basil Thomson and his book Savage Island. According to this, in January 1867 Bully Hayes landed Mr R.H. Head on the island, to act as a trader for him. Sir Basil describes Head as "the best specimen of an English trader that it has been my good fortune to meet". He married a Savage Island woman, by whom he had ten children. "Undaunted by the forebodings of his friends he determined to rear his children as Europeans." As they grew older they were educated in New Zealand, and when Sir Basil wrote his book he was able to record: "All the sons who have stayed in New Zealand are in good positions. Three returned to Savage Island, where two help their father and the third has set up a store of his own." Mrs Head's friends had said, "It's all very well with the boys, but what about the girls? Sir Vasil gives the answer: "One is married and prosperous in Auckland, another a schoolteacher, and a third I met in Alofi would pass for a handsome educated Italian. Mrs Head wears native dress and speaks English with hesitation, but she is an intelligent woman."

Returning to Head' early days on Savage Island, Sir Basil tells us that Bully Hayes found it a virgin field for blackbirding. "In the intervals of piracy Hayes posed as a law-abiding trader, and it was only when he wearied of the slow returns from the sale of calico that he turned to means and quicker profit. but Head, it seems, would have nothing to do with a trade in human beings. "One day," says Sir Basil, "Hayes put in at Alofi, Save Island, and made himself so agreeable to the natives that sixty of them came off to his vessel to gloat over the wonders of a foreign ship. With that, Bully slipped his cable and stood out to sea. The indignation of the islanders knew no bounds. It was at its height when, about a week later, the joyful news spread that the ship was returning." The name of the vessel is not given, but I presume it was the Rona. "Mr Hayes landed alone and met Mr Head on a village green surrounded by natives. He was in high spirits, and had a ready answer to Mr Head's reproaches. 'I told the beggars I was going to sail,' he said, 'but they would not leave the ship. I could not stay here a month. What could I do?"

The men, he told the natives, were all right. Finding that he had not enough provisions for so many he had landed them at a nice little island to the north, and had returned for food and water for them. If he had meant to kidnap hem, would he have retuned? The story was thin, but the natives were in no mood to test it. "Food was shipped on his vessel, and the crew from Aitutaki Isle landed and made frihnds with the people. That night word was brought to Mr head that these gentry had planned to elope with some girls whose heads had been turned with stories of foreign travel. Mr Head at once went to the chief and a guard was sent hot-foot to the beach, only to see the schooner's lights in the distance. When they called the roll they found more than thirty girls missing. this was the last time Hayes visited Savage Island."

Some time later Mr Head was told the sequel to the kidnapping. Re-embarking the men whom he found half-starved on the near-by isle, Hayes set sail for Tahiti, where he disposed of the Savage Islanders to the highest bidder. Many died there, a few found their way to Samoa and Queensland, a remnant, among whom was the daughter of Tongaia, King of Savage Island, found their way home. More of Haye's visit to Tahiti later.

In June 1867 the Sydney Morning Herald reported: "The wreck of the mission schooner John Williams, which drifted on a reef on Savage Island in a calm, has been bought for five hundred dollars by the celebrated Captain W.H. Hayes of the brig Rona. The masts of the Jon Williams are gone, but the hull was standing quite perfect, with the exception of a hole in the bottom." The news was confirmed by the Otago Daily Times of 12th June 1867. "By the arrival of the Neva at Auckland, we have confirmation of the wreck of the splendid mission barque, John Williams. Captain Young, who called at Savage Island, saw the John Williams high and dry on the shore. The wreck had been purchased at Samoa, for five hundred dollars, by Captain Hayes, who had just arrived in the brig Rona. A hurricane passed over the islands on the 21st March last, which continued for three days, doing serious injury to the fruit crops and plantations, and dest4royin g substantial buildings. The crop are so destroyed that no their vessel except the Neva will be able to obtain cargoes."

Many years later, in 1902, the Religious Tract Society of London published the autobiography of the Reverend James Chalmers. The distinguished missionary recorded that after the John Williams was wrecked on Savage Island on 8th January 1867, he spent six weeks on Savage Island, and then embarked on a schooner for Apia, Samoa. Soon afterwards most of the crew and passengers of the John Williams were brought to Samoa in the Rona, a brig of 150 tons, "owned and commanded by the notorious Bully Hayes". On the arrival of Captain Williams of the John Williams, the wreck was sold, and Hayes bought it, with all belongings. Hayes was then chartered to return to Savage Island and to bring to Apia all the spoiled cargo, which he did. After spending six weeks in Samoa, says Chalmers, "Hayes was chartered to take us to Rarotonga, and Mr and Mrs Saville to Huahine. Hayes seemed to take to me more during the frequent meetings we had on shore, and before going on board I said to him, 'I hope you will have no objections to having morning and evening service on board, and twice in the Sabbath? Only those who like to come ned attend.'

While the missionaries were on board, says Chalmers, Hayes was "a perfect host and a thorough gentleman", and "although we had fearful weather nearly all the time, we enjoyed ourselves". He also records that Hayes's wife and children were on board. At times, however, Hayes "lost his temper and did very queer things, acting under the influence of passion more like a madman than a sane man. Much of his past life he related to us at table, especially such things as he had done to cheat Governments. When near to Rarotonga I had a very kind letter from Hayes thanking me for the services I had held on board the hip and for my kindly demeanour towards him, saying, 'If you were near me I should certainly become a new man and lead a new life.'" Chalmers concluded his memoirs of Hayes by noting that "a few days after arriving at Rarotonga he nearly killed his supercargo with a bag of dollars I had given him as a final payment of the charter for the voyage now successfully completed".

Hugh Romilly, author or Western Pacific, published in 1886, comments: "Hayes was an enormously powerful man and strictly temperate. He had a supercargo on board who shared in many of his ventures but they separated after this voyage. The supercargo was a young man of a good and well-known family at home, who had joined Bully for the love of adventure. However, they had a quarrel and Hayes battered him over the head with a bag containing 250 dollars, after which he threw the bag in the sea, exclaiming that 'the dollars were not fit to keep after touching such a skunk as his supercargo." I first became interested in the work of the Reverend James Chalmers when I voyaged to Papua in February 1940. From Port Moresby I headed west in the Government launch Panawina, until we reached the island of Daru. Later I read the story of the blood-drenched history-soaked island of Dopima, where Chalmers had cruised among the cannibals in April 1901. But before we proceed I'll give you a brief outline of his life, based on items in the Australian Encyclopaedia. James Chalmers, the son of a stonemason, was born in Argyllshire, Scotland, on 4th August 1841.

He left school at the age of thirteen to work in a solicitor's office, but before he was twenty James decided to become a missionary. In 1861 he joined the Glasgow City Mission, and was sent by the London Missionary Soce3ity, known as the "L.M.S., to continue his studies at Cheshunt College. On 17th October 1865 he married, and two days later was ordained to the Congregational ministry.

It was decided that he should go to Rarotonga in the Cook Islands and in January 1866 he sailed to Australia in the missionary ship John Williams. John Williams, a celebrated missionary, had been murdered by cannibals at Erromanga on 10th November 1859. Chalmers reached Sydney in May 1866, and from there sailed for the New Hebrides. The ship an on an uncharted rock and had to return to Sydney for repairs. It sailed again and was wrecked in January 1867. The final stage of his journey, as we have seen, was made with bully Hayes.

Arriving at Rarotonga in May 1867, Chalmers was at first disappointed to find himself on an island already partially under Christian influence. But he soon realized there was much to be done. He learned the native language, did much t4aching, and strove to overcome the drunkenness then prevalent on the island. Chalmers laboured mightily for over thirty years, always seeking natives who had seldom if ever seen a white man. And so we find him, in April 1901, on board the Niue, with a young missionary, Oliver Tomkins, in the Fly River Deita, at the island of Goaribari. In my book Prowling Through Papua I have told the story of what happened. Tamate, As Chalmers was called, decided to go ashore Bible in hand, but otherwise unarmed. With him in the whaleboat were young Tomkins and ten mission natives from the Fly Rifer. It was seven in the morning of 8th April 1901. Tamate said he would be back in half an hour for breakfast. The whaleboat disappeared in the mangroves near Dopima long-house, and the skipper of the Niue waited impatiently until midday. But the whaleboat never returned. That afternoon the natives raided the Niue and looted it of everything portable. Lucky to escape with his life, the skipper sailed round the island looking for the two white pastors. On shore the naked natives had on war-paint and were yelling all the time.

Twenty-four days later two vengeance ships arrived at Goaribari Island with twelve men of the Royal Australian Artillery, who were joined by eighteen native constables. what happened next is told in a telegram from Lieutenant-Governor Le Hume of Papua to the Governor of Queensland: "Boats landed at three villages, natives commenced hostilities. We fired on them and occupied villages. Total killed twenty-four and three wounded. Captured one prisoner and obtained information. Mission party all killed and eaten and whaleboat broken up." The prisoner, Kemete, told the full story of the murder of the missionaries and converts, the eating of the bodi3s, and the departure of the cannibals with the heads of the victims. some time later the skull of the Reverend James Chalmers was handed over to the London Missionary Society at Daru. There it was reverently buried in the grave of Mrs Chalmers with the inscription: "The noble army of martyrs praise Thee."

Before we say farewell to Niue Island, I would like to refer to a brief history by Louis Becke in the Sydney Bulletin of 21st January 1893. "This isolated but productive island, lying three hundred miles east of Tonga," writes Becke, "has become tinged with the desire to form part of that glorious empire on which the sun never sets." The islanders were intensely loyal to the British, and in the 1880s, when German and British firms were battling for business, A German agent hoisted the 'German flag to welcome the German brig Alfred, which had just arrived. Says Becke: "In ten minutes the whole population of Alofi arose and went for the trader, who barricaded himself in his house and announced through the keyhole that he only hoisted the flag out of compliment to the ship. to which the natives replied that they would not even allow that. If he wished to show the Germ flag, he could call the captain inside his house to look at it. The flagstaff was cut down and chopped up, and the flag made into loincloths for the children."

According to Becke, in 1893 there were about ten villages in the island, containing a population of five thousand, the two largest towns being Alofi on the coast and Hakupu in the interior. "The people are possibly the most cantankerous and suspicious of all Malayo-Polynesian races - which is good for them." The island was of upheaved coral formation, thirty-five miles in circuit. the King, Faataaiki, had a fund of anecdotes about 'Bully Hayes, the Captain Kidd of the South Pacific, and his fellow pirate, Captain Ben Peese (or Pease). Peese once sold Mr head, then a young man, a lot of trade to buy produce with. In the course of a year he returned, and Head, going on board, saw Hayes, whom Peese described as "a friend travelling on account of his delicate health".

Becke comments that Hayes was over six feet, and had the muscular development of a healthy working bullock. The story continues: "Head brought off all the produce he had collected, which represented a large sum. Then the rascal, Peese, told him to clear off ashore again if he valued his life. A boat was lowered, and poor Head, seeing the folly of resistance, got in. Hayes was in charge, and his apparently amiable face induced Head to make an appeal to him, to which Hayes replied, 'Waal, I won't see you landed altogether helpless among those natives; I'll make Peese give you a case of tobacco.' The tobacco was put in, and the boat pulled away to a village called Avatele. "Here the natives threatened to kill Hayes if he landed, until Head begged them to desist and allow him to come ashore. Hayes, meanwhile, pressing a pistol against the trader's head and saying that if any treachery was meditated he would blow his brains out. Head landed safely, and has remained there ever since, being now a wealthy man and respected by whites and native alike."

Becke ends with another anecdote about Hayes. "Mr Head entertained the jovial pirate in his house, and somewhat ostentatiously displayed his cash-box containing 600 dollars, stating that it was only a month's takings. Whereupon the humourless Hayes, a perfect Bismarck in the grimness of his brutality - swept the gold pieces into his pockets, remarking that 'that was only a day's takings, but he would look on it as a friendly loan'. Trader Head never saw it again and was too scared to talk about it during Hayes's life." Becke's stories do not agree with Sir Basil Thomson's statement that Hayes landed Head to act as a trader for him. But Becke was a writer of fiction rather than a historian

We return to 1867, when Bully Hayes, after landing the missionaries safely at Rarotonga, apparently continued his voyaging about the Pacific. The Auckland Southern Cross of 15th July 1867 reported that the Rona lost a boat and two of her crew in a gale off Cook Islands. There now appears to be lull in the gales that blew around the curly locks of Bully Hayes, and, after all the tales of his crooked dealings, it is pleasant to read something nice about him. The author of the "something nice" was Captain Handley Bathurst Sterndale, who told of his life and strife in the South Seas in several articles appearing in the New Zealand Monthly Review in 1890.

On 8th August 1867 Captain Sterndale had sailed from Melbourne on board the schooner Traveller, the property of the Pacific Island Trading company. Captain Sterndale's duties were to survey and report on certain islands which that Company had leased from the British Government. He also had to establish a settlement and trade depot, and to collect pearlshell, beche-de-mer, or whatever goods were found on the islands. Leader of this expedition was Mr John Lavington Evans, the lessee of Suwarrow Island. Says Captain Sterndale: "We departed from Melbourne with two vessels sailing in company; specially purchased and fitted out for the journey. They were filled to the deck with valuable cargo of trade goods and building materials. We had also submarine armour, and apparatus for the manufacture of fresh water. Exclusive of the ship's officers, our party consisted of four; Mr Evans, his assistant, the surgeon and myself. We were all shareholders in the venture, but my interest was small in comparison with the others. I took no share in their councils, being satisfied to execute the orders of the superintendent, having confidence in his experience and ability to conduct the expedition to a successful issue.

"On arriving at the Hervey Group, Cook Islands, the smaller of our two vessels was wrecked upon the reef of Rarotonga." This misfortune ruined any chance of success for their future operations, but, after shipping a number of natives to be employed collecting beche-de-mer, they proceeded to Suwarrow Island where they arrived on 16th October 1867. There, said Captain Sterndale, "we found three persons; a half-bred boy, native of Mangaia; a native of Manihiki; and an Indian Lascar. They were doing nothing, having no boats and little water. Had we not arrived they must have starved to death." On 4th November 1867 the Traveller departed, leaving Sterndale on Suwarrow with eighteen men, two women, and three children. "Upon landing we were given provisions for four months, according to the dietary scale of Malden Island, and I was instructed to regulate the rations of my men." Because the island had no fresh water the people had to use a "Steam Condensing Apparatus", a permanent job stoking the fire to get water for twenty-one adults and three children.

Suwarrow, one of the Northern Cook Island, is 513 miles north-west of Rarotonga. The Pacific Islands Year Book states that the atoll has no permanent inhabitants. Is is actually a group of many small islets, the three largest of which are wooded. Including its encircling reef, which encloses a lagoon, it is twelve miles long and nine miles broad. The grim story of Suwarrow dates back to early in the nineteenth century. Alexander Findlay in his Directory of the South Pacific Ocean states that the isles were discovered in September 1814 by "Leutenant Lazareff, commanding the Souworoff, a vessel belonging to the Russian American Company. The approach was indicated by a large flock of birds. The Russians landed, and found the islands inhabited by birds, crabs and rats, with a few scrubs, but no sign of people." Further information is given in a fascinating story of the South Seas by James Cowan entitled Suwarrow Gold. Cowan states that Lazareff named the isles after "Suvorov" before sailing away. The Encyclopaedia Britannica states that Alexander Suvorov was born at Moscow in 1729. He fought against the Swedes in Finland and the Prussians during the Seven Years' War. He served in Poland, and also battled with the Turks. In 1799 he fought against the French Revolutionary armies in Italy with a series of victories which drove nearly every French soldier from Italy. But his triumphs were short lived, and after a battle which he lost his army retreated. Field-Marshal Suvorov returned to St Petersburg in disgrace, and died there in the year 1800.

The Souworoff or Suvorov sailed away, and more sailors arrived, seeking bche-de-mer, sandalwood and pearlshell. because "Suvorov" was too hard to pronounce, it became "Suwarrow". Suwarrow also became known as a Treasure Island when stories circulated among mariners that Spanish galleons loaded with treasure from Peru and the Philippines had been wrecked there several centuries previously. Many treasure-hunters tried their luck there, especially after ruins of settlements were said to have been found, with muskets swords, doubloons, cannons, skeletons, and other relics of a bygone era. James Cowan says that in 1855 the American whaler Gem was wrecked on the coral reef guarding the lagoon of Suwarrow. Rescued, the survivors arrived at Tahiti, where the captain sold his cargo of whale-oil on the Gem to Livingston Evans, a trader in search of easy money. Livingston vans was also known as John Lavington Evans.

Evans chartered a schooner, sailed from Tahiti, collect4d the whale-oil, and searched for treasure. "Evans had an old Spanish parchment map of Suwarrow he had picked up years before in Peru. From it he set men digging on Anchorage Island, the largest of the group. He tried numerous banyan trees and excavated for yards around them. Finally, after a week of hard work, a heavy iron-bound chest was unearthed near a towering tree in the centre of the islet." This I find hard to believe; I have never visited Suwarrow, but I doubt if banyan trees ever grew there. Findlay says the island only had "a few scrubs". to return to Cowan's story, the heavy chest was taken on board the schooner, where Evans opened it in the presence of two officers. It revealed a glittering hoard of coin. when he returned to Tahiti the contents were sold for 15,000 American dollars. How does this story fit in with the expedition organized by Evans in 1867, which brought Captain Sterndale to Suwarrow?

After reading the background of various Suwarrow Island yarns, I believe that Evans roped in some gullible people with money and get-rich-quick ideas in Melbourne, and told them the story of his find of "15,000 American dollars". Read again the statement by Sterndale: "We were all shareholders in the venture, but my interest was small in comparison with the others." His orders, he said, "were to survey and make a chart of these islands to build a settlement of houses, and to collect beche-de-mer until the return of the Traveller, in about four months' time". His narrative continues: "After the departure of the vessel I was very careful and saving of our provisions. I remained in good health, having confidence in the honour of my employers, never doubting their intention to return for us at he promised time." The Suwarrow group produces nothing in the way of food, except fish, and in hurricane weather it is not always possible to catch them. There were only about fifty coconut-bearing palms, insufficient for so many people.

"I had no boat," said the unhappy captain, "that could live in a sea; those which I had being old, rotten and leaky, unprovided with sails or gear. Neither, if their timber could have held together, had I any canvas, twine, pitch, putty, copper nails, or other material to repair them. I had no chart or even a compass, quadrant or Epitome." The newest inhabited island was at Manihiki, four hundred miles "dead to windward", an impossible journey. Says Captain Sterndale: "Some gear, and compasses were were lost in the wreck at Rarotonga, but boats and other things were not supplied to me on the grounds that I should never require them. I was on the best terms with my companions in the Traveller, and I believe had won their good opinion and respect. I parted from them on that savage shore with regret, but no suspicion crossed my mind that it was not intended that I should ever see them again." The marooned inhabitants obeyed instruction to survey and map the islands. Some built houses, others dived for pearlshell and beche-de-mer, a sea slug highly prized by the Chinese as a tasty food.

"By the middle of march 1868 our provisions were exhausted. I had, by curtailing the men's allowance, caused them to last a month longer than they would otherwise have done. I tried to keep up the spirits of the men by assuring them that we would be well supplied again, and I divided my own stock of food on the principle that when starved we would all starve alike." Chances of life were precarious for them all, but the captain was in a worse state than any of them. "I had scurvy very severely, rapidly aggravated by lack of wholesome food, and I became a living skeleton. Any attempt to stand on my feet was followed by immediate insensibility. I was obliged to lie in a horizontal position. As weeks passed, the prospect of death began to stare us daily in the face. No vessels ever go to Suwarrow's Islands unless specially sent there." But help did arrive. On 17th April 1868, "arrived at Suwarrow's, Captain W.H. Hayes, of the brig Rona, having on board 109 natives of Savage Island, and Captain Geoffrey Strickland, father of the young half breed whom I had found on my arrival in October of the previous year". (The 109 natives were probably those kidnapped by Hayes at Savage Island, as told earlier in the narrative of Basil Thomson.) Captain Hayes was on his way to Manihiki, en route for Tahiti. "To the care and kindness of this gentleman," wrote Sterndale, "I am indebted for the preservation of my life and that of the people under my charge."

Bravo for Bully Hayes! That is the most creditable thing I have read about him since I began following his tracks across the Pacific Ocean. Captain Sterndale's account goes on: "At the time of his arrival I was in a state of great exhaustion, not expecting to survive more than a few days, having discontinued writing my journal, and no longer able to write legibly. Captain Hayes, in spite of the crowded state of his vessel and the scarcity of provisions - he having been blown from Savage Island on a hurricane before having time to complete his stores - insisted on taking us all on board, saying he did not feel justified in leaving us there, especially myself, who appeared at the point of death." After the sick and starving castaways were carried on board the Rona, the settlement was abandoned on 23rd April 1868. On 4th May Sterndale landed at Alliconga on Reirson Island, intending to remain there until Captain Hayes came back from Savage Island, where "he was obliged to return before proceeding to Tahiti". Presumably the sick man would have been more comfortable there than on the overcrowded Rona.

Findlay's Directory of he south Pacific states that "Grand Duke Alexander, or Reirson Island, was discovered by Captain Bellingshausen in 1820, and again in 1822, by Captain Patrickson, who calls it by the later name." The Pacific islands year Book gives it a still earlier discovery, by Quiros in 1605. It had also been visited by H.M.S. Hecate in 1863. "Reirson Island, known to the natives as Rakahanga, had a population of 340 natives, who with native teachers of the London Missionary Society had good and correct behaviour." The natives of Reirson Island treated Captain Sterndale hospitably until the arrival of the schooner Moorea, Captain Waterman, of Tahiti. "This gentleman offered me a passage to Tahiti in the Moorea where I arrived on 1st June 1869. by the owners of this vessel and the people of Tahiti I was received with much sympathy. After three weeks in the Military Hospital I am now able to walk. Whether I shall recover my strength or whether I may lose one of my limb s is an uncertain question." Later Captain Hayes arrived in Tahiti to sell his cargo of slaves from Savage Island, and visited Captain Sterndale in hospital. Wrote Sterndale: "I had procured on the island seven tons of beche-de-mer, and four tons of pearshell. Captain Hayes's vessel being full with material from the wreck of the John Williams at Savage Island when he arrived at Suwarrow's, he was unwilling to take on board my cargo. but when I told him my intention was to remain unless he would buy what I had, he made me an offer of 855 dollars for the lot - beche-de-mer, pearlshell and other goods - which I thought very liberal."

Much of the foregoing information was included in a sworn declaration made by Captain Sterndale on his arrival at Tahiti. Bully Hayes also made a statement, as follows: "I have read Captain Sterndale's Declaration, and subscribe to that portion of it which commences with my arrival at Suwarrow's Island on the 17th March last. The statement By Captain Sterndale of the condition of himself and his companions in that place, the manner in which he was abandoned on the islands, and the disposal of his effects is in every particular correct. Signed W.H. Hayes."

The Moorea, after her mission of mercy carrying Sterndale and his sick men to Tahiti, came to a tragic end. In Kidnapping in the South Seas Captain George Palmer quotes an article in the Fiji times dated 9th October 1869. "The Mary Anne Christina, Captain Field, arrived in Levuka harbour from the Line Islands with the sad news of the massacre by natives, of the captain and mate of the French barque Moorea, and Mr Latin who was on board, also the wholesale loss of life of the savage murderers by drowning." When the Mary Anne Christina had arrived at Porou on 27th August 1869 two white men, Antoni and Slater, informed Captain Field that two weeks prior to his arrival three white men and two hundred and fifty natives were drowned. Antoni and Slater, watching from the beach, had seen the barque at the mercy of wind and waves and what seemed confusion on board. Next day the barque was out of sight, but later thirty exhausted natives reached the shore. From them it was gathered that they had revolted, murdered the white officers, and thrown them into the sea. The second mate his below. "The murderers, finding the vessel leaving the land, jumped into the sea, and made for the shore, and only thirty reaching land out of 280. the crew of the barque were natives of Tahiti, and seemed to have no part in the bloody work, so that the vessel may turn up again, of the second mate understands navigation.

Comments Captain Palmer: "So much for kidnapping. It may be safely concluded that if the second mate ever does turn up, he will be cured of that complaint." John Lavington Evans later gave his version of what happened after he left Sterndale at Suwarrow and sailed away in the Traveller. W.H. Percival, writing in the Melbourne Weekly News of 27th March 1957 stated that Evans reached Samoa from Suwarrow in the Traveller, and there paid off his crew and sold his ship, provision , and extra gear. In a written statement to the British consul at Apia, Evans testified that he had left Sterndale and a party with twelve month's supplies and a boat capable of getting them to Samoa. He then left for Sydney. But the consul became suspicious. He questioned members of the Traveller's crew and from them learnt the true story. According to Percival, the Consul then wrote to Bully Hayes, who was at Savage Island, and asked him to rescue Strerndale and his people. Hayes sailed at once in the brig Rona, overcrowded with a hundred Savage Islanders and the gear stripped from the wreck of the missionary ship John Williams, and took the marooned men on board. While Captain Hayes was alive and kicking in Tahiti the Sydney Morning Heralds of 25th June 1868 printed this sensational statement: "The story of the murder of Captain Hayes, a notorious person in the South Sea Islands, was without foundation. It appears to have been circulated to prevent further inquiry after him. He had, in fact, bought the wreck of the mission ship John Williams, got it off the reef, and sailed it to Valparaiso, south America, where it could be repaired."

Two days later, on 27th June, an indignant letter appeared from "Captain R. Turpie, late Chief Officer of John Williams", who wrote: "A paragraph in this morning's Herald would lead those who are ignorant of the particulars of the wreck of the John Williams to believe that Captain Hayes, who purchased the wreck, had succeeded in not only getting her off the reef, but in navigating her to Valparaiso, where she would be repaired. Allow me, Sir, to correct any such impression on the minds of your readers respecting the John Williams. I can affirm that when she was sold to Captain Hayes she was a complete wreck, and there was no possibility of her being again floated. When sold she was only worth burning or breaking up for the sake of the material in her construction, and I have positive information that the wreck has entirely disappeared, but not in the manner the paragraph alluded to would lead one to suppose."

Says the Adelaide Register of 30th July 1868: "Hayes was at Tahiti busily engaged in fitting out the Rona for another cruise in the South Seas Islands, and then for the first time we heard of Hayes as a blackbirder." On 20th October 1868 the Reverend W. Lawes at Savage Island wrote to the Reverend G. Morris: "Captain Hayes is here in the Rona waiting for his schooner, the Samoa, daily expected from Samoa. Is said to intend buying a lot of pigs. Pigs are, however, a secondary object; the primary one, I have reason to believe, is a cargo of men and women."