A USEFUL TOMBSTONE.

Wanganui Chronicle, Volume XII, Issue 829, 11 February 1868, Page 2

A USEFUL TOMBSTONE.

Native matters have ceased to excite the startling interest which they excited some three or four years ago. Those who still bestow attention on the subject will, however, find themselves amply repaid by little morsels ot news botli interesting and diverting. The following story is a specimen : There was a gentleman at Auckland who was distinguished above all others for liis boisterous advocacy of the war, and liis denunciation of native delinquency. The war being over, anil the Native Lands Act having opened the dealing in land with the natives, this gentleman was one of the first to negociate for a large run in the Ngatihaua country. He appears to have been successful in leasing a run from the late chief W. Thompson. Tho king natives seem, however, to have given some trouble, and it was not certain whether they would allow the run to be occupied. Thompson in the meantime died, and the mana descended to his son Tana, who appears to have been willing to carry out his father’s intention. Still tlie case was critical. The title to the run was in peril. About July last, we were informed by the Auckland press, that a monument to the memory of William Thompson was set up on the spot where he died at Mr Firth’s expense. It was designed, we were told, by Mr Wrigley, an architect in Auckland, and was composed of “an obelisk in hard wood, sanded over ; and in this is let in a brass case containing a portrait of Thompson, which is protected by a slide.” The description does not give an idea of very high art, but rather of one of those sliam, stone-mimicking, wooden structures which are the pride of New Zealand, and tlie laughing stock of all men of educated taste.

Still, however, one could not help being struck with the generosity of tlie spirit, which could thus do honour to the memory of a chief, who for several years past had been reviled by the war party and the press of Auckland as capable of every cruelty and duplicity. And it was the more striking, that this delicate compliment to the memory of the much maligned chieftain was paid by one of the most vigorous Boanerges of the community. Such was the monument, and such its builder—an unselfish, generous creature, who saw no shame in doing honour to the man dead, whom he and his friends had abused when living. This monument however had, it appears, an inscription neatly cut in black letters by Messrs Yeaton and Robinson of Auckland. To this inscription ive must look for tho full exposition of clie builder’s appreciation of the genius and virtues of tlie honoured dead. It is as follows ; in Maori of course : Go hence, O friend.

When the son of Kiripuai lived, men were venerated. [An old proverb ] William Thompson Te Waharoa died here on the 27th day of December, 1866. This was his last sentence: —•

Tell Mr Firth if he is willing to reside here continually, I am agreeable. Charming, disinterested homage to the memory of the great ! To what uses may not a tombstone be put ! In Warren’s tale of “ Ten Thousand a Year” this discovery of an old tombstono is mado tho most important link in tho evidence which

changed the proprietors of a princely fortune. If we remember rightly, the villain of that clever story proposed that, if a satisfactory toombstone could not be found to establish the necessary link in the evidence, tone artist in antiquities should be employed to make one. We only hope that Mr Firth’s tombstone to his benefactor may be as lucrative as Mr Tittlebat Titmouse found the one procured for him by Oily Gammon. What a speaking tribute ! It is not only a cenotaph but a last will and testament. “ I leave Firth this run.” Poor Thompson —lying distant from his own home and people ; dying of a broken heart —broken by the loss of all his influence, the ruin of his tribe, the confiscation of bis lands ; mourning and weeping over the calamities of the people who would not be advised, but, spurning his councils of peace, rushed on their destruction; strange indeed that amidst all the painful thoughts which crowded upon his dying brain, the last, the most engrossing, was—not the welfare of the remnant of his decaying race —not one of all those schemes which had failed, and failing had broken his heart—but only—let Firth have his run. Strangely Christian for one who had tampered, to say no more, with Hau Hauism. Was he thinking of some lesson learned in far-off days'of childhood in good Archdeacon Brown’s Schools—“ Bless your enemies ; do good to them who persecute you.” We remember nothing to equal this inscription on the Firth-Thompson monument, unless it be the late Lord Panmure’s first telegram to the Commander-in-chief in the Crimea —“ Take care of Dowb.” Mr Dowbiggin was his Lordship’s nephew, we believe ; and was no doubt taken care of. May the tombstone be as auspicious as the telegram. The sanded wooden obelisk contains a brass box with a likeness of Thompson inside. Might not the artistic effect be heightened by another likeness —that of the disinterested builder —in the image of a ghoul sitting on the top of the tombstone and feeding on the dead beneath ? A recent Auckland paper tells us that another dreadful Native outrage has taken place. An attempt has been made to burn “ Thomson’s monument !! ” What wretches these natives must b q.— Canterbury Press.