Omai, the Otaheitan.

An Engraving.

He played such a prominent part in the entertainments at Hinchingbrook, and had such a curious life of adventure, that a brief notice will scarcely be misplaced. His father was a man of considerable property in Whetea, one of the South Pacific Islands, which had been conquered by a neighbour, and he took refuge in Huaheine, where he died, leaving Omai, and several other children, in a state of poverty, and dependence. Captain Cook tells us, that Captain Furneaux, visiting these islands, becoming interested in Omai, conveyed him to England, where he became a resident under Lord Sandwich’s roof, (John, fourth Earl, then First Lord of the Admiralty.) Captain Cook and Mr. Cradock give the same character of the half savage, “intelligent, indolent, childlike, full of affection, and gratitude to his noble patron, but cherishing a feeling of revenge towards those of his own countrymen, who had ill-treated his father, and reduced himself to poverty. Lord Sandwich took him about to music meetings, races, etc.” “At Leicester,” says Mr. Cradock, “he divided public attention, with the Earl of Sandwich when that nobleman played on the kettledrum, his favourite instrument at the music meetings. ‘What has become of poor Omai?’ was the question once asked on some festive occasion. ‘Oh,’ was the answer, ‘I have just left him in the tea room, very happy, gallantly handing about bread and butter, to the ladies.’” Omai was not averse to admiration, and adapted himself curiously to his new life, showing such an aptitude for dancing, among other things, that a lady assured me with a little tuition he would make an excellent partner. On one occasion Lord Sandwich proposed that he should dress a shoulder of mutton, after the fashion of his country, and he proceeded accordingly to dig a hole in the lawn at Hinchingbrook, placed fuel covered with clean pebbles at the bottom, then laid the mutton neatly enveloped in leaves at the top, and having closed the hole walked constantly round it, observing the sun. The joint was then served at table, and much commended. Having been offered some stewed morella cherries, he jumped up, and assured the society he no more wished to partake of human blood, than they did. One summer’s day he entered the breakfast room at Hinchingbrook, in great pain, his hand much swollen, not being acquainted with the word “wasp,” he made Dr. Solander, who was present, understand he had been wounded by a “soldier bird,” upon which the doctor remarked: “No naturalist could have better described the obnoxious insect.” “He was,” says Cradock, “naturally genteel, and prepossessing, and fond of good clothes, once finding fault with those prepared for him, as being inferior to the quality of the dress, of the same cut the gentleman who sat beside him wore—this was of Genoese, and Omai’s of English velvet.” So far had he advanced in civilization. The government judged it best, he should return to his own country, lest the natives should suspect us of having made away with him. Mr. Cradock says he bade him good-bye on the steps of the Admiralty, when the poor fellow was deeply affected. Captain Cook says his feelings were mingled: “When he talked on the voyage, about England, and his friends, and protectors there, he was much moved, and could scarcely refrain from tears, so full of gratitude was his heart—but when we spoke of his return to his country, his eyes sparkled in the expectation of the reception he should meet with, on account of his superior knowledge, and still more on account of the treasures, with which he was laden.” The King, Lord Sandwich, Mr. Bankes (afterwards Sir Joseph), and many other friends, had furnished him with every article, which the sailors’ knowledge of the country, made them believe would be acceptable there. In fact, every means had been taken during his abode in England, as also at his departure, to make him the instrument of conveying to the Islands of the Pacific Ocean, an exalted opinion of England’s greatness, and generosity. Omai, as may have been conjectured, was very useful to Captain Cook on the voyage out, serving as interpreter, and mediator, on many occasions, at the Friendly Islands, and elsewhere. On their arrival at Otaheite, several canoes came off, but Omai took no notice of the crews or they of him, neither did they appear to recognise him, as a countryman. At length Ootee, a chief, brother-in-law to Omai, and three or four others, who all knew him before he went to England, came on board. But their meeting was in no wise tender—on the contrary, great indifference was manifested on both sides, till Omai, taking Ootee down into the cabin, displayed his treasures of trinkets etc., but more especially some red feathers, of a few of which, he begged his relative’s acceptance. When this was known on deck, the whole state of affairs was changed, and Ootee, who would scarcely speak to Omai before, now begged they might be Tayos (friends) and exchange names—an honour Omai accepted with dignity, and Ootee, in return for the valuable feathers, sent on shore for a hog. Such were the civilities that passed, on our friend’s return, and it was evident that all the affection was for his property, and not his person. When present at some of the barbarous customs, prevalent in these Islands, Omai, by desire of Captain Cook, expostulated with the chiefs on their cruelty with so much spirit, as to incur their displeasure. The gallant commander gives an elaborate account of the dainties prepared for him, and some of the ship’s crew, when they dined on shore with the two brothers-in-law. Captain Cook endeavoured to persuade Omai to settle at Otaheite, but his wishes turned to Whetea, his native place, where his father had originally held land. The Captain thought he could get it restored to him, if he would make friends with the conquerors, but Omai was a staunch patriot, and refused, begging that he might be reinstated through the intervention of the English arms. No way likely, said Captain Cook, who, however, willing to serve him, sought an interview with the chief men of the Island, to induce them to permit Omai to reside at Huaheine. A grand function took place, when Omai made his offering to the gods, of red feathers, and fine cloth from England; and a set of prayers dictated by himself, was pronounced, in which his English friends were duly remembered, Lord Sandwich and Tootee (Cook) in particular. He also told them of his kind reception in England by the King and his Earees, (nobles), that he had returned enriched with all sorts of treasures, that would be useful to his countrymen, etc., and that it was Captain Cook’s wish that they should give him a piece of land to build a house, etc.; and that if they would not do so——here followed some threats, which the Englishman had to disavow, and the chiefs were so much edified by the gallant sailor’s speech, that one of them assured him, the whole Island was his own, and therefore he could give what portion he pleased, to his friend. The result of all this was, that land was granted, and the ships’ carpenters built Omai a house, and laid out, and planted his small garden. He found several relatives at Huaheine, “who did not indeed rob him,” says Captain Cook, “but I fear they are scarcely of sufficient influence, to protect him from others.” The kind Englishman was under great apprehension, at the danger Omai incurred from being the only rich man in the Island, and he took every precaution he could think of, to ensure his safety, declaring that he would soon revisit the Island, and if any one had proved an enemy to Omai, he might dread the wrath of the British commander. All the English treasures were carried on shore, as soon as Omai’s house had progressed sufficiently—pots, kettles, dishes, plates, and better still, a box of toys and of fireworks—the latter an object of pleasure, and fear to the inhabitants. But most of the English utensils were useless to him here, and he wisely disposed of them, for hatchets, or other tools.

Before he sailed, Captain Cook saw Omai settled in his own house, with an establishment consisting of his brother, and eight or nine other men, (no female—Omai was too volatile to choose a wife), and there the English officers were received with hospitality and excellent cheer. Cook made the new householder, a present of several fire-arms, which he coveted, and had the following inscription cut on the house:

At four in the afternoon, of the 2nd of November, the two English vessels sailed. “Many of the Natives remained on board, to hear five guns fired, and then took their leave, but Omai lingered, till we were at sea, and then returned in a boat, sent to recover a hawser that had been broken. He took leave of his English friends, and showed a moody resolution till he approached Captain Cook, to bid him farewell. Then his tears could no longer be suppressed, and he wept the whole time the boat was going ashore.” Captain Cook heard from him when the ships were at Whetea; he sent two men in a canoe to say, that he was prospering and at peace, and that his only misfortune consisted in the loss of a goat, who had died in kidding.

One would gladly have heard something of the latter days of Omai, and can only hope that his state of semi-civilization did not make him discontented, with his life in Otaheite, or obnoxious to its inhabitants. If, as is most probable, the terrible details of his benefactor’s murder ever reached him, the grateful heart of Omai must have been wrung with sorrow.

Count Walewski.

Born, 1801. Died, 1868.—He was the son of the Emperor Napoleon I., by a Polish lady of rank. When only nineteen he went on a diplomatic mission to London, to plead the cause of Poland, having inherited from his mother, an enthusiastic love for her country. Charles Greville says in his Diary, that “his agreeable manners and remarkable beauty made him welcome in society;” and in 1831, he married Lady Caroline Montagu, sister to the Earl of Sandwich. He served for a time, under the Polish flag; was present at the Battle of Grokow, and was decorated with the National Military Cross. He afterwards obtained a commission in a regiment of French Hussars, but before long he laid down the sword to take up the pen. Among his past publications was “Un mot sur la question d’Afrique, et de l’alliance Anglaise.” He became the editor of the Messager, and wrote a five-act comedy, called “L’Ecole du Monde,” which was put on the stage in 1840.

He resumed his diplomatic career in the same year, and was sent to Egypt under the ministry of Thiers; he also held several appointments under Guizot.

When Louis Napoleon became President, Walewski attached himself to his cause. In 1849, he went as minister to Florence, and Naples, and in 1854, he came as Ambassador to England, but was recalled to Paris, the ensuing year, to take the portfolio of Foreign Affairs, vacant by the resignation of M. Drouyn de l’Huys. In this post his connection with, and knowledge of, England, made him instrumental in cementing the alliance of the two nations. In 1856, he presided as French Plenipotentiary over the Congress of Paris. In 1860, he resigned his post, but was again employed as successor to M. Fould. In 1863, he retired from public life, it was supposed on account of his strong Polish tendencies. He had the Grand Cross of the Legion of Honour, and other decorations.

He married as his second wife the grand-daughter of Stanislaus Poniatowski, nephew to the last King of Poland. To France and its Emperor, he was an irreparable loss.

William Poyntz, Esquire:

By SIR GEORGE HAYTER.

Born, 1769. Died, 1840. The last male representative of the ancient family of Poyntz. His grandfather, Stephen Poyntz, was in diplomacy, and employed on several foreign missions. He married Anna Maria Mordaunt, cousin of the Earl of Peterborough, and Maid of Honour to Caroline, Queen of George II. To Mr. and Mrs. Poyntz’s care was confided the bringing up, of William, Duke of Cumberland, and a curious picture was painted, according to the taste of the day, in which the Queen presents her son to her ci-devant Maid of Honour, the lady in the garb of Minerva, and the young Prince in the stiff coat and breeches of the period. Mrs. Poyntz’s influence at Court stood her once in good stead, when she pleaded in behalf of Lord Cromartie, under sentence of death in the ’15, in compliance with a touching appeal from his unhappy wife. The letter is now in possession of Mrs. Poyntz’s great grand-daughter, Mary Boyle. Lord Cromartie’s life was spared, though fortune, and title were lost to him. The Queen bestowed as a dowry on Miss Mordaunt, the estate of Midgham, in Berkshire, but the gift is said never to have been paid for, out of the royal purse!

Stephen died in 1750, and was succeeded by his son William, who married a daughter and co-heiress of Kelland Courtenay, Esq., of Painsford, Devon, by Elizabeth Montagu, daughter of Viscount Hinchingbrook. They had issue: William Stephen, the subject of this notice, Montagu Mordaunt, who died early in life, and four daughters; Georgiana, married first to Mr. Fawkner, and afterwards to Lord John Townshend; Louisa, married, as his second wife, to the Hon. George Bridgeman; Isabella, married to her cousin, the Earl of Cork and Orrery; and Carolina, married to his brother Captain, the Hon. Courtenay Boyle. William Poyntz was at one time in the Tenth Hussars, and afterwards Captain of the Midhurst Volunteers. In 1796, he sat in Parliament for St. Albans, and was re-elected in 1802, and 1806. In 1807, he was returned for Callington, and again in 1812-18. He represented Chichester from 1823 to 1826, and Ashburton, from 1831 to 1835; and then sat for Midhurst, till he resigned, and was succeeded by his son-in-law, Captain the Hon. Frederick Spencer. In politics he was a Liberal in the best sense of the word; firm and unwavering in his opinions in favour of progress, but opposed to destruction, and a staunch upholder of the Church.

In 1794, he married the Hon. Elizabeth Browne, only sister, and sole heiress of Viscount Montagu, who was drowned the year before at the Falls of Schaffausen. By her, Mr. Poyntz became possessed of Cowdray Park, in Sussex, and an extensive property, where they resided almost entirely after their marriage. They had two sons drowned in the prime of life, and in the sight of both parents, Mr. Poyntz being in the boat, and his wife looking on from the window of a house at Bognor, where the tragedy took place in 1815. Their three daughters in consequence became co-heiresses: Frances, Lady Clinton; Elizabeth, married to the Hon. Frederick Spencer, who succeeded to the Earldom; and Isabella, Marchioness of Exeter.

In 1830, after a happy union of thirty-six years, Mrs. Poyntz died, deeply and universally regretted; and the widower removed to Hampton Court, after a time, to be nearer his daughters. For some years before his death, he was the cause of great anxiety to his family and friends from being constantly subject to fainting fits, the result, as was afterwards proved, of an accident in the hunting field, in 1833. In one of these seizures he expired suddenly, at his house on Hampton Court Green, beloved and lamented, not only by his surviving children, and his two surviving sisters, but by a large circle of acquaintance, and friends. In every class he was known, and loved for his warm heart, his genial humour, his sparkling wit. He was interred by the side of his wife, in her ancestral chapel in Easebourne Church, adjoining Cowdray Park, where a monument had been already erected to their two sons.

In early life Mr. Poyntz was a friend, and companion of his cousin George, Lord Sandwich, by whose will he was entrusted with the guardianship of the young earl, then only seven years of age. Between the guardian and his ward an affection subsisted, scarcely inferior to that of parent, and child. Lord Sandwich spent many of his holidays at Cowdray, and the friendly relations which subsisted between him, and Mr. Poyntz were never interrupted till the death of the latter, in 1840.

The two families of Poyntz and Browne, (Lord Montagu) are now extinct, in the male line.