An Object Label with a Story: Death of a Missionary Bishop

I have been transcribing some of the Museum's old hand-written labels. Each label will be filed as part of the "related documents" for the specific object and the relevant information added to the Museum's object database. The labels have become separated from the objects and do not always include the Museum identity number for the actual object. So a bit of detective work is sometimes required to match the information to the appropriate object.

The tiny neat hand-writing is lovely to look at but the content of the label is usually basic and not particularly interesting. Typically it will only say what the object is, the year the Museum acquired the object, the name of the donor, and where it is from.

Some of the labels I have been transcribing

Recently I came across a remarkable label that included more text than usual and even referred to a brutal death. This is what the label says:

Type of dancing club used in SANTA CRUZ group. Was labelled "Norfolk I. Facsimile of club wh. killed Bp. Patteson". L.M.S. states that he was clubbed & speared at NUKAPU, S. CRUZ group. L.M.S. station is on NORFOLK I. d.d. HEREFORD mus.

L.M.S stands for the London Missionary Society and d.d. for the Latin dono dedit, meaning 'gave as a gift'.

You can see the actual label below, plus the dance club it refers to - which the labels says is similar to the one used to kill Patteson.

Left: Club PRM 1942.1.408, right: the object label © Pitt Rivers Museum

Intrigued, I did some exploring and found out this was not a straightforward story. Bishop John Coleridge Patteson (1827-71) was the first missionary Bishop of Melanesia and was related to the poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge, his mother was Coleridge's niece. He went to Balliol College in Oxford from 1845 to 1848 and became a Fellow of Merton College in 1852. He was ordained in 1854 and, in the same year, was recruited by Bishop Welwyn of New Zealand for missionary work in the South Seas. They left for Auckland together the following year.

Patteson was a good linguist, who mastered many local languages, and made many friends among the indigenous people. It was in 1861 he became Bishop of Melanesia where he worked tirelessly for many years in this vast diocese, crossing the seas again and again.

So why did he meet such a violent death, brought about by the very people he had been working for?

It seems there were no witnesses of the actual murder. When he visited Nukapu in the Solomon Islands in September 1871 he went ashore alone. Separated from the others on the ship, who were then attacked, no one knew what had happened to the Bishop. His body was later found in a canoe floating in the sea, covered with palm fibre matting. On his chest was a palm branch.

The most plausible explanation appears to be he was mistaken as a slave-trader. At the time, many men in the area were kidnapped by the 'blackbirders', who used tricks and violence to recruit labourers for the sugar plantations in Queensland and Fiji. In Nukapu five men had allegedly just been taken away by 'blackbirders' when the Bishop and his colleagues arrived. The timing, therefore, seems to have been desperately unfortunate.

An alternative point of view argues that he had unintentionally made enemies of the mothers of the Island by taking their young sons away. Boys going to be educated at his School were away from home for several years. Some have suggested these women might not have clearly understood the difference between the missionaries and the slave-traders.

The death of Bishop Patteson made headline news in England. This caused people to take an interest in both Christian missionary work and human-trafficking in Britain's Pacific territory. Public outrage resulted in stricter enforcement of the law regulating the recruitment of plantation labourers. In addition, there was a call for the improvement of their working conditions.

There is a memorial to Patteson in the chapel at Merton College in Oxford.

Left: the Chapel at Merton College, Oxford; middle and right: details of the memorials inside the Chapel
including the one to Patteson © Fusa McLynn

After researching this story I think there are still a few questions about this incident that remain unanswered. A recent paper by two Norwegian researchers re-examines the circumstances of Bishop Patteson's death and makes some fascinating suggestions. Plus I would love to know more about the connection with Hereford Museum, who donated this object to the Museum.

You can see the dance club on display in the Upper Gallery on the top floor of the Museum in case U30A.

Fusa McLynn
Collections Volunteer

References and Suggested Further Reading:

C.H. Brooke, "The Death of Bishop Patteson", Mission Life: An Illustrated Magazine of Home and Foreign Church Work, ed. Rev. J.J. Holcombe, M.A., Vol. III, Part I (new series), London: W. Wells Gardner (1872), pp. 1-23

Reverend H.N. Drummond, Bishop Patteson Pioneer and Martyr, Parkstone: Ralph and Brown (1930)

T. Kolshus and E. Hovdhaugen, "Reassessing the death of Bishop John Coleridge Patteson", Journal of Pacific History, Vol. 45, Issue 3 (2010), pp. 331-355

Researching Melanesian Kapkaps

Kapkap display awaiting new labels

My volunteer work at the Museum currently involves working on new labels to appear in a series of displays featuring Melanesian body ornaments. When I look at the objects in the display cases, what stand out - with their striking contrast of dark and white in mysterious geometric patterns - are the 'kapkaps'. The name sounds rather cute, doesn't it?

A traditionally made kapkap, which is worn around the neck or on the forehead, is a circular white clamshell disc overlaid with carved dark-brown turtle-shell fretwork. I was attracted and intrigued by these beautiful objects.

Finding out how they were produced was exciting and enjoyable. I found an informative article entitled "Of Skin, blood, and bone: The kapkap of New Ireland" by Graeme Were in 'Melanesia: Art and encounter' (British Museum, 2013).

The kapkaps on display in the Museum are from Papua New Guinea and the Solomon Islands. I learnt from this article that the significance of kapkaps, and the process of making them, varies - not only over time - but within the different areas of Papua New Guinea and the Solomon Islands.

Were analyses in detail the production and use of kapkaps by the Nalik speaking people in northern New Ireland, Papua New Guinea.

Two of the kapkaps on display from New Ireland, Papua New Guinea
From left to right: PRM 1938.36.1702 and PRM 1938.36.1703 © Pitt Rivers Museum

I describe some of this process below, which is specific to this particular area.

Giant clam shells on display in the Lower Gallery of the
Museum © Pitt Rivers Museum

Making a kapkap is a long and complicated process.

First, the clamshell plate, which has been heated, dried and cooled down to be hardened, is ground down. This is done in a secluded place by a group of men, who take this in turn, using a stone tool. Apparently just this process may take several weeks.

After the cooperative effort of the initial stage, the second stage - carving the turtle-shell - is a solitary business. A chosen local craftsman goes on a fast, and collects certain leaves from the forest, bundles them, and buries them in the sand on the beach as an offering. Then, in his dream, he receives an image of the kapkap to be created. In a special shelter - in a secluded location - the craftsman works along carving the turtle-shell, which is traditionally done with a shark's tooth.

The final stage is to put the smoothed clamshell disc and the turtle-shell fretwork together. A hole is drilled in the centre of each of them, through which a string is threaded and knotted to secure the two plates on top of each other.

It is said that the kapkap has a magical power to create or to ward off sorcery. For this reason, apart from at mortuary feasts, it is rarely seen publicly and is mostly hidden in some dark corner of the clan chief's house. The more power he gets in the community, the more complicated becomes the pattern of his kapkap. When he dies, his kapkap also dies. The clamshell disc and the turtle-shell fretwork are separated and are either burned, or buried, with him. Sometimes the clamshell disc is kept for recycling.

You can see these fascinating objects for yourself on the Lower Gallery on the first floor of the Museum. If you are not able to visit in person, you can look at some of the kapkaps in the Museum collection using the online object catalogue. Simply enter 'Melanesia' under continent, select 'ornament' under classification, then enter 'shell' and 'turtle' for materials. Finally perform your search.

In this podcast recorded in the Museum's galleries, listen to Graeme Were in conversation with Ben Burt (British Museum), talking about these fascinating shell ornaments:



Fusa McLynn
Collections Volunteer

Chamberlain Japanese Collection and Ginkaku-ji

When I went to Japan in early November and stayed in Kyoto for a few days, I visited a few temples including Ginkaku-ji (Temple of the Silver Pavilion). It is designated as a national treasure of Japan, and is very popular among both Japanese and foreign tourists.

Ginkaku-ji with 'Kogetsudai' (Moon viewing platform) in the centre © Fusa McLynn

One of the reasons why I wanted to visit Ginkaku-ji was, in fact, the Chamberlain collection. The collection includes numerous maps and plans of holy places as well as amulets from Japan. One of the maps shows Ginkaku-ji with its garden including 'Kogetsudai' (Moon viewing platform) clearly marked. My English friend once called it a Christmas pudding. You can see why if you look at the photo above.

Map of Ginkaku-ji in the Pitt Rivers Museum Chamberlain collection PRM 1908.82.465 © Pitt Rivers Museum

At the top margin of the map, there is a poem with the name of the poet. The name reads as 'Jishoin dono Yoshimasa ko'. This is the 8th Muromachi shogun, Ashikaga Yoshimasa (1436 - 1490), who was the founder of Ginkaku-ji.

The place did not originally start as a temple but was actually designed as an elegant villa for Yoshimasa. He was a very cultured man but tragically weak. He failed to take strong political leadership and so became responsible for the outbreak of a civil war, which lasted 10 years and ruined Kyoto completely. Having had enough with politics, he retired, abandoned his official residence, and made his son the next shogun, allowing his wife Hino Tomiko to become extremely powerful. (She is one of very few women who came to power in Japanese history). Then he started to build this villa in 1482. Rather sadly he never saw its completion. Although he was a disastrous ruler, he played an important role to develop Japanese traditional arts such as flower arrangement and tea ceremony. He was also talented in garden designing. After his death, the place became a Zen temple of the Rinzai sect. Thus it is now called Ginkaku-ji (ji means temple in Japanese). But it is a sort of nickname and the formal name is 'Jisho-ji', which takes after Yoshimasa's posthumous name.

When I opened the information leaflet given at the temple, the first thing I saw was a familiar map of the place! It is not totally identical to the one at the Pitt Rivers but it is very similar.

The cover and map page of the information leaflet © Fusa McLynn

Thinking about the troubled and miserable shogun who left such a beautiful legacy, and B.H. Chamberlain who was so well versed in Japanese art and literature, I enjoyed walking in the garden under the warm autumn sun.

The garden at Ginkaku-ji © Fusa McLynn

Fusa McLynn
Collections Volunteer