CAPE YORK’S
WILD WHITE MAN
THE STORY OF NARCISSE PELLATIER
Cummins and Campbell Journal
December 1948
 
       
          One of the interesting characters we used to meet in
          the Torres Strait islands was an old fellow named Johnny
          Maori. His father was a Maori who had served in one of the
          beche-de-mer vessels, and his mother was a South Sea Islander
          woman from Aneitym. As a lad he himself was on a beche-de-mer
          boat, but after his father was killed in an island episode in
          which women were concerned, Johnny found himself at Somerset,
          up at the top of cape York, where he experienced various
          adventures on land and sea.
       
          Frequently, in the later years of his life, he would
          recount some of these incidents; and it so happened that in
          more than one instance, his statements were fully verified,
          and perhaps given in greater detail, in the records in the old
          Somerset official letter books, set down by the men who
          occupied the post of Government resident.
       
          Such, for example were the story of the Tragedy of the
          “Sperwer,” of which the Captain and crew were killed at Prince
          of Wales Island, and the captain’s wife (Mrs Gascoigne), taken
          prisoner by the islanders; and the strange story which is here
          related concerning a young French lad who, escaping from the
          wrecked ship, “St. Paul,” lived 17 years with the aboriginals
          of the cape York area and brought into Somerset. At about the
          period that the “wild white man” was brought in, Johnny was
          associated with the native police at Somerset.
       
          It was one day in April 1875, that the community at
          Somerset watched a brig anchoring in the bay. She was the
          “John Bell,” commanded by Captain Frazer, a vessel of about
          200 tons working down the East Coast in search of pearl shell.
          When her boat presently pulled ashore, seated in it but
          fastened so that he could not escape was a strange wild-eyed
          frightened creature. His skin was as dark as that of an
          aboriginal, a piece of sharpened wood ornamented one ear; his
          body was scarified with curious markings. He mouthed strange
          words, and tugged lean fingers through his ochre painted hair.
       
          The “John Bell’s” captain told the Magistrate that they
          had found the man when they were in the vicinity of Cape
          Direction (out from Lloyd Bay), cutting firewood. There was,
          of course, then no white settlement in this region of the
          coast 200 miles or so south from Thursday Island. But several
          thousand natives, some of whom were addicted to cannibalism,
          roamed the wilds. There were at least sixty tribes then,
          including the wild Yagulles, (who had been concerned earlier
          in the murder of Kennedy), the Gudango, and the Katchialaigas.
          It was amongst a tribe of friendly blacks who had come down to
          the coast that the white man was found. 
At first the
          crew had taken him for an aboriginal. When they discovered
          that he was not, they induced him to get into the boat (much
          against the wishes of his native friends, and not altogether
          in accord with his own), and brought him up to Somerset in his
          stark nakedness.
It was some
          little while before Lieutenant Chester, the then Government
          Resident, could get much out of him. He seemed to have lost
          acquaintance with his own tongue. But it was found that he was
          a Frenchman, and someone on the station, who happened to know
          French, talked with him. Ultimately a remarkable tale was
          unfolded.
The refugee’s
          name was Narcisse Pierre Pallatier (in some of the records it
          is written as Pelletier). He was the son of a Bordeaux
          shoemaker, and had shipped as a cabin boy- in the year 1858 it
          was subsequently found- in the three masted ship “St Paul,”
          which had a charter to convey 320 Chinese from Hong Kong to
          Sydney.
Sailing from
          Bordeaux, they successfully embarked the Chinese, who were
          looking forward to walking the gold paved paths of Australia
          in those gold boom days. The ship’s captain decided to take a
          short cut to Sydney round the northern New Guinea coast and
          then down through the Solomons. Their troubles began, however,
          when they encountered a succession of calms, followed by heavy
          weather, then the navigation instruments were damaged, and the
          “St Paul” was found to be off her course, in what a
          supplementary report of the captain’s which I have seen
          described quaintly as “inhospitable country.” The report added
          that this knowledge, combined with what they had heard
          concerning the savage nature of the people, was “far from
          pleasant.”
It was in the
          midst of their distressful imaginings that the vessel struck a
          reef in the vicinity of Rossel Island, in the Louisade
          Archipelago, to the south-east of the lower tip of New Guinea.
          “Lions and tigers are not more bloodthirsty than the savages
          of these islands,” the captain of the “St. Paul” had declared;
          and later events proved him right.
Narcisse told
          the Government Resident that the shipwrecked company managed
          to reach a small island which appeared to be uninhabited. But
          the captain was faced with a new fear. If he brought the
          Chinese ashore there would be no means of keeping them in
          confinement as on board ship, and they might take things into
          their own hands, Accordingly, the Europeans proceeded to
          another island, telling the Chinese they were going to seek
          succour at the nearest British port.
It was then
          that misfortune met them again. Hostile natives attacked them
          and killed some of their men; so in all haste they returned to
          the Chinese, put together some food, filled three pairs of sea
          boots with water as drinking supply, and set off in search of
          aid. It was night when Narcisse and his companions set off in
          the open boat on the 600 mile journey to the Australian
          mainland.
Days later,
          after terrible suffering they arrived off the Great Barrier
          Reef, managed to negotiate one of the openings, and landed on
          the beach somewhere near Cape Direction. Eagerly they searched
          for water, and found a pool to slake their parching thirst.
But Narcisse
          wandered off into the bush- he says the others were so anxious
          to drink that he, being only a boy, was thrust aside- and when
          he came back on to the beach again, it was to see the boat in
          the distance. His fellows had gone off without him.
A party of
          keen eyed blacks came upon their tracks, found the exhausted
          boy, and took him into their tribe. And so for 17 years he
          lived with them, roaming the jungle, hunting with them, taking
          part in their ceremonies, and initiated as one of themselves.
          Many ships must have sailed up and down the coast during those
          years. Exploring parties were investigating the mysteries of
          the Peninsula. But Narcisse remained there with his black
          friends, hidden away until the day the “John Bell’s” people
          came upon him.
While he was
          at Somerset he made several attempts to get away. He wanted to
          be back amongst his aboriginal people who had succoured him.
          The strange new life was something he did not understand. He
          made a number of sketches, when given pencil and paper, of
          various types of aboriginal, native animals, and other things,
          as he awaited a ship that was to take him to Sydney and back
          to his Bordeaux home. Brisbane people made a subscription to
          assist him to return home. And one can imagine the wealth of
          adventure he would have to recount to the wondering people of
          Bordeaux when eventually he once more embraced his own family.
The men in the
          boat who had left Narcisse to his fate were picked up by the
          “Rose of Denmark,” bound for New Caledonia. There they
          narrated their story, and the French steamer “Styx,” was sent
          off straightaway to find out how the stranded Chinese were
          faring. She arrived at Rossel Island one day early in June
          1859. It was then they learned the terrible fate that had
          fallen the unhappy Asian gold seekers.
Of the 320
          Chinese, all but one or two had been massacred- not all at
          once, but killed off and eaten as their savage captors
          desired. The captain stated that he left arms and ammunition
          with them; but there was apparently some reason why the doomed
          men were unable to defend themselves.
In later
          years, there was a rumour that some other Chinese had escaped,
          and were alive on the east coast of Rossel Island. Sir William
          Macgregor, then Administrator of British New Guinea,
          accordingly visited Rossel Island to ascertain the truth of
          the stories, but could discover nothing further.
The natives
          themselves denied the story of the massacre, and said that the
          Chinese, after landing and obtaining water, sugarcane and
          coconuts, had left on rafts northward. But it was felt (after
          official enquiry), that the correct version was that given
          above.
What the
          Captain and men of the “St Paul had to offer by way of
          explanation for leaving young Narcisse to his fate is not
          recorded in anything that one has come across, although at the
          time the newspaper carried stories of the tragic events
          associated with the ship’s loss. And whether Narcisse set out
          again in search of further adventure one is also unable to
          say.