1857 - Askew, J. A Voyage to Australia and New Zealand [New Zealand sections] - CHAPTER VI.

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CHAPTER VI.

MAITLAND is a town as large as Uxbridge, which it much resembles. A beautiful river the size of the Colne, meanders through it; and its sloping banks are laid out in neat parterres, well-cultivated gardens, and fruitful orchards, where flowers, and herbs, and fruit, grew in abundance.

The surrounding country, and the manner in which it was divided into fields, reminded me of Middlesex and Buckinghamshire.

All the inns, and even the small public-houses, had the chequers upon the door-posts, as may be

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seen in the above-named counties. The neat little church, situate in the central part of the town, is a fac-simile of many I have seen in the south of England. The houses and shops surrounding the church called to mind the pretty village of Hillingdon, near Uxbridge. Some of the houses are of wood, rest upon wheels, and may be moved from one locality to another. The major part of the buildings are of brick, and a most irregular kind of architecture obtains.

There are many fine inns, and two or three coffee houses, where accommodation could be obtained at a reasonable rate. I went into one of the most respectable. It had a pillared front, and two projecting wings, and was only one storey high. At the entrance, placards were hung, stating the bill of fare. One of these was headed by the Australian arms, painted in water-colours, and manifesting little artistic skill, having also the motto--"Advance Australia," in large letters, on a red ribbon at the bottom. I was conducted through the place by the owner, who appeared desirous of making his customers as comfortable as possible. Some of the back rooms had been turned into shoemakers' shops to suit the requirements of some of his permanent boarders. These each paid him 14s. per week, a sum which many could earn in a single day.

There are several extensive corn mills, soaperies, tanneries and boiling-down establishments, in the

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vicinity of Maitland. Great quantities of tallow are sent from here to Sydney for exportation.

Maitland has one newspaper. The Maitland Mercury, published twice every week, is well-conducted, and very popular throughout the colony. I was taken through the establishment by a brother of the editor and proprietor, with whom I became acquainted on my first visit to Maitland. The proprietor's house and the offices of the paper are under one roof, in a neat edifice, built of red brick, two storeys high, and situate in the central part of the town in the principal street. The words "Mercury Office," are painted in large black letters on a white ground, and were affixed to the eastern gable. The western end was overshadowed by a magnificent white cedar. In the rear, there is a large paddock, where Mr. Jones keeps two horses for his own use. The newspaper was printed by a Columbian press, constructed on an improved principle, and everything about the place was in first-rate order. In the clerks' office I met with a fellow Cumbrian, Mr. Carruthers, from Carlisle. He was the chief clerk; but he was then unwell, and had been at Newcastle only a few days before, consulting Dr. Bowker. It gave him much pleasure to converse with one who came from the same county in England, which he was likely never to see again. The pleasure was not one-sided.

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In the afternoon I vent to Mr. Gorrick's, and booked for a seat in the mail-cart returning next morning to Newcastle. This done, I partook of some refreshment with Mr. Jones, and then strolled out through the western part of the town into the country, taking the direction of Singleton. About a mile out, I came to a neat little dairy farm, and in the barn almost adjoining the house, two men were thrashing corn with flails. This was the first time since my arrival in the colony, that I heard this familiar sound, and I could scarcely resist going into the barn to have a swing with an old acquaintance. During my stay in Sydney, several complaints among the farmers had found their way into the newspapers. The farmers of Golburn in particular, complained of the rapid spread of the Scotch burr. This weed is a great annoyance to the Australian agriculturists. Indeed, so great a pest is it, that one correspondent of the Sydney Herald stated, that some fields in Golburn had been covered to such an extent that they were nearly valueless. I made several enquiries of the farmers in Maitland, but found that although it did exist there, it had not been productive of much injury,

London and its vicinity appears to have supplied the greatest part of the population of Maitland. The Cockney idiom is to be heard in every part of the town.

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There are no places of public amusement, nor free concert-rooms as in Sydney. The principal pastime among those who frequent the inns is "Judge and Jury," a sort of performance in which parties personate the various characters of judge, jury, lawyer, criminal, &c. The cases brought before these mock tribunals are mostly of such a description as renders the morality of such pastime far from commendable. Maitland is noted for its horse-races. They are held annually, and attract great numbers of people from all parts of New South Wales.

Farm labourers were much in request. Wages were high, and food cheap and abundant. There is ample room for a large population between Maitland and Morton Bay. The land for hundreds of miles round is the richest in the world, either for pasturage or agriculture. Thousands of sheep, horses and cattle roam about in the immense plain, and hundreds never return to their owners, straying into the mountainous regions of New England, they become wild, and afford sport for the Australian hunter. Many a daring sportsman and his steed have perished in this perilous chase.

The Maitland women are very pretty, the young women especially. I do not remember seeing a single face that could be called either ugly or forbidding. The entire place had a well-to-do contented like appearance. I could not help thinking

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how different in that respect this fine inland town was to similar towns at home. There was not a beggar to be seen; nor were there any pitiable ballad-singers, nor tormenting music grinders. Every one who could work had plenty to do, and was well paid for doing it. Like all other towns in the colony, it had too many public-houses. These to a great extent, absorbed the savings of the working-classes, and were highly detrimental to the interests of the community.

After strolling about till nightfall, I returned to the Mercury establishment, where I remained till morning. About six o'clock, the mail cart was ready for starting. The passengers were a gold-digger and his wife, a pitman's wife, and myself, A short distance from Maitland, the driver stopped to take up another passenger, an old German lady, who lived in a neat cottage by the roadside. A little pet dog was her companion, and she detained us a quarter of an hour in making arrangements for it till her return. At length, she made her appearance, and a singular one it was. Her style of dress had been obsolete at least sixty years. She wore a light buff-coloured gown, very straight in the skirt and short in the waist, with tight-fitting sleeves, fastened by a band round the wrist. A small drab-coloured shawl, fastened in front with a gold pin, covered her shoulders. A false front of dark auburn hair, fell in ringlets over her brow.

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A large Leghorn bonnet, with a light brown gauze veil attached, adorned her head. Her feet were encased in high-quartered shoes, well blackballed, and neatly fastened with black silk ribbon. Australia was the last place in the world where I would have expected to meet with such an old fashion on a living model. The old lady was highly amused when we told her that she must be a very important personage, or the royal mail would not have stayed till she supplied the wants of her dog. While we were talking, crack went the whip, and away we bounded through the mazes of the forest. After an hour's pleasant drive, we arrived at the half-way house, and partook of an excellent breakfast. The German lady was shown into a private room, upstairs; but not relishing her morning meal in that unsocial style, she speedily joined us at the public breakfast-table. Her private history was, doubtless, an interesting one, though none of her fellow-passengers knew anything of it, and on the subject she was silent; yet all might easily perceive, from her politeness and general demeanour, that she had seen better days.

When the allotted time had passed, we resumed our journey, and speedily reached the foot of Iron Bark Brow. Here we all dismounted, and walked to the top. When near the summit I turned round, and was rather surprised to see the poor old lady nearly exhausted, and only a short distance from

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the base of the hill. The gold-digger and myself immediately returned to her assistance. She very good-humouredly charged us with lack of gallantry, for which we apologized as politely as possible.

We soon after passed Iron Bark Farm, got upon the good road, and in the course of half-an-hour, the Nobbies and Fitz Roy pillar made their appearance. A few minutes after we went into Newcastle full speed; and such were the excellent qualities of our horses, that they seemed almost as fresh as when they left Maitland.

The William Hyde was now ready for her cargo. The fittings for the cattle and horses in the 'tween decks were complete, and the upper deck was covered with sheep-pens, made of thin scantlings nailed to the bulwarks. The cattle were shipped first. They had been driven into a fold upon the wharf, close to the vessel. At the entrance of the fold stood a sailor, having in his hand a long pole, by which he threw a running nooze over the head of the nearest animal. The nooze was attached to a rope which run through a pulley at the end of the mainyard. As soon as the nooze was affixed, the rope was hauled taut by those on board. The animal was then dragged by the neck into the water, close to the ship, a fore leg was then thrust through the nooze to prevent strangulation. An instant after, the animal was suspended in the air, swung over the hatchway, and lowered into the

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hold. The cattle were all treated in this way, and many were severely injured. The horses were similarly managed; but when each reached the water it was conveyed between two boats fastened together by a spar across their bows, so that a horse could pass between them. A pair of strong canvas stays were then drawn underneath by an iron crook. On both sides of the stays were loops through which passed the rope that connected them with the block at the mainyard. A rope also prevented the stays from slipping. Three horses, harnessed in a light wagon, to which the tackle was attached, were driven along the wharf, raising the other horse into the air, where it was allowed to remain till it ceased pawing; the rope was then loosed from the wagon, and the animal gradually lowered into the hold. Two days were occupied in putting the cattle and horses on board. A gangway was then made for the sheep, and they were all driven on board in an hour.

There were upwards of 140 cattle, between 40 and 50 horses, 700 sheep, about 30 rams, and two calves. The whole of this living cargo was from Patrick's Plains, in the neighbourhood of Singleton. The average cost of the cattle was about £5 each, and the horses £10. The most valuable amongst them cost £40. The sheep cost about 6s. each.

The cattle were a mixed lot. Brown was the prevailing colour. They were all in good condition,

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and two or three of them gave a considerable supply of milk. The horses were light-limbed, none would be more than 14 hands high, and some much below that. The prevailing colours were light bay and chesnut. A beautiful chesnut horse was killed by slipping out of the stays whilst suspended from the mainyard. The sheep were of the Spanish or Merino breed, and when fat would weigh about 401bs. each; but they are more prized for fine wool than for feeding properties in New South Wales.

Large ironbound trusses of hay were lashed on each side of the poop, and stowed away in the ship. Maize and other requisites for the horses were shipped in abundance. To these were added medicines, and a stock of fresh water, and our ship was ready for sea

I took leave of my kind friends, Mr. Spragg and his wife, on the morning of the 26th of February, 1853, and went on board the William Hyde, just as she was leaving the wharf. There were five cabin-passengers, Mr. Hayward, a German, and his wife, a pretty young Englishwoman; Mr. Holstead and Mr. Trinadad, of Patrick's Plains; and Mr. Singleton, of Singleton. In addition to these were Mrs. Applethwaite, the captain's wife, a nurse and two children, one a fine girl three years old, and the other a boy about ten months.

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Mrs. Applethwaite was a pretty little woman, a native of Sydney, and about 22 years of age. She had in perfection the finely chiselled features so peculiar to the women of Sydney. Her hair was dark brown, and was shaded back in luxuriant tresses, fastened behind with a plain black ribbon. She generally wore a black satin dress, and a small white collar round her neck. Her name was Lucy, and she was as amiable as beautiful. Captain Applethwaite was a stout, broad-faced, good-looking Englishman, about 30 years of age, a thorough son of the sea, as strong as two ordinary men. Mr. Holstead was a noble-looking Englishman, about 40 years of age, and stouter than the Captain. He was a veterinary surgeon at Patrick's Plains, where he had both an inn and a large farm. He had been fifteen years in the colony. Mr. Trinadad was Mrs. Applethwaite's uncle, and an extensive farmer near Singleton. Mr. Singleton was about 25 years of age, exceeding six feet in height, stout and well-proportioned. He was a horse-dealer, and had assisted in shipping the horses. He resided at the village of Singleton, a name given to it by his father, who was the first resident there and an extraordinary and daring character. Mr. Hayward had been a shopkeeper in Melbourne; but he disliked that place so much that he sold his stock-in-trade, and purchased a house in Wellington, of which he was now going to

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take possession. He was fond of talking about Saxony and other parts of Germany; but his English was so bad that we understood very little of what he said, except on one subject, and that was, his love for duelling in early life. His right hand was minus the forefinger, which had been cut off in an encounter with a German student. He had a pair of beautiful duelling pistols, and a sword, which he kept for the purpose of defending his honour.

Mrs. Applethwaite's father-in-law, Mr. Holmes, of Sydney, came to see us off. He had purchased a large tract of land, which he called the Fitz Roy estate. It contained abundance of coal, limestone, and iron. He had sent some specimens of the iron to Mr. Herapath, of Bristol, to be analysed, and to Sheffield to be manufactured into knife-blades. The cutlers spoke in high terms of its excellent properties, and Mr. Herapath reported that the iron was superior in quality to any found in Europe.

The crew of the William Hyde, consisted of three able seamen, shipped at Sydney for £6 per month, two mates, and two apprentices, eleven Maories, and four Australian blacks. We had much coaxing to get the latter on board. When we lay in the harbour, we saw the tallest of them standing on the wharf, lifting his hand to his head in imitation of drinking. The other three were a considerable way off. These gestures had the

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desired effect; they gradually approached the wharf and got into one of the ship's boats that was waiting for them. When they came on board, the captain told them they would get plenty of "boul," (rum) if they would consent to go and help to take care of the sheep and cattle. A black bottle of rum and water was handed to them by the steward with the cork driven in as tight as possible. They squatted down on the forecastle, and after a great effort, extracted the cork and divided the contents, chattering and laughing at each other all the while, so delighted were they with the contents of the black bottle. Mr. Holstead, who was well acquainted with their habits, said that the more difficulty there was in extracting the cork, the more highly the contents were prized.

Two of these black fellows were very interesting characters. Jackey Jackey was a servant with the unfortunate Kennedy, who perished whilst on a surveying expedition in North Australia. The description this savage gave of the death of his ill-fated master was in the highest degree poetical; but unfortunately we cannot give it in his own words. Whilst exploring a part hitherto unexplored, they were surrounded by hostile natives. One of them threw a spear at Mr. Kennedy, and wounded him so that he expired soon after. Several spears were thrown at Jackey, but he dexterously evaded them. When Mr. Kennedy fell, the hostile

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natives fled. Jackey then took his dead master on his shoulders, and carried him towards the setting sun till it went down. He then in the stillness of eventide, buried him amid the sands of the desert. After a perilous journey he reached the sea-coast, hailed a vessel, and told his tale of horror to the crew. Ultimately the government erected a tablet to the memory of Mr. Kennedy, in St. James's church. They also gave Jackey a pension, a horse worth £20, and a medal with an inscription upon it, relating to his master's virtues and his own. The name of the other was Jimmey. He was a diminutive, broad-nosed, large-mouthed, curly headed fellow, with a good-humoured expression of countenance. He had been many years a servant with Mr. Holstead, who told us some very amusing anecdotes respecting him. We give one by way of illustration. On one occasion he had fitted out Jimmey with a new suit of clothes for the Maitland races. These consisted of a green Newmarket coat with bright brass buttons, a drab-coloured waistcoat, drab cord breeches, yellow top-boots, a white shirt, blue neck-cloth, and a black hat with yellow hat-band. Off went Jimmey in his new toggery to the races. Mr, Holstead followed him in an hour after, and found him capering about the course in his shirt. The other clothes had been so much admired by some of his tribe, that to please them, he divided the garments amongt them. On

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the race-course, and proud of their acquisitions, might be seen Jimmey's friends; one with the hat, another with the coat--each wearing one of the items, which jointly conspired to make respectable Jimmey's outer man. Jimmey seemed to care so little about his property that he was the proudest man of the strange group; and as none of the articles wero restored, Jimmey returned in his shirt to the house of his master.

The last day in the harbour of Newcastle we spent in fishing, and relating our experience of Australian life. The harbour swarmed with fish, so that if any offal was thrown into the water it was devoured directly. We caught several fine schnapper and some salmon. On this day also, several jars of honey and other delicacies were sent to Mrs. Applethwaite by residents on the river. Old Tom Hyde, of Mosquito Island, brought us a basket of green peas.

Next day at noon, the pilot boarded us, and the anchor was weighed and the sails trimmed for sea. Half-way between the Nobbies, the wind suddenly shifted, and we were taken all aback. Down went the anchor to prevent our grounding on the reef. In a few minutes the wind changed, we tacked several times, and shivered the mainsail, as the pilot directed, till we got outside the Nobbies. There we plunged into a short jumbling sea, which made the houses of the city seem as though they

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were dancing a polka. About half-a-mile from the Nobbies, a fair wind sprung up, and the pilot left us, accompanied by Mr. Dent and Mr. Holmes. The yards were then squared, and before sunset nothing could be seen in our wake but a faint glimpse of the sunny shores of Australia.

We had fine weather and fair winds for the first two days. But the air was sultry, and the vessel swarmed with flies. At meal-times they annoyed us greatly by lighting on the food, and frequently the sugar-basin was covered with a black mass of these tormentors.

Wind-sails were rigged down all the hatchways to cool the vessel. The horses and cattle were put in stalls athwart ships, with their heads towards an open space. Those that were restive were tied by strong halters to the stall posts.

On the second day came the tedious operation of watering the sheep, which was performed every alternate day during the voyage. This duty fell to the lot of the Maories, who each carried a bucket of water and a porter bottle. The bottle was filled with water, and put into the mouth of the sheep. After a sufficient quantity had been given to the animal, a piece of rope yarn was tied round its neck, to distinguish it from those not watered. There was little difficulty in getting them to take the water thus; and long before the end of the voyage they had become well-acquainted with the Maories and the black bottles.

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On the third day, we had a strong breeze from the south, and a heavy sea. The vessel rolled about at a fearful rate. She was run alternately twelve hours on each tack, but we made no headway in the direction of Wellington. One or two of the sheep died every day, and one was killed every alternate day for the ship's use. When we had been eight days at sea, two of the cattle died, and a fine horse, the property of Mr. Holstead, leaped out of his stall down one of the hatchways, and was killed. The calves were drowned in a heavy wave that rolled over the forecastle into the lower hold. On the morning of the eighth day we sighted the Three Kings, some small islands to the west of North Cape, New Zealand. We passed them in the course of the day. The largest of them was covered with grass and short scrub. Here and there through the openings, we caught glimpses of lovely green valleys that would have been most welcome to our storm-tost cattle and sheep.

After passing these islands, we fell in with a strong current, which set in from the North Cape. On the water there was a distinct ripple, nearly a mile in breadth, forming a pleasing contrast to the boiling and foaming ocean on each side of it.

Early in the afternoon, we saw Cape Maria Van Dieman; and soon after a small schooner with her ensign flying, appeared to the northward. As she approached several of Marryat's signals were run

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up her rigging; but the captain and officers of our vessel were too much engaged to reply. An hour after the schooner swept past our stern, and came up on the weather side within a hundred yards. Then came the exciting hail, "Ship ahoy! Where do you come from? Where are you bound to?" She was from Sydney, bound to Auckland, with passengers. Several other questions were put. The Captain of the schooner advised Captain Applethwaite to put into Auckland, as he would find as good a market for his stock there as at Wellington. As it became evident that if we beat down to Wellington with the wind against us, not more than half the stock would be living when we arrived, the captain at once directed our course to Auckland. The sheep were now sickening fast, and were mostly very lean. A space on each side of the cuddy was made into an hospital for them, and there were sometimes eighteen or twenty of them in it at once. Mrs. Applethwaite nursed them as carefully as ever Miss Nightingale nursed the wounded soldiers at Scutari; but all to no purpose, die they would and did, in spite of all her efforts to save them.

We were six days in rounding the North Cape. Three or four more of the cattle died during that time. In the course of two days more we came in sight of the opening to the Bay of Islands--a place much frequented by the whale ships that visit these seas.

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Our ship was difficult to work, owing to the sheep on deck. A narrow plank on each side was laid upon the top of the sheep-pens, and on these the sailors had to walk. The Maories soon got out of humour with this state of things, and two or three of them became very unruly. One morning, Malby, the second mate, ordered one of them called Banks, to do some duty. Banks flatly refused; Malby pushed him; he then struck Malby, knocked him into one of the sheep-pens, and before he recovered himself, very much disfigured his face. The captain came out of the cabin after the scuffle, and when he saw the state of Malby's face he was so enraged, that he took a piece of wood lying near him, and struck Banks upon the head, who gave a tremendous roar, and fell amongst the sheep. This overawed the rest, there was no more trouble with any of them afterwards. The wound caused by the blow, bled profusely. I assisted Mr. Booth, the mate, to dress the wound, and fastened it up with sticking plaister, and in the course of a few days all was right again.

One of the apprentices--Ainsley, a Scotch boy, had been very ill of dysentery, from the time we left Newcastle. I was told of a cure for that disease by. Mr. Usher, a gentleman at Newcastle. The medicine consisted of the inside bark of the Australian wattle-tree. As I had provided myself with a quantity of this bark, I gave some to Ainsley,

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told him to steep it in a pint of warm milk, and then drink the milk. The first dose effected a cure. The medicinal properties of this bark are well known by the natives of Australia.

I frequently went into the forecastle to see the Maories dine. None of them had arrived at a state of civilization requiring a plate, knife, fork, or spoon to eat with. Their meal, whether it consisted of boiled pork and pea-soup, or boiled beef and rice, was handed to them in a large kit. They then squatted themselves round it on the floor, each seized the kit with one hand, and dipping the other into the mess, put fistful after fistful into their mouths with astonishing rapidity. What a group of beauties they were before the meal was finished, may easily be imagined. No matter how hot the mess was, it was speedily despatched with their naked hands.

There were two or three droll characters among them. One named Henry, always made a prayer over the dead cattle, and when one was thrown overboard, he would cry out--"A fair wind tomorrow." He would sometimes walk the poop, and imitate the captain in command. Another, called Jackey, often gave rehearsals of cabin scenes, to the great amusement of the other Maories and the sailors. All the Maories had English names, except Pepui.

The winds were variable, and it was many days before we got much from the Bay of Islands. The

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weather, however, was charming, we stood near the land towards evening, to catch the shore breeze, which was a leading wind for us during the night, we were sometimes within half-a-mile of the beach, and we could see the smoke arising from the Maorie fires, a short distance into the interior. The sunsets and sunrises were very beautiful. The sea was studded with rocks, some rising forty and fifty feet out of the water. Sometimes we came opposite a green valley, and gentle rising hills covered with the magnificient kaurie-tree. At others we were sailing along a dark rock-bound coast, with frowning precipices, having caves and grottos fantastically carved by the action of the sea. One could not help thinking of Captain Cook, and the early navigators of these seas. How anxious must have been their night watches: and how necessary it was for them to keep sounding, to avoid the dangers that beset them.

Mr. Hayward, on one or two occasions, took some of the rocks for full rigged ships, or "full ships," as he called them. When we were tacking about, and making little headway, he would look over the side of the ship, and exclaim. "Oh, mine got, this is the mis-e-r-a-b-le." We saw the schooner several times between us and the land, as we gradually approached the neighbourhood of Auckland.

On the 18th of March we sighted the Great Barrier Island. The next morning we were opposite

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to it, and the wind shifted to the north, but remained light during the whole day. Towards night the breeze began to freshen, and we went along at a rapid rate. Soon after sunset we passed a low rock to the north of Kiahow. This was the only dangerous rock in our course. There was no lighthouse at the entrance of Auckland Harbour; but the captain was well acquainted with the place. About midnight we made the entrance, and before one in the morning we were safe at anchor, in the middle of the stream, opposite the Caledonian Hotel. We lost fifty sheep, eight cattle, and two horses, during the voyage. The whole of the stock was in a lean dirty state.

The next day was Sunday; when light came I went upon the poop with Mr. Hayward and Holstead, to look at Auckland.

The harbour is a mile broad, and we were fully half-a-mile from the nearest houses on the beach. Mr. Hayward had an excellent glass, with which he could read the signs of the Caledonian and Victoria Hotels; and see distinctly what was going on in the city.

At the entrance of the harbour are many small fields, and two or three houses for the pilots, and the keeper of the Flagstaff. On the opposite side was a strip of macadamised road that led up into the country, past a small chapel, and a number of

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neat houses. Nearer the city, on a point, several cannon were mounted to command the entrance.

The ground on which Auckland stands, rises nearly perpendicular from the harbour, in some places to the height of fifty or sixty feet. Part of this perpendicular front is composed of a brownish sandstone, others of conglomerate.

The Caledonian and Victoria Hotels stand in front of a breast-work of that description. The Caledonian suffered severely from a land-slip, some years ago.

From this front the land ascends to the height of four or five hundred feet. On the highest part of this elevation is a white windmill, conspicious from every part of the city. Two miles beyond is Mount Eden, a conical shaped hill, 1,500 feet high, covered on one side with low trees, and fern, to the summit, and on the other with fern and grass.

All the inclosures were covered with verdure. The look of them was refreshing in the highest degree, after a tedious sea voyage. The captain went on shore soon after daylight, to make arrangements for landing his cargo.

A small schooner came to the entrance of the harbour, and then nearly up to where we lay; after that she again tacked and made for the entrance. To our surprise she kept sailing in that way two hours, and none of us could make out the cause. At last a boat from the shore put off to her; after-

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wards we heard she had lost her anchor and cable in a gale, and was obliged to run about till she got new ones from Auckland.

The ships then lying in the harbour were, the John Wesley, missionary brig; Kestrel, brig from Melbourne; Edward, American whaler; Royal Shepherdess, St. Michael, and William Hyde, barques from London.

A short time before noon, a lighter came alongside to convey the sheep on shore, and about a hundred of them were placed in the boat, carried to the nearest point of the beach, and put ashore by two of the Maories. A number of boys aided in driving them to some green paddocks above the city. Having a great desire to see Auckland, and knowing that for some time at least, there would be no way of going ashore but by this boat, on its next approach to the vessel, I took a place amongst the sheep. On reaching the shore, I made for the Caledonian hotel. In going there, I had to scramble along a slippery footpath, overhung by long grass, the tide being too far up for me to pass by any other. The way was so steep and slippery, that I was frequently obliged to hold on by the tufts of grass to save myself from rolling over the precipice into the surges below.

When I arrived at the hotel, dinner was on the table, for which I was charged one shilling. After that I retired to a small room, and put myself

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through a series of ablutions--a course which I much required after a tedious voyage.

The rest of the day I spent in conversing with Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds, the host and hostess. At night I was shown into a neat bed-room on the first floor, I lay down to rest, and was soon lulled to sleep by the gentle murmurs of the rippling wares upon the pebbly beach.

I rose early next morning, and when I looked out I almost fancied myself in one of those quiet English sea-side towns, which have listened to the winds and waves of centuries. A number of boats were lying high and dry upon the beach, where the tide had left them, and many men wearing blue jackets and sou-westers, were basking in the sunshine on the small piers running out into the harbour. There was none of that bustle and excitement which prevailed in most of the seaport towns in Australia.

The Caledonia and Victoria hotels had a homely peaceful air about them. They are both plain two story buildings, with a verandah running along the front of the upper story. Dram-drinking is conducted in a more comfortable way here than in most of our public-houses at home; seats are placed in the bars for those who pay their devotion to Bacchus. Dram-drinking is one of the greatest evils in the colony. A good breakfast, dinner, or supper could be had in either place for 1s., and

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board and lodgings for 12s. per week. In some parts of the city these could be had as low as 10s. per week.

The wages for joiners, masons, brickmakers, shoemakers, and tailors, were from £2 to £3 per week. Carpenters, and those engaged in loading and discharging ships, were earning from £3 to £4 per week. Farm-labourers, and those employed on the roads and public works, were receiving from £1 10s. to £2 per week. The 21b. loaf cost 6d.; butcher's meat, including mutton, beef, and pork, from 6d. to 8d. per lb.; potatoes were a halfpenny per lb.; cabbages, turnips, radishes, onions, pumpkins, and other kinds of garden produce were cheap and plentiful. There was plenty of employment, and a great demand for all kinds of labour.

There had been a great drain on the labour market for the gold-fields of Victoria, and other parts of Australia. In wandering through the place I saw many empty shops and houses, having "To Let" in the windows. Numbers of the small tradesmen had gone to try their fortunes in Melbourne. Most of the shops could be rented for 3s. or 4s. per week, and the houses for 2s. 6d. and 3s.; such places would have cost 10s. or 12s. per week in Sydney, Newcastle, or Maitland.

Auckland stands upon several small hills, and has a brook of clear water running through some of the valleys lying between. There are no large

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trees near the city. The uninclosed portions of ground are covered by a low dark-green scrub, somewhat resembling the heather in appearance and the rosemary in fragrance. The brooks in the neighbourhood abound with the finest water-cresses.

One of the principal streets, Story-street, runs nearly parallel with the perpendicular breast-work of the harbour, and has a gradual ascent for about a quarter of a mile from the Victoria hotel to its other extremity near St. Paul's church. Half way up this street, on the right, is the Exchange hotel, the principal one in the place. It is a wooden building, having a narrow front, and no pretensions to elegant architecture. Its premises are extensive, and many of its rooms are fitted up with all the conveniences and comforts of an English hotel.

All the merchants' offices are in this street. It also contains many fine shops. In this district the Jews predominate. One of them, Mr. Levi, has a shop opposite the exchange, which contains all kinds of second-hand goods. Mr. Levi was one of the regular "old clo'" description. Any one standing a moment or two before his shop was sure to be accosted, and business matters introduced in the course of the conversation.

A little above this on the same side, is a shop for the sale of war-weapons, and other curiosities of Maorie manufacture. A museum of such commodities might be purchased there for about £3 or £4.

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Some of the houses at the top of the street are perched on the edge of the perpendicular scaur which bounds the harbour, where a landslip, which is of frequent occurrence, would send them to destruction in an instant. A catastrophe of that kind happened a short distance from Auckland during the time I was there, and a family of seven persons were buried alive near Wanganouie. The house in which these unfortunate people resided stood close to the bottom of a dangerous scaur.

Several narrow streets branch from Story-street to different parts of the city. One, leading past the Victoria Hotel, is composed of small shops devoted to the sale of sailors' outfits and the fruits of the colony. In one of these shops I saw some fine apples, which in flavour were equal to any of British growth. The grapes and peaches were not equal to those in Australia.

The produce of the dairy farms in the vicinity of Auckland is excellent. The cheese is equal to our second-rate Lancashire; and the butter equal to any produced in North Britain.

Queen-street is much broader than Story-street. It passes along a valley opening into the harbour below the Victoria hotel, where it intersects the above-named street at right angles. It contains some fine shops and public-houses. Within a foot of the shops a brook runs past, which opposite every door has a bridge or crossing of planks; in

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the vacant spaces where are no houses, it is left without such protection, and forms a dangerous obstacle on a dark night. Many narrow streets lead from this up the hill sides. Some are occupied by the more civilized Maories, Jews, Germans, and Tahitians. The Roman Catholics have a noble chapel and a large school in one of these streets.

St. Paul's stands on a hill at the top of Story street. It belongs to the Episcopalian or established Church. It is a plain brick building, in the form of a long square. The windows are small and lancet-shaped. The walls are supported by buttresses, and the whole of the exterior is covered with Portland cement. The interior is fitted up with low seats, in three divisions, having aisles between them. There is no gallery, nor any marks of social distinction.

The Wesleyans and Independents have fine chapels in the city. The presbyterians have also a place of worship, built of scoria, on the Parnell and Epsom road.

The Wesleyans here are numerous and influential. A short distance from Auckland, they have a large training institute or college for their preachers. Their numerous mission stations in different parts of the colony have been productive of much good; not only by converting the Maories to Christianity, but by teaching them to cultivate the ground. Some of their preachers have done wonders in this

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way. Wherever a mission station is planted, the " wilderness soon blossoms like the rose. " And such is the influence that some of the preachers have over the Maorie chiefs, that they will not transact any kind of business without first consulting them. New Zealand owes much of its prosperity to the disinterested labours of the missionaries. The John Wesley was then taking in a cargo of clothes and other necessaries for the missionary stations in the Fegee Islands, All the tradesmen spoke in the highest terms of the punctual manner in which these articles were paid for.

The streets were in the same unfinished condition as those of Adelaide and Melbourne. After a wet day they were ankle-deep in mud. And the lamps of the publicans were the only lights in the streets at night.

Many of the policemen were Maories, and looked as well in their blue regimentals, and handled their, short staves with as much dignity and importance as any of their European brethren.

Colonel Wynyard, the governor, resided in a pretty wooden house, a short distance from St. Paul's Church, on the side of a gently sloping hill, at the foot of which, a fine spring of the purest water gushed forth without intermission, both summer and winter. A small jetty, erected by the Royal Sappers and Miners, runs out into the harbour from this spring, and here most of the ships lake in their supplies of water.

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Beyond this are a number of lovely gardens and orchards, having footpaths winding around them which lead to pretty villas, perched on rocky eminences overlooking the harbour. A Portuguese boy, whom the captain of the St. Michael brought to Auckland from Madeira, was in raptures with the place. The first time he saw these gardens, he held up his hands, and exclaimed in the best English he was master of--"All the same as Madeira! all the same as Madeira!"

The Post-office and Government-buildings are in a short street to the right, from the top of Story-street, and there is also a fine inn called the Masonic Hotel, in this street. The Freemasons hold their meetings there. There are a number of men of that order in different parts of the colony. Beyond the Masonic hotel, on the highest ground in the city, are the Barracks, the Public Gardens and Promenade ground. The Barracks occupy a space several acres in extent, the whole of which is surrounded by a wall, twelve feet high. In the centre of the yard is a large grass plot, with gravel walks, leading to all the buildings. The situation is said to be a healthy one. The soldiers had rendered good service to the colony, by making many excellent roads. Many were then employed in breaking stones, for which labour the Government paid them extra, at the rate of 2s. per day. When the weather was favourable, the Military band played

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every Thursday afternoon, in the public gardens. These gardens occupy about five acres of ground. There is a neat lodge, and a large white gate at the entrance. The fence is low, so that the whole of the gardens can be seen from the adjoining road. The old Government house, which was burned down several years ago, stood on the site now occupied by the gardens. Specimens of all the New Zealand flora, and many rare plants from different parts of the world, are to be found there.

Most of the houses in the city are built of wood, and shingled, as in Australia. But many of the warehouses and stores are of scoria. The Roman Catholic Chapel, and the Barracks, are of that material. Most of the large shops, brokers' offices, and some of the public-houses, are of brick.

Scoria is a dark porous stone, found in great abundance upon the land, at the base of Mount Eden, and scattered here and there over the surface of the whole Island. It makes excellent roads, and fences, and is much used for that purpose. It is much easier to break than limestone, or the hard boulders, used for road-making in England. It soon beds, and being porous, all the surface water drains off, leaving the road dry and firm. A road well made of this material, is very durable. Scoria is not so well adapted for building purposes. If the walls are not made unusually thick, the water penetrates the pores of the stone, and renders the interior of the dwellings damp and unhealthy.

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There are no wharfs in the harbour. The only attempt made at anything of the kind was the Wynyard Pier, which forms a continuation of Queen-street, and projects about 150 yards into the harbour. Only the small vessels can come up to it, even at high water. It was made of upright posts fastened together by crossbeams. These beams met the posts at right angles; and the importance of the triangle in keeping the fabric in form, by diagonal braces, was evidently overlooked or unknown. The framework was planked along the inside, and filled in with brushwood and earth. No provision had been made for the drainage of the surface water, and the result of such negligence was--the swelling of the inner material, the bursting of the planks encasing it, and rapid decay and dilapidation on all sides. The boats from the ships made a convenience of it to land at, but it was one of the most awkward places imaginable, even for that purpose. The planking intended for the roadway was piled up here and there in such confusion that a stranger was in danger of breaking either neck or legs in passing over them. In some places the earth was several feet below the crossbeams, so that a person, to get on comfortably, was obliged to step from one to the other. Yet this work, I was told, cost £7,000. In consequence of this want of wharfage, all vessels are obliged to lay at anchor in the middle of the harbour, and are

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loaded and discharged through the mediumn of lighters.

Beyond the Wynyard pier, to the left, is a fine sandy beach, on which vessels are run up and repaired. Upon it were erected extensive docks, where several small brigs and schooners were being built. A long range of sheds and dwellings for those employed, stand along the margin of the beach. I saw many Maories sawing away at large Kaurie-trees, which they were cutting up in a workmanlike manner. The use of the two-foot rule, compasses, and chalk-line, seemed to be thoroughly understood by the greater part of them. They were dressed, carpenter fashion, in fustian jackets and trousers, and striped shirts.

Amongst the timber of the dock-yard, I saw some trees which only the province of Auckland can produce. They exceeded eighty feet in length, were more than two feet square, and straight as an arrow. Numbers of short logs were lying about of much greater girth than any of the largest Canadian timber sold in England. The Kaurie wood is much firmer than the latter, although it is quite as easy to work. When planed, it is of a pretty yellow colour. It is also very durable, and most of the houses in Auckland are built with it. An extensive forest of these magnificent pines is one of the most imposing sights that can present itself. The kaurie discharges large quantities of

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gum, which is used for varnish, and now forms an important article in the export trade of the colony.

After I had been round the city, I took a ramble into the country. My first excursion was up Queen-street, past the windmill, and along part of the country west of Mount Eden. All the land to the north-west, where Queen-street terminates, is of a wild moor-like description, composed of a stiff whitish clay, suitable for brickmaking. Several brick-works were in operation upon different parts of it. And a number of good brick houses stand here and there along the sides of the road.

Beyond this, to the west, are large inclosures, set apart for grazing and hay-ground, and many corn fields. The soil, which was once covered with fern and scrub, is well adapted for growing wheat; but it is considered inferior in quality to the scoria clearings. The fencing and clearing of fern land costs about £5 per acre; scoria, £6. The soil of the scoria is a rich dark loam, easy to break up, and well adapted for either wheat, barley, or potatoes. Oats grow better on fern land, which is principally composed of a firm brown loam, not easily exhausted by successive crops. The scoria land, after clearing, is sometimes sown with grass seeds, and in the course of a few months becomes an excellent pasturage. I saw wheat grown on both lands. It was of good quality, but much inferior to the produce of Adelaide; about equal to

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the best grown in the North of England. The yield per acre was from twelve to fifteen Carlisle bushels.

Beyond the windmill, to the south, are the cemeteries of the city. That of the Roman Catholics is distinguished by a large wooden cross, painted white. There was neither grass nor flowers upon any of the graves. The soil was a stiff wet clay, destitute of vegetation, and enclosed within a low wall of scoria, It had a most dreary aspect. On the Other side of the road is the burial-place of the Protestants, of all denominations. All the graves were covered with long grass and fern. The ground had a gentle slope towards a winding brook which murmured sweetly past. There were several neat monuments, with marble tablets. Altogether, the place had a solemn and melancholy air, which much reminded me of the peaceful resting-place of the Friends in the old country.

On leaving these I came to a high fence of whins, so thick as to be alike impervious to rain or sunshine. This to me turned out advantageously, for I was suddenly compelled to seek its welcome shelter from the passing shower. The scene before me was rendered much more home-like by the pelting rain, swept across the country in long undulating streams by a strong breeze which smote fiercely upon the furze, and brought forcibly to my recollection many pleasing memories of country

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life, when during the harvest-time I and my fellow reapers had similarly sought a shelter beneath the neatly-trimmed hedgerows of England, from the drenching rain of the appalling thunder-storm.

The climate of New Zealand is more temperate than that of Australia. The winter is never so cold as in the British Isles. Nor is the summer so intensely hot as in Australia; for owing to the refreshing breezes from the sea the atmosphere is kept at a comfortable temperature. Auckland is visited with high winds during the whole year.

In rambling through the country there is nothing to dread from snakes or other venomous reptiles. There is said to be a large spider of a dangerous kind existing amongst the scoria; but it is invisible like the fabled Bunyp of Australia, for I not only never saw one, but I never met with an individual who had. A pretty green lizard may sometimes be observed running across the bypaths in the more retired parts of the country; but it is very timid and seldom approaches a human habitation.

On leaving the hedge, I turned to the left, up a narrow road which wound its way past some farms, to the foot of Mount Eden. This part of the country bears a striking resemblance to some parts of Cumberland. so much so, that it was like taking a ramble through Loweswater and Buttermere. The snug farm-houses, with clusters of trees before them, and the small green croft, enclosed within

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scoria walls, that seemed to have stood for centuries, like the mountain walls of the Lake district, heightened the allusion. Many of the farmers were ploughing with two horses yoked as in Cumberland. And every now and then, milk-boys who had been at Auckland went jogging past on their ponies, with their empty kegs behind them. The smell of the fern and the white clover I trod upon, the beaten path made by the horses' feet, the narrow strip of grass between it and the wheel-ruts, --all reminded me so much of our mountain land and mountain roads, that I almost fancied myself in Borrowdale or the vale of Lorton.

On passing a small farm, I heard the sounds of the flail, and on approaching the barn, I met the farmer, who had been thrashing. We had a most agreeable conversation, in the course of which he gave me a slight sketch of his history. He was a Cornishman, and had been a long time in the colony. I examined carefully the grain which was scattered on the barn floor, and was rather surprised to find it inferior to that grown on the moor lands of Cumberland. He assured me that it was a bad sample.

An extensive view of the country can be had from Mount Eden, but I was wearied, and it was too far advanced in the evening to make the ascent. When I came in sight of Auckland, the lengthening shadows of evening gave it a pleasing

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appearance. The houses looked clean and white. The sky was clear and cloudless, and the atmosphere unpolluted by smoke. The waters of the harbour were motionless, and bore a striking resemblance to Loweswater Lake, as it bursts suddenly into view at the turn of Mosser Fell, on a sunny summer's day. It was nearly dark when I got back to the hotel, where I dispatched an excellent supper, with a relish known only to those who have breathed the pure air and enjoyed the pleasure of rambling among the beautiful scenery of New Zealand.

My next excursion was through Parnell and Epsom, to the east of Mount Eden, in the direction of Wanganouie. The road into this part of the country, passes the public gardens and the Presbyterian chapel; winds round the bottom of a hill, turns to the right, and makes a fine circular sweep round the top of Mechanics' Bay.

This bay, which forms part of the harbour, is one of the most interesting places near Auckland. The Maories bring all their produce there for sale. In fact it is their market, and the shopkeepers and others who deal with them go there to make their purchases.

I have seen fifty large canoes drawn up on the beach, some laden with potatoes, others with corn and pigs, and a few of the smaller ones with fish and firewood. These were accompanied by two or three hundred Maories of both sexes.

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A square of wooden houses by the roadside contained store-rooms for their produce, more especially for such as might soon be injured from exposure. The Maories seldom live in houses during their stay at the bay. The greatest part of them dwell in canvass tents, made after a peculiar fashion, with two poles about fifteen feet in length. These are fastened together at the ends with a strong rope. The other ends are separated to a suitable angle for the entrance. The two ends fastened together rest upon the ground, and the other two are elevated to a convenient height by upright posts. Over these a strong canvass covering is spread, and fastened to the ground with pegs, ropes, &c. Cooking utensils, bedding, boxes, or furniture belonging to the family are generally stowed away in the rear of the tent. A fire to cook with is kept burning during the daytime in front of each, and if the weather be cold, through the night also.

The scenes produced by the Maories grouped in front of their tents, are picturesque in the highest degree. Most of the traders, the men especially, are dressed in the costume of their forefathers, as described by Captain Cook, i. e. a mat made of native flax, with a hole for one arm to pass through near the top edge. The right arm is thrust through this, and the mat drawn over the shoulder is fastened under the left arm, leaving the left

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shoulder exposed. The mat reaches nearly to the knee, and is frequently fastened round the waist by a belt of the same material. In warm weather it is allowed to hang loosely round the body. The common mats can be bought in Auckland for 2s.; but those of elaborate workmanship and more costly materials, cannot be purchased under £3.

Some of the men are tattooed upon the legs, and resemble the pictures of Greek and Roman soldiers. Many of those I saw at the bay were noble-looking fellows, with well proportioned limbs, broad chests, and countenances decidedly benevolent in aspect. Many of the faces, among the men, were of a Jewish cast--viewed in profile especially. And some had as fair complexions as many of the Jews in Auckland. Their average height is from five feet six to five feet ten inches. The largest man I saw was a chief; he was under six feet, and might weigh sixteen stones.

Much has been said respecting their powers of endurance, and being more than a match for the British soldiers in the Maorie war. All, however, who have seen the British soldier or sailor, and the Maorie pitted together, in a hand-to-hand fight, speak otherwise: the Maorie is greatly inferior in point of strength, and much deficient in pluck to either.

This has often been exemplified by rowing matches with the sailors, in Auckland harbour. If

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the sailors got a-head in the least, the Maories lost heart, and ceased to contest; but if allowed to keep a little before, they would pull away at a tremendous rate.

A sergeant of the 58th regiment told me he was an eye-witness of one of the most desperate hand to hand encounters that occurred during the Maori war. A sailor belonging to H. M. Steamer, Rattle-snake went ashore in a boat in company with several of the crew. The boat landed near a pah, or Maorie encampment. Without being aware of his nearness to the enemy, one of the tars, more daring than the rest, wandered a short distance inland. When he was considerably in advance of his companions, three Maories who lay in ambush rushed upon him. They were armed to the teeth, having spears, clubs, and muskets. Jack was also armed; his weapons were a musket and a harpoon. The first Maorie that approached was transfixed with the harpoon and pinned to the ground. The next was shot dead; and the brains of the third were dashed out with the butt-end of the musket. This was the work of a few minutes. The Sergeant saw the whole affair whilst coming up with the foraging party to assist Jack and disperse the Maorie encampment.

They are, however, a highly interesting people, and very hospitable to strangers. On passing their tents, I was saluted with "taner, ake-kouie," (good

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morning) by the men. The women addressed me by gestures and most bewitching smiles. Most of the females are very pretty, and the style of dress much enhances their beauty. Their chief costume hangs loose, after the fashion of a gentleman's dressing gown, and is fastened at the waist with a belt. The sleeves are wide, and closed at the wrist with a narrow band. Their hair, which is either dark brown or black, is put up tastefully--shaded from the middle of the forehead and well oiled. They have fine dark brown eyes, round full faces, and complexions as fair as many of our own country girls, who are much exposed to the sun, or employed to field labour. All the married women are tattooed on the under lip, half-way down the chin. The tattooing tapers up to each corner of the mouth, and forms a semicircle.

The prettiest women in or near Auckland are to be found among the Jews, Germans, and Maories. Exposure to the sun, and active employments, add much to female beauty in New Zealand. All I saw thus engaged were good looking, and some eminently beautiful.

The Auckland ladies appeared to be almost overwhelmed with ennui. There are no places of amusement; no theatres, nor exhibitions of any kind. Balls were of rare occurrence, and were mostly got up by ship-captains and held on board their vessels. The sailors, who, by the way, are

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excellent judges of female beauty, declare that they never saw such a deplorable absence of good looks among English ladies of the higher class, even among the various colonies of the Pacific, as they saw at New Zealand. Jack's authority on many subjects relating to distant countries may often be called in question; but on this, his opinion is not to be disputed.

Females employed at dressmaking, and other sedentary employments, were pale looking, and had an unhealthy emaciated appearance.

The Maorie girls are fond of pink robes; but the women who have children generally wear dark coloured prints. Many Englishmen in Auckland have Maories for wives, and good ones some of them make. I knew one who kept her house and children as clean and tidy as any Englishman could desire. She was a pretty woman, and devoted to her husband.

The children who are the produce of these marriages are proud of their origin. When asked if they are Maories, they will look up with an air of superiority and say, --"No, Sir, I am a half-cast; my father is an Englishman." And often have I thought while conversing with the descendant of an untutored savage, and my own countrymen, that it was something to be an Englishman.

On a Sunday forenoon I have seen Maorie girls, who have been converted to Christianity, coming

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from the country to their respective places of worship, mounted on horses, and dressed in riding habits, hats and veils, in imitation of the English ladies, and their husbands or brothers walking by their side, in black cloth, made after the newest fashion. They did not, however, seem to be good equestrians, for I never saw them on horseback, without a man holding the bridle, and walking alongside.

Some of the young men make good house servants and excellent waiters at hotels. P. Berry, Esq., the sheriff of New Zealand, had one called Nichol, who had been with him nine years, and was a fine-looking, clean, active young fellow. I once heard Mr. Berry describe the parting scene between himself and Nichol, when about to leave Auckland for home. They stood on Wynyard pier--master and servant looked at each other--neither could speak for several minutes. At length, Nichol offered Mr. Berry all his wages, as a token of gratitude, and burst into tears. His master kindly refused the money, was much affected, and endeavoured to induce Nichol to accompany him to England, but in that he failed. Nichol, though he liked his master more than money, loved Auckland or some dark-eyed Maorie maiden more than either, so they "parted in silence and tears."

Beyond the market-square, close to the road, are two neat shops, where Maorie clothing of all

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descriptions is sold. The Maories are fond of red and blue blankets, and red handkerchiefs.

A short distance beyond the shops is a manufactory for making ropes from the native flax. A long shed in which these are made runs along the side of a brook, about 150 yards up the valley.

On the Queen's birthday, the Maories muster in great numbers from all parts of the country, and hold monster tea-meetings in this shed. They take great interest in celebrating the anniversary of Victoria.

It is exceedingly amusing to deal with them. They are very suspicious of being cheated, and well acquainted with the meaning of the word gammon, which they often repeat, if any attempt is made to lower the price of their commodities. Many of them do not understand the relation sixpence bears to a shilling. And there are others who will take no copper, not being acquainted with its value. The pound sterling, crown, half-crown, and shilling they nearly all know the worth of. The shilling they call "one herring;" the sixpence "ek a penny." Those who know what relation a penny bears to sixpence or a shilling, add the coppers to make these, by saying "ek a penny, one penny," for sevenpence. "Eik a penny," for eight-pence, and so on. The "herring," for shilling, is doubtless derived, like many other of their slang words, from the sailors, and others settled in the

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island from the metropolis. I often purchased potatoes, firewood, and sometimes onions of them. When a great number came to the bay, and there was a large quantity of potatoes in the market, I have bought a kit containing 28lbs, avoirdupois for one shilling. Onions at one penny per lb.; and firewood at eight shillings per ton. Cabbages, carrots, parsnips, turnips, and pumpkins were sometimes in such abundance as to be had almost for nothing. I have seen large kits of cabbages sold for sixpence. The kits are made of native flax. They have two handles or loops to lift them by. They are the same in shape as those used by the carpenters, and some are as well made. The potatoes are neatly packed with fern leaves, and the kit firmly fastened up with a piece of strong flax. In quality, they are much superior to any of our home produce. They have darkish coloured, thin skins, and when cooked are mealy, and have a good flavour. They had been slightly affected by a disease, similar to that which still prevails at home; but it had entirely disappeared from every part of the province of Auckland.

Fat pigs, weighing about 2001bs. (sinking the offal), could be bought of the Maories for £2 10s. It was quite an amusing occurrence to stand by them when the butchers of the Bay came near to purchase. To the question, "What will you take for the pig?" they generally replied--"Three

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pounds ten herring, or two pounds ten herring." If the purchaser tried to lower the price, "Kanhowrie" (cannot) was the reply of the Maorie. If he was disposed to give all they asked, "Kaupie" (very good) was the response, and the business was soon transacted. The Maories pay much attention to pig breeding, I was told by one who had lived amongst them, that the "wyenas" (women) who had children at the breast, frequently fed the sickly ones with their own milk.

A gentleman living at Parnell, who was acquainted with engineering, &c., pointed out to me the facilities afforded by Mechanics' Bay for the construction of a wet-dock. This might be done by erecting a strong sea-wall across the entrance, and deepening it a few feet towards the top. One part of his plan was, to connect the two hills at the top of the bay by means of a viaduct, under the arches which would be erected, warehouses, &c. On the roadway of the viaduct, he would have a steam engine and a crane to move on rails. Such an undertaking would doubtless much increase the commerce of the port, wild as the scheme may appear to some who know the harbour. Certainly, it would have been much better if the money had been expended this way than on Wynyard Pier,

On the north side of the bay is a small ship-yard, where the coasting vessels of the Maories are built and repaired. Many of the chiefs have tidy little schooners employed in the home trade.

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On leaving the bay, the road crosses a small bridge which spans the brook that glides by the rope manufactory. It afterwards turns to the right and has a gradual ascent for more than a mile. To the right of the road is a large tract of unenclosed land, of a wild and moor-like appearance, covered with scrub and fern. A well beaten footpath runs through this wild, from the upper part of Parnell, down to the bay.

On the left are many pretty cottages along the roadside. The first of these is a grocer's shop, and is dignified by the name of "Parnell House." Farther up again is a butcher's shop and another grocery, kept by Mr. Walthouse. Higher still is a public-house kept by Mr. Johnson, who is the owner of some brickworks and several cottages opposite. A mile beyond these stands the beautiful residence of Colonel Hullam, surrounded by a fine plantation, neat gardens and shrubberies, all in the true English style. The house is not large; but is built in that tasteful villa style of architecture, which makes the modern residences of our country gentry so enchanting and picturesque. All the country, for miles beyond this, is divided into fields of various dimensions, surrounded by hawthorn hedges. For many miles, the road on each side is fenced by neatly trimmed hawthorn trees. The road itself is formed of scoria, and is

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as good as those resting on the chalk formations of Hertford, at Berkhampstead and Tring.

This part of the country much resembles the neighbourhood of Keswick or Ambleside. Numbers of charming country residences are scattered here and there in every direction. Some seem snugly sheltered by overhanging rocks of scoria, others were perched on green hill sides, whose summits are adorned by the majestic kaurie and wild tea tree. Brooks of the purest water murmur through the fields and by the wayside. so home-like were some of these green fields that I could not resist climbing over the gates and strolling along under the shadow of the thorn fences, through which the wind sighed as pleasantly as I have heard it at Autumn-time in the green fields of home. Beyond Colonel Hullam's is a public-house, called "the George," near which are the slaughter-houses for the Auckland market.

A short distance from this, on the right, is the Government domain, a large tract of land reserved for botanical gardens. Near the domain is one of the prettiest country seats in the colony, the residence of the late sheriff of New Zealand, P. Berry, Esq. The house is one of the neatest in the province, and the adjoining grounds and gardens display an uncommon degree of taste and skill. Every advantage is taken of the admirable situation to give a pleasing variety to the scenery by

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which it is surrounded. In front are crofts with hedges full of sweetbriar and wild geraniums. At the rear is a woody maze or wilderness, with a broad coach road passing through it to a large white gate, which opens into a beautiful garden, with broad walks and abundance of the choicest flowers. The kitchen garden and other conveniences are all on a most improved scale. This place was sold by Mr. Berry, a short time before he left Auckland, for £1500.

The public road before-mentioned extends through a highly cultivated district to about a mile and a half beyond "the George," where it terminates in a tract of moor land which stretches away to the south from the foot of Mount Eden. The ground near the base of the mountain is covered with huge blocks of scoria--the debris of past ages, when it was a belching volcano. The more southern parts of the island have been occasionally visited by earthquakes. The inhabitants of the lovely valley of Hut, near Wellington, greatly famed for the luxuriance of its soil, and the grandeur of its scenery, are often alarmed by these unpleasant visitations.

The tract of land stretching away from Mount Eden is as wild and dreary in aspect as Raise Moor, in the county of Westmorland. The country towards Auckland, as seen from this point, closely

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resembled Grasmere and Rydal, when viewed from Wythburn.

Whilst wandering over this wilderness, I fell in with a number of young Maories, of both sexes, who had come up from the bay to sing and amuse themselves with the war-dance. They had built several huts and covered them with fern, as temporary residences. The females were engaged in paring potatoes and preparing supper. The young men were sitting in rows among the scoria and fern, about two yards apart, facing each other. Their mode of sitting is peculiar: they squat with the haunches resting upon the back of their legs, and only their feet touching the ground. In this position they will sit for hours. When they saw me, one of the tallest arose and walked slowly up and down the space that divided each row of his comrades, singing as he went, and becoming gradually more excited, till his appearance became truly terrific. In about ten minutes, his comrades were wrought up to the same state of frenzy, and suddenly springing to their feet, they bellowed forth what seemed to me a yell infernal. I am quite sure that had any person of weak nerves witnessed their frantic gestures, or heard their terrific shouts, he would have been apt to conclude they were going to pounce upon him as an accompaniment to their potatoes, But the dark day of

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cannibalism has passed away, and the Maories are wiser and better than their forefathers.

During the time I remained, this wild scene was exhibited, accompanied by their most horrid yells. When I began to retrace my steps, their frenzy was on the wane, and their wild notes soon died away. On my road, I passed by several Maories, who were of the industrious class, and preferred earning money to dancing and wasting their time. They were employed in filing carts with broken stones, and conveying them to where they were required. Their wages were 2s. per day.

It was dark before I passed through Epsom and Parnell on my way back to Auckland. Lights were flickering in the windows of the dwellings. In many of the comfortable parlours I saw cheerful and contented family groups round the table containing the evening meal. Over scenes like these, I often was induced to pause, and say to myself-- "How much like home!"

When I approached within sight of the bay, a most enchanting night-scene was unfolded before me. The darkness of the night, lit up by the lurid fires of the trading Maories reflected by the waters of the bay--the fantastic forms of their numerous canoes--the dark outlines of their curious tents-- and the wierd look of their sombre figures, as they moved to and fro, or sat singing round the fires--

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all conspired to produce an impressive spectacle of the wildest grandeur.

There is a museum near the bay. It contains numerous productions of Maorie art, and many natural curiosities found in the province. About the time of my visit, search was being made for the relics of Captain Cook and his party, which might have been left on the island. Parties having these in their possession who were desirous of parting with them, were requested to inform the authorities at the museum.

The hospital is situated on a charming and salubrious spot, only a short distance from the late residence of Mr. Berry. Heart disease is not so prevalent here as in Australia; although I met with many cases, resulting from the same cause--excess in the use of animal food and spirituous liquors. Some obstinate attacks of dysentery are frequently induced by over-indulgence in fruit. The Maories are much subject to scrofula, which breaks out on the neck. This appears to be the only disease they are troubled with, and it is quite possible it may have been contracted by their intercourse with Europeans. Captain Cook found them free from all cutaneous disorders.

Auckland has two weekly newspapers--the New Zealander and the Southern Cross. The former is the government organ, and the other the opposition. The cargo of the William Hyde was advertised in

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the New Zealander, and was sold at the exchange. The average price of the horses was £22; the cattle £9; the sheep 12s. and rams 15s. The horses were lean, ill-conditioned, and seemed more fit for the knacker's yard than active service. The cattle were no bad representatives of Pharaoh's lean-favoured kine. In a short time after the sale, the change they had undergone was truly astonishing; several of the horses had altogether thrown off their gaunty appearance, and the cattle were rapidly attaining excellent condition.

At this sale I met with Mr. Holstead, who in the course of the conversation said he was much surprised to find no donkeys in Auckland. He told me that there were none in any part of New South Wales; and it was his opinion, that, any person sending a cargo of these animals from England to New Zealand or Australia, would find it a good speculation. The climate of both is well adapted to the horse species; and there is every probability that the donkey would in course of time become a much finer animal than in England. It would, at all events, be most useful, and owing to its great powers of endurance, would be of great service to the colonists in their long journeys through the bush.

Auckland, like the cities of Australia, is well stocked with public-houses. Drinking is carried on to an alarming extent amongst the operatives,

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although it is conducted in a much less showy manner than in Australia. This state of things is much to be lamented, as most of the working-men might soon be independent if they were careful and sober. The publicans were liable to a penalty of £5 for selling intoxicating drinks to the Maories; but this law is almost openly violated; most of the inns have back-rooms where the Maories may be concealed, and have as much as they like. The police seldom interfere; and when they do, the matter is "hushed up" before it gets to the ears of the magistrates. On several occasions I witnessed a small room, at the rear of the Caledonian, full of Maories of both sexes, and now and then a chief amongst them, drinking and bordering on a state of intoxication. Those Maories who are addicted to the use of intoxicants soon die; and owing to this cause alone, numbers have perished in the vicinity of Auckland. Whether the race will become extinct, as many savage tribes have done, or whether they will be absorbed by intermarriage with the Europeans, are not uninteresting subjects for the Ethnological speculator.

I was so much pleased with the appearance of Parnell and Epsom, that I returned on the day following and engaged lodgings at Parnell. I paid 3s. 6d. per week for a modestly furnished room and attendance. The room was on the first-floor, in the front, and had a large window, originally intended

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for a shop, but had never been so applied. The house stood by the roadside, and adjoining it was a butcher's shop. A short distance from it also stood the shops of the grocer and baker. The view from my window was of a mixed character, presenting an extensive range of heath covered with scrub, the windmill, and many pretty country villas. Not far beyond was a road to the left, leading into a beautiful valley. A brook of clear water meandered through it, from which I often obtained a welcome supply of the finest water-cresses. Its banks were fringed with wild geraniums and numerous plants of the mallow family; graceful willows and beautiful striped grasses drooped their pendent forms into the limpid waters as they rippled past.

On one side of the valley there was a brewery and many neat brick and wooden tenements, surrounded by pretty gardens. One of these, the residence of the late Mr. Churton, had a desolate appearance. The garden was overgrown with weeds. A gate, on which was a brass plate, having "Rev. I. Churton " upon it, was leaning in a dilapidated condition against the posts. The whole place seemed in mourning for its late master. Mr. Churton was a worthy minister of the established church, and his loss was deeply felt by all who knew him. He left behind him a large family.

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One portion of Parnell bears a striking resemblance to Brandling Gill, the beautiful residence of Mrs. Ostle, near Cockermouth, with this difference, the hedges are full of wild geraniums, and the woods, instead of being composed of oak, with a sprinkling of firs, for the most part consist of the slender wattle and majestic kaurie-trees. The stream flowing through it abounds with water-cresses and aquatic flora of the most pleasing varieties. Across the stream, and on the other side of the valley, stands the mansion of Mr. Blackett. A thick plantation hides the rear of the house and the outbuildings. From, an elevated position the chimney-tops may be seen;: and from this stand-point the scenery around much resembles Haseness, in Buttermere, the romantic seat of General Benson.

In front of the house are extensive gardens, a small greenhouse, and vinery. The edifice is built in the Italian style, with a broad flight of steps leading to the principal entrance, where there is a terrace covered with gravel, and bordered with choice flowers. Near the foot of the steps is a sun-dial on a white pillar in the centre of a shrubbery. A high thick hedge of hawthorn and beech runs along the entire length of the gardens. A short distance from the dial is a natural doorway with an arched top. Through this is an orchard and a road leading to a wilderness, where rustic seats are placed in shady spots by the margin of a streamlet

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that winds its way through the grounds to the harbour.

On the evening of this day, I left the Caledonian hotel and took possession of my new lodgings. Shortly after retiring to rest I was entertained much against my will, with a series of furious curtain lectures delivered alternately by the butcher and his wife. The subject I could not understand had I been ever so desirous; for they were Cornish people, and although their addresses to each other were conducted with extraordinary vehemence their remarks were as unintelligible to me as though they had been uttered in the New Zealand tongue. Their sleeping-room was separated from mine by a thin wooden partition; and these curtain lectures, repeated nearly every night, were rather annoying at first, but I soon got used to them, and went to sleep long before their conclusion.

Numbers of the Maorie girls came every day from the bay with potatoes, fish, and firewood. My window was sometimes completely surrounded with them. I bought all my vegetables and fuel from them. Although I always gave the price they asked, I have frequently purchased potatoes for half the price charged in Auckland market. My bargains were concluded on their part with the most bewitching smiles, and "kaupie, kaupie" ad libitum. On the average, my food cost only 7s. per week. Washing was one of the heavy items;

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it cost me 3s. 6d. per dozen. Fuel was cheap; I only paid 4d. for what lasted a week.

The person with whom I lodged was a descendant of Sir Joshua Reynolds. He had been two years in the colony, and on leaving England, had taken with him a capital of £500. With this he had bought land and commenced farming; but no returns had resulted from his labours. He was then filling the humble post of tide-waiter, with the prospect of promotion. His wife was an excellent housekeeper and a most amiable and intelligent woman, and he had seen much of life in various parts of the world. But of colonial farming he unfortunately knew nothing, and the result was -- failure. His experience in New Zealand agriculture was dearly purchased; but he still possessed a little property in England, which he was about to dispose of and settle down with the proceeds as a useful colonist in the vicinity of Auckland. This is no isolated case; many who have gone out to Australia and New Zealand with limited capital and romantic notions, and the worthless theories of writers biased by interest, who draw more largely from imagination than any other source.

I would urgently advise all who intend embarking capital in farming, either in Australia or New Zealand, to put their money into the bank as soon as they land, and engage themselves for twelve months with a farmer. During that time they will

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acquire more practical knowledge of what is required to insure success than if they read all the books which have been written about these countries, since the days of Tasman or Captain Cook.

I remained at this place a fortnight, and then went to Auckland to take passage for the Feegee Islands, (in the John Wesley) which I had a great desire to see. On going into Brown and Campbell's office, to make enquiry respecting that business, I met with Captain Prance, of the Saint Michael, then in the harbour, bound for London, in the course of a few days, and I engaged to return home with him.

This was on Saturday evening; on the Monday following I went to the Wynyard Pier and waited till the boat returned to the vessel with provisions, and I was taken on board.

I may here mention that the operatives employed in getting us up fresh provisions were in great demand, both in Auckland and the Australian colonies. Good journeymen bakers and butchers had plenty of employment at wages of from £2 to £3 per week, with board.

I found every part of the ship in a state of confusion and disorder. The chief-mate and the steward had left during her stay at New Plymouth, and many of the crew had run away while she lay in Auckland harbour. The only person in the cabin was a Portuguese boy whom the captain had

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brought from Madeira, and he was anxious for his liberty, and careless in the discharge of his duty. Mr. J. B. Smith, the mate of a Yankee whaler lying at Wanganouie, had just come on board. He was engaged by Captain Prance for the homeward voyage. He was a fine fellow, in many respects an excellent seaman, and he set to work with a will to put all things right in his department.

The cargo consisted of copper ore, wool, flax, sperm-oil, and kaurie gum. Carpenters were at work fitting up berths in the 'tween decks for twenty invalid soldiers. The berths in the cabin were engaged by first-class passengers, at the rate of £50, and upwards.

The Saint Michael was a tidy Sunderland built barque, of 377 tons burthen, flush from stem to stern, with the exception of two small houses aft, for the officers to sleep in; but these could only be tenanted in fine weather. She had a full figurehead of Saint Michael armed with a sword and shield. Her cabin was both comfortable and neatly furnished, having a sofa across one end, a table, and strong high-backed seats, firmly bolted to the deck in the middle. Underneath was the lazaret, or general store-room.

During the week previous to my departure I took many rambles into the interior of the country. The last day I went down to Mr. Blackett's to get some plants I wanted to bring home, and he kindly

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permitted me to go through the whole place. The trees in the orchard were laden with fruit. Large apples, apricots, and peaches were lying upon the ground in all directions.

I wandered by the side of the stream, through the wilderness, and to the rising ground above, where I feasted my eyes with a last look of the beautiful scenery.

On the morning of the 14th of April, 1853, I took a final leave of my kind friends at Parnell, and many of the Maories at the bay, whom I had become acquainted with. I remained in Auckland a few hours, waiting for a boat from the ship, which Captain Prance had engaged, at the rate of ten shillings per day.