1884 - Cox, A. Recollections - CHAPTER X. New Zealand...

       
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  1884 - Cox, A. Recollections - CHAPTER X. New Zealand...
 
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CHAPTER X. New Zealand...

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CHAPTER X

New Zealand--How I came to Visit it--Canterbury--Its People--Its Plains--My First Trip to South Canterbury.

I am now in a mood to tell the story of how I was induced, and by whom, to visit Canterbury, New Zealand.

In the year 1854, whilst on a visit to my wife's friends, at Newcastle, New South Wales, I was introduced to Mr. Sidey, at that time engaged--and very profitably, it was conjectured--in shipping sheep, cattle, and horses, with a fair sprinkling of foals in addition, to Canterbury, Wellington, and Otago.

He had much to say about New Zealand in general, and of Canterbury in particular. Of the latter, its climate, its soil, and of its certain and prosperous future, he apparently knew not when he had said enough, enthusiastically declaring that it was the choicest spot in a land of Goshen,--a land if not already full to overflowing with milk and honey, ready at once to afford a future and a happy home to all the beeves and bees that enterprising shippers and settlers could import into it.

This experienced man urged me again and again to lose no time in visiting it, for that it was, beyond question, far and away above all other British colonies; and in fertility, second to none in the known world!

Who could help lending a listening ear to all this enthusiastic talk of the great future of this new El Dorado called Canterbury, or turn away from the opportunities for investment lying invitingly open to men of moderate capital and unbounded enterprise? I, at anyrate, yielded to the fascination of this inspired advocate of the claims of Canterbury to a chief place in the future of New Zealand.

I visited Canterbury, taking stock with me, intending to part with them if I was not satisfied with the look of the country, and to hold them if the story told of its grazing excellencies and future capabilities had a sound foundation. Before visiting it, however, I quite by accident met with a man who had recently come from Canterbury. Inquiring from him whether a stranger going down to Canterbury would find it difficult to secure unoccupied grazing country, I was

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told that the province, from one end to the other, was already mapped out into runs and allotted, but only to a small extent stocked, and that if I was prepared to purchase, there would be no difficulty in getting a run. This gentleman, so well informed upon grazing matters in Canterbury, finished up by offering to sell me a run not yet stocked, for which he demanded the sum of £100. I paid the price demanded, and put into my pocket the "license to occupy," with the transfer of his right, title, and interest therein.

This transaction closed, both to his satisfaction and to mine, he somewhat timidly, and with the air of a man who was really conscious of a desire to do a smart thing for himself, pulled out of his pocket a second "license to occupy," stating that he had it also for sale, but that owing to its being of inferior quality he was prepared to take for it the smaller sum of £50. Paying this sum, I became owner of the second run. These two runs I afterwards occupied and stocked. They proved to be equal in quality to the very best natural grass country that was to be seen in South Canterbury.

The first great financial mistake of my life was the parting with my interest in that property. I came, I saw, and if later on I cannot be said to have conquered, I will not lay the blame on the country that first attracted me, or upon the man who first advised my visiting it. The burden of the blame must rest on my own shoulders. I have never desired to shake it off with the intention of making another bear it.

The man who sold his interest in these runs to me was what in those days was called a " Canterbury pilgrim." It is quite possible that some of my readers may need enlightening as to the meaning of the term. A pilgrim was one of the original Canterbury colonists who came out from England under the auspices of the Canterbury Association. He, like many another of the lot, was sufficiently proud of the distinction. In those early days the Canterbury province was said to be peopled by "pilgrims," "prophets," and "shagroons." Why these earliest emigrants from the old country were called " pilgrims " needs no explanation. They were wanderers from the land of their fathers. "Shagroons" embraced all outsiders--all the uncovenanted, as they were playfully called--men who had strayed over the borders of neighbouring provinces or who had come over the waters from Australia. This first detachment of Australian squatters that came with the very legitimate object of spying out the nakedness of the land,

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soon got to be called "prophets," from their being much given to prophesying as to the future of Canterbury and its settlers.

These Australians were experienced in all matters relating to the management of stock, able and ready to turn their hands to any sort of out-of-door work, and were at once accepted by the pilgrims as reliable guides in such matters.

In the early days, when the distinctive names were well understood and playfully applied, a good thing descriptive of Canterbury and its colonists was said by Edward Jerningham Wakefield. In reply to the question put to him by an Australian recently arrived as to the class of colonists to be encountered in Canterbury, he said, "Sir, I perceive by your question that you are a stranger. Understand, then, that the great and obvious distinction between the population of Canterbury and the other provinces of New Zealand is, that Canterbury is peopled by representatives of every class and section of English society, from the peer to the peasant, while the population of the other provinces is nothing more or less than a straggling, struggling mob--an undistinguished herd, made up of mere men and women."

Edward Jerningham Wakefield was the only son of Edward Gibbon Wakefield, one of the chief promoters of the scheme of colonisation resulting in the Canterbury settlement. He (the son) became a settler in New Zealand, and for a short time took a prominent part in New Zealand politics, holding a seat in the first House of Representatives at its assembling at Auckland in 1854. He was included in a Ministry that lived a short life in the same session. He was admittedly clever, and was a fluent speaker, later in life developing a talent for successful out-of-door oratory that has not often been surpassed in New Zealand. At the outset of his political and parliamentary career he was regarded by many as likely to command success, but he certainly failed to make the most of his opportunities.

The father's antecedents in connection with Canada, as well as New Zealand, are well known to all students of colonial constitutions. He had a high order of intellect, and was cultivated up to the limit of his capacity; was handsome, after a true English type; and in my humble judgment, was as able a debater as the Parliament of New Zealand could boast the possession of. And yet he was not a Parliamentary success. During the interregnum between the fall of the first Ministry in the General Assembly and the formation of the

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second, he held the position of adviser to General Wynyard, the Acting-Governor. But he never held office in a regularly-constituted Ministry representing the Governor and responsible to Parliament.

The lives and labours of so many men of inferior parts and of a less varied and eventful experience having in these days been written, one is a little inclined to wonder that no one qualified for the performance has yet taken in hand the responsibility and labour of recording the many efforts that this able and energetic man made, in speech and in print, to impress upon the minds of Englishmen the necessity and charms of systematic colonization. I have never had the opportunity of reading his book on the "Art of Colonization;" but if he wrote as vigorously, as pleasantly, and as persuasively as he spoke, I can hardly wonder at the great success of his many attempts to move his countrymen to seek out a new home in a fair and far-off land.

Since writing the foregoing pages relating to the father, Edward Gibbon Wakefield, I have had put into my hands a book entitled "The Founders of Canterbury," Vol. 1 consisting almost exclusively of letters written by him, when the scheme of colonizing Canterbury was being discussed and organized. This book is edited by the son. In his preface he writes thus of the last few years of his father's life: "At a public meeting at the Hutt (Wellington) called by him in 1854 on his return from Auckland, to explain his political action during the session, he spoke for five-and-a-half hours amidst impressive silence; returned to Wellington in an open chaise against a south-east gale; sickened, lingered for seven years in the privacy of a sick room, and died in May, 1862, aged 66."

His portrait, spoken of by the son and by all who had seen him as a truthful and beautiful likeness, is hanging up in the Canterbury Museum. In the obituary notice in the Press newspaper he was spoken of as one always fully occupied, and that "more matter had issued from his brain to which, when printed, other names had been appended than from that of any other man." Although so voluminous a writer on colonization, and connected indirectly with those initiatory plans, he never seemed to have had an opportunity--never was allowed to carry into operation his own views and his own schemes.

The writer of the notice referred to then goes on to say: "Considering the persons with whom he was in communication, and the

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subjects of his correspondence, we should imagine that his private letters would form a volume of great interest, for he was a most admirable letter-writer. But his great forte was his power of conversation. In that he was indeed without a rival. Not that he possessed the ordinary powers of a talker. His qualities were neither convivial nor social. It was in the private interview, seated by his own fire, with his magnificent blood-hounds at his feet, when he had a point to carry or a cause to serve, that his singular powers of fascination had full play. Few men could resist his influence, except those--and they were not a few--who resolutely refused to submit to a seance. Those who remember the cottage at Riegate, where statesmen used to come for counsel, and Ministers have sought advice, can never forget the rare enjoyment of an evening spent in the company of this most remarkable man."

These letters by Edward Gibbon Wakefield were addressed to such men as Lord Lyttelton, Sir William Molesworth, Messrs. Buller, Baring, Adderley, and others playing an important part in Parliamentary life in the old country; and to such men as Mr. Godley, Messrs. FitzGerald, Sewell, Simeon, Dillon Bell, and many others equally well known in the colony.

But the burden of the hard work of organizing and pushing into notice the Association, seems to have been borne by Wakefield and Godley; the latter of whom, as Canterbury pilgrims are not yet in a mood to forget, became the first agent of the Association.

All who had any experience of Mr. Godley in his administrative work are of opinion that he was a first-class man. The writer of the readable book "Colonial Experiences in New Zealand," an old Canterbury resident, admits his great usefulness and aptitude for all sorts of official work, and speaks of his speech at Lyttelton on Sir George Grey's "Provincial Councils Ordinance," then being criticised by the public, as "a masterpiece of cogent reasoning and eloquence." Mr. Godley's personal connection with the colony terminated after two years of indefatigable labour. He was further spoken of by the same writer in the following terms:--"His commanding intellect, winning eloquence, and administrative ability, conferred upon him such a proud pre-eminence, and removed him so far above his contemporaries, that, unconsciously it may have been to himself, his was a personal government of the most pronounced type; a kind of intellectual despotism that unintentionally repressed and stifled all free

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discussion, because no one felt sufficient confidence in himself to enter the arena."

But anyone having the time, opportunity, and inclination, had better at once procure a copy of the book edited by J. E. FitzGerald, intituled "Speeches, &c, by Godley." This volume is made up of "despatches," "speeches," "letters," and memoranda relating to subjects mainly connected with colonial questions. It opens with an interesting sketch of the life of Mr. Godley, drawn by a friendly hand, quite competent to do justice to the character and acquirements of this exceptionally gifted man. That he was an orator, no one who ever heard him speak would dream of denying. The quality that he is said by his friends to have possessed in an unrivalled degree was "the rare one of an earnestness not simulated--not the trick of an actor, but real and heartfelt, which carried conviction to the mind of the hearer. He was emphatic, clear, and logical, and in a word, the most convincing speaker we ever listened to." In matters of religion he is spoken of as "thoroughly sincere and devout." "In manners he was not always popular. He was often very thoughtful and abstracted, and so gained credit for a haughtiness and discourtesy quite foreign to his character." "He had an unmitigated contempt for humbug of every kind, either in the form of dishonesty in money matters, hypocrisy in religion, or of corruption in public life. Honourable himself up to the loftiest standard of chivalry, he shrank instinctively from anything like trickery, public or private, in other men."

A writer in the Press newspaper speaks of his remarkable love of work, not grudgingly or of necessity, but from a heartfelt conviction that--to use his own words--"life is a battle, not a feast," and that "it is the business of man, and most of all the noblest men, to work, to struggle, and to strive." The same hand writes: "The erection of this statue will be a proof that Canterbury is not unmindful of services rendered to her, and that all who in their several capacities have devoted themselves to supporting her interests will ever be held in high esteem."

On the occasion of the inauguration of his statue, Mr. Charles C. Bowen, who took the chief part in the ceremony, and who had been his intimate friend, spoke fully and eloquently of the many services rendered to the settlement in its earliest days by this hard-headed and honest-hearted man. He said: "I am not now defending all

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the theories of the founders of Canterbury. Experience teaches many lessons; and Mr. Godley himself would have been the last man to uphold all the visions with which he started. But the great enthusiasm which led to a great endeavour bore its natural and legitimate fruit." Again, "In some future day, when this generation is dead and gone, to those who look up inquiringly at this statue, it will be told how the fathers of the colony left their homes and tamed the wilderness under the leadership of a man of heroic type; how when he died, the representatives of the people, appreciating his character, determined to erect a monument worthy of his memory; and how a great sculptor, in executing the work, impressed it with the stamp of his genius."

"So shall some old man speak in the after time
To all the people, winning reverence."

Of Mrs. Godley, and of the influence exercised by her on Canterbury society before the rushing in of a flood of strangers, he writes appreciatively, speaking of her as "ever gentle, cheerful, and uniformly courteous to all."

Such men as Mr. Godley deserve to be well spoken of, and the good done by him and those near and dear to him to be had in everlasting remembrance. The early Canterbury colonists who witnessed and benefited by such intelligent and unselfish devotion, do but show a just appreciation of what is excellent when they speak proudly and affectionately of the first founder of the Canterbury settlement.

My first venture in the shipment of sheep, cattle, and horses to Canterbury was in the Admiral Grenfel, in 1854. She was a smart barque, but built for quick sailing rather than for the carrying of live stock, We were not long in coming up with Cook Strait, and in due time were landed at Lyttelton. The Australians who accompanied me in this my first trip to Canterbury with stock, were not too favourably impressed by the first view of the hills around Lyttelton harbour. They had heard a good deal of the vast plains of Canterbury, but nothing, or very little of the high hills cutting them off from the Port.

Having made arrangements for the temporary grazing of the stock, within easy reach of Christchurch, I lost no time in making arrangements to inspect the runs that I had purchased in Australia. When on arrival I announced that I had bought a man's interest in

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runs, I was thought to have done a foolish thing, and told that nearly the whole of South Canterbury was unoccupied, and lying invitingly open, and that without purchasing anyone's interest therein, I could, by applying to the Commissioner of Crown Lands, secure all the country that I was in search of. I thus was made aware that this transaction in which I had recently figured as a principal and the purchaser, and my pilgrim friend, the seller, was the first of the kind that had been heard of or sanctioned by the authorities in Canterbury. Not long after this, such sales and purchases became common enough.

I shipped from Australia, from first to last, not less than three thousand sheep, three hundred and fifty head of cattle, and forty to fifty horses. What out of these I threw overboard on the voyage over, I don't care now to write down.

I arrived in Canterbury knowing no man in it except Mr. Angus Macdonald. His brother William, who had arrived in Canterbury the year before, I had not at that time met. I saw him for the first time living on his station at the Waimakariri river, where these two brothers, seasoned squatters, were to be seen at work all day long, and every day, after a fashion that caused enthusiastic pilgrims, looking on, to express admiration and envy. On my first visiting them, they were living under canvas; very busy, very jolly, and very sanguine as to their future prospects. These men, who belonged to the order of "prophets" already referred to, had had considerable experience in Victoria in squatting life, and were, I think they told me, induced to take up runs and try their luck in Canterbury, by the description given of it by Mr. Robert Rhodes, who thought and spoke of this new colony of Englishmen as a paradise for squatters in its early days, and likely to become in the end a thriving agricultural settlement.

Amongst the accomplishments that Australians of the above type could fairly boast was the hitherto unexperienced sight and sound of the crack of a stock-whip, and the art of driving a team of bullocks. They certainly did this in superior style--to the astonishment of pilgrims, and to the intense delight of small boys, who, when they heard the ringing crack of the bullock-driver's whip, and saw the driven team approaching, crouched down in the ditches or peeped round corners, crying out in an ecstasy of delight, "Clear the road, make room for the bullocky all the way from Australy.

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An old professional bullock-driver of the labouring class once spoke of Angus Macdonald's claim to be regarded as A 1 in the accomplishment, in the following terms:--"I never see a swell handle a whip and drive bullocks to beat him; but after all said and done, we old hands, you know, brought up to the business, only think and speak of him as a hamature" (amateur).

The men whose talk was of bullocks, sheep, cattle, and horses in those days, the remnant of them (for many have joined the majority) are now to be encountered sporting fine linen and living sumptuously.

Making known to my friends, the Macdonalds, that I was going south, to inspect the runs that I had purchased in Australia, I was told that we were likely to become neighbours, for that they also held country in that part of the province, and that ere long they would be prepared to stock and occupy it. Getting from them all necessary information as to the nature of the rivers to be crossed, and provided with a sketch-map of the country to be travelled through, I set out accompanied by my two Australian friends, Messrs. Healey and William du Moulin.

Our first stage was to the Rakaia river, where we camped. Thus far, we had travelled along a well-defined track; from this point southwards we had to steer by a distant mountain peak, the only further direction given us being "south-west by south, and nothing to leeward." Early next morning we took a good look at the river. We had heard much of these Canterbury rivers, of the danger in crossing them when in the least flooded, and we had made up our mind to take no liberties with them. On the side of caution, I even proposed, in the presence of William Macdonald, to secure the services of a guide, with a view of being piloted over them. But he laughed at me, saying "it ill became men hailing from Australia to be influenced by such fears." We were thus left to our own judgment in finding a ford, with the result that two out of our party were quickly unhorsed, and with difficulty succeeded in scrambling out on to the bank. This was eventful for a beginning. It had, however, the good effect of preventing future mistakes. But as I only had escaped a ducking, it devolved upon me during the remainder of the trip to pilot the party over all big rivers.

At the next big river, the Rangitata, in the crossing of which caution was necessary, I had not only to ride over, having found a

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safe ford, but I had to go back to my companions and accompany them over, to such an extent had their nerves been shaken by their recent sousing in the Rakaia.

It is well known to all Canterbury men that these snow rivers are flooded after north-west winds. These hot dry winds, often blowing for days, cause at times very serious risings in the big rivers, and blow with a fury that even a mounted horse is unable or unwilling to face. A contributor to the "Canterbury Rhymes," an old identity, writes thus of the winds that Canterbury is too often buffeted by:

"Oh, squatters, beware of the powers of the air,
When you come with your cattle and sheep;
For New Zealand's a spot just loosed out of pot,
And the wind there is never asleep.
"It comes from the south with a burst in its mouth,
Bringing snow, sleet, or drizzling rain;
Or it changes to west, and does its behest
With a blast twice as furious again.
"The vessels at sea, stout and strong though they be,
Are totally lost to command:
The canvas is rent, the strong masts are bent,
Or they're hopelessly cast on the strand.
"The best of good fellows can't stand the strong bellows
That are ever at work on this shore;
So stick where you are, it is better by far
Than come here and be heard of no more."

On the following day we reached the Ashburton river, where we were comfortably housed for the night at a sheep station, that, for the convenience of travellers, had to be turned into an accommodation house. At this halting-place I first met Mr. David Innes, on his way to Christchurch. He owned a station upon which he lived for some years, a few miles south of Timaru. On introducing ourselves, stating that we were going on to the Orari river to form a station, he welcomed us to the province, and spoke favourably of the locality that we were interested in, describing it as a well-grassed country and in other respects as well suited for occupation. He caused us to smile when he enquired if we were provided with a pocket-compass to steer our course by, declaring that it was a necessity at times, owing to the dense fog that at that time of year was often encountered. Finding us unprovided with one, he handed his over to us.

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On the following morning we crossed the many streams of the Ash burton river, and towards evening found ourselves on the north bank of the Rangitata. The exact spot where we pitched our tent on the banks of the Rangitata was within a few hundred yards of where the traffic bridge now stands. At this time there was no station occupied on that river; but in a short time a station was formed, and huts erected within a stone's throw of our camping-ground. The spot is now well known as the late Sir Cracroft Wilson's head sheep station.

Crossing the river, which, though not deep at the time, was troublesome to ride over, owing to the big boulders that were embedded in its bottom, we steered for the lower end of the Waihi bush, where we camped.

We were now actually on the country included in my "licenses to occupy," and were well satisfied with its quality. On the following day we headed the Raukapuka downs (having to thread our way through a net-work of small swamps and creeks) and got on to the Temuka river, and followed its course down to the Maori pah at Arowhenua.

Being within a short distance of Mr. William Hornbrook's station, we called upon him, and were hospitably received and entertained. We also received from him some reliable information as to the quality and boundaries of the runs that I was now beginning to regard as my own, and that I had travelled so far to see. Staying a day only in the neighbourhood, we steered for the lower end of the Raukapuka bush. We camped here, and quickly made up our minds that the future head-station should be planted in the immediate locality. The exact spot where our tent was pitched was where a blacksmith's shop now stands, at the junction of roads near Geraldine on the left or north bank of the river Waihi. It is a little remarkable that the only few acres left of land still owned by me in this locality cover the site of this first camping-ground on our flying trip through the country.

In the immediate vicinity of the Raukapuka bush were some Maori huts, occupied by natives belonging to the pa at Arowhenua. After our occupation of the country they frequented the spot but seldom. Why they left it was best known to themselves. My representative at the station declared that the only good reason that he could conjecture in accounting for their final disappearance from the locality was that they had been refused a supply of sugar to sweeten

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the milk that they had been abundantly supplied with and seemed very glad at first to get. Milk for nothing, supplied in abundance, was good; but they preferred sugar with it, and if they were not supplied with that they would do without the milk, and from that time out they were taken at their word.

We made no long stay here, hurrying on to get over the Rangitata river before it had time to rise and pull us up in our course northward.

Having reached Christchurch without a serious check, we were congratulated on having escaped the dangers of the rivers Rakaia and Rangitata, and were pronounced fit to join the noble army of squatters fast forming throughout the province of Canterbury.

Thus ended my first visit to Canterbury, in 1854. I made one other trip with stock in the same year, in the ship Tory. The stock landed and forwarded to the station, I left Lyttelton for Auckland, on my way back to Australia, and did not revisit New Zealand until the year 1857. Meanwhile I again visited England.


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