Chapter I. BOYHOOD.
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A SURVEYOR IN NEW ZEALAND
Chapter I.
BOYHOOD.
1841
I was the fourth son of a country clergyman with a large family and small means, and I have no doubt that my father was delighted when my mother's brother, who had gone to Canterbury, New Zealand, among the first settlers in 1851, suggested that one of us should be sent out there to him. I was of an adventurous turn of mind, as the few incidents that I can remember of my boyhood tend to show, and, though I do not exactly recollect my own feelings on the subject, I am sure that I was rather pleased than otherwise at the thought of taking part in such an exciting enterprise, for in those days a voyage to New Zealand was indeed an enterprise.
1845
I was born in 1841 in the vicarage of Chilcombe near Winchester, but cannot remember anything about it, as we left when I was only four years old, my father having succeeded my elder brother in the living of Little Cressingham in Norfolk. This living had been held by my grandfather, the Rev. Thomas Baker, who was also the Rector of Rollesby, near Yarmouth, and a Deputy Lieutenant for the County. The only thing that I can recollect of my life at Little
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Cressingham, was being told by my elder brothers to say my prayers at the edge of the pond, as they were going to drown me unless I confessed what I had done with some of their fishing tackle. I had not touched or even seen it and said so, but believing that my end had come, I prayed and I daresay fervently.
1848
Shortly afterwards, when I was about seven, I was sent with a younger sister to stay with my grandmother at Yarmouth. She was the widow of the Rector of Rollesby, and after his death had returned to Yarmouth where she had been born and where she had a nice house facing the Quay, now used as a place of business. My father had given up the Little Cressingham living and had gone with the rest of the family to live in Germany, where I joined them in 1851, having become too big a handful for my grandmother to manage.
Certain things I can recall of youthful days at Yarmouth. It was then a place with wonderful narrow Rows, with fish houses on either side, and had only one jetty running out into the sea. A particular incident connected with this jetty I am almost ashamed to relate. With other boys I used to climb out underneath the wooden planks on which people walked, and between which there were small spaces, and we carried with us a bottle of ink and a squirt. If it became dark we knew that a lady was standing just over us and the squirt was then brought into play. Those were the days of crinolines, white petticoats and stockings and the effect on the stockings can be imagined. One day we were nearly caught. We heard an exclamation and a man's footsteps running back to the stairs
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that lead down to the sands. We slipped back ourselves and, fortunately for us, could drop to the sands before our pursuer could reach the steps, so we had a good start. We raced for our lives and being fleet of foot were not caught and thrashed as we deserved.
1851
I went to a day school and I remember the master's name was Swan. One day, being reprimanded, I exclaimed "I will cut my throat." He merely said "Go and do it in the yard you dirty little boy, don't make a mess here." The climax arrived when a stone thrown by me smashed the plate glass of a shop window. I sprinted as hard as I could, but was captured and taken back to my grandmother who had to pay for a new window. I was in great disgrace and a short time afterwards she announced that I was to be sent to my family in Germany, and that a German friend of my parents had promised to take me safely to them. I was conducted to London and handed over to him, but have no remembrance of the journey except that while in London we went to see the first Great Exhibition of 1851 in Hyde Park, and afterwards went on to Koenigswinter on the Rhine where my people were then living. My eldest brother had by this time joined the West India Steamship Co.; a younger brother had been born while I and my sister had been living with my grandmother; and it is a curious fact that the whole family were never all together at any time. Shortly after I arrived my two next eldest brothers were sent to England to finish their education, leaving me with my little brother and four of my five sisters. As soon as I had picked up sufficient German to under-
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stand what was said to me I was sent to the German Grammar School and for some years did very well.
This part of the Rhine is the beginning of the grape growing country and in the autumn on a certain day, the date of which I have forgotten, large bonfires were lighted on four different hills to celebrate the completion of the grape harvest. The town was divided into four quarters and the boys in each quarter collected faggots, empty tar barrels and anything else that would burn. These were deposited in some friendly courtyard until the day for the fires arrived and the game was to tackle the boys collecting in any other quarter and capture what they were taking to their yard. Once there it was out of bounds and safe, but many a pitched battle took place during the collection and as my brothers had taught me to use my fists, and the German boys only mauled and pulled each other's hair, I was always put in the front of the fray and my side was generally able to supplement its store with faggots not strictly its own. When the eventful day arrived each party of boys carried what they had collected to the top of their hill and as far as I can remember fights were barred on that day. At dusk the piles were lighted and we danced round them and great was our delight if our fire was acclaimed the best.
Koenigswinter is situated on the right bank of the Rhine. Above it are ruins of an old German castle (the Drachenfels), and many times as a boy I have climbed to the top of it. The hill on which it stands is one of the Siebengebirge (seven hills) all of which at one
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time or another I ascended. A second favourite resort was the ruin of the old monastery of Heisterbach. This also any smart boy could climb, but to-day I have no doubt climbing there is "verboten." In winter we had plenty of skating on the banks of the Rhine which was frozen and I became a fairly expert skater. We also had little sledges with iron runners and on the level we made quite good progress with a short stick in each hand, at the end of which was an iron spike. The excitement however was to drag the sledge up a hill and kneeling on it run down at an appalling pace. If one did not come a cropper the impetus gained on the down grade carried the sledge far along the level before it came to a standstill.
Now for a little wickedness (life would be dull without it!). The house we lived in had a garden in front of it and the back was flush with one of the streets. My bedroom which looked into this street was on the ground floor, but the window had iron bars across it and my good parents doubtless thought that when I went to bed I was out of mischief and safe. Alas it was not quite so. I was slim and had a small head, and where a child's head can pass a child's body can generally follow, so I would slip out, bad boy that I was, and go to the dances held on Sunday evenings. I often did this but was never caught. Another game was to get out at night and go to the boat pier where a steamer arrived at about 10 p.m. This pier was built on boats and was taken up and removed when the river was frozen and the steamers could not run. Our plan was to provide ourselves with a light bit of cord which
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was stretched across the pier twelve inches from the ground and which was held taut by two boys hidden at either end of a boat. When the steamer was due the intending passengers came hurrying along with their luggage in their hands; they reached the cord, down they flopped, their luggage flying anywhere; and how they cursed "donner wetter!" One boy slipped his end of the cord, the other gathered it in and before the passengers had pulled themselves together there was no visible cause for their mishap, but there were two grinning boys in the stern and bow of the boat.
One day when I was on the further side of the Rhine I met an Englishman who was driving cattle he had bought for export to England. He could not speak much German and was having some difficulty and he persuaded me to go with him to Cologne, where the cattle were to be shipped to the nearest port, and to act as his interpreter. From there he paid my passage back by river steamer, but I had been away for a day and a night and had caused great anxiety to my family.
The end of my time in Germany came in this way. I have said that I was sent to the German Grammar School. German masters had, in those days at any rate, the habit of pulling the boys' hair or tweaking their ears, but my father had asked the master not to tweak mine, as English boys would not stand it. One day, I suppose he forgot the caution given him (I do not know what enormity I had committed), but suddenly my ear was sharply pulled. Out shot my right fist. I cannot remember what part of his face I
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reached, but the next moment the master was sprawling over the form in front. I did not wait to see what happened; before he was up I was out of the room, and I went home and told my father what I had done. He only laughed and said it served the master right. Of course I could not return to the school and for a few months I did lessons with my eldest sister and obtained a smattering of English grammar. About this time my mother had a letter from her brother Archdeacon Mathias of Christchurch, New Zealand, saying that he would look after any boy of hers if she would send one out there.
It was therefore decided that I should go, and before long I was on my way to London to stay with my uncle, John Baker, who had promised to get my outfit and take my passage on one of the Shaw Savill ships sailing to New Zealand in January, 1857. Thus it came about that I
1857
found myself a cabin passenger in the good ship Maori, of which Captain Petherbridge was the master, and started on my Colonial career, a boy just over fifteen, with a certain knowledge of the German language but only the barest acquaintance with English grammar and arithmetic. I realized that I had to make my own way in the world and I had not the slightest idea of ever seeing England again, as there were no ocean steamers to the Southern Hemisphere then, though steamers had begun to cross the Atlantic to America.
The man who shared my cabin was a naval officer who had probably left the service on account of drink. I know that long before the end of the voyage I hated the smell of whisky like poison. The only other passengers I can
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recollect were a Colonel Silbery and his wife and family, mostly grown up. He was going out to take command of an English regiment quartered in New Zealand. By the time we were out of the Bay of Biscay my sea sickness was over and when we crossed the line and I was interviewed by Neptune and paid my footing, I had already ventured up the rigging to the first top mast. Before the voyage was over I had shinned up the top-gallant mast and put my breast across the truck of each mast in the ship and even helped to reef the sails when canvas was being shortened. I became somewhat of a favourite with the sailors and proud I was, when helping to reef the topsail on one occasion, I was allowed to take the weather earing, that is the outside position on the yard arm. I had however one narrow squeak of a ducking if nothing worse. I had climbed out on the bowsprit when I missed my footing and fell, but fortunately just managed to cling on to one of the guy ropes. A sailor who had seen my slip dropped a rope to me and hauled me on board again, shaking his head and saying "You are too venturesome my lad."
I might mention that Captain Petherbridge was rather keen that I should become a sailor and offered to take me as a cadet and to push me forward, but as two of my brothers had already gone to sea I thought a Colonial career presented a better chance for me and did not accept the kind offer he made of advancing me if I took to a seafaring life.
We had an uneventful run of about 90 days to Port Chalmers, our first port, where we landed some of our passengers and cargo, and
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we then sailed for Wellington, passing on our way the port of Lyttelton, which was my destination. At Wellington therefore I had to tranship into a small schooner in order to get back to Lyttelton as there were no steamers on the coast in those days.
