II. A BRIDE OF FIFTEEN
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II
A BRIDE OF FIFTEEN
WE had great difficulty in finding a home, for, much to our dismay, I may say distress, we found that the large iron house my father had brought from England was useless. Part of it had gone astray at Melbourne, and no one knew how to put together what was left.
At last we found a small house, scarcely big enough for us to squeeze into with all our luggage; but there was a garden, and that was my delight. The cabbage and fern-trees looked so foreign and tropical.
Whenever I could escape from the drudgery of sweeping floors and washing up after our meals, it was lovely to go out there and watch the birds. Bright green parakeets with scarlet heads were chattering in the trees, and bell-birds sounding their sweet notes, and brown parrots with pink under their wings, easily tamed by feeding them. I caught one and tied it on to the branch of a tree quite near the house, and all its bird friends used to visit it and help it to eat its food; and it became so tame and fond of us that when set at liberty it would not leave us. There were crowds of little fantails also, something like robin red-breasts, only smaller, and all brown, with fan tails of white and brown feathers opening and shutting as they pirouetted about with their quick joyous movements.
There are few New Zealand birds left now--they are all dying off--but in those early days they compensated for much of the misery of our indoor life. My mother tried to cook in an open fire-place on logs of wood in a camp oven (an iron pot with three short legs), under which was placed embers from the burning wood. The meat was placed in a tin dish in the iron pot with a flat iron lid; embers were also laid on the lid, and these had constantly to be renewed in order to cook a joint
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of meat. There were no ovens then, nor ranges such as we have now, and until we learned how to manage the wood fires the pan of potatoes was always tumbling over, and, alas! the kettle for tea also, very often scalding us.
But at last we profited by our experiences and became better managers, and soon we got an American stove, which was a great comfort when we could get the wood chopped small enough to go into it.
My poor mother spent most of her spare time in crying, whilst my father was rejoicing in his improved health, which the voyage and New Zealand climate had restored.
After some weeks news came from England which decided my mother to return there, and she was absent for one year, during which time my father and I managed to do the housework and attend to my small sisters and brother.
My father one day hired a man to clean the windows, and although his appearance was dilapidated, his voice and manner were those of a gentleman. When he asked me for a bucket and towels and basin, I asked, 'Why do you want a basin?'
He said, 'Because when I have washed the windows I always throw cold water on them as a finishing touch.'
Poor man, the finishing touch was when he threw the basin instead of the water through the window! He was profuse with apologies as he gazed at the broken window, but we laughed, and advised him to dispense with his 'finishing touch' the next time he cleaned windows! (Eventually he became very rich and inherited two baronetcies.)
We had many kind friends, and although so young I was allowed to go to grown-up parties, my piano-playing and singing to my guitar accompaniment being much appreciated. And as it was my only relaxation from hard work, my father allowed me to go. But when it came to cooking I was not so successful, and I have grave suspicions that my cooking was not conducive to health, for before my mother's return we all looked ill and weak, and she was dreadfully upset by our appearance. But we were glad to get her back, and she was in good spirits,
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having now a little help with which to replenish our nearly empty coffers.
A few weeks after my mother's return she told us that she had met such a nice man, a Mr. Hewett, on her voyage out. He had been very kind and attentive to her, and quite in fun one day she said to him, 'You are so good to me I cannot think of any better way of rewarding you than by giving you my daughter Ellen.'
Much to her surprise, he said quite seriously, 'Thank you, I will take her,' and every day during the rest of the voyage, at five o'clock in the afternoon, he used to sit beside her and say, 'Now please talk to me about Nellie.'
I had never seen this Mr. Hewett, and my mother thought that at the end of the voyage they would part, as most travellers do, and never meet again. But instead of this, she had only been a few days in England, at my married sister's house, when Colonel Hewett, the father of her friend, was announced. He had taken the journey from Winchester to Lancashire to see my mother, and gave her an invitation to visit his home at Winchester. This my mother promised to do before leaving England, and when the time arrived all were mutually pleased with each other, and a marriage was arranged, so far as they were all concerned, if we liked each other. But as we had never met, that 'if' was a big one, and my father's consent had yet to be obtained.
My mother and Mr. Hewett both returned on board the same vessel to Wellington; then my mother came on to Nelson, he going further north to his farm. But he soon crossed over from the North Island to Nelson to see my mother. At first I refused to appear, and hid myself, feeling irritated at the sort of way in which I imagined I was being disposed of. But my mother soon disarmed me, saying, 'Don't alarm yourself unnecessarily--he is sure not to like you!' As I was modest enough to believe this assertion, I went shyly into the presence of the man who was destined to be my husband.
He afterwards told me that it was my singing that evening to my guitar accompaniment that captivated him.
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The next day my mother hired a piano, and his playing captivated me; so after a few days we were engaged. I was fourteen and a half years old, but my year of hard work and responsibility during my mother's absence had added years to my age in experience.
Soon letters arrived from every member of my fiance's family in England giving me a loving welcome into their circle, and an invitation to spend a year with them. By the same mail came an invitation from my married half-sister asking me to visit her in her beautiful home in the North of England. These invitations were accepted, and preparations for my voyage were commenced forthwith. My fiance, who had returned to his farm in the North Island would not hear of my going; but my father and mother insisted, and I myself was eager to go.
However, fate favoured the wishes of my fiance, who, after reading my letter telling him of my decision to go to England, at once inquired about steamers leaving Wellington for Nelson. In those days steamers were scarce, and he found he could not reach me earlier than a fortnight.
So he chartered a small craft in Wanganui which was used for carrying potatoes to Nelson, and the winds favoured him, so that in less than twenty-four hours, and to our utter amazement, he appeared at our house, as we knew no steamers were due at the port. He was very determined, said he would take his passage in the same vessel with me, and let his farm go to ruin, and so on; and further, he vowed he would not leave Nelson without me.
He got his own way, for my father was too ill to be worried, and my mother, wearied by importunity and arguments, was only too glad to be rid of us. She also had received a voluntary promise in writing from Colonel and Mrs. Hewett saying that I should be provided for in the same way as their own daughters, and that they would look upon me as one of their children. Knowing, too, how soon my father's life might end, my mother reluctantly agreed to my very early marriage on September 7, 1858, only three weeks after my fifteenth birthday. 1
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My eldest brother was so averse to my marriage when so young, that he left the home in disgust, and was away for a year or more; but taking everything into consideration I know that my poor mother did what she thought was best for all.
We spent a month in Wellington, where I bought my first bonnet at Kirkcaldie and Stains, forty-five years ago. They were very small drapers then, but to-day are considered to be the first in our metropolis.
Many of the Wellington people called upon me, and we spent pleasant evenings in their nice homes.
It was a joy to me that my husband was proud of my singing and playing, which were natural gifts.
When we arrived at the little garrison town of Wanganui, where we spent three weeks at the Rutland Hotel --before riding out to my husband's farm twelve miles beyond--we were made much of, and invited to take part in musical evenings and other festivities, and many life-long friendships were then formed. Some of those friends are still living, many of whom remember me as a bride of fifteen, and speak in flattering terms of my appearance in those days. 2
One of the kindest of these friends is Mrs. Jones, a charming old lady, still living in Wanganui, her sons all doing well. In those early days of hardship and peril she was a true friend and helper to us outside settlers in Wanganui. She welcomed all who needed her hospitality in her house, situated on what is now called the Quay, where there are large business buildings. She had all her own housework to do, and also kept a school. Some of the scholars were boarders, and she had four small boys of her own. But her management and energy were marvellous; she was always tidy, and so was her house and its inmates; everything seemed to move on well-oiled wheels, nothing jarred or clashed. On one amusing occasion, however, when, with her usual kindness, she had persuaded me to stay the night as I was not feeling up to the long ride out to our farm, and as Mr. Jones was away, I occupied a small bed in her room. I was nervous, having heard that the house was haunted by a Maori murdered there some years before.
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The story was, that sometimes in the dead of night gun-shots could be distinctly heard. Of course, the thoughts this story suggested were not conducive to sleep. I tried to follow Mrs. Jones' example, but could not. Soon I heard a loud 'bang,' which made me spring up, but as it had not awakened my kind hostess, I sat up trembling in the dark, when 'bang' went another shot. I could bear no more, and I remorselessly awoke my good friend, and said in terror, 'I have distinctly heard two shots fired!' Instead of being annoyed at my disturbing her, she said, calmly, 'Poor Mrs. Hewett, it is purely imaginary.' I exclaimed, 'No, indeed, indeed it is not!' and as I spoke 'bang!' went another shot.
She hastily lighted her candle, and bravely went down the little staircase, I following pale and trembling. We found the 'ghosts,' but--'Oh, what a mess!' exclaimed Mrs. Jones; 'I must have made my ginger-beer extra strong.' The ghosts were the corks that had escaped from the bottles with a bang, hitting the low wooden ceiling, and the frothy liquid was flowing freely over the floor.
This little incident caused a great deal of chaff for Mrs. Jones and myself; and we little knew then, as we laughed merrily over it, how soon there would be real shots and no laughing.
Many of the officers and their wives were charming people, and their society a great joy to my husband, who was himself a military man, having been educated in Germany at the University of Bonn. 3
Some of the people in Wanganui asked for soldier-servants, and leave was often granted, much to the satisfaction of all concerned.
My mother hired a man as help in the house and garden who obtained his discharge when first the troops came to New Zealand.
Before he came to my mother, he had lived away in the bush out of reach of civilization, and had become quite odd and 'wanting' in intelligence. His appearance alone would have daunted any one less courageous!
The first visitor who called after Robert arrived was a Mr. Harrison. Robert opened the door just wide enough
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to poke his head out. For an instant Mr. Harrison stood aghast, and then hurried away. On meeting my mother in the street he said, 'What on earth have you got up there at your house? Something opened the door when I knocked, and all I could see was hair and teeth.'
By degrees Robert was induced to shave and to become more human in appearance, but he was always a source of amusement. One day he was sent for some beef-steak, and was cautioned not to loiter on the way back. But he did not return until after the dinner-hour had passed.
When he at last appeared, my mother said, 'Robert! where have you been?' He replied, with great excitement, 'On the Bench, missus. Yes,' he vociferated, 'on the Bench. When I was coming home with your beefsteak, I see a man beating his wife, and she called me to help her in the name of the Queen, so I had to go. And I gave him "what for." Then she set on to me.
So I got her head under my arm and gave her one. Then the policeman came and took me to jail. But I said, "You can't keep me here; I've got Mrs. Baker's dinner in this basket." Then,' he added, 'I had to see the magistrate and tell him all about it; and I said, "If you don't let me go, you'll have to take this beef-steak to Mrs. Baker yourself. My word, she'll give it you!"'
'O Robert!' my mother exclaimed, deprecatingly.
'I thought I'd frighten the magistrate,' he explained, 'and he'd let me go quick; and so he did.'
So poor mother got her share of our laughter as well as Robert. He could not read, so my mother used to explain the pictures in the New Testament every Sunday afternoon to him. He loved to hear the story of Redemption, and, under its influence, became gentle and more civilized.
His great delight was to attend funerals. When my mother had gone to England his new mistress said, 'Robert, I am going to Sydney; what present shall I bring you?' With his eyes sparkling with pleasure, he said, 'A pair of black kid gloves to go to funerals!' My mother used in fun to say that Robert would not be half so useful if he had more sense!
