My Own Story: An Episode in the Life of a New Zealand Settler of 50 Years Back.

Emilie Monson Malcolm

First published by Brett Printing in 1904

Digitised and made available online by the University of Auckland Libraries and Learning Services.

Epub © 2013 Early New Zealand Books Collection

ISBN 978-1-927289-51-8

[TITLE PAGES]

MY OWN STORY:

An Episode in the Life of a New Zealand Settler of 50 Years Back.

Printed by The Brett Printing and Publishing Company, Limited.
1904.

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[PREFACE]

PREFACE.

(MY OWN STORY.)

"To him that hath shall be given; from that hath not shall be taken away even that which be hath."

The following narrative, strictly true in every particular, sets forth how the imbecile and incompetent officials who held office under the Provincial Government some fifty years ago, used the powers vested in them to make or mar the future of bona fide settlers, which resulted in two broken lives.

The actors in this drama of real life have all but myself passed away. I must beg my readers to acquit me of egotism or any desire to pose as a heroine or a martyr. Not being blessed with literary merit, all imperfections will be overlooked, as "My Own Story" is compiled from an old diary, not originally intended for publication.

For the authenticity of "My Own Story," there may still be found in the archives of the province the full correspondence. The result, partly owing to want of political influence, and partly to the then bankrupt state of the provincial exchequer, I need hardly tell my readers, ended in failure.

The only individual who was deeply concerned was the surveyor, who, at my husband's constant solicitation, was sent to cut a few lines, the only survey made. He, in his desire to serve us at the time of sale, as a forlorn hope, posted a Gazette, which we received a month after the calamity; but not the slightest notice from the authorities in office. We always felt a keen sense of gratitude for his desire to serve us.

A tribute to the memory of him who reigned for fifty years lord of my bosom's love, whose many virtues endeared him to those who best knew him, and whose sense of failure preyed heavily on a sensitive and refined nature, embittering the later years of a virtuous life.

"Adieu, adieu, my Native Land;
My Native Land, good night."

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MY OWN STORY, An Episode in the Life of a New Zealand Settler of 50 years back.

MY OWN STORY,

An Episode in the Life of a New Zealand Settler of 50 years back.

RETROSPECTIVE.

IN the spring of 1848 I left my home on the green and willowy banks of the Thames, a happy, young bride – the home that had for a period of eighteen years, under parental love, surrounded by books, flowers, and music, afforded me a life sans souci. Among the many admonitions of my fond parents, my father, a retired British officer, particularly impressed upon me that through life I should make duty and economy my ruling principles.

How far I have carried out his injunctions I will allow my readers to decide for themselves. Circumstances did not occur for a long period to test my powers of economy. I had had very little experience previous to my marriage, and I doubt very much if real economy is practised until there is a real necessity for curtailing what might be thought, under ordinary circumstances, only necessary requirements.

My husband, who had qualified himself for a profession, was suddenly made aware that the trustee of his patrimony had, by speculation, lost a considerable sum. The disappointment occasioned by the bad news caused him to change his views. He deemed it necessary to abandon his cherished hopes of a career at the English Bar, gave up his chambers, sold our pretty home, and arranged to proceed to New Zealand, with the hope of some day, to a certain extent, recouping his losses. After the sad farewells, we took ship for the City of Auckland. The passage, which lasted four months, was a fair and uneventful one. We had sixty passengers in all, most of them with more or less capital, a very worthy, respectable class, who, after such close intercourse for so long a time, lost sight of each other, as far as we ourselves were concerned, for ever.

The city, the population of which was 4,000, was a very primitive little town. There was no wharf, and a long wooden sort of gangway led to what was then Victoria Hotel. The means of discharging ships was by small lighters. We proceeded to the

Masonic Hotel, at that time a mean wooden building situated on the same site as now. A few gentlemen strayed into the hotel in the afternoon to hear the latest news from Home. One in particular engaged my attention. He was acquainted with many army men, old acquaintances of my husband's.

He was a fine, handsome old gentleman, who, in the course of conversation, told us he did not think we were the right class to emigrate. Now, how much truth there was in his prediction I will leave my readers to judge. I found his wife, whom he brought to see us, a dear old lady, who impressed upon me the fact that if I went into the remote bush with my husband to live I should never emancipate myself from drudgery. We all laughed gaily over the turn the conversation took, and I did not give a second thought to her prediction. The city was so small and dull, that we had soon wandered about and located the public buildings. St. Paul's stood at the top of Shortland Street, then known as – Heaven only knows why – Shortland Crescent. A few irregularly built shops lined the street, and were devoted to the sale of red blankets, camp ovens, and several other articles of trade I had never before seen.

Next to the Masonic Hotel was a brick building which formed the bank – a low, one-storey building. Where the Northern Club now stands was the residence of the late General Pitt, and the Post Office – a little, inconvenient building – stood where the Museum now is.

Government House had recently been burned down. The Barracks occupied the space now known as Princes Street. The Presbyterian Church stood where it stands now, but at the time I am writing stood in a sort of waste land, with only a few raupo houses in the vicinity. A flight of rude and dangerous steps led to Mechanics' Bay, a most picturesque spot. The Maoris had a sort of market here, and there was always a row of tents all along the beach and a large number of fine canoes drawn up to high-water mark, where they discharged their several cargoes. There were pigs, potatoes, peaches, fowls, onions, all open to the public for sale. The Maoris were all then clad in blankets, some red, others of an undefinable colour. Mechanics' Bay led to the little straggling suburb of Parnell.

To return to the city: The foot of Shortland Crescent, where the Post Office now stands, with the adjoining shops, was a very favourite spot with the Maoris. The tide coming up nearly to what was then known as Queen Street, it presented a very different appearance from the present day – a few shops, an auction mart, and an insignificant wooden building, the Magis-

trate's Court. The Court was presided over by an ex-military officer, a despotic, overbearing individual, who, on account of his persistent snubbing of a solicitor, had to make the amende honorable or resign his seat on the Bench. He chose the former, a choice we had subsequently cause to regret.

The Greyhound Public-house, where now stands the D.S.C., was about the extent of Queen Street. Beyond that was Grey Street, chiefly in ti-tree scrub, and so on to Ponsonby.

Besides St. Paul's and the Presbyterian places of worship there were St. Matthew's, in Hobson Street, the Catholic Cathedral – not the Cathedral of the present time, however – and several Wesleyan chapels. A Supreme Court, a judge, and an Attorney-General represented the higher branches of the Law. Sir George Grey had made arrangements to leave New Zealand, and the administration devolved on Lieutenant-Colonel Wynyard, a genial, hospitable, friendly gentleman, who extended his hospitality most liberally. It was on the occasion of his first public appearance as Deputy-Governor that a ball was given at the old Britomart Barracks. It was my first and last ball in New Zealand. The members who formed the assembly were of a mixed social class, but there was no display of what is now known as "side" – all seemed quite friendly and on easy terms of sociability with each other.

Demos, that: hydra-headed impostor, the instigator of murder, anarchy and unrest, had not the sway it now holds. Everyone appeared happy in the belief of better times to come. The Melbourne goldfields had drawn off a good number of the small population, and there existed a certain amount of depression. Being a garrison town, it was kept lively by the band and the soldiers. They, however, were withdrawn some time after our arrival and left an awful gap. There were two newspapers, issued bi-weekly. The papers were full of very abusive articles on each other, which resulted in a lawsuit, with a farthing damages, thus leaving the contending parties just where they were.

While on a visit in the country to view a small farm with a view of purchase, we left at the Masonic Hotel some very valuable articles in a portmanteau. Upon our return to town we found the hotel had changed hands, and our luggage had been removed to a room in an auction mart in care of the proprietor. Upon our examination some two or three rings and expensive waistcoats were found to be missing. The late proprietor had no lien on the goods, as our bill had been liquidated previous to our trip to

the Tamaki. My husband threatened law, upon which two rings were discovered and sent to me. Not satisfied with only a portion of the goods being returned, my husband sued in the Magistrate's Court, pleading the law, as he well knew it. Captain Absolute decided against him, declaring his court to be a Court of Equity, upon which my husband declared his opinion very strongly. So we had not only to submit to the loss, but had expenses of two guineas added. So disgusted was my husband that from that moment he abandoned the idea of following his profession.

Suitable houses were difficult to obtain. A lady of very prepossessing character whom we met at the hotel was the wife of a captain commanding a small trader on the East Coast, one of many of that day engaged in conveying the wheat and other Maori products. This young wife had a cottage of four rooms, and offered to let two, as she was very lonely. We gladly availed ourselves of the offer, and were soon comfortably settled for the time. We occupied the two front rooms – one a bedroom. At the time Captain – – - was away. It so happened he returned early one morning just as day dawned, and on taking a peep between the blind and a small curtain into his bedroom, saw my husband. My face was turned towards the wall. Furiously calling his wife by name, he kicked in the panel of the door and rattled the handle, which awoke all in the house. Poor Mrs. – – - called upon my husband to come and open the door; she was too terrified. She explained as soon as she could the particulars, and peace was restored with much laughter. "But," added Captain, "it would have been a tragedy if I had not left my revolver on board, contrary to my usual custom." Otherwise, in his rage, he would have fired without an explanation.

We soon after entered upon our farming, to give it a trial, taking up only a few acres, some 13 in all. As neither of us knew the least of farming, we had many very laughable experiences, with which I need not trouble my readers. My meat-curing and my other failures – I did not then know flannel shirts should not be boiled – were temporarily disconcerting.

After nine months' farming we found it necessary to return to town on account of my health. We disposed of our little property and everything in the house, and on our return to civilisation engaged a pleasant retreat – suburban in those days, now a part of the city. If we had only possessed the knowledge we afterwards gained, by simply stopping there we should have been able to realise a small fortune. But through, our want of knowledge of the world, and with no one to point out the

advantages we then had, we let that chance go by. Our joint ages on arrival amounted to 45. We had muddled away a lot of money in building on our farm, etc., and we found our not large capital gradually shrinking. We made up our minds to leave the colony, things were so hopeless.

At this time, too, came bad news from Home – that a brother had fallen at Inkerman, a bright youth I had left pursuing his studies at Sandhurst. This, with other domestic griefs, caused me to fall into a serious state of depression, which my husband sought to alleviate by change. We accepted the invitation of a worthy missionary to proceed to the East Coast, where my health was fully restored in a few months. The death of a relative brought a timely legacy to my husband, who, with his perfect ignorance of business in any form, was induced to invest for a large number of natives several hundred pounds in boats, whaling gear, try pots, and stores; but before they had time to do much in that line the report reached us of war, or threatened war. So, collecting what he could of his money, we again returned to the city. The natives behaved fairly well, and, but for the impossibility of remaining, no doubt would ultimately have paid their debt, then standing at about £400, invested in whaling gear, tons of rice, tons of sugar, blankets, etc., etc.

MORE DISASTROUS MUDDLING.

Not knowing what to do for the best was becoming a serious matter. We had now, with the little one we brought with us born in England, four girls. I had, as a matter of necessity, become strictly and willingly domestic.

It was at this juncture I was induced, after a serious private conversation with a lady friend, to pay a visit to a lady and gentleman who, with their two children, resided on an island some fifty miles from the city, many years before the luxury of steamers. During my visit I learned the following particulars:

The gentleman, Mr. B – – -, had come to New Zealand with a large capital some two years previous, and had been led to make an investment in a fine herd of cattle, imported from Twofold Bay, and then running on the island, the property of the Crown. They had largely increased, and spread all over the island. By an additional sum of £600 to the natives, who owned a very large portion, and by building stockyards in the several little deltas to get some of this large herd in for the market, Mr. B – – - further exhausted his resources. At the time of his purchase the land belonged to the natives. He, through them,

acted and assisted to extinguish the title on behalf of the Crown purchase. The generous Government would not allow Mr. B – – -'s claim, but, as he had made some improvements, agreed to allow for them should he leave the island. The family had resided on the island some eight years previous to my visit. Charmed as I was with this magnificent, though small, island, I was further interested in the family. It occurred to me that my husband, a Highlander, a fine shot, and a one time noted athlete, might choose such a retreat. I explained to Mr. B. our own situation, and a suggestion was thrown out that two might succeed where one had failed.

Upon my return I narrated all particulars to my husband, who was charmed with the idea of such a risky and adventurous life. On a cordial invitation to occupy a small cottage previously occupied by one of his employees – he had dismissed everyone previous to my visit – we broke up our home and proceeded to the island to discuss matters in common. Mr. B. gave my husband his full confidence, which fully exonerates him from any share of events that followed, his conduct from first to last being strictly honourable. Arriving at night, we were awestruck with the sombre magnificence of the forest, its stillness, its seeming desolation, its fine harbour of considerable extent, with little bays and sandy beaches wooded to the water's edge. It was the refuge for the many small vessels then trading with the natives in the ease of a sudden south-easter.

We took possession of the small cottage after a day or two of kind hospitality. We had been nearly three months in this blissful state – my husband had been initiated in cattle hunting and wild pig-sticking – when there suddenly came what our predecessor had for six years hoped and waited – a Government appointment as magistrate. With all the chivalry of an English gentleman, although no agreement whatever had been entered into between my husband and himself, he offered to refuse the appointment. My husband, with equal feelings, generously impressed on his host the necessity of his acceptance. We declared our willingness and desire to take up the life, and so these nearly three happy months suddenly came to an abrupt end. The vessel came to remove the family and their very large amount of goods, and the final leave-taking, as we paced the lovely, white crescent-shaped beach, discussing the sudden termination of our amenities, is still fresh in my memory. The boat came to the beach for the last time, when, amidst kisses and some tears, we bade adieu to each other. We remained waving handkerchiefs till the vessel was out of sight, and there and

then, bidding my eldest girl, now eight years of age, proceed with her papa to the abode of our departed friends to provide tea, I threw myself on the grass at the foot of a tree and gave vent to my overcharged feelings, sobbing bitterly, "Alone!" "Alone!" on an island with no other inhabitant, and fifty miles from civilisation, and only a mere chance of communication with the world. What had I done in so strongly urging my husband to take such a step? I subdued my feelings and rejoined my family, and all appeared cheerful. A sleepless night was passed by my husband and myself in discussing the future. My husband assured me it remained entirely with myself how long we should remain.

With morning came sunshine, the warbling of birds, and the voices of the dear children, who came into our room laden with beautiful flowers, so happy, and with a cheerful resignation found –

"Propitious hope, in thy sweet gardens grow
A charm for every ill, a balm for every woe."

To lay plans for our future, Mr. M. – my husband – dispatched at once a notice to the Government requesting a survey of the land on which our predecessors had built a large house of native materials, lined and papered. At the time we took possession it was falling to decay, and was propped up by a long pole. By the aid of some fresh thatch we passed the winter. I bore in mind my dear father's admonition by studying economy, by this time forced upon me. We had a good supply of stores, which we had brought with us, and a nice large stove. I never could manage the camp oven.

Plans for our daily observance were laid. Everything needed renewing – fences, gardens, etc. My husband arose early, and while we prepared breakfast he would proceed to fell trees for fencing, etc. Now, I reasoned I must take all the duties of educating my little ones, or they would eventually sink in the social scale. After morning prayer, lessons were at once commenced. After lessons, each was told off to perform some domestic duty consistent with their ability. Morning duties over, I would take them to the white sandy beach to draw ships, monsters, etc. The drawing of ships soon led to flowers, birds, etc. I found they had a great talent for drawing, and soon provided them with material; that formed one of their chief delights. After tea we assembled in a large room with a fireplace. My husband, after his day's work, which was laborious, would read, translating from a favourite Greek author, one of

the five languages he was master of, while my darlings sat around the table engaged in making paper flowers, shell baskets, etc. Saturday evenings were set aside for dancing, when, by the aid of the flute, and my own accompaniment of "La, la, la, la," they would learn the figures then in vogue, finishing up with singing the evening hymn, by which means I taught them to sing firsts and seconds, they having very fair voices. We, of course, took the lead, and so each day passed very happily.

I found necessity acted as a stimulant to my ingenuity, and while my husband read aloud I would invent little shoes from the tops of discarded Wellington boots, and I made no more mistakes in cutting out the material for little strangers. I had become an adept in turning to account moth-eaten shawls – a remnant of a good trousseau; also my husband's gown, which was suffering alike from moths.

Our predecessor, with great forethought, left my husband his two valuable dogs, without which hunting would have been impossible. He, in full possession of the necessary material for catching calves, would proceed early in the day equipped with appliances for tying the young things his dogs secured, never requiring to fire a shot. Upon his going out for a hunt I would give him strict injunctions, should an accident happen to him in his dangerous adventures, to be sure and raise a signal by hanging out a white handkerchief, which I supplied him with, so that I might be made aware of it. He promised if such an unlikely thing should happen he would do as I desired. After he left I would find myself saying, "And what, then, could I do?" Oh! how I tortured myself with reproaches. Why did I induce him to give up all the amenities of social enjoyment, possessing, as he did, every qualification for a brilliant career? But as he took so earnestly to the life he said he loved above all things, I resigned myself to the inevitable cheerfully, subduing all my fears. I took great delight in promoting our mutual interests. He was most successful, his strong and wiry physique enabling him to acquire extraordinary success in calf-catching. For my darlings' gratification he would sing a bar of the "Post Horn Gallop," to announce the fact that he had a calf, when they would all troop out to see the trophy, and ask me to come down and name it; and with a dish of milk I would dip my fingers in, and give the little frightened thing a taste. I soon found I had no more difficulty, and undertook the feeding of them. On one occasion my two eldest girls requested permission to go and meet papa, a thing I often did myself, upon his emerging from the forest. I saw no objection, and allowed them to

go. As it so happened, he did not return by the route he took on his departure. Upon arriving without the girls I became alarmed. My husband would not consent to wait, as night was coming on; but, dropping his pig, a black brute of 150 lbs. weight, he at once proceeded to look for them, myself accompanying him. We encountered no sign or sound for a long time, but at length a loud cooee was answered, and in the dim twilight we saw the dear children approaching us, singing, first and second, "Lovely Nights." They were enwreathed in forest flowers, with arms entwined, and were so happy that we could only say, "Do not do it again."

A bright tea table, a blazing fire, and cheerfulness again reigned in our home in the wilderness. By careful and systematic management I found time for all my duties, which I had learned to love, and had long since become familiar with solitude. My husband's success, and the confidence he had in himself, had a very stimulating effect on me. I no longer dreaded the sunset, but would stray some distance to meet him, in order to relieve him of the paraphernalia he was compelled to carry, and in this way our days passed in a round of contentment.

And so from day to day we watched with interest the progress of our improvements. A large space had been cleared of forest, and a good garden, in rich soil, soon gave us returns beyond our expectations. We had provided ourselves with a handmill and wheat, so that we should not run short of flour. The wheat we could occasionally procure from the cutters trading on the coast, and also secure a chance of communicating with the world. None of these little cutters, however, would come direct to our harbour with mails under five pounds, so we were glad to gather what news we could from the captain, or sometimes nice passengers, whom we found pleasure in entertaining on shore.

My darlings found diversion in hunting the adjacent forest, and would bring home lichens and mosses and various ferns to build grottos. They had a tame eel which took bread from their hands. A large wooden case served for a rough hospital for the wounded sea-birds, which, in their early peregrinations on the white sands, they would frequently find. They took an interest in collecting things to a ridiculous extent. One little one had a half-drowned mouse, which she had wrapped in flannel and placed before the fire to resuscitate, and upon her father killing it called him a cruel papa. Another small child came in hot and exhausted from her attempt to catch a lively butterfly, but she said it was so uneven she could not catch it. A third, who had for the first time seen the crescent moon,

enquired who broke it. One child was particular in occupying the same place at table, and would always insist that her sister should move a little higher down.

And so, wrapped up in each other, in the full enjoyment of health, our loving and dutiful children grew to be quite content with their isolation; they pursued their studies with diligence, and acquired the domestic instruction so necessary to their future duties in life. While engaged in the instruction of the latter, I, too, found I learned a great deal that I was previously ignorant of.

We still occupied the old raupo house, although it was very leaky and cheerless, but we had only the remains of our capital to keep things going till the Government had made a survey. My husband again appealed to the men in office to expedite matters before any investment was made in a new dwelling.

On one occasion I had a severe fright. I had accompanied my husband in the boat – a nice strong four-oared whaleboat – to the mouth of the harbour for a fishing excursion, returning at low tide. It was a very calm evening and no sea on, so she was left to come in with the tide. After the process of fish-cleaning, my husband came in to tea, and later he thought it time to secure his boat as usual, by tying her to a tree close to high tide. As he did not make his appearance for a long time, I threw a shawl over me and proceeded to the beach. There was no sign of the boat. On the grass at the foot of the tree I saw my husband's coat, boots, and trousers. In great distress I returned to the house to discuss with my children the discovery, which greatly increased my wretched state of mind. I could not for one moment think of suicide or abandonment. What could have become of him?

I placed in bed my very youngest children, made up a good fire, and, with my two eldest weeping girls, waited and listened for the smallest sound. "Oh!" I ruminated, "I have brought all this upon myself. I will, should I ever see his dear face again, urge him to abandon the blissful life and return to the safety of a civilised home among my fellow-creatures." Some two hours had elapsed, when our ears were greeted by his well-known cheerful whistle, and he came into the room with coat and boots in his hands, without his cap.

We were all enquiries, and soon learned all about the mystery. The tide – a spring tide, with the wind off the land – had receded, carrying the boat out to sea. A faint moon revealed to his sight that she was fast drifting out of the harbour. Seizing a small dug-out, some six feet in length, and two pieces of wood

my children had used as boats, he paddled out for a mile, when he fortunately rescued her; but, having no oars, had to paddle the boat and tow the little canoe. Hence his deshabille. Cheerfulness again reigned, and I forgot my previous determination, and chided myself for my want of courage – upon every small vexation wishing to beat a retreat.

A very wet winter had come upon us rather suddenly. I was not aware that the small creek that meandered so peacefully at the foot of the lawn would, in the event of heavy rain, overflow its banks to such an extent. A large quantity of small articles hung (as my little ones called it) on the grass to bleach were swept away, and a cask of biscuits that had been left in transit from the adjoining store was also lost. The deluge occurring in the night, one had no time to protect them. It was during this wet winter my first son and second child was born on the island. While still in bed my little girl of fourteen months was seized with a fit. She was placed in a hot bath and wrapped in her flannel gown and brought to my bedside. I took her in my arms, and, folding a shawl over her to screen the light of the candle, soothed her by croning her little song, my husband sitting anxiously by my bedside. I had the satisfaction, as I thought, of hushing her to sleep. She was so still and quiet, I turned back the shawl. The pretty eyes were wide open. I placed my fingers on them. Alas! she had fallen asleep, the sleep that knows no waking – she was dead. I will not attempt to describe the grief and misery that followed. It so happened a large schooner, wind-bound, came to anchor during the night. The captain, with great consideration, sent two of his men, who assisted my grief-stricken husband in the last sad duties. She was brought to my bedside for me to take a last kiss. Arising, I placed a white veil over her angel face. My children strewed flowers all over the little form, and she was borne from my sight. Upon a sofa rested a little bonnet and a pair of shoes, worn only the previous day by my dead darling. I knelt down to pray for support. My sobbing ended by my falling asleep, where my husband found me on his return from his sad duty. In the anguish of mind I besought my husband's forgiveness for inducing him to take up this life. With great fortitude and words of love and comfort he forbad me reproaching myself. As he himself put it, it was more his will than mine.

A slow recovery left me weak and dispirited. The sunshine hitherto of our sojourn in this wilderness was clouded. My husband, with great solicitude, urged that I should proceed to

town with my young children until the survey should be made. I weakly consented. But with returning health came also the bright spring, with all its charms, and I declined to leave my husband. He had been so successful in his calf-catching, and was looking forward to some return for his labours, as no other resource was open to him. We should soon have a fine dairy, and our crops were so promising – and how could we leave the little grave!

"And Hope, the charmer,
Lingered still behind."

Another bright summer brought prosperity, and Time, the healer, had its beneficial effects. Only a title to our home was wanting to perfect our happiness.

The numerous traders to the East Coast were usually plied with what was known as trade. We could, therefore, supply ourselves with all our requirements, at a price, from timber to room paper. Time sped on rapidly. The numerous cattle had considerably increased, my husband never killing a cow or heifer if he could avoid it. They had extended the whole length and breadth of the island, some thirty miles in length. My husband's control of the whole herd was ultimately followed by our legal possession of them. He was in the hope of obtaining neighbours, who would work with him in getting in the young and turning to account the great number of fat beasts.

I experienced a great shock upon one occasion. My children had gone, as was their wont, to gather ferns and mosses, when I was suddenly alarmed by the cries of my eldest daughter, who was bearing in her arms a dear little golden-haired sister, throwing herself about frantically and foaming at the mouth. She was in a fit. I observed a peculiar odour from her mouth. I at once placed her in a hot bath. I had the appliance always at hand. After a long sleep she awoke bright and cheerful. I omitted to tell my readers I had supplied myself with the Homoeopathic Echo and medicines, which, I am happy to say, never failed me.

I learned upon enquiry that the little models of cows, birds, etc., she had been making were from the pukapuka gum, and by moistening her fingers at her mouth she had conveyed the poison. We found that several of our cows had exhibited the same symptoms, but recovered shortly after.

We had a great surprise one day, when a warship, H. M. S. "Virago," came in. A boat full of gentlemen found their way to our place, and partook of our hospitality. A hunt was pro-

posed, so off they set with guns and dogs, whilst my girls and myself made ready for their return. My eldest girl, in her bewilderment at so much company, put my best teapot on the stove to dry after polishing it, when it, being left too long, collapsed. But tea was not needed, for they took my husband on board to dine. They were quite done up with the long walk, and had secured no game. The sailors came next day, and threw the line, and I had a fine supply of fish.

After a pleasant leave-taking, we felt again that we had still a relish for refined society; but, being met with our joyous children, so happy and contented, and gazing upon the blossoming produce of our labours, we fell into the old groove in a day or so. War had been going on for some time, and a notice had reached us indirectly that the Government had requested all out-settlers to come in to the city. My husband sent a courteous reply to the command of the Government, explaining his peculiar situation, and that it would mean ruin to his future, at the same time urging that a survey should be made of our improvements.

There were a few of the original owners of the island who did not yield to the sale still residing on the north end of the island. These same natives had often visited us, but my husband, who was well acquainted with the character of the Maoris, and who possessed a fair knowledge of the language, had no fear. In fact, it was by the aid of one of them that some of the improvements were made.

There exist several fine harbours on the south side of this island, which were occasionally used by the trading vessels. My husband, who had watched a vessel pass, concluded she had gone into the adjoining harbour, and being very desirous of getting a mail to town, proposed that a sail of about two or three hours would form a pleasant change for me. I gladly consented, so early on a fine morning we set out for the adjoining bay. Having put his mail on board, with the full assurance it would be faithfully delivered, we proceeded to return. A great change had taken place in the weather. A stiff north-easter, or, rather, I should say, north-wester, arose, making a terrible sea, and soon after came a squall that carried away the sail. For the first time in my life I became terrified, although knowing, as I did, my husband's perfect skill in boating. I could not stand the great dread I experienced, although assured there was no danger. We had only a few miles to go, but a dreadful point had to be rounded. I implored my husband to go into a little bay, and we would walk home. It was summer time, and still

daylight. Upon entering this little bay a sunken rock, covered by high wafer, quite unknown to my husband, capsized our boat, and we were precipitated into the water. With great dexterity my husband seized me and bore me to the shore, only about 12 or 15 feet distant. The boat was by the force of the wind and sea sent broadside on. Without a moment's hesitation he rushed to the boat, and, seizing the painter, tied her to a branch of an overhanging tree.

Being a non-smoker, my husband carried no matches. We squeezed our dripping garments, and, amidst a pouring rain, proceeded through the forest, with only the tracks of the numerous cattle to guide us. We had a distance of three or four, miles to travel. Night was coming on, and my feeble attempts to keep up with my companion utterly failed, and I sank in a dead faint. We had arrived at a promontory, where, finding it was impossible to proceed in rain such as I had never before experienced, my husband took off his coat and made a seat for me at the foot of a large tree, and, seating himself by my side, we sat to await daylight, he holding me lovingly in his arms to keep me warm. Daylight soon came, and we commenced our journey. We suffered much in mind on account of our dear children, who would naturally feel alarmed. A weary journey round the rocks and boulders brought us to our own sandy bay, where we were met by my eldest girl, who, with pale face, clasped me in her arms, telling me between her sobs how, at sun-down, she had paced the beach watching for the boat; how she had kept the fire in all night and re-filled the tea kettle. With great fortitude she had put all the little ones to bed, and bore alone all the anxiety of this dreadful night.

A warm breakfast and a bath ended for me with a few days in bed. As for my husband, he proceeded to milk the cows as if nothing unusual had happened.

Our mission bore fruit, however. A surveyor, with two native assistants, came to cut some lines only, the surveyor informing us before the survey was complete a staff would follow to peg off the different allotments. This gentleman proved a very interesting visitor for some few weeks.

With a vigour we had scarcely before exercised, all the material for building the little cottage was speedily prepared. A new life seemed to possess us, so glad were we to terminate our uncertain tenure. Our stock had now increased to thirty-five head, tame, sleek, gentle animals, who seldom left the vicinity of the house beyond a mile or so, for there was plenty of good grass and trefoil.

Still, there was no sign of the staff. Vessels came in occasionally with passengers, who, as usual, were hospitably entertained. The captain of one of the little cutters assured me the glow of our crimson damask curtains, remnants of former glory, served as a guide to the anchorage on a dark night.

We, my husband and myself, would sit on the beach and lay plans for our future, and so from day to day we still went on hoping and waiting, virtues in which we were gradually losing faith. All things are said to come to him who waits, but the thing that comes is sometimes not the thing expected, or wanted, maybe, in some cases.

Now, with our fine tame stock of hand-fed cattle, we had a good dairy, twenty hives, countless turkeys and fowls. My eldest girl, well on her way to womanhood, clever, industrious, sympathetic, and a little mother to her younger sisters, was a great help. A new room was added – being the third – to the cottage we first occupied at the other end of the crescent bay, which divided the orchard, etc., and the old site by a line cut to form a Government road, the only survey ever made in all these years. The old house was demolished to help the building of the new rooms. Our improvements in the building line completed, I had, with the aid of my daughters, papered the last new room with a very pretty paper we obtained from a trading vessel.

Lulled into security by the first act of the survey, we spared no pains on our, to us, little paradise. All the paths were broad and covered with white shell, and borders of lovely flowers edged the paths.

"We see a sorrow rising in our way,
And try to flee from the approaching ill;
We seek some small escape – we weep, we pray;
But when the blow falls, then our hearts are still.
Not that the pain is by its sharpness shorn,
But think it must be borne."

A long day of unusual toil led to an early retirement to bed. I had put up clean curtains in the new room, to be called the nursery, as a nice chimney was erected, entirely by my husband, for the comfort of the family.

My husband, from his outdoor life of labour, was a sound sleeper. Not so with myself. Upon this particular occasion I had slept for some hours, when I awoke with a start, my face and hair soaking with moisture, caused by the agony of a

dream. I do not pretend to have any faith in dreams, but I have faith in animal magnetism, or some mysterious influence we cannot account for in particular cases. This particular dream I will relate as bearing out my theory.

I dreamed that I was back in my first home as wife. My husband came to me and announced that he had sold our cottage. "But," he added, "I killed the purchaser and got back the deeds. I have," he continued, "buried him in the orchard." Now, my home in England had no orchard, but in my dream I went into the orchard that stood on the old site, and in a hole, not dug deep enough, was the figure of an old man with very white hair in a kneeling position, with a large stone placed on his head. As I stood gazing on him, he opened his eyes, when I awoke with a start. I sat up in my bed to steady my beating heart. I did not awaken my husband, but stole softly out of bed, put on my slippers and dressing gown, opened the windows, and stepped out into the cool air, and stood in the scented silence of early morn watching the sun rise behind the mountain range, till a flood of glory lighted up and revealed in all its primitive grandeur this beautiful bay. The forest extended to the water's edge, the calm sea rippled in little wavelets with a musical sound upon the white sand. It was high tide. A small schooner lay at anchor very close in shore, her sails reflected in the smooth water. The exquisite melody of the numerous tuis, the droning of the bees as they swarmed over the flowers that festooned our cottage roof and rustic porch, all so soul-inspiring, yet came to me with a heavy sense of woe. I could not divest myself of the feeling. I tried to rally, saying, "I shall be better when baby is born." I retraced my steps to the bedroom, and my husband, who was somewhat startled by my appearance, enquired of me how I was up so soon. I explained I had had a nightmare, and not feeling well had resorted to the open air, at the same time telling him there was a small schooner anchored very near in shore. I did not tell my husband the whole of my dream. I did not, even in a dream, like to think he was a murderer.

The household was aroused earlier than usual, although always consistent early risers. Breakfast over, we waited to see if a boat was launched. But none being in view, my husband went off to the little vessel, making sure it was the long-promised staff of surveyors. He returned very quickly, and, hastily coming up the little white path, the gate to which opened on to the beach, looking dreadfully white, took me in his arms, and, holding me some time before he could speak, told of the dreadful fate that had overtaken us. Some men who had pre-

viously partaken of our hospitality, 40-acre land claimants, had made application for the identical allotments, on paper, that we occupied, one being the purchaser of our cottage and surroundings. I will not attempt to describe the grief and misery I had to endure. A short time after my husband's return to me an old gentleman came up to discuss the affairs. Bidding me be seated, he very kindly spoke to me and begged me not to distress myself. I could not speak for my sobs. I was overwhelmed with dismay when I beheld the face of the old gentleman that was buried in the orchard. My husband, possessing great control of his feelings in general, was, he said, determined to defend his home at the mouth of the rifle. My dream flashed across my mind. I at once retired, took his guns and pistols, and hid them, for fear of what might come.

A long, very long, discussion ensued, when my husband put the stranger in possession of all the facts of our previous application, and the fact that our predecessor had a claim acknowledged by the Government, and that we had held joint possession for fifteen years. It was at his (my husband's) earnest appeal that the land had been partially surveyed. Now, this stranger deprecated the cruel and wilful act of the Government, and said he would give us no trouble. The other 40-acre purchasers did not take the same view. After a long and angry discussion they agreed to take the same amount of land in the adjoining bay, an agreement that was not adhered to. In spite of my husband's letter to the imbeciles in office declaring the fact of the agreement, no consideration was shown, and we had the satisfaction of paying one shilling and sixpence an acre for the improvements we had made in advance of the upset price.

The sum of £56 was at once paid in cash for the 80 acres we were cut down to, several expenses being added, and ours was the only money demanded. All the 40-acre claimants had their land free.

"How much the heart may bear and yet not break;
How much the flesh may suffer and not die –
I question much if long ache or pain
Of soul or body brings our end more nigh;
Death chooses his own time – till that is known
All evils may be borne."

And now, before our quiet hand-fed cattle could be mustered and shipped, some fifteen or twenty invaders, with licenses to destroy the magnificent forests, did not turn their attention only

to wood-cutting. Hunting was the order of the day, and so our "Fool's Paradise" was turned to pandemonium. My darlings no longer drew monster ships on the beach, no longer sang the Evening Hymn in our cottage porch. All was strife, anguish of mind, with ruin, ruin, ruin staring us in the face. In this helpless condition my second son came, after great deliberation, into this beautiful world, made vile only by man's inhumanity to man.

I need not dilate upon the results brought about by our ruthless invaders, who, with only an axe and a gun and blanket, were let loose, the consequence of which was that, for one thing, of our home cattle there were fifteen missing, which we never saw again. Of course, the cattle on the island, the rights to which to this day I possess in documentary evidence of a legal conveyance, were ruthlessly destroyed. My husband was grief-stricken when coming upon in the forest a poor half-dead cow, with a dead calf by her side. Disastrous litigation further plunged us into difficulties. All our resources were cut off. With a helpless young family, five of whom were girls of tender age. we were in a parlous state. We tried in vain to weather the storm; but to chalk cut a new course was hardly practicable. The war was still raging, and everything at famine prices. Whatever could we do? Our bright and happy home became almost funereal in its quietness. I would not consent to going to town with my family, which was so affectionately urged by my husband. Much sympathy came from people of all classes who had known us so long in our. quiet home. Upon a representation to the Governor, a kind and sympathetic reply was received from the late Mr. Domett, which I still possess, recommending to my husband the course to pursue. Worn out with anxieties, he fell ill, and was for some time prostrated with fever. So, with additional trouble, we struggled for a few years, in the hope of better times, times that never came.

The destruction of over 1,000 head of cattle was in a short time accomplished, and something like quiet came again. But the same feeling of hope had died out, although the duties to my large family kept me employed.

The next sixteen years belong to another epoch in our lives of the thirty spent on the island.

My dear girls were a great comfort to me. Amidst this confusion of affairs my husband was offered an appointment in Melbourne by a friend who had heard of our misfortune. I am afraid I, for the first time in my married life, failed in my duty. The thought of a separation under such circumstances was like

going to execution, we all agreed. To part after all these years of struggle, perhaps for ever, proved more than I could bear. I pleaded things would mend in time, I was sure, although there was little prospect at that time. Great depression fell upon the province. The withdrawal of the troops was followed by the removal of the seat of Government to Wellington, and there were very many bankruptcies. Only the discovery of gold at the Thames saved the province from further anxieties, and soon things in general began to improve, so far as the resources of the province were concerned. It did not, however, affect us, as all our resources had been ruthlessly cut off.

A small legacy came to my husband about this time, which was a great help, but not sufficient to start a family now numbering eleven, without my husband and myself, in the world, with a new order of things. My children, the seven eldest being girls, made it the harder for my husband, who never seemed to recover his wonted spirits. Many early settlers can tell of wrongs inflicted by the men that formed the members of the Provincial Government of the early fifties, but none ever sustained the infliction of total ruin as we experienced it.

It was at the close of our sixteen years that what I had always dreaded most occurred to my husband. The wild cattle-hunting had died out, from the fact that there were few left to hunt, so that to come across a beast necessitated a journey some distance from home. There was now no longer any necessity for carrying calf-tying apparatus, or paraphernalia of any kind beyond the rifle. My husband had gone a distance of five miles, with the intention of camping out. As night was coming on, he did not care to kill so late; but the incessant barking of his dogs led him to follow in the dense scrub, where he was suddenly confronted by a furious bull with flashing eyes. Before my husband had time to take aim, the bull charged savagely, knocking the rifle to a distance and inflicting a terrible wound from the corner of the left eye, and fracturing the forehead. He was insensible for some time, but on recovering consciousness found his faithful dogs by his side. The blood had flowed down his beard, and both eyes were, he thought, destroyed. Recollecting the vicinity, he crawled to a small creek, where he drank, and afterwards dipped his handkerchief and bathed his aching head and bound up the wound. With only his dear friends, the two dogs, to guide him, he retraced his steps, arriving late at night. With a tap at the window, he bade me not be frightened. Upon opening the door I beheld a pitiful sight that filled me with alarm. There stood my husband, with livid face, the handker-

chief on his forehead soaked in blood, his tie and shirt-front and his beard stiff with the blood that was still slowly ebbing.

With loving hands I bathed the wound. I could place my finger in the cavity just above the eye. I bathed the wound very freely with that modern blessing arnica, a weak solution of which gave great relief from the pain. After the necessary attention to his toilet, I made a bed for him on the sofa in our little parlour, fearing if he slept in his own bed I might in my sleep inflict some damage to the wound.

When day dawned I, in great trepidation, repaired to my husband's couch, where I found, to my inexpressible relief, he had had some sleep. Both eyes were, however, closed, and the surrounding flesh greatly discoloured. I renewed the bathing, but did not remove the bandage for some time, when, to my great joy, I found the sight of neither eye was permanently affected. With his customary fortitude he took his misfortune, and a few days after, with one clear eye, returned to the scene of the disaster, where he found his gun. The bull had left an impression on the barrel. And so at the very last, by his daring adventures, this accident occurred. He, poor fellow, with his love for the comic, declared it was, on the part of the bull, a desire to wipe out old scores.

And now, in my widowhood and advanced years, I am peacefully awaiting the time when "the wicked cease from troubling and the weary are at rest."

"Behold, we live through all things – famine, thirst,
Bereavement, pain, all grief and misery,
All woe and sorrow; life inflicts its worst
On soul and body, but we cannot die;
Though we be sick and tired and faint and worn,
Lo! all things can be borne."

The late Lord Lytton says to bear is to conquer our fate. Then, indeed, I may be said to have conquered mine.

Conclusion.

The unsuccessful beings in the world, although the want of success arises from no fault in the individual, but from circumstances over which they have no control, forcing them to take a course that ends in failure, do not evoke the sympathy of their fellow-men, but, rather, their condemnation. A man who in himself may possess great merit, if he cannot succeed in making money, finds no place in the colonial sphere.

It is, however, to the early unsuccessful settler, whose want of experience led him to invest his capital and labour in a laudable endeavour to better his condition, that the later emigrants owe much. The fortunate settlers of a later date have no idea what the pioneers had to encounter before steamers, roads, bridges, public schools, telegraphs, etc., came to the development of the colony. The failure of two at least of the early settlers has benefited to the tune of many hundreds the successors to land, etc., wrung ruthlessly from bona fide owners and given to those fortunate enough to enter the colony under the 40-acre system.

In the foregoing narrative I have instanced how the Jacks-in-office used the power vested in them to the utter destruction of cherished hopes and patient suffering.

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