Bishop Harper— ‘the perfect, the ideal colonist’

Press, 11 December 1981, Page 14

Bishop Harper— ‘the perfect, the ideal colonist’

Five generations ago the first Bishop of Christchurch, Henry John Chitty Harper, and his wife, Emily, reached the new settlement on the Avon. To celebrate this arrival on December 23, 1856, 500 of the descendants of Henry and Emily are meeting this week-end. The story of this famous pioneering clergyman is written by P. B. MALING. The pictures show Bishop Harper and his wife; the first Bishopscourt, occupied in 1870; and the Harpers’ first residence in 1856: this house, to the right of the sketch by Dr A. C. Barker, is to the west of the Worcester Street bridge, lying between the sites of the Canterbury Club and the Public Library today, In the left middleground is the structure which preceded the building now occupied by the Canterbury Chamber of Commerce on the opposite side of Oxford Terrace from Noahs Hotel.

This week-end some 500 of the descendants of the first Bishop of Christchurch, Henry John Chitty Harper, and of his wife Emily, are meeting in Christchurch to pay homage to their memory. It is the 125th anniversary of the family’s arrival in Canterbury.

It is coincidental that the Cathedral’s Centennial is also being celebrated. Bishop Harper laid the foundation stone of the Cathedral in 1864 and the completed nave was consecrated by him in 1881.

When the Bishop died on December 28, 1893, it was stated in the “Canterbury Times:” “No man has so endeared himself to the people among whom he lived

... It was not his cloth alone to which all paid homage. Under the cloth was one of the best men who ever breathed — faithful in every moment of his life to the Great Master — and the whole province delighted to honour the man. His memory will be green for ever with a people thankful for his magnificent example.” This echoed the feelings of the people up and down the country and explains why so many of his descendants will have come from far and wide tomorrow.

How did Henry Harper achieve this reputation? He was the fifth of a family of nine children. His father was a physician to St George’s Hospital, London, and his mother was the daughter of Adam Jellicoe of Gosport, great grandfather of our Governor-General, Admiral Lord Jellicoe. It was perhaps from the Jellicoes that Henry acquired his toughness, both physical and mental. His character can be gauged by looking at several episodes in his long and full life.

Henry was educated at Hyde Abbey School, Winchester, and in later life he used to enjoy telling the story of how, in his final year when head of the school, he sat for a scholarship to Oxford. The founder of the scholarship had decreed that the winner must sing to the board of examiners before receiving the award. When faced with this ordeal Henry, who could not sing a note in tune, was struck dumb.

After various suggestions from the examiners had drawn a blank they held a

brief consultation and one of them said: "We shall be very sorry to pass you over for a small matter like this, but we cannot grant the scholarship unless we can certify that we have heard you sing. Come now, just raise your voice, and repeat after me.

“The old man then chanted the first two verses of the Magnificat and Henry managed to produce a few discordant sounds. A chorus of approval relieved the tension, “that will do, Mr Harper. We have much pleasure in awarding you the scholarship.” This took him to Queens College, Oxford where he excelled at rowing, running, and swimming. Having obtained his M.A. he accepted a mastership at his old school and was soon offered a tutorship which took him first to Ireland and then to Eton College. Here his worth was quickly recognised and he was offered a “conductship” which led to his ordination as a deacon in 1831.

One of his contemporary tutors at Eton, five years his junior in age, was George Augustus Selwyn. They became.firm friends and it was due to Harper’s influence that Selwyn forsook a career in law and sought ordination instead.

In 1829, Henry married Emily Wooldridge by whom he was to have 15 children, 14 of whom reached , adulthood.

When Henry left Eton in 1840 to go to Stratfield Mortimer, a College living, he received, among many testimonies, this from a fellow of Eton College: “My dear Harper, Salt is good: .you have been the salt of .this place.” Selwyn left the same year to become the first Bishop of New Zealand, and the next episode is 14 years later when he returned on a visit to England, called at the Mortimer Vicarage, and proposed to Harper that they should divide between them the diocese of New Zealand.

This left Harper with a difficult and momentous decision. He was already 50, had 14 children to cope with and a comfortable living at Mortimer. But the challenge was accepted provided there should be a definitely expressed invitation from. the people of Canterbury and some security as to a house for the family and

wherewithal to maintain them.

The sequel to this was recorded by Henry Sewell in his journal on Sept.2l, 1856: “About Mr Harper’s appointment. I forgot in my letter to Lord Lyttelton to answer his question how it came to pass that the Canterbury folk specially named Mr Harper. The answer is simple. It was my Lord the Bishop’s doing. When he was last at Canterbury all things were at Sea. Nobody could answer for anyone. But the Bishop said, ‘I know if you ask Mr Harper he will accept, and I recommend him.”

“For fny own part I doubt the policy of transplanting a Tree with so many branches. Also I am sure that £6OO a year is an absurdly inadequate income for a Bishop with 14 children, who must not plough, or sow himself.”

Sewell’s fears were groundless and the “branches” indeed proved of inestimable value to the church and to the young community. Henry Harper was consecrated Bishop at Lambeth Palace before leaving England. He took for the arms of the diocese a design which he found upon a gateway in the ancient city of Canterbury.

The scene now shifted to New Zealand. The Bishop, his wife, and 10 children arrived at Lyttelton in the Egmont on December 23, 1856. All 12 of them' trudged over the Bridle Path, down to the Cooksons Ferrymead, and then to a little cottage on the Avon between the present public library and the Canterbury Club.

Sarah Cox; fifth of the Bishop’s daughters, recalls in her “Recollections.” “The neighbours had very kindly provided us with necessary foods, and, after a night’s rest, the next day —' Christmas Day — we were able to be present at my Father’s installation in old St Michael’s Church. We girls had all fresh muslin dresses, little capes, and bonnets. Dean and Mrs Jacobs kindly entertained the whole family at dinner afterwards.

“Life was very primitive in those days. All our water had to be carried from the River Avon; we girls thought it great fun to do this ourselves, and when a cow was lent us later on, we also learnt to milk, and cut up our firewood. We had to

mount to our bedroom by a step-ladder, and could see daylight through the roof in places; one of my sisters put up an umbrella one night when it rained. “We remained in this cottage for two years; my sisters, Mary and Ellen were married from it in September, 1858; and in the following November we moved to Bishops-court, which we found very comfortable after the small cottage.” Harper’s diocese stretched from Nelson to the Bluff, including Westland. He made a point of visiting as much of it as -possible, walking, riding, and staying at isolated homesteads. He had many adventures and narrow escapes.

On one such occasion in 1857, he and his son, Henry, had been given directions for fording the flooded Mataura river, but the Bishop mistook the entry point and he and his horse disappeared into deep water. Young Henry flung himself off his horse, plunged in, and caught his father by the hand and drew him. to the surface. His son recalled: “Then a swim for the opposite bank, both of us heavily clothed, a tough job in such a stream, which carried us down a long way and when we did make the bank we found ourselves in deep water up against a rock with steep sides, to which we clung until, coasting down, I found a crevice by which I managed to climb up, and, after much effort contrived to haul my Father up, safe and sound but drenched to the skin.”

They were in a sorry plight but found a hut where they were made welcome by the owner, a former sailor in charge of cattle for the runowner. He lit a roaring fire and cooked a meal of steamed eel.

Henry recorded: “Every now and then he would come into the hut to see how we fared: ‘To think of it! Who would have supposed it? A Bishop with nothing on but his hat, and one of my red blankets, sitting by my fireside! My Lord, I trust that the wind which percolates through the interstices of my poor house does not inconvenience you.’" The discovery of gold in Westland in the 1860 s brought a big influx of miners. The Bishop made at least three trips to this part

of his diocese, enduring all manner of .hardships, sometimes sleeping on the ground sharing a tent with diggers. Returning over Arthurs’ Pass on his first trip in 1865 he met James Preston, later to become vicar of Geraldine, driving cattle over to the diggings.

Preston recorded in his journal on September 19: “Got at last to the Taramakau — staid in a shanty, no one in it but a black man, it was called a store but had no stores in it — as it was raining hard we slept in the place, left our cattle and horses down in the bush. As we were about to cook some grub up came the Bishop, Lewis the lawyer, Woods the miller and George Harper the Bishop's son. Our grub was short, none to be got for love or money — what was our horror when Lewis made a dead set at our ham that we were about to fry, they all looked starving so we gave them each a little.

“The Bishop and his lot were all wet through when they came and up to the eyes in mud. They gave us such as account of the road we had to travel that it was enough to frighten us.” After this the Bishop appointed his eldest son, Henry, Archdeacon of Westland.

The Bishop’s six daughters all married happily and had large families. Of his nine sons one died as a small child, one was lost at sea, one died young and unmarried, two entered the Church, two became lawyers, one a doctor, and one a farmer. ‘

In 1868, the Bishop, Mrs Harper, and their youngest daughter Janet, paid a visit to England. It was the occasion of the Pan-Anglican synod at Lambeth. It was also the last year of Selwyn’s ministry in New Zealand as he had accepted the Bishopric of Lichfield. Harper was unanimously elected Primate in his place. A display of affection greeted the Bishop and his wife on their return to Christchurch. They travelled from Lyttelton by train through the new tunnel and were given an official welcome with flags flying and a triumphal arch at the entrance to Bishopscourt, followed later by a civic welcome in the town hall.

Bishop made one more trip to England in 1878, and the next year he and Emily celebrated their golden

wedding. The family — some 75 were present — made it a great event, and during the afternoon at Bishopscourt they entertained between 500 and 600 friends.

In 1888, Emily died, and the next year the Bishop, who was becoming increasingly deaf, announced his retirement. He was 85. During his rule the number of clergy had grown from 10 to 60, some 65 churches had been built and consecrated, 15 more church schools were established, the cathedral had become a reality.

In the chair at a General Synod the Bishop once said: “I have always been a man of peace.” Others noted this rare humility and modesty and that he never voluntarily courted publicity. Nothing was more abhorrent to his nature than ostentation, or self-seeking, display of any kind.

His youngest son, Gerald, who was head boy of Christ’s College, wrote later: ‘My father’s resolute and almost stern character, as I knew him in middle life, was much concealed by his calm and conciliatory manner, but we boys knew that he was never to be trifled with, and that he would punish with severity any sort of idleness or illbehaviour.

“He left upon me the deep impression that he never had an ideal of power, or wealth, or fame, but that to go about doing good and to promote the welfare of his fellowmen with all his strength were the objects he had in view in his whole life.”

The Bishop died in his ninetieth year, having lived to see his one hundredth descendant for whom he coined the name "Municent.” The late George Macdonald reviewing Barbara Griffiths’s biography “Do Nought Without A Bishop,” had this to say to the Bishop’s family: “The great Harper clan have been distinguished by common characteristics. They are never emotional; they never get carried away by wild enthusiasm . . . But one may find them scattered about the country, established, stable, content . , .

“This tough, prolific family with a high standard of conduct and unbreakable hearts, are a living demonstration that'the Bishop was not only everything that could be hoped for a young settlement; he was himself the perfect, the ideal colonist.”