Heroic Women

Evening Star, Issue 23503, 17 February 1940, Page 19 (Supplement)

Heroic Women

Henry Lawson lias a story which he calls ‘No Place for a Woman.’ There were many such places in Now Zealand in the early days, but the brave hearts of the pioneers made the best of them. In H. C. Jacobson’s ‘Stories of Banks Peninsula ’ we read : “ Mr and Mrs Brown and the others who had squatted on the banks of the Hiver Hutt [the site first chosen for the settlement of Wellington] soon found out their mistake in going to live so near to that treacherous river. On the first of Juno, 1840, Mrs Brown’s first son was born, and that same night heavy rain set in, and the following morning the river had over flowed its banks ; and the flood was over two feet high inside the house. The bed in which Mrs Brown was lying began to float, and as it was impossible' to move her, it was proposed to suspend the mattress to the rafters of the house. “ As this latter, however, was a torn porary erection, made of small scrub in its rough state, Mrs Brown objected, fearing the whole structure ivould give way and she would be drowned. Her entreaties were at last listened to, and she was left where she was. Fortunately, when the tide turned the river began to fall gradually, so the suspension was never carried out.” A Delicate Woman. In 1843 George Rhodes arrived in New Zealand to take charge of his brother William’s station at Akaroa. He engaged two men, William Birdling and Israel Rhodes (no relation of the Rhodes brothers) to help him with the cattle. Israel Rhodes took charge of the station formed at Flea Bay (on the outer coast of Banks Peninsula), so named, it was said, from the predominant fauna. Mrs A. E. Woodhouse tells this story in ‘ George Rhodes of the Levels and His Brothers ’:— “ Israel Rhodes’s wife was a delicate woman, whose first two children had died in infancy, but now with her third child, a W'ec baby, she went with her husband to the little cob and thatched cottage on the bay where their only neighbours were Maoris. She lived hi terror of the Natives; and when left alone would shut herself up in the house. She soon found,’however, that they had the kindliest intentions. “ The simple, healthy life agreed with her so well that she became a strong woman and reared a large family. She worked very hard, and when there was butter to sell she would 'rise early in the morning, milk the cows and then carry the butter to Akaroa, walking the

HARDSHIPS OF PIONEERING

eight miles of rough track over the hill, for there was no horse at Flea Bay for many years. After doing the family marketing [Akaroa was then three years old] she would carry her purchases home in the evening and once more milk the cows before going to bed. They had gallant, stout hearts, these pioneer wives and mothers.” A Lodge in the Wilderness. When George Rhodes, in 1854, took his wife (just arrived in New Zealand) to the station which the brothers had acquired beside what is now Timaru, their journey over the trackless tussock and uubridged rivers from Christchurch occupied seven days. To quote Mrs Woodhouso: George Rhodes brought his bride to the homestead on the beach at Timaru. . . It consisted of three rooms with an attic above, and at the back a low lean-to which was probably the kitchen. There was a verandah in front, which Mrs Rhodes paved with flat stones that she carried from the beach. There were also a few outbuildings, stockyard, etc. Later tw r o more ■rooms were added to the south end of the house, . . . “ After living for a short time at the homestead on the beach, George took his wife to the Levels station, which was more in the middle of the run. They lived in a hut, 30ft long and 12ft wide, with walls Gft high built of totara slabs thickly lined with cob, made by mixing clay with water and chopped tussock, and held in place, with wooden laths. The roof was thatched with tussock or raupo. There were two rooms, a bedroom, which occupied a third of the floor space, with a loft above it, where Sarah M'Quecn or her successor slept, and a drawing room, dining room and kitchen combined, which had a large open fireplace at the further end, with outside chimney made of cob or sods protected from the weather by rough wooden slabs. There was no communicating door between the two rooms. “ The tight bodices and wide crinolines which fashion ordained for the women of those times must have added considerably to the difficulties of life in such cramped surroundings. When two women wearing crinolines were in the kitchen there can have been room for little else, and they must have looked enviously at the men in their loose red or blue flannel shirts, moleskin trousers, Wellington boots, and shady cabbagetree hats.” There was but one other white woman in South Canterbury—nine miles away.