IN THE LIBRARY

Northern Advocate, 7 September 1935, Page 6

IN THE LIBRARY

[BY “THE BOOK-MAN”]

the hill and bring Mrs Carruth. I found her ready for the flight with her baby in one hand and her cashbox in another. When we reached the little vessel she was high and dry on a mudbank, and if the expected foes had come they could easily have waded from the shore. Forty-eight people were soon crowded on that tiny ark of refuge. . . . When the fTde rose we started. No words can describe the wretched voyage. . . . Auckland was full of refugees from Russell, as all the women and children had been sent from there for safety.” Childhood Days at “Deveron.” Mrs Jackson’s recollections of her childhood days at “Deveron,” Whangarei, make interesting reading: “Our lives were busy and happy,” she writes. “The day commenced with family prayer. On Sundays, a service was held in our dining room, conducted by my father, Gilbert Mair, and later by my brother Robert, the neighbours gladly attending. Visiting clergy stayed at our house, and when , they 1 officiated at Maori ceremonies one of my. brothers acted as interpreter. We gave land. for a church and assisted in building it. We grew and made almost every necessary, importing other commodities from Sydney. I can remember seeing my brothers cutting wheat with a sickle, a handful at a time, we children gathering ears in our little pinafores, and, like the workers in the rich man’s vineyard, each received one" penny at the end of the day. The grain was on a sail on the floor of the barn with a home-made flail. It was then taken outside to winnow. If the wind was fair, one of my brothers would stand on the sail, holding a sieve above his head, pouring slowly, the wind separating the husk from the grain, which was again taken into the barn to grind in the mill. By turning a handle two flat circular stones , revolved in opposite directions, filling a bag with coarse flour.” Intimate glimpses are given of the lives of the members of the Mair family, almost all of whom found resting places in the churchyard in which Christ Church stands. The .family * rendered notable service not Only to ’ Whangarei, but to the Dominion. Mair Park is an eloquent testimony to the public spiritedness of Robert Mair, ’* who presented it to the town, a gift ’ which may yet be acknowledged l in a ’ fitting and permanent manner. t We have quoted only a few of the incidents recorded with eloquent pen ! by Mrs Jackson, but they will suffice to indicate the wealth of early history disclosed in “Annals of a New ZeaJ land Family.”

The book, which is an excellent example of the printing and bookbinding art, is published by Messrs A. H. and A. W. Reed, who have done so much to rescue from oblivion manuscripts dealing with pioneer days in New Zealand and to inspire public interest in the history of the Dominion. The edition is limited to 400 copies, so that it will soon be unobtainable.

“THE MAORI SITUATION” There has come from the publishers, Messrs Harry H. Tombs Ltd., Wellington, a valuable book written by Dr. I. L. G. Sutherland, of Victoria College University, Wellington. It is entitled “The Maori Situation” and discusses from a new angle the future of the Maori people, The book is the subject of a leading article in this issue of the “Advocate.” “THE WOMAN’S MIRROR” A fascinating serial commences in, the issue of the “Australian Woman’s Mirror” published this week. It is entitled “Lilith Women” and is by Dorothy Scarborough. Of particular interest to New Zealand readers is an article on the art of Elizabeth Lissaman, the New Zealand pioneer pottery craftswoman.

EARLY WHANGAREI

A PIONEER’S STORY.

ANNALS OF A NEW ZEALAND

FAMILY,

Another valuable addition to the growing library dealing with pioneer days in New Zealand has just issued from the press. It is “Annals of a New Zealand Family,” written by Mrs J. Howard Jackson, of Dunedin, and telling the story of the household of Gilbert Mair, whose name, as is that of his descendants, is intimately associated with the early days of Whangarei. ■

Mrs Jackson was the youngest daughter of Gilbert Mair, and her graphic pen has not only repainted the picture Of Whangarei as it was in the days of her childhood and young womanhood, but has put on record the great part her brothers played in’ the stirring days of conflict between Maori and Pakeha. Apart from being a record which *must be of great interest to the relatives and personal friends of the Mair family, it should, as the Hon. W. Downie Stewart says in a foreword, he of value to the growing number of readres who are interested in the early days of New Zealand. Gilbert Mair came to the Bay of Islands on .his. first visit in 1821, and many interesting details relating to the personal adventures and experiences of himself and his family are collected and woven into' a chatty narrative.

In the course of the story, references are made to many famous personages of the pioneering days who assisted in establishing the foundation of British settlement. Among them may be mentioned the Rev; Samuel Marsden, Bishop Selwyn, Archdeacon Henry Wilson, Governor - Hobson and Sir George Grey.

One of the most fascinating chapters deals with the long and distinguished military career of Captain Gilbert Mair, who won the , New Zealand Cr«sss, which ranks next to the Victoria Cross. 1

Memories, of Marsden.

The writer, who was Miss Laura Lavinia Mair, relates that her parents, after being married by the Rev. Samuel Marsden in Sydney, went to Raima. “There they lived for five years,* when they moved, in 1832, to Wahapu, also in the Bay Of Islands. In Mamden’s frequent visits he was often at their home, I well remember my mother felling me that he arrived one day, footsore and weary, after a tiring journey. She gave him refreshment and he lay down to rest on the sittingroom sofa. She covered him with a plaid, my sister and f brother, of 9 and 7 years, helping her, and saying ‘We will tuck up his'feet and make him comfy.’ That was in 1837. He was always a staunch friend and adviser, and the name of Marsden was h household tvbrd.” Trees and Their Tragedy. Mrs Jackson makes some interesting comments upon trees. In 1839 hermother had a box of Norfolk pines given to her by Captain Macdonald, of Norfolk Island. One which she planted at Wahapu grew into a very handsome tree. Many years later, a visiting man-of-war, needing a spar, sent a party ashore to search for one. They cut the top off this beautiful tree and then discarded it as being unsuitable for their purpose, leaving it on the beach, an eyesore to all lovers of trees. The destruction of the Shortland Street oak in Whangarei is responsible for some biting criticism. “When my people moved to ‘Deveron,’ -in Whangarei, in 1842, my mother planted an oak given to her by Governor Hobson. The acorn was from the famous Queen’s Oak in Windsor Forest. It grew into a magnificent tree, quite the finest in New Zealand. In March, 1934* it was cut down to make room for a building—an act of unpardonable vandalism. We have few enough old memorials in New Zealand.” Flight From Whangarei. A stirring story is told of happenings in Whangarei in 1845,. during the Heke war.! It had been rumoured that, in revenge for the death of a chief at the Bay of Islands, during the disturbances there, a party of natives were coming to Whangarei to kill Mr Mair, as he was one of the oldest settlers. Whangarei natives assembled to protect the home, and it was arranged that if the war party were discovered three shots would be fired as a warning. Mr Mair made arrangements with the captain of a six-ton cutter lying in the harbour to take the settlers to Auckland for safety. “As we were sitting at a very disorganised tea, we heard the dreaded shots, and simultaneously dark faces appeared around the doors and windows and urged us, by words and gestures, to fly. We rushed to drag the children out of bed, wrapped them in blankets, and went out into the darkness. My mother followed with her two months old baby—her ninth—in her arms. The natives crowded around us, and partly led and partly carried us down to the riverside where a number of their canoes were moored. (This was the spot at the point where Deveron Street opens on the Hatea River). . . . Down the river we silently rowed, passing the residences of the settlers. We landed at Mr John Carruth’s, and my father bade me run up