AUCKLAND'S HISTORIC PARK.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XLIII, Issue 13355, 8 December 1906, Page 1 (Supplement)

AUCKLAND'S HISTORIC PARK.

BY PE-VSTL VAMA. The place commands, in my opinion, a most perfect view.—W. S. LAN'DOR.

Mountains have this -in common with , mankind, that like individual men they j have their history, and in some signal, ! self-assertive instances they make it. ' Some, burning with eruptive fever, have , desolated cities in their fiery flow and i others still vaster and more isolated have | dwelt apart, scorning admiration, yet drawing to their icy bosoms those foolish ! and adventurous sons of men whose tombs I are glacial and unknown.

Some are celebrated for excessive altitude, ■ some for far extending ranges, and some, more modest, less commanding, for their exceeding loveliness- New, Zealand embraces all, an exquisite variety of peaks and cones dominating on every hand her inland and her coastal towns. The Canterbury Plains, companioned by the South-

era Alps, and Taupo, our *' great inland sea," lying at the feet of Ruapehu and her fearsome sisters, set off in high and white relief those miracles of icy and volcanic grandeur. But perhaps nowhere in mountain high or low is beauty pure and simple so bewitchingly set" forth, or so alluringly displayed, as on ancient Maungakiekie, once "One-tree Hill," and now by deed of gift and graceful compliment to be known henceforth as Cornwall Park.

-Whether it be approached from Market Road, through the lodge-gates from Onehunga highway, o. at the main entrance, dignified by the statue of Sir John Logan Campbell, the generous donor of this inalienable possession, the mountain sweeping up by diverse paths, through charming avenues, "takes the eye with beauty." If the tourist make his gradual ascent through the pleached pine alley, interspersed by glossy-leaved and rosyblossomed trees of generous growth, lovely peeps of field and woodland, overarched by cloudless blue, will greet him everywhere if he make his visit in the summer ; while should he happen on a wintry day the barer branches will afford still finer glimpses of the great beyond.

This lovely park is quite unlike any other in New Zealand. Nowhere else are there such gently sloping uplands, such aged trees, or such inviting turf. One of its most striking features is the majestic pohutukawa standing like a cordoned monarch in the centre of a lawnlike sweep. At this point the eye, enthralled and fascinated, takes its fill of gazing. There, on the dim horizon sky and ocean meet; here, all imaginable hues are blended in the foreground; and there, on the western slope, not far below, the grey green of the olive gardens, rich in innumerable trees, mingle ;-softly 'with- the whole. Wind-torn and twisted, a forest in themselves, they lend a'charm that is unspeakablethe witchery of strange and foreign things. ... ; But there is much to see ; so, though the afternoon be young, we make a hasty visit to the kiosk, and leave it for the celebrated golf links, where fair women and brave men are wont to meet in amiable warfare. The red roof of the clubhouse makes a cheerful bit of colour,, aud leads the eye over- picturesquely dotted fields aud intersecting ways. The Home for the Aged Poor nestles comfortably below our van-tage-point,: and not far. away, on,' a comain aijding'»'-knolj/. ; the Veterans' Homo is j 'easily descried. . Yonder in the westering ! sun lies Waitakerei, with its forest ranges and its peerless waterfall. Skirting tho ground devoted to the noble game,' we ' gain a point some distance from the top, ! but of sufficient height to chain our foot- ' steps and hold us in suspense, for here be- : fore us lies a glorious survey. • What an amphitheatre! What an inimitable playground for the laughter-loving Greek! ! At no point, perhaps, could Auckland's ! right to be called " the Corinth of the South" be so fitly illustrated. At any I rate, the following from Wordsworth's " Greece'' appears to justify - the ,■•-title claimed for it in years gone.by by Lady :—"The situation of Corinth is one of the most charming that can be imagined, surrounded as it is by the beauties of nature and the charm of poetic and historical associations. A little to the south rises the magnificent hill which served as the citadel of the citythe Acrocorinthus, nearly 1900 ft high. 1 . . . , (This fault in the analogy, our lovely bill rising little over 500 ft, may well be overlooked, so closely similar is the portrayal.) "Beneath is the isthmus dividing the two celebrated seas, which we could trace from Parnassus oil the one extremity to Cape Sunium on the other, with the islands of Salamis and iEgina in the distance;' while behind lie the mountains of tho Morea, like the waves of a troubled sea, extending in interminable succession as far as the eye can reach.".

But the thought of dividing centuries, differing race and history recall, to a past not long remote, the Maori who once held .lordly rights over this exquisite domain— first one tribe and then anotheras lust of war or love of conquest fired his horde this must have been a scene of triumph, a place of warriors' joy. For here they shook the spear and danced defiance ; here they held the mournful tangi, or carved with mystic ceremony those lines and flourishes which proclaimed them rivals of the Druids for endurance; and here the hills flung back the scornful challenge or the crooning chant.

As we ascend the hill, and the mighty sweep of distant ocean courts our gaze, lake and woodland wooing with bewildering charm, it is impossible to conjure the wilderness that once existed or to imagine that these verdant slopes were ever reddened with the blood ,of battle. Beauty, of a wonderfully tender, exquisitely pastoral charm, forbids it, and the -mind, is irresistibly carried to the Isles of Greece. The beautifully-curving hill, the site so titled for the pillared temple, the citadel with which it may in time be crowned, contribute to illusion, and perhaps the memory of a favourite conversation of that fine old Nestor, Walter Savage Landor. Some of the aptest bits imaginable tempt and justify quotation:— Sosimenes is spending large sums of money on an olive ground . . . and has uprooted some hundreds. . ... I shall cover the rougher part of the hill with them. . . The ground rises gradually until near the summit, where it grows somewhat sleep. . . . ' From this there will be paths circuitous and spiral, leading by the easiest ascent to the summit." To the philosopher, to his pupils as they walk, and surely among that group of girls on Maungakiekie there may be a Leon tin i or Ternissa teachable enough to learn from that grey-haired companion—though it be not of philosophv or statues that he is discoursingpossibly the best way to win a foursome! Or he mav be describing One-tree Hill (lapsus penn?e), and saving, " The lower extremities of it. are divided into small ridges, as you will perceive if you look .around, and these are covered with olives." Quaintly enough comes the inquirv of tile youthful pupil, " Where will you place the statues,-for undoubtedlv you must have some?" And by and by the wise man tells her that neither the higher arts nor the civic virtues can flourish without the statues of illustrious men.

Let us while we linger follow* up the fancy started, for all through the " Conversation" quoted it is impossible to leave unnoted the curious resemblance between the place of the Greek philosopher's discourse and the beautiful resort provided for the dwellers in this Southern Corinth. And.' still imagining, hear him tell of the wisdom of Sosimenes :—•'" There is* **• infinity of other plants and flowers i of which Ik ha* cleared Ibis olive yard, and • u - ,| »*l> 1 s.Wul\ a"aj.-«mU- af his

I slaves came in yesterday laden with hva- ! cintb«, anemones, and* jonquils. 'The curses of our vineyards,' cried he, ' good neither foi: man nor beast. I have another estate infested with lilies of the valley. I should not wonder if you accepted them, too!'' And 'With thanhs,' answered I. . . . I could not resist my inclination to smile. ... He observed it, and he said: " Epicurus, you have been throwing away no less than half a talent on this sony piece of mountain, and I fear you are "about to waste as much 'n labour. What, in the name of all the deities, could induce you to plant those roots which other people dig up and throw away?' 'I have been doing, said I, 'the same thing all my life. Sosimenes. 'How?' cried he; "I never krifew.that.' 'Those very doctrines/ added I, 'which others hate and extirpate I inculcate and cherish. They bring no riches, and therefore are thought to bring no advantage ; to me they appear the more advantageous for that reason. We toil for the wealth first, and then it remains to be proved whether we can purchase with it what we look for.' 'These roots.' he answered, * may perhaps be good and salable for some' purpose. Shall you send them into Persia, or. whither?" " ' I shall make love potions or the flowers.' "

But though the scenes and shades in Cornwall Park invite to classic contemplation the day is passing. Let us carry something from the mountain and depart, to come again and see the multitude at play— people for whom this pleasaunce was designed. Let the individual lesson learned within its precincts be multiplied a thousand by a thousand times. For tlse Prince whose visit it commemorates and the philosopher of ninety whose munificence it tells—to the youth at play within its shadow—its message stands, "The heart must have a little garden of its own, with its umbrage and fountains and perennial flowers—a careless company." To the civic conscience and the individual heart it must for ever speak, this gift surrounded by romance, charged with history, so delightful and unique.