THE “OLD COLONISTS’ MUSEUM.” AUCKLAND.

Otago Witness, Issue 3774, 13 July 1926, Page 7

THE “OLD COLONISTS’ MUSEUM.” AUCKLAND.

By

A. W.

That is wliat they call it up in Auckland, but it is just the equivalent, of course, of our owu Early Settlers, and, like the Otago collection, it is housed in the same building as the Art Gallery. But the Auckland Museum has an advantage over any other in that the earliest settlement and the first seat of Government were in these regions, and among the Auckland relics are things pertaining to the beginnings of the colony as a whole. Some of the exhibits date back more than a century—to the time when Samuel Marsden brought out his little band pf missionaries to the Bay of Islands in 1814. Against one wall is the chair—a small wooden chair, with a seat of leather—in which Airs King, wife of one of the catechists, was lowered over the side of the vessel by which she arrived. and in some of the cases are other quaint relics of those early days, such as a couple of tinder boxes, an oldfashioned bed warmer, slates—one with numbers printed on it—used in the mission schools, and other things. A tool box like a double knifebox, with a handle in the middle, was made in New Zealand, and used in the building of one of the first houses. Over in another case are two examples of a different kind of work —a shirt and a clerical tie made by two daughters of Mrs King, whom I have mentioned, and the evenness of the work must be seen to be believed. One wonders how human fingers, and still more how* human eyesight, could accomplish anything so fine. In a neighbouring case is an assortment of military relics. Strange irony that the nation which came to preach peace to the Maoris, aud did in the end bring them peace, should also have shown them the use of weapons so much more deadly than their own weapons, which were in time turned against the pakehas themselves. Here are examples of different types of rifles used in the wars of the sixties, and rusty pistols and other relics dug up on old battlefields. The notes attached to some of the exhibits give an insight into life as it was for the citizens of Auckland in those days, such a• that on the gun purchased by one William Rattray in order that he might be entitled to serve in the “ Inlying picket.” “In IBC2, at the time of the Maori war,” says the card, “all ablebodied men between 17 and 60 ' were compelled to enrol in the militia, with the exception of those who were volunteers and married men over 40 years of age. The if they provided their owm guns and ammunition, were permitted to enrol in the Inlying Picket, whose duty it was to patrol the town, and who were not compelled to go beyond it. ,

Some things that we do not see now are the old-fashioned powder horns, some of them beautifully carved and ornamented. One cf them in particular, the property of E. M‘Kerma, of the 58th egiment, is wonderfully worked, the designs including a copy of the regimental coat-of-arms and a symbolic female figure of majectic appearance rather marred by a slight squint. There are collections, too, of buttons and badges of the different British regiments which served in New Zealand, and also a few medals and decorations. One of particular interest is the Victoria Cross awarded to Major Charles Ileaphy, of the New Zealand Volunteers, for it was the first cross awarded outside the ranks of the regular army, and it is said that special legislation had to be passed by the Imperial Parliament before it could be granted. The incident took place during the fighting in the Waikato, when Captain' Ileaphy, as ho then was, went to the assistance of a wounded man, and, though badly wounded himself, succeeded in succouring him. Ileaphy was a surveyor, who arrived in the colony before 1840, and there is no important New Zealand historical collection that does "hot include examples of his fine pen-and-ink and pencil eketches. Amongst a number of relics of the early davs pf the Government are the rather interesting exhibits in the shape of the seals used when New Zealand was considered as two separate inlands,- New Ulster and New Munster. The main design of both seals was the same, but that for New Ulster (the North Island) showed in the centre a Maori sailing canoe passing along the coast under the ehelter of, presumably, Mount Egmont, while the New Munster seal had a spirited representation of a whaleboat in action with the parent ship in the background. In the adjoining room are cases filled with documents of various kinds, and round the walls numbers of maps and plane showing the City of Auckland in

various stages of growth. These are of interest principally to Aucklanders, of course, though even those who have only seen pictures of the “Queen City” would be amused at some of the earliest view 6, such as one of Queen street when it consisted of a few houses, a couple of inns, and the courthouse, with the stocks displayed prominently in front as a warning to evildoers. Here are all sorts of curious odds and ends —tradesmen’s coupons used during the financial 6tringen:/ of 1845, when money was scarce and the tradesmen gave these coupons instead of change; samples of Governor Fitzro' r ’s paper money, issued at the same time, this taking the form of debentures for sums ranging from 5s to £SO, bearing interest at 5 per cent.-; original title deeds to various pieces of property in the city and province; old business documents of one kind and another. Here again is evidence of the war times in the form of military passes, written often on odd scraps of paper, entitling the bearers to go through the lines, or a description of a deserter who had escaped from a British regiment, or a summons to a militia man to report for duty at the barracks. Of another kind is an imposing-looking document headed with the British coat-of-ai;ms, this being a passport issued by Lord Augustus Loftus. British Ambassador at Vienna in 1860. to Hemare Rerehau, a native of New Zealand, on his way to England. Who was this same Hemare, or Samuel, one wonders, and what was he doing in Vienna at that time? A somewhat gruesome relic is the actual first death, warrant evei signed in New Zealand, a document giving directions for the execution of a Maori named Maketu, convicted of murdering a settler and his family at the Bay of Islands. There had been killings in plenty before that, of course, both by Maoris and by Europeans, but this was the first occasion after the establishment of responsible government that the murderer was duly tried and executed. There is a touch of humour, how--1 ever, nearby, when we compare the modest inventory of the Post Office in July, 1841, with the requirements of the great building of the present time, with its wide steps up which innumerable feet tread daily. The Post Office of the old days boasted, amongst other things, of two inkstands, one penknife, one piece of indiarubber, one ruler, and lib each of black wax and red, but it ran to as many as 4J bottles of ink and 150 quills! ’‘From a Post Office one turns to letters, and there is a whole case here of personal letters, most of them with typewritten copies attacked for the benefit of the casual visitor, for the ink in many cases is faded, and the letters are on thin paper and “crossed” in the old-fashioned way. Til ere are short notes from Bishop Selwyn and Bishop Patteson, of Melanesia, and from some of the early Governors and other officials, though amongst the most interesting are the longer gossipy letters such as those of Mrs Mathew, whose husband was at one time Surveyor-general of New Zealand. In one she describes the consecration of that same Bishop Patteson at which she was present, and 'in another, written from England some years later, she gives news of old colonists at Home, and in return is very anxious for news from Auckland—how its buildings are progressing, and what the people are doing and how they amuse themselves. No doubt the good lady would be rather surprised if she could be set down in the middle of Auckland city to-day. Another letter, from the Rev. W. Lawry, a Wesleyan missionary, written in 1844 to relatives in England, gives an account of a journey on foot through some parte of the province. The writer seemed to be quite discouraged by the difficulties he encountered and by the wild nature of the country, “mountain piled on mountain,” as he puts it, and he concluded with a pregnant paragraph which this generation might do well to remember. “New Zealand will one day become a fine spot—i.e„ there will be fine spots in it for English emigrants, but one generation must pass away, first, to make roads, try the soils, drain the bogs, fell the ttoods, and spend their fortunes; after which a wise man may come out from England to better himself, but till then he may leave New Zealand iu other hands.” What was to me almost the most interesting exhibit of all I dii.lovered only on my last visit. On one of the side walls, in rather a dark corner, there hangs a small framed photograph of the turning of the first sod qf the Main Trunk railway at Te Awamutu in April, 1885, by the chief Rcwi Maniapoto. “Not Rcwi of Orakau, surely!” Mid I to myself. Yet so it was, as the note attached to the picture testified. All kno*/., I rupnose, the story of Rewi —how be TStthitood the assaults of the British forces in his pa at Orakau. and, when invited to surrender, replied in the historic words, “We fight on” (“Ake! Akel Ake!) —and how in

the darkness lie and the other defenders slipped away, leaving only an empty shell to the conqueror, that they themselves might still live to fight on, “Ake, ake, ake!” j. never knew what had happened in the end to Rewi, one of my childhood’s heroes. I always took it for granted that he had died in battle, gasping out defiance to his enemies with his last breath, and here he was, magnificent in frock coat ami top hat, standing up, tall and dignified, behind the barrow containing the first sod! Although it was some 20 years after the war, it reminded me of Kipling’s line about the English in the Sudan: “They terribly carpet the earth with dead, then ere their cannon cool, They walked unarmed by two and threes to call the living to school!” Only in this case we set the living to opening railways and photograph him with his daughter beside him, and several notabilities of the day standing round in an admiring circle. And why not? On the opposite wall there is a much larger photograph of Sir Joseph Ward driving the last spike, tut the little faded picture of Rewi was much more interesting, to me, at any rate.