FIFTY YEARS AGO

Pukekohe & Waiuku Times, Volume 1, Issue 52, 17 December 1912, Page 1

FIFTY YEARS AGO

SOME EARLY RECOLLECTIONS. THE OLD DAYS REVIVED. [BY B. A. CRISPE.I

[This series of articles was kindly written, especially for the "Times," by Mrs H. Crispe, of Mauku. Our lady contributor was amongst those" women pioneers through whose courage and self-sacrifice the people of this district to-day enjoy their peace and prosperity.— Ed.l

A Terrible Morning's Adventure in 1863. ;.■ Archie' and I were i> y father died when Archie was 10 and 1 18 years old. Two yc-rs later, we lost our mother, who, with her latest breath, besought me to take care of her darilnsr boy, which solemn charge J faithfully endeavoured to fulfil. When Arcfiie was 21, hj; expre?sed a siiong c!< si;e to »joto New Zealand, where some of.ou? frien-is had previously emigiatfd. Having no part - cular ties in England, we decided to come to tiiis Colony, where we arn'veti at the end of 1862 Aucklard was our de&tination, where we soon f ;>und that the people's miritis were disturbed by the threatening attituda oftheMaoiis. A.few months after our arrival an old friend ot our father's (hearing we were in Auckland) called to «ee u», and inyifcd Archie and myself to pay him and his wife a visit at his country home. 25 miles from the tiwn, which invitation we gladly {.ciepted as it would give us an opportunity of seeing the country. Major Millar was a retired military officer. I remembered seeing him at our father's house when Iwas a child. He promised to call "f>r us in thiee day*. Arehh was in high glee, as Major Millar had promised bifn -wild (luck, pi s eon and pig shooting. Bis gun was cleaned and a supply of ammunition got ready. There was no railways in those dajs, so Major Millar called for us, driving a trap and two horses. It was my first experience of travelling in such a vehicle, and the sensation was novel if not quite comfortable, especially when we joited over rutty roads, aid down steep incline*. Once or twicd I could hsrdlv suppress a scream when the road appeared a little worse than usual. Still it was very enjoyable to both Archie and myself, who had not been bo far into the country before. Major Millar hal entertained us by recounting his experiences in the Colony, its ways and custcms of the "Do ytu think the.e will be a war?" enquired Archie. "No," replied the Major, "the newspapers are always n.vGntiag some cock-and-bull stories that thv. Maoris are buying gurs and ammunition and are going to ri;e and kill all the white people, but 1 never leheve a word of it " Major Millar was one of those who would not belitve there was any danger ftom the Maoris, and, though Archh and I were not aware of it, outlying settlers were then leaving their hemes. "You're tired, Miss Graham," said Major Millar. "1 am, rather," 1 replied. "Ten minutes will lake un home when we get out of this bu*h. r he horses nus pricked up their cats and trotted merrily along.

With a sudden turn we emerged fiom the bush a"d came in view of the Major's home, ihe house was built on a rise wittTa garden in front and a shrubbery below the garden, and come little distance in the background siood the native hush of this country—the dark greeo puriri and karaka, while the lighter colour of the nikau, fern-trees and graceful bending young rimus stood out in told reilef. Ihe sun was declining ai we entiled the gats 1 ading into the house, and a beautiful golden light flickered m and about the house and trees, reminding one of the enchanted castles described in fairy tales. A passing cloud obscured (he aun, and suddenly, as if ty msgic, the whole surroundings turned into a silver glow more beautiful than the former. Then the sun disappeared behind the hills and tho sky presented a s ries ot dissolving views-castles, ships and animals of fantastic shapes and colours ppprared in rapjd succession in the enchanted sky. ' Never shall I forget that lovely acene; but, ah me, the memory of it is saddened by thi after events. In a few minutfs we pulled up at a wicket entering the Bhtubbery, and 1 was startled out of my reveries by a prolonged "coo-ee" from Major Millar. In a few minutes, a young girl came out of the house and through the garden to meet us, whom the Major introduced to its as his eldest daughter. "Well, Nell, my girl, here we are safe and sound, but tired and qungry. Are you all well?" "Y s, papa," said Nelly, r as she helped me with my bag acd wraps. "Well, take Miss Graham inside, eh.'s tired after her shaking." I accompanied Nelly, while Aichie went round to the back with Major Miliar fo help him unharness and feed the weary horses. Nelly appeared a bright, plej?ant sirl chatting gaily as we walked to the house, where she intioduced me to her mother and a younger sister,

Jersle. Ms Millar wdcomed mz kindlv- to k me to my room and helped me off with my wraps, talkpsg to me as if sha had known me all her life,'i lea will be rearh directly, she said, eo coma and iit;on ;the end rest yourself. Nelly pc on sniounced tea a d led i me into the dining-room, wheie I was intvo.iuced tn my host's elcest son, a fine young man about Archie's age, and a jounger brother-a lad of 14 with the two girls before-mentioned comprised the family. We sat down to a famous tea of heme-mpr'e bread and butter and roasi wild pigeons. Archie alieady teemed quite at home among this genial family. "Well, boys, and bow have you got on this week?" asked Msj'ir Millar, cheerily. • "All riwht, father," said Harry. "I finished idounhing the 20 ace paddock and Ted burnt the ftrn off the hills, and we have begun to stump the clearing." "That's good, my boy. We'll soon conquer the toil at that rate " 'i. And, papa," said Jessie, "Strawberry ha* got a spotted calf, snd it can drink without the finger plre^dy"—at which there was a gene.al smile. "And, Teddy, what have you done besides burning the fern hills?" "Shot pigeons and ducks, papa," he said, reddening a Httle. "This, Miss Graham," said Major Millar, poin'.ing to Harry "is my riult-hand man on the farm. Nelly helps her mother, Jessie fetds the calves and poultry, and Teddy—well he spends a god lit cf bis time watching tha volunteers drill, making miniature cannon and shooting wild ducks end pigeon*. I don't "krow what we'll make of him " ;-I •» "Not a farmer, paps," said the boy stoutly. "I'd rather be a soldier a'd fight the Maoris." ' B "Don't say that, Ted." asid his mother "I hope no: e of my sens will ever fight the Maoris." "But they deserve to be thrashed, mother, for murdering women and children like they did at Taranaki, and if I was a man' I'd ioin the volunteers to-moirow," said tr e boy,

with flashing eves. "1 was talking to some of the men who are building the ledoutt near the village to-day, father," said Harry, "and they told me that tie Waikato tribea are rising, and it *ould not be safe to stay hire long. Did jou hear anything of it in town?" "Yes, 1 saw someihing about it in the paptrs, but ti:ey are always ge'ting hold of some trumpery skry and (leading it 'reliable information.' " "I hope it is only 'trumpery stories,' " remarked Mrs Millar. "Are there many Maoris near here?" inquired Archie. "Yes." replied the Major, "bat they are 'friendly' Maoris, and would rather protect than harm us. But there.he added, a little impatiently, "we are making Miss Graham nervous. She looks pale. Gome girls, clear away'the things and let ua have some music and charm away these doleful stories." Tiius employed, the evening passed quickly and pleasantly away. The next two days were spent agreeably in walks, gathering ferns in the bush with Jessie and watching her feed her numerous family of calves and fowls, while Archie amused himself shooting and gettirg an insight into farm l.fe from Harry. The third day of our stay Hairy, Archie, Neliy and 1 rode some distance to see the famous "Witches Falls", so callei from the peculiar surrounding rocks, which from one point of view showed the profiles of three scraggy old women with hooked noses and Lony arms, reminding one of the piciures of .Macbeth'B witches. We halted for a few minutes on our way back to admire the view. The windiag paih led to a valley, below, the sides of the hills were covered wi'h fern trees, and here and there you caught a glimpse of the river below. The sun stione with dazzling brightness. A black cloud momentarily obscured tie sun and where everything before was bright, now it was dark and sombre, as if foreshadowing evil. We saw six Maoris stealthily, I thought, apprcaching. Harry called out tenakoe (how do you do), une or two looked surlily up and nodded but spoke no word, whilst the others

never lifted their beads. 1 thcugbt them the most ill-looking fellows I had seen. Involuntarily glancing over my shoulder l saw one of tlum had turned, s too, aud was eyeing Harry with a diabolical scowl, which made my flesh creep "Cold, Miss Graham " said Harry, who had not noticed the nrn. "No," I repled, "it wss the terrible took that feltow gavi you made me shiver." "Yes, t. ey do look surly lately, but those ate the 'friendly' ua'ives." " i hey do ,'t look so,'' I answered, trying to smile, but all my pleasure WkS f on. That terrible look haunted me all the rest of the way and through the evening. Being my first tide I w2s til el and begged ea:-ly to be extu.ed, but I could not rest till tejt morning when I dropped off into a troubled sleep and woke with a s art—that ever-pie ent face on my mil d. 1 pot up ind looked out. It was just d ybreak, but what a sight met my eye. Through the grey miit I could discern a number if iiark figures iti the shrubbery, steal hily, silently, gliding from tree to tee, each time gifting nearer tl:e h(>use. For a moment I was paralysed with fea', for I knew they were Maoris come to attack U3. Feeling that our live 3 d'pende 1 on my piouit.it93 I quickly r.covered ray self-possession Archie occupid an adjoining loom. Irani). Stooping by his pillow 1 cried softly: "Archi , Archie, wake up We are surrounded by Mao is!' Me woke in tantly. "No sound," he vhispered, "while J call the others " In a few minutes we were all assembled in the dining-room, Major Millar g'ving d recliona in an urdertone. "Get every aun and all the ammunitioi you can find, Harry. Archie and leddy, >ou help to load if require! Mother, girls, Miss Graham, get soma warm clothing, you may to run to the bush for it if we can't keep the villains at bat-. If we can only hold out an hojr, help will coire from th? men at the redoubt, as soon as they hear shot*. Don't waste povder toys, only fire if you see anything to fire at." 'I he doors were iccureiy barred. W'! protected ours Ives a* well a3 w? could ithind a*tM a of furnituro. Jtssie crouched in a corner behird the piano ami 1 sat beside her, Archie kreelirg near me, gun in hand. Not being able to tell whether our movements had teen hi ad outside or not —deathly stillne s prevailei —we waited for we knew not what T;n minutes may have elapsed. It seem d hours to me. All the events of my life wre reviewed in that elicit time, whei ny thoughts were broken by Major Millar spying: "Harry, ge. my sworci, it might " Before he could finish tl e set te.tce, "bang, 08Dg" cama a volley of flints on the roof. "Toahigh," brealhed the Major. Again, all was silence Bang! Another volley. S ill too high. Then came straggling thots-one—-two—balf-a-dozeu at a tlmr. Now a tremen^oui crai-h and several paces of glass were broken, f lluwed by a yell of triumph from he fiendi cut--1 side. Hastily a tig i»ble was turned sideways in front of ihe brrkrri ' window and Major Milhr, Harry and Teddy kept behind it. Something impelled me to -taid up, ard looking out through the window 1 raw tne self - earni savage . who had so frightened me, standing on the gra.'s plot, violently gesticultiig. "Aichie," I cii d, "(here he is trying to make the others ! come on." Archie jumptd, ran to the window, took deliberate aim though the broken window, a::d b-fore I heard the report of his gun the fellow was lying on the ground in his death agonies. This was the first shot that had fired by cur l.ttle party. Yelh of rage were row utteied trom our in mks without, who redoubled their volliyp. Harry and the others n.w ised the broken panes as loopholes an) fired when they saw a chance, but the Maoris were shy about earning into the open ar.d firtd from behind lives and shrubs, ieddy was recki ss in his excitement, ar>d it was as much as his father could do to keep him batk Still none of us had been hurt, "Let's give them a volley, lads." said the Major, which was quickly done. A y:ll of pain and rage followed, and we knew som? were hit. "Again boys, again, that's frightened tr.e cowards," and again our little hand fired. The next moment Archie stagg; red back and fell down heside me—blood streaming from his side. Tearing off my skir', I tried to stay the flow of blood. Oh, th agony of it ti sec my poor brother sauck down like that. My*te,n almost blinded me. "Don't cry Mr.ggie," :aid Archie, ieebly,"it d;e:n': hurt me much/' Brushing away my ta-tts I got up from his side tn try ard find something tu sound him, hitdle-jj of the bullet.-, that whizzed about. I saw Harry fall back with a dull, sickening thud. With a cry of rage at s.eing his belrved sn sho', Maj ,r Millar s. ized hi) sword, opened thed. or and rushed out brandishing bis weapon aloit, closely fcllew.d by Teddy with his gun. "Come on, kds, c>.me on," shouted ! the Major, in h;s ixritemett, thinking lie v«as l;a'.li..g a regiment. ilu Maoris turn, cl tail and fled, thinking hi must nave rarty behind nim to rush out in that courageous manner, that moment a detachment from the red..ubt sushed up. Having l.e.nd iho shots they conduced that th- Major's bouse was being att.cked. They pursued the flying wittches into the bush, killing a i few, while the rest escaped into the i dmse bush. i Oh, what a scene of desolation ! that house pieser.te;:. In the dining- | room Harry lay dead where he fell. j Jessie had a shattered arm and | Arci ie, my poor darling, murdered I bother, only lived two (lays. i , ! iam an old woman now aid my hhir i.; grey, out never shall I forget that terrible morning's t.dventute and its direful consequences. Lven now when I tee a brilliant sunsit 1 am rcmindiedof my tint evening in the country, ai d my thoughts are saddened by the memories of that awful morning in 1863.

Well n : gh 50 yea s lave p-csei since t e eve:.ii above cLite.i happened, an J Maori *&r. in New ' Z aland, hapcilv, ar; ti:in v s '■' th' psst. Ke • comers and i nr r-wn y; ung recple, to, have liUie i»aof wh t peiil us times tha old seltLn went through in f e earli r <;ayj of t ! .e now prtpcrouj Dominion, sith its ac'.vanceo state of civilisation. When 1 muse net the past and the wonderful strides that have fatten place, I could almost believed it happ ned in amther life. To think that cur little New Z-aland should row De prosperous enough to offer two Dreadnoughts to our Mother'-CtU'itry and cat aerial locomotion is now an accomplished ia't These would have been considered the wildest of dreams n 1863.