MRS ELLIS ROWAN'S VISIT TO TARANAKI.

Taranaki Herald, Volume XLIII, Issue 9957, 19 March 1894, Page 2

MRS ELLIS ROWAN'S VISIT TO TARANAKI.

OLD MEMORIES REVIVED. Tin; following very interesting account >y Mra Ellis Rowan of her visit to Taranaki appears in the Town and Country Journal of March 10, and is illustrated with three artistic pictures from that lady's brush. The views are " Mount Egmont from Marsland Hill ; " the Mimi River, Urenui," and " Ferngrove," the residence of Mr Halcombe, Urenui. The following is Mrs Rowan's article :—: — Starting from Wanganui at 3 in the afternoon for New Plymouth we soon left the town behind us, the homesteads became more scattered and the country broken up into fern-covered ridges, with deep gorges, running brooks, tall poplars, and waving willows. Then on past wooded hills, scrubs, rolling downs, and on thraugh swamp and sandhills close along the shore to the country towns of Patea and Hawera, with its rich volcanic soil 10ft. and 12ft. deep. As the sun went down a fresh crisp air blew in upon us through the open windows, and the clear east snowy cap of Mount Egmont came into sight with its perfect cone of 8200 ft towering above us ; no wonder that Taranaki is proud of his mountain and the many never-failing springs fed from its reservoir of eternal snow. This was not my first introduction to it. I had made its acquaintance long ago from the sea, when it was an open roadstead, and we were sent ashore in whaleboats. There was no breakwater then, and the iron horse was unknown here. As the train rushed into New Plymouth at 10 o'clock at night, I strained my eyes through the sea of faces to catch some familiar ones I knew. They were ali there, and only I seemed changed. The little country town had grown into an imposing one, and rows of well-to-do looking shops were everywhere. The fernlands were cleai'ed, and homesteads were dotted about where before we had picnicked and gathered ferns in dense bush. The little river only was the sime, running over its pebbly stones and under the shadows of the great tree ferns, then through the town and the black iron sand to the sea, where the great peaked rocks Ngamotu (the islands) sugar loaves there stand out against the sky, the old and strongest fortress of the Ngatiaroa tribes of long ago. "What tales they could tell of bloodshed and war in its most horrible details. But the day is too bright to thipk of sorrows gone by, and we wander on to the lovely Recreation Grounds, where the old Raupo swamp has been dug out and formed into lakes, now one mass of English water lilies. The terraced banka are cut into pathways, and shady walls of overhanging ferns are everywhere. There is a capital cricket and tennis lawn, and a large pavilion, where the band plays, and behind it all rises the sentinel mountain. Coming homewe climbed up to Marsland Hill, the site of the old barracks, and look down upon the old church and its holy acre, where so many of our brave men lie under the shadow of those great pines. My few days flew by too quickly, but there were other memories to be renewed, and I left one bright morning with Mr Halcombe, and drove out to his farm at Urenui — a splendid road the whole way, and farms as far as the eye could reach. The dairying industry has made rapid strides here, for the warm, moist climate is bo favorable to it. All the crops looked splendid. There is so little frost here that you can eat new potatoes all the year round. Waitara in this way had grown into a large town with its freezing works and small shipping trade. From there on we went through the same rich grass lands, cultivated fields, and browsing sheep and cattle. We turned into the gates of Ferngrove — this pretty homestead — just in time for unch, and I ate my first New Zealand peach and fig, wbicH never tasted better. The tvfternoon was lazily spent in wandering round. What a glorious day it was ; everything danced in sunlight ; the bees buzzed in the thick clover blossoms, and the hum of the summer fly went by with a darting swish. High up from the edge of the hilly ridge where the house stands you look down upon a deep gorge with a cleat running stream, and the bank beyond is a dense mass of toll trees and ferns, with here and there a scarlet mass of rata blossom. • Hills and valleys stretch away into the distance, where the snow guardian of Tarauaki rises in the background. The sea is in front of us, and the long coastline of broken hills and high white cliffs where we had made our first married home at Pukearuke, the British redoubt 36 miles from New Plymouth, commanding the approaches from Mokau and the Waikato. They used to tell us then that we kept the key of New Zealand. Many years after the natives were supposed to be quiet they came down and murdered eight white* settlers. After this these cliffs were held by a garrison of the armed constabulary of New Zealand. Sentries guarded the old redoubt, and the sound of the bugle calls re-echoed again among those thickly-wooded cliffs across ihe stream. How peaceful it all seems. The next day-I started away to revisit the old haunts, but the sad memories were too strong for me. I hadn't the courage to go back and find it all deserted. So we drove to see the old soldiers instead, many of whom are scattered about here, and gave me such a warm welcome. Old Tom Bishop, an old 43rd hero, had his comfortable pension and home, and he picked me all his strawberries, ripe and unripen. and reminded me how I had begged him off from punishment with many others, for " just this once." " Just this once" came very often and oven I remembered the same story of sick grandmothers, who died quite six times in the year, and the pleads for leave to go into town to see thorn. They were all very good to me then, and I hadn't forgotten any of them. Old T. was, he told me, " amacably prosperous now." Many of them wore rich farmers, holelkeepers, and one the large storekeeper at Urenui. Lloyd, an old oneeyed Maori, well-known during the war, stopped to say his greetings, and several others nodded a recognition. We drove ou to Mr H 'a son-iu-law's farm of GOO acres of splendid grass knd. The former owners nad had recourse to a cruel way of clearing it. It was originally all covered with ferns, six and seven feet high ; cattle were turned into it in the spring when they lived ou the young shoots as they came up. In time the constant nibbling destroyed the plants, and the poor animals were left to starve eating at last even the roots. The grass | soon grew after it was sown, but the cattle lay dead in every direction. It was less costly to improve the land in this way than by other means. The last of the harvestii g was finished as we got back, and I went to watch the long row of cows being milked. There are six cadets here learning farming; all of these :it tho present timo young Englishmen, who do tho whole of tho work, rising at ft, when they hive tea and something to eat, thon breakfast at 8, lunch very often in the fields, and dinner at 7. They seem all a very happy household, and Mrs Halcombe, who is a daughter

of William Swainson, the great naturalist, has all the wonderful gift that her father had for drawing, and is one of the most charming and truly noble women I have ever had the happiness and honor of knowing. To know her is to love her. This farm is 101)0 acres in extent, carrying 1000 sheep, 200 head of cattle, and 30 horses. The work is mixed — dairying, pastoral, and agricultural, almost 100 acres being kept under the plough for turnips, oats, carrots, and other crops. We had the excitement one night of a slight shock of earthquake. The morning after I drove to Waitara to catch the 4 o'clock train, which did not go until 9 o'clock. The two hotels were crowded with natives, finishing up the excitement of a day's racing; so my driver took me to Mrs H 's store, where she kindly gave me some tea with the family. Then we went fishing with lines in the river. After an hour one minnow was caught, and my presence seemed to cast such a hushed silence on the two young men who were out for the evening with us that I moved away, and wandering up on to the hill overlooking the town, I came upon a Maori pah, where one of the women recognised me, and there was a general tangi (cry) all round over me. I shook hands with them all, and they told me I must go to Te Whiti's (their prophet's) great meeting at the nation's settlement, where all the old natives would remember my husband, and the time he was so badly wounded during the war. I was just in time to catch my train when I got back, but no one being there to taka me to the station a man was hailing from the road, " Here, you take this lady to the station," which, without further questioning he kindly did, and I wished my kindly hostess good night. It was at Waitara that the first of the fighting in Taranaki took place. In 1855 the settlers petitioned the Government for military protection, for the defence of the settlement. Hordes of natives were coming from all quarters to drive the pakeha into the sea, and a Maori, called Wiremu Kingi, refused to allow the lands (which the Government had bought) to be surveyed. Under this chief they erected a strong pah across the road. He was given 24 hours to apologise. His answer was he did not want to fight, but to remain good friends if the survey was relinquished. A proclamation was then issued, saying that should hostilities arise settlers were advised to come into town for the safety of their families They then moved in, and the little town of New Plymouth was filled with fugitives and their effects. During the following nights a pah had been built by the natives across the principal street in the town. Later another was erected on Government land, with double palisading, ditch, and galleries, and a letter was then sent to the natives ordering them off the Queen's land, and warning them not to refuse. This pah was destroyed by our men, when a great fight took place. They then commenced murdering the settlers, and a long cruel war of nine years lasted, when at different times the following regiments were in command : 65, 67, 57, 70, 12, 64, 40. 14, 58, and 43. Imperial troops were withdrawn in 1869. With the death of Mr Whiteley, the missionrry, at the massacre at the White Cliffs, the war ceased. He had labored for so many years among the Maoris, loving the country and people, and had given his strong life up to serve this dusky race. As he approached the outpost Pukearuhe (Fern Root Hill) unmindful of danger, voices were heard call:ng out "Nokia, Nokia, go back, go back." Then there was a discharge of guns ; his horse fell from under him. Another discharge and his body was pierced with bullets. The murderers were never punished. The natives on my marriage presented me with two very handsome rings. Ididnot know until many years after that one had belonged to Wetere, the chief who had led his men on to commit the murders. By many this sudden outbreak was looked upon as the commencement of another war, and many settlers left the province. But gradually a sense of security was restored, and the excitement of war was over. The reveille was no longer sounded at daybreak at Marsland Hill. The night pickets could leave their posts for theii own firesides. No longer the alarm called all men to face the foe, or the unutterably mournful strains of the " Dead March" sounded over the brave men who fell.