BOOK CORNER

Wanganui Chronicle, Volume 73, Issue 370, 13 September 1930, Page 14 (Supplement)

BOOK CORNER

REVIEWS

‘ OLIVER CROMWELL,” by Hilaire Belloc (Benn’s Sixpenny Senes). — this little pamphlet is intensely interesting from two points of view, first, from the viewpoint of the subject; second, from the viewpoint of the author.

It has been said, by G. K. Chesterton, if 1 remember rightly, that an author frequently ‘writes one book which provides the keynote of his attitude towards life. “Great Expectations ’ was Dickens’ outlook. “Sanity Fair” was Thackeray’s. Weft; Hilaire Belloc’s is “The Path to Roma”

Belloc is tremendously conscious of the great contribution of the Romans towards Western civilisation. Protestantism for him is a blight, for it ruined the dowering of Roman culture in Europe. For Belloc to write of Cromwell, is, therefore, worth noticing. Belloc is not a man with a Roman bias. He is more, he is a Roman Catholic/advocate who docsn’t mind painting the picture to suit himself. The historian and' the advocate are ever at war. In this little work of Belloc’s, which is beautifully written, he tells his tale with four main divisions therein. The first comprises Cromwell’s social and religious formation, the second, Cromwell the soldier and the third the character. There are two further chapters on foreign and domestic policy. They are good historic expositions. But from the Bellocian standpoint the first three divisions carry the major interest. In the chapter on the social formation of Cromwell, the walker along the path to Rome shows his contempt and his downright annoyance at those upstarts who benefited by the despoiling of the monastic and ecclesiastical institutions. These nobodys, the Cromwells and the Williams, owned pubs. One of the Cromwells, being a devil of an adventurer, got on so well that his ill-gotten gains had to be marked in some way; so they made him a peer,—this habit had not, of course, died out. A Williams, having married one of the Cromwell girls, the former thought to give themselves a social hoist, and so adopted, without any legal right, the name of Cromweil. To-day the trick is to use the hyphenated jointure. Oliver Cromwell, the subject of the sketch, was really a Williams and he took good care to use it, too. on proper occasion. Business was business then, as now.

Up to now, Belloc delights in rubbing in the commonplace antecedents and mental qualities of Cromwell. But when die author has to deal with the soldier, this is where Belloc lights up. He says of Cromwell, “He possessed a special military genius—a genius with sharp limitations, tactical, not strategic, but none the less genius—which, though it was exercised on only a small field, in but one corner of that Europe wh'-va was everywhere occupied with, much larger affairs of war, would have shone pre-eminent upon any scale of action.” Hence this soldier’s enthusiasm for Cromwell having got well under way he rides not his antipathy any more and so in dealing with the less desirable side of Cromwell’s genius says, “He possessed—developed quite beyond the ordinary; indeed in almost a unique intensity—that quality -which we call hypocracy, cunning, or diplomatic skill, according to whether we desire to blame, ridicule or praise it.” To those who have regarded the Protector as an ideal statesman Belloc delivers a shock which will be good for them. He portrays Cromwell as an or-dinary-minded man who was caught in a tide which carried him on, and from which flood he could not extricate himself. He, doubtless, ivould have done so had he been able to do it. Bui there was no way out. He had to g: on. Cromwell was neither ogre no*, saint. Belloc knocks down both straw men and enjoys the job. But to the soldier Cromwell he writes with an admiring hand. It is, as I have before remarked, a good piece of writing, and if perchance by the favour of Allah you are a Bellocian, you will. I think, enjoy one or two quiet chuckles at the expense of the author. But that’s entre nous. H.C.J. “EARLY DAYS IN WHANGANUI (1840-1850),” by L. J. B. Chapple and i Cranleigh Barton (11. I. Jones and Son, Ltd). —The genesis of the city of Wanganui provides an entrancing segment of New Zealand history. To tell the tale aright, one must go back to New South Wales when it was a convict settlement and the revered character of Dr. Samuel Marsden was turning enquiring eyes to the island whence came lhe occasional Maori. It was the iutelligcnce of the Maori whom he met that intrigued Marsden. “From my first knowledge of these people,” he wrote, “ [ have always considered them the finest, and noblest race of heathens known to the civilised world; and have ever been persuaded that they only wanted an introduction of the arts of civilisation and the knowledge of the Christian religion to make them a great nation.”

Hence it was, at long last, that Marsden accomplished his aim, established the mission in the Bay of Islands and from thence spread the organisation which placed the Reverend William Williams in Poverty Bay and the Reverend John Mason in Putiki—Whanganui while further down this coast at Otaki, the Reverend O. Hadfield was located. Mason, however, was drowned at the mouth of the Turakina River, and it was after his death that the historic figure of the Reverend Richard Tayloientered upon the local scene. ,

Concurrently with Taylor’s ministry European settlement progressed, or rather was attempted. The New Zealand Land Company’s title to land was defective; the Maori were obdurate in retaining their land and in not giving it up. Many of the white population were not too particular and Wanganui had not a good name for the quality of some of its early settlers. These people wcro not sympathetic to Taylor and hfs work but they were the first to cry out for his aid when war parties from uj^-river threatened the settlement. It was Taylor who dissolved the land difli- ( Ui’ty. It was Taylor who travelled and Inught the Maori and who gathered an increasing harvest of conversions. He established schools, composed tribal wars and engendered goodwill in the minds and hearts of the natives. It was the Maori who attended in num bers at the services. It was the pakeha who neglected the divine services. The Maori appear to have, indeed, been a "better community than the whites in more than one respect. The genesis of the city were pendent on the work of Taylor and the church he established. This little book which Messrs. Chapple and Barton have written, presents the story of the early days of our community in pleasing form. It is not over-crowded with detail and is good reading throughout.

| Everyone associated with the city and J the district will find the book a delight* jful little possession. H.C.J. I “YESTERDAYS IN MAORILAND,” by Andreas licischek (Jonaj than Cape). j For twelve years Andreas Reischek | roamed up and down New Zealand, he I searched everywhere for animals, for birds and for insects and ho worked as a taxidermist in all the museums of the country. Consequently one cannot go into' any province nor look upon any range of hills without being reminded that this patient Austrian naturalist had once trod them. He came at the vc’TV best time in our history to observe not only the natural fauna and flora but he came at a time while yet the Maori were clinging to their own primitive culture.

Reischek arrived in 1877, and left Auckland for home on February 20, 1889. We cannot have too many witnesses of that period and wc arc fortunate indeed to have such an excellent observer and such a lucid recorder of his experiences as is this author. Firstly it must not be expected that Reischek came here seeking adventures, he was purposeful in his excursions. But those who know what the West ('oast rivers of the South Island arc like will appreciate the bravery of the man when they read his unadorned tales of his'fording those rivers while they were yet in flood. The Southern Alps. The author’s first work was to arrange the exhibits in lhe Christchurch museum and then he undertook his first expedition into the Southern Alps. He went to the Otira Gorge and while in that district made his first acquaintance with a wild night among gold miners and shepherds. He went on as far as Brunner Lake and spent New Year’s day there, making the acquaintance of an old hermit. The following incident then occurred:— “As wo were sitting by the fire the same evening, two pets came along on a visit, a large brown rat and a woodhen (weka) who enjoyed the hermit’s hospitality every night Rt tea-time. Each could be called by name, and up to now they had always shared supper peacefully together; but to-night things came to a tragic issue. The rat snatched up a piece of fish which the fisherman threw him. The weka, thinking it should have been hers, tried to snatch it away. In the quarrel that ensued the rat ran off; but the weka was just as nimble as he and gave him such a peck on the head that he tumbled over dead.” On the next expedition the author went into the mountains by way of the Rakaia Gorge, Dr. Von Haast, then curator of the Christchurch Museum accompanying him. On this occasion three glaciers were discovered, they being named by Von Haast the Ramson, the Lyell and the Reischek Glaciers. North Auckland. The journey from Lyttelton 1o lhe Kaipara was undertaken by boat and the author had the misfortune to be bar bound outside Kaipara Heads in dirty weather. A good picture is drawn of life in the north in those days and it is interesting to note how the journey to Auckland was made in those days. They went to Helensvillo by boat. A narrow gauge line took us on to Riverhead, where we got a steamer down the Waitemata to Auckland.” There is a forgotten little bit of railway history in that light guagc line. Reischek visited the districts surrounding Auckland including Thames and Coromandel. He also visited the Little Barrier Island for the purpose of searching for the Ti-Orc and was entertained on his leaving the island. This is his description:— “. . .Before I left, Tenatahi, The owner of the island, invited me to a ball in the native runanga. All the inhabitants of the island were present, mostly Maoris, with two Portuguese and two -white girls to represent the

white race. Dance music was provided by a Maori playing waltz, polka, mazurka, and quadrille music on an accordeon. The polyglot chief sang snatches of English, Maori, Portuguese and even German songs, and about midnight wc sat down to a supper of bread, honey and tea.” The author spent some time on other islands off the north cast coast making Whangarci his hcadquart- , ers. The King Country. To present to his readers a proper picture of the conditions prevailing between Pakeha and Maori Rciscnck gives a chapter to the history of their historical contacts. The estimate is fair, the difficulties of the situation are presented and as is to be expected from a disinterested observer he is very sympathetic to the Maori. This i s as it should be and as most of us are today. By the time that Reischek desired

to enter the King Country the Macri appreciating the weakness of ois position and with a heart sore with real grievances locked up the King Country against the Pakeha and resolutely refused to open it. The result of this insularity was that the King Country preserved. unadulterated by the pakeha contact, the culture of the native. Go-

ing down to the borders of the King Country Reischek csablishcd satisfactory friendly relations with King Tawhiao and was eventually permitted to enter the exclusive territory. There he was hospitably treated and he saw ?rd came jnro contact with the Maori where civilisation had hardly reached him. The dcscripitons of the manners and customs of the people arc not unique, the same facts have been frequently recorded elsewhere, bur. the narrative is fresh and the viewpoint always original. Wanganui. Having visited Dusky Sounds and the Southern Alps again Reischek decided to ascend Ruapehu. Hence:— “I betook myself to Wangstnui, which then owed its rapid growth Io its great corn and cattle export. The arrangement of the Museum there kept me busy from March 8 to April 21, 1888, when I got ready for a last expedition, whose principle aim was to climb the highest glacier-crowned peak of the North Island, the mighty volcano Ruapehu. . . .

“I set off early on May 2, a raw, cold dawn of late autumn .... I stopped for breakfast in the village of Kennedy, and followed the path through the Upokongaro Valley.” He crossed the Mangowhcro Stream and reached Mason’s station lato at night, where he was well entertained. Next night he reached the Manotouroa Pa. Two Mjiori women greeted him, the

men being all away at a feast at Putiki.. They fed him and he played his mouth-organ to them. “My playing pleased the chief’s wife so well, that after a short time she snatched away the instrument from my mouth. With great difficulty I induced her to give me back my favourite harmonicon in exchange for one of less value. I was very sorry indeed 1 had begun to play at all. for the woman developed such a talent for music that the whole night through she gave me a concert enough to soften a stone. At the same time it grew bitterly cold in the hut, and the rats held a meeting over ini’* body, so that once again 1 got no sleep. ’ ’

The author left early and arrived at the Maori village of Parapara where the chief Timcta invited him to breakfast anj then on to the junction of the Taiohuru and th. Wangachu. From hero he went to Murimutu where he took his quarters with the storekeeper and made the acquaintance of a well educated Frenchman. Next day they drew water from a clear spring which tasted bitter. “The spring was an alur/ well, and the source of the Wan gachu! ”

The next day Reischek ascended Ruapehu alone and suffered a tumble on the way down. This did not prevent him from having to hear the Maori legend concerning Ruapehu, Tongariro and Taranaki (Egmont) and how in the ructions which caused the expulsion of Taranaki the latter tore up a deep furrow which js now the Wanganui River. Reischek completed his journeying by proceeding to Auckland and it was while so journeying that the Tarawcra Eruption took place. Having completed his wanderings Reischek went home to the banks of the Danube and spent the evening of his days in the place of his childhood dreaming all the while of his Yesterdays in Maoriland. This book should have a ready sale and deserves the popularity which I hope awaits it. Mr H. E. Priday who edited this I translation has carried out his work tastcfullv wisely and well. H.C.J. “THE SINGING' GOLD,” (Holder and Stoughton), by Dorothy Cottrell, is described as being “discovered” by the publishers. They arc to be congratulated on such an achievement. As a first novel a very high standard is attained. As the autobiography of Joan Jcrington-Whatmorc, from her eighth birthday to her second marriage and the honeymoon on the Downs of the Singing Gold, it is a very simple, homely tale most ingeniously told. The reader is compelled to share to ’.ho full the highly imaginative adventures and troubles of Joan’s childhood, the romances and tragedies of her youth, and the more sober enjoyments and the deeper anguish of her womanhood. The book abounds in whimsical humour and a tender, beautiful pathos. Every chapter is suffused with the icdolenco of the wilds of 'Western Queensland. I found myself singing again and again “Matins” from Henry Van Dyke’s “Songs Out of Doors:” ‘‘Flowers rejoice when night is done Lift their heads to greet the sun; •Sweetest looks and odours raise, In a silent hymn of praise. So niy heart would turn away From the darkness to the day; Lying open in God’s sight Like a flower in the light.” Had Joan known those lines I am sure she would have sung them, be cause they so eloquently express what made up days and weeks of her life every year. One could easily outline the salient features of this simple story, and one is greatly tempted to quote from here and there, or to give some idea of the characters so intimately portrayed; but any such course would not be fair in this case. It would be as heinous a crime as betraying the climax of a mystery yarn. This is not a great book, but it is a most readable one full of the actualities of life. H.G.G. “THE BRITTLE SHADOW,” by April Thorn (Mills and Boon). —Those who have done even the smallest amount of creative work know how cruel it is to have the children of one’s mental travail slaughtered by some ruthless critic. But there arc times when the hurt needs to be inflicted. Most reviewers find little or no pleasure therein. If possible they damn with faint praise and so temper the castigation. But there are times when an honest opinion cannot go even as far as that. The author has divided “The Brittle Shadow” into Part J. “Something to Remember;” Part 11, “Something to Forget”; Part 111, “ ’Tis the Remembering Hurts. ” Well the author has said so. Why sav more! JI.G.G.