A PIONEER’S MESSAGE

Wanganui Chronicle, Volume 74, Issue 244, 15 October 1931, Page 5

A PIONEER’S MESSAGE

BEACON LIGHT TO SERVICE LOYALTY TO THE TOWN (By E.8.H.) The following article, from the pen of an old pioneer, who is at present an inmate of the Patea Hospital, carries with it a note of that quality of service which was such an outstanding characteristic of the first white settlers. It speaks directly to the rising generation in a theme so capably enunciated by the Hon. J. A. Young at Tuesday night’s dinner.

Patea is to celebrate its Jubilee! Ah, me! How the thoughts of early days in this little corner of New Zealand crowd the mind. When th n first white settlers came to this district they named it Carlyle. History records the fact that I was born in New Plymouth in October, 1866. For several years before that warfare had been carried on between the white settlers in Taranaki and the Maoris. It was a kind of guerrilla warfare. The natives would make a raid, massacre a few white settlers and burn their homes, and then scurry back to their strongholds with as much booty and as little loss of life as possible. At the time of my birth my father was a captain in the Taranaki Militia and was stationed at the mouth of the Patea River. The Militia was a body of men who fought with the Imperial troops under the command of English officers. The natives, having been quiet for some time, my father thought it safe for my mother to join him and, when I was about two months old, she left New Plymouth for Carlyle. To complete the journey we had to go to Wanganui by boat. From there we came to the Patea River by a small boat named the Sturt, under the command of Captain Fairchild. This vessel would anchor as near the beach as possible and the soldiers would wade out and carry the provisions ashore. So we came to this district! At the close of the war a rough survey of the district was made and each officer was allotted a block of land, iu and around what is now Patea township. My father’s block was down by the river. Of the exact extent of it 1 am not sure, but it included what is now the timber yards, and also the site of the Masonic Hotel, and extended to the old Harbour Board wharf ou this side of the river. Our first home was down by the river. It was just a whare, built partly of toi-toi, and stood near where the present power-house stands. Across the river, where Portland Quay is now, was just a thick tangle of flax, toi-toi and fern —good cover for the natives. One beautiful summer evening while I was still a baby, the family, accompanied by two officers, strolled over the hill to where the Masonic Hotel now stands. They suggested going further to the hill behind the present timber yards. But my mother said she could not leave her baby for so long, and, accordingly, one of the officers ran back and picked me up from my cradle. On reaching the further hill, my father looked back and saw a column of smoke rising from the direction of our home. The natives had crossed the river in their canoe and set fire to the whare. That was the end of our first home in this district.

After that my father, fearing further trouble, had us shipped off again to Wanganui, where wc lived for three years. On returning we found quite a number of white settlers in Carlyle. The soldiers’ barracks stood on the cliff at the mouth of the river, and there the first township sprang up. 1 have two clear recollections of the first days in Patea. One day I was

taken by my elder sister to the home of Mr M. Carey’s mother, and that is my earliest recollection of seeing a garden. The other scene that comes before my eyes was of an accident that befell me outside Mrs Holtham’s cottage. Here I was run over by the baker’s cart, and probably owe my life to the fact that the “road” was just soft sand and had no metal. ttoon after that accident we moved down to our second homo by the river. This stood close to where our first whare had been burnt. By that time small boats from Wanganui and elsewhere used to come up the river, and my father built a long wharf, or jetty, across the mud flat to the channel of the river. He also built a store ou the dry ground at the end of the wharf. Merchandise for Hawera, Nor manby, Manutahi and other places was stored there until dispatched to its destination by big horse waggons, in season these waggons brought bales of wool which were stored until taken away by boat. At this time settlers travelled on horseback or by dray. Many a day’s outing we bad by dray. The Patea River was crossed by means of a ferry —a large black punt, worked by a wire cable. Thia ferry was just ou the north side of the situ of the present bridge. Great was our delight as children if we were allowed to cross the river in the punt, and explore among the toi-toi and flax. We also used to fish on these trips across the river, great sport being had in the tiny stream which runs beside the present stationmaster’s residence.

Communication with the outside world was by coach, rut not ou roads such as the motor cars roll over today. For instance, the Patea Hill road, on the other side of the river, usee to be very steep and dangerous. At the upper end, where the water-trough now is, it was from 15 to 20 feet higher than its present level.

As time went on the natives became very friendly, and often made trips down from their pa at Hukatere, bringing big flax baskets of peaches, cape gooseberries, lampreys and eels down the river for sale. Many a Maori kit of peaches from 12 to 151 b weight my mother bought for a shilling or eighteen pence, or in return for old clothes. The Maori women would sit about our home for hours smoking. There was a large store next to our garden, in which was a large upstair? room, which was the first “hall.” Dances were held there and public meetings, and the first Sunday School was opened there by Mrs Dale, mother of Mrs J. G. Beamish, of Patea. Religious services w T ero held there also by visiting clergy from time to time. During this latter time, the “new township,” Patea, was growing on its present site. I remember the first time I was taken to church, which was held in the “new” courthouse recently pulled down.

And so the memories and incidents of childhood crowd my mind. In conclusion may I just skip the years since the early days and come along to 1931, Patea’s Jubilee, and give a little message to the present inhabitants of Patea. It is this:

“Be loyal to your own town. Why are you here? Because your work is here, and your home is here, and it is to your own advantage to live here. So do your work to the very best of your ability, make your home as bright and happy and homely as possible, and do your best to help and cheer all those you meet from day to day. Happiness is not confined to any one place, large or small, and I know that if you count your blessings, and do your best to brighten the lives of others, you will be as happy in little Patea as in Wellington or London.” So fill your glasses and we’ll drink to a happy and prosperous future to Patea.