Tragedy of Tarawera

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XLVII, Issue 26, 26 June 1912, Page 33

Tragedy of Tarawera

A Memorable Anniversary—One of the Survivors

Recounts the Story?—Recollections of Mrs. Hazard.

TWENTY-SIX years ago this month the startling tragedy of Mt. Tarawera occurred, and the Maori villages of Wairoa and Te Ariki, situated respectively on the shores of Lakes Tarawera and Rotomalrana, in the Hot Lakes District of the North Island were buried in their relentless tombs of fiery volcanic debris. So perished half a dozen European residents and many scores of natives. At the time a world wide thrill was caused by the tidings of the disastrous eruption, and throughout the succeeding years the story has remained one of the most interesting of tourist topics. Thousands upon thousands of visitors have viewed the ruins of the buried villages and heard from the native guides the harrowing tales connected therewith. Many of the essential facts, however, have become confused in transmission during the intervening years, and with a view to obtaining ’an authentic recital of the great eruption a representative of "The Weekly Graphic” sought an interview with Mrs. Hazard, widow of the well-known schoolmaster, who perished with several members of his family in the awful calamity. This interesting lady was found by appointment one morning at her residence in Mason's-avenue, Herne Bay, and from a wonderfully preserved store of memories she graphically described the appalling disaster that bereft her of a husband, two daughters, a son, a nephew, and a much-loved home. Mrs. Hazard is 69 years of age, and being of fine physique, is as ’active as many a woman of far fewer trials would be at 50. Hers is a sunny disposition, and but for a head of silvery hair her age would be underestimated. Seated in her cosily-furnished sitting-room, with her painting outfit by her side, and many scenic pictures hung around, this lady is an entertaining hostess. A Happy Home. “ Yes,” she said, when ushering the visitor in; “I will be pleased to tell you all about it. That large photo is the picture of the house as it stood before the eruption. It was a beautiful little home, with its garden and orchard. We had been there about nine and a-half years. The natives would not hear of us leaving, for thev had taken such a

liking to my husband, even to offering valuable gifts of land. He was in charge of the native school. :-nd apart from our own children and those of the Mcßae family. who kept one of the two hotels in the district, there were no European children to be taught." The photograph referred to showed ?. small single storey house with a detached building, which Mrs. Hazard explained had been put up a short time before to afford more room for the entertainment of visitors. There, too. were all the members of the Hazard family photographed among the Howers and the fruit. It is an enlarged picture of a photograph taken by Mr. Blythe, Government surveyor about six months before the eruption. The last-nauned, together with an assistant (Mr. Lundins) were guests of the Hazard household, as they had often been before, when the tragedy occurred. It was a Thursday night. An Appalling Spectacle. " Besides myself and my husband,” said Mrs. Hazard, ** there were in the house Mr. Blythe, Mr. Lundins, our daughters, Clara (aged 22), Ina (aged 16), Edna (aged 6), and Mona (aged 4), our son Adolphus (aged 10). our bittie nephew, Charlie Hazard, and a Maori woman. AVe had retired to bed after spending the evening sociably—Mr. Blythe was reading aloud, others were playing chess—-when at about 11 o’clock there was an earth tremor. First ‘it was severe, then lighter, then severe again. We all got up and went into the sitting room, in the detached portion of the house. The place commenced to shake severely, and through the front window we could see bursting from Mount Tarawera, on the opposite side of Lake Tara- . wera. from where we were, a distance of about twelve miles, great volumes ot flame, just as though a huge bush fire vas raging. Above the angry tongues of fire were awful-looking coils of dense black clouds, while dancing about all over the mountain were balls of light, like immense lanterns, together with a continuous zigzag of lightning. I have learnt since that this was an elective storm.” The Worst Realised. The household would appear to have been remarkably serene. Air. Hazard remarked: “This is a most wonderful sight.

It will be something to tell of throughout the rest of our lives.” Airs. Hazard had by now, however, awakened to the danger which threatened them from the effects of the eruption, even at that great distance from the source whence came those dreadful volumes of molten matter and the terrorising flames. She replied to her husband. “We will not all live to tell it.” The Alaori woman expressed the belief that the day of judgment had arrived. Then the family and visitors got settled down inside where the eldest Miss Hazard played at the organ, with

the others standing round and singing. The last hymn they sang was. “There will be Light in the Morning.” A Night of Horror. “It was Providence that saved me.” said Mrs. Hazard, with the further remark that she had never before told the story of her actual escape to an interviewer. “I was sitting on a chair which ran on casters.” she added, “and when the mud and stones commenced to fall on the roof I wriggled the chair backwards towards the chiffonier. Just then a large beam fell down from the roof, striking my husband, and falling at one

The other end crashed down on the chiffonier, rested with agonising weight on my I'eg. and pinned me in a crouching position on my chair. The roar and the din was awful all the time, and 1 couldn’t move. Aly little boy, who had been standing by me. said. ‘We can’t live, can we?’ and 1 replied. ‘No. dear, w< will die together.’ He then said. ‘Jesus will come and take us.’ and 1 never heard his voice again. While the debris and mud were falling in. one of my little girls gave a glad cry of ‘papa,’ and spoke no more. All through the night, the roar of the volcano, the sound of the falling mud. and the heat of the flames continued. 1 could not move or make anyone hear, and but for the corrugated iron on the building 1 am sure 1 should have been burnt.” In flic Morning. Although the actual eruption was over at midnight. Mrs Hazard was buried beneath the iron and mu 1 for about kcvou hours after that. Mr Blythe and some rescuers succeeded in locating her then. Trv how they could, the task of releasing Mrs Hazard seemed impossible, until the lady herself directed them to knock the legs off the chair and let her down. One of her legn was so badly injured that she could not use it for a month afterwards. She was carried through the Takitapn bush, much of which had fallen overnight, and then taken into Rotorua in a buggy. A week later she was re moved to Auckland. Mrs Hazard was so prostrated at the time that she did not gain more than a momentary idea of the awful devastation which had been caused to the whole landscape. She ex-

plained that her daughter Clara sheltered beneath the organ with Messrs Blythe and Lundins, while her daughter Ina and the Maori woman crouched beneath some corrugated iron in one of the bedrooms, until they found safety in a hen house. These were all saved, but Mr Hazard, the two youngest girls, their brother, and cousin all perished. The house, as well as the native village, was partially buried, as tourists who have viewed the spot well know. “ If We Had Known." "If we had only known as much as we do now.” said Mr-. Hazard, somewhat jiensivtdy. “we could have all been saved by getting into the strongly-built little place at the back. It was built in lean-to fashion against a fence. We knew it was strong, but thought it contained some of the surveyors’ dynamite. As a matter of fact it did not. but none of us knew that the explosive had been moved. However, it was to be. and no good can come of further repining.” Mrs. Hazard remarked that when the earthquake shock was felt on the fatal night they were not at first alarmed because they had experienced worse before—shocks that had broken the crockery on the dresser. "It was not what 1 would call a very severe shock.” she added, “but at the same time it was not nearly as gentle as the little tremor which we had in Auckland the other week.” The earthquakes did not stop as suddenly a-

they commenced, ami during the week, while Mrs. Hazard was lying prostrated at Rotorua, violent shocks continued at intervals. A Mantle of Mud. As an indication of the dire effect which the eruption had upon the whole country-side. Mrs. Hazard mentioned that after her release from the ruins, ami while being carried to a place of safety, she frequently expressed her craving for a drink of water. They told her that none was available, and. as thev were passing the creek from which plentiful supplies of water ha I previously been obtained, she opened her eyes and observed that it was choked up with grey volcanic mud and repuls-ive-looking matter. “They told me.” added Mrs. Hazard, with the suspicion of a merry twinkle, “that on the way from the ruins to Rotorua 1 drank a whole bottle of brandy, but I don’t Im*lieve it. The man who said that was such an inveterate storyteller that I once asked him if he had ever told the truth in his life.” That one fleeting glimpse was the last which Mr-. Hazard wa- t<» take for many years of the spot which had been enshrouded with the

happiest, as well as the saddest, memories of her family life. She re-visited the locality some six years ago, but the pilgrimage was of a painful nature. When in Rotorua a few months ago, Mrs. Hazard did not go out to the buried village. A Night in the Hen-house. It war* afterwards learned that the eldest Miss Hazard, together with Messrs. Blythe and Lundins, came out from their first place of shelter before midnight during a lull in the eruption. The night was bitterly cold and as dark as a dungeon. The roaring of the volcano was so awful that they could not hear each other’s voices only when separated by a few yards. Miss Hazard had got some blankets from one of the bedrooms. and with the other survivors (Mrs. Hazard excepted) was standing on the verandah when lightning struck the house. Stones commenced to fall thickly, and it war, then that the survivors felt their way along the fence to the hen-house, in which they crouched until daylight. The hen-house door was in two halves, stable fashion, and when the refugees got there the level of the mud which had fallen was already nearly over the lower half of the door, d'heir first care on coining out at about (i a.m.. was to search the ruim? for other survivors.

The Death Roll. They found Mrs. Hazard in the par tially-buried condition stated. Mr. Hazard’s body was found close by, he hav-

ing been struck down and killed by the beam which held Mrs. Hazard fast. The two youngest daughters and the nephew had l>een killed by the falling debris. Little Adolphus was also found beneath the ruins close to his mother. "He looked so peaceful.'’ said the latter, "that they did not think he was dead. But I knew that he was.” To the Rescue. Soon after Mrs. Hazard was taken to Rotorua and comfortably quartered at Brent’s Bathgate House, her brother I Mr. Alex. Hazard, now of Franklynroad, Ponsonby), and Inspector Pope (of the Eduction Department), arrived from Auckland to do what they could for the survivors. None of the others sustained injuries. "You will wonder, perhaps,” said Mrs. Hazard, "why the names of my brother and my late husband should be the same. You see.” she explained, "I married my second cousin. Both families had come out from Canada to settle in New Zealand.” The Other European Victim. The remaining European victim was a Mr. Bainbridge, a young English tourist, who was the sole occupant of Mcßae's Hotel, apart from Mr. Mcßae and the

servants, Mrs. Macßae and the family being away from home. When the eruption first started. Messrs. Mcßae and Bainbridge walked to the top of the

hill to view the sight. Realising the danger which threatened the country all around, however, they returned to the hotel, and decided that they should take the servants to shelter in Sophia’s whare. As they were leaving the hotel. Mr. Bainbridge stepped back to allow one of the women to pass, and when they reached the whare he was missing. On returning to the hotel, they found that he had been struck down by a falling beam on the exact spot where he had stepped back in preference to the servant. The lives of a large number of natives were also saved by sheltering in the whare of the guide Sophia, whose death recently occurred at an advanced age. On the authority of Airs Hazard, it may be stated that Mr. Bainbridge had made up his mind that night that he was doomed, having told some of his companions that three members of his family had Been accidentally killed, and that he felt sure he was about to die. By a further coincidence two of the late Air. Hazard's brothers were accidentally killed, the eldest losing his life in an iceboat mishap while returning home for the vacation from the Harvard University. Did the Terraces Escape ? Speculation has from time to time been indulged in as to whether the Pink and White Terraces, one of the former scenie wonders of New Zealand —perhaps of the world —were destroyed by the eruption, or merely submerged. Airs. Hazard gave an unhesitating opinion. "The terraces were simply blown up.” she said: "in fact, neither they nor any human being on Lake Rotomahana that night escaped. The bottom of the lake blew up: that was the trouble. For some time jets of boiling water had been spurting up in the lake—a fact which indicated unusual subterranean activity.” The rising of the water level in the hot lake (Rotomahana) after the eruption was attributed by Airs. Hazard to the blocking-up of a river which ran from Lake Rotomahana into Lake Tarawera. That river being right under the mountain was choked up by volcanic mud at the time of the eruption, she said, and so the outflow of water was checked.