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Letters from Early New Zealand

Lyttelton. May 8th, 1851

page 185
Lyttelton. May 8th, 1851.

My Dear Mother,

I sent my last letter off to you about ten days ago, and two days ago, one to Sara, with an enclosure to Uncle Robert; the Duke of Bronté still only "due". The only event I have to record is, that my husband got back safely from Akaroa the night before last, with Mr. Tancred and Mr. Wortley; they seem to have enjoyed their expedition beyond everything, and had ten of the most perfect days that can be imagined for seeing very beautiful scenery. He has come to the conclusion that, if all goes well, we are certainly (D.V.) to spend at least a month of the spring there; but I dare say we shall not; for, besides other hindrances, I expect that "the main body", as we call the six advertized June ships, will keep arriving and giving more and more business to arrange on the spot, all through that time. June is rather early for them to sail; I am afraid they will, with tolerable passages, arrive before the fine weather does, and we shall have another grand squeeze, too. I hope the new set may prove as good-natured and accommodating as the others, on the whole, have been. My husband is getting very tired of his work, for it is so much interspersed with little personal matters, and it is so disagreeable having people come to him to remind him of all the "promises" they had from Mr. Jackson and others at home, which his instructions do not notice, or contradict. He minds it, perhaps, as little as anybody would, but it makes his work less pleasant, and in some cases he has to modify, or judge for himself, so as to have more responsibility upon his shoulders than he thinks agreeable, or right. There was an unfortunate "article" in our papers, about a month ago, too violent against the "Councils", and present mode of Government, and this is taken as a matter of course to have been written by him, or from his dictation. He had nothing page 186whatever to do with its production, though he did suggest, or advise, the "explanation", or "apology", in the next number, and was quite annoyed about it. But the rival papers at Wellington are full of it; the Government one complaining that it is very ungracious of him when everything has been done that was possible to gratify and accommodate him (I suppose making him R. Magistrate, Commissioner of Crown Lands, etc.); and the other saying that it is natural that the officials should not be pleased at the precedent which he affords, of places held without emolument and so on; then the Wellington Spectator answers again, that it is true that he can afford to give up further salary, as he "bleeds "the Canterbury sheep pretty freely. They are such low papers, both as personal as the Eatanswill Gazette, and I am quite vexed and angry to see his name so mixed up in them. The little editor of the Spectator used to be so civil to us at Wellington.

We had with us at dinner, last Sunday, a Mr. Aitkin from Port Phillip, in Australia, who, with his partner, a Mr. Hawdon, is coming to settle here immediately, with a good deal of stock. He was very complimentary about the country here, and about the advance we have already made; he was astonished at the size of the port town, and, what is more important, at the great numbers of settlers already out upon their land, and intending to cultivate, and get crops in for next season. Port Phillip has advanced so very rapidly itself, that praise from such a quarter is quite worth having. He has just returned, with two others, from an expedition to Lake Coleridge, which they describe as most beautiful, and they were the first white people to stand on its banks, and catch the innumerable eels, which, although not "used to it" seem to have come to be "skinned" very readily. Mr. Torlesse, who was also at dinner, having come for his rest day to the port, had once seen it from a hill at a distance. He has abandoned his old business of surveying, and undertaken the care of some absentees' cattle, which is a much more profitable affair, if he can get full occupation. He has made a good beginning already, and is to get £200 a year for his care of one lot.

May 22nd. We had a grand picnic here on Monday, page 187given by some bachelors, three gentlemen from Port Phillip, and the Captain of the Travancore, and about thirty went, but more were invited. My husband was too busy, and we were both glad of the excuse not to go. The picnic-ians were to cross the harbour in boats, and land in a small sheltered bay opposite, where Mr. Rhodes had his station, in whose wool-shed the entertainment took place. I hear it was extremely well done, every "delicacy of the season" provided; even salad, which is not to be bought here, and must have come from private gardens among the few old settlers, perhaps Mr. Rhodes himself, and for the ladies they had the only two bottles of champagne left on board the Travancore. The Captain has been getting rid of it as fast as he could, by having a dinner-party on board every day; and walks about the town to see what gentlemen he can persuade to come, each morning. Poor man, he had nothing else to do, for the only hands he had left on board were himself, the cook, and the cuddie servant; exactly the parties required to invite the company, prepare the dinner, and wait upon the guests. Every sailor in the ship, including both his mates, left him when he got here, and although they have been prosecuted according to law, they altogether refuse to return to him. Of course it is difficult to get others in their place, and he has written for hands to Wellington, as he is literally unable to stir from here. He has been more than seven weeks in the port, all his business was finished in about a fortnight, and the rest of the time is so much clear loss. Yet he has only just succeeded in getting one mate, and two sailors, who were so tipsy after the picnic (where they were in attendance) that they had to be put to bed for two hours, before they rowed the ladies home. There was dancing all the evening. Mrs. Russell, who always gets into uproarious spirits on any festive occasion, assured me next morning that she danced forty times and wore out the only tidy pair of thin boots she had (you cannot realize what a misfortune that means here) and did not get home till after eleven. Mrs. FitzGerald, who left soon after five, left her there with a dilapidated dress, and her hair all danced down.

We have lovely clear, frosty weather, and plenty of ice! page 188It is already colder than we ever had it at Wellington. I found ice half an inch thick at noon. My husband said this morning, when he was out soon after seven, the ice was so thick on the puddles, he could hardly break it with his heel.

May 27th. We had, on Saturday, a very gay day for the Queen's birthday. A Regatta, and English sports, and native dances, and a School feast. You will see it all in the papers which we mean to send, but it is a very bad account. The day was only too lovely, not a breath of wind all day, so that the sailing-boats never started. First thing in the morning, we had our visitors arrive from "Pigeon Bay", two daughters of a Mrs. Sinclair there; they are very nice people and great friends of the Bishop's (of N.Z.). My husband had made acquaintance with them by staying at their house, both in going, and returning from, Akaroa, and the two sisters came over to see the races and stay a day or two. They had not been here for a year or two, and were of course very much surprised at the number of houses, the road, and our other signs of progress. They saw Wellington in its infancy, and have been at Akaroa, but otherwise they have literally seen no one but the people who come to their house for hospitality; it is the regular half-way house to Akaroa, and they receive everyone, from the Governor and Bishop, to the poorest man travelling by, who gets near them towards evening. It was very amusing to us to see how much they thought of this place, and all they saw. They said they had never seen so many people together before. The boat-races, or rather rowing-matches, were very pretty. As there was no wind for the sailing-matches, we had to begin with them. The first was of five-oared whale boats, a sixth man steering, as they do in whale-boats, with a long oar out behind, and standing, which looks very picturesque. Five boats started, and four of them were Maoris'; only one white crew pulled against them, and they broke an oar, which was a very convenient excuse, for they were beaten very easily, and the Maoris were supposed to do it in remarkably short time and came in very fresh, and in great delight, as you may imagine, for they are very excitable. The start was really very pretty. The sun was very hot, and the sea like glass, and the boats full of brown figures, some page 189quite good-looking, and with bare arms and shoulders; such eager faces watching Mr. FitzGerald, who stood by the great ensign on the jetty, with a gun, which was fired for the signal to start; and then off they went, working all over, and the steersman catching the arm of the man next him at each stroke, and lifting him back. The Victoria won, belonging to a chief, who did not go in her, but walked up and down, telling people he was just like Mr. Godley, and only looked on. Another boat was the Captain Bailey, owned and steered by "Bigfellow". They (the Maoris) have such curious names. The next race was the prettiest, the four-oared rowing match, for which Mr. Ward had entered the pretty little boat he has built here, and which is in constant use, as he now lives on "Quail Island" at the upper end of the harbour. It is called the Lass of Erin (he is engaged to an Irish young lady at home) and was manned by himself and his three workmen, dressed exactly alike in white jersey and trowsers, and a red handkerchief round their heads. He won very easily, and it was really quite exciting to see him come in, in the midst of "tremendous applause" from the jetty; my husband loudest of all, for all that is Irish in him comes out on such an occasion, and he owned that he wouldn't have seen him beaten for £100. Mr. Ward you know, is Irish too, a nephew of Lord Bangor's. Then we had some small sculling-matches, duck-hunt and so on, but not a breath of wind all day long that would stir even Arthur's little "cutter"; so my trouble was wasted, for I had made a lovely flag for Mr. Wortley with the best white silk the town would afford (persian, a little thicker than gauze), and some of my last remains of cerise ribbon. He had got a boat, only for the race, that was called the Charlotte, and had belonged to the Association, and so he said I owed him a flag, as it was called after me. Let no one say that is a small piece of trouble until they have tried to make one, or until persian ceases to stretch and ravel when cut on the cross. Mrs. Russell had got a little vessel, smarter than the Martha, for Arthur, and so she told him she would race with him, and this also took place, but so little wind was there, that the vessels had to be recovered by a little Maori boy walking into the water (for sixpence), page 190as we could wait no longer; the war dance was to begin and the best part to see, of that, is the beginning, when the challenger throws a spear, and they all run to pick it up. But the rest of the dancing (?), especially when the women take it up, is very unpleasing, and more like a clown in the pantomime, rolling his eyes about to make you laugh, than any real dance. Then we had luncheon, our own dinner, for about as many as could sit down in our room, and then a soapy pig, and a greased pole, and a wheelbarrow race, and then it was time to go to the schoolchildren, whom we had invited to a tea party, in one of the empty barrack-rooms that before served as a ballroom. There were to have been seventy children (but some did not come), so we made the tea in the boiler of a small furnace we have for washing, and ordered twelve dozen buns and some plum cake from the baker's. I mention this because I think it must be a satisfaction to you to know that we can get buns here. Order was most strictly preserved by the presence of our schoolmaster, a very tremendous gentleman, who however rather took away from our joviality; and then the gentlemen of the Glee Club volunteered to give us some of their performances (really very good), until it got dark, and we could have the magic-lantern, which was to conclude the festivity. There is a very good one amongst the innumerable things that Mr. Jackson brought out, and the children received each new slide with loud shouts of delight, and when they had gone home, and the big children who came to look with them, there was a second exhibition for the Maoris, and we sent them tea and cake too. We had only a few people at tea, and went quietly to bed, but there was a very gay party on board the Travancore, first dinner and then dancing. There were eight ladies on board and about forty gentlemen, and as seems always the case, the fewer the lady-partners were, the more anxious were all the gentlemen to dance; in short it was very successful, and everyone thoroughly tired next day. Specially Mrs. Russell. Mr. Russell has come to a final disagreement with Mr. McFarlane, who would have ruined him completely if his eyes had not been opened just in time. It is too long a story to write, but my husband is doing what he can for Mr. Russell, and has a page 191good deal of trouble in consequence. But it comes at a lucky moment, for there is less than usual to do at "the Office" from the non-appearance of the Duke of Bronté, although the Travancore has now been in nine weeks, and had not a very quick passage out, herself. We are getting a little uneasy about her, and very wishful for news, as our last is now six months old, and this is not a case in which "no news is good news", exactly.

I suppose London is now nearly mad, with the Great Exhibition, just opened, and so on. I half expect to hear of your taking fright, and not appearing there at all. I suppose you could realize a small fortune by letting the house in floors? What a squeeze it will be. I think we are rather well out of it, it makes me feel quite tired only to think about going to see such a monster exhibition. But perhaps, after all, the grapes are sour. Perhaps, too, a good deal of it may still be to be seen when we may hope to get back, for we hear rumours I don't know how, though, of its lasting "a year" or "two years". I am afraid that Mr. Evans' friends at Denbigh will not receive very good reports from him. He seemed very well pleased with everything at first, especially his bit of land, which my husband had to choose, only he found things dearer than he expected, and at last he came the other day to beg John to lend him money, or at least to back his bills, which he was obliged reluctantly to refuse, and I am afraid Mr. Evans was disappointed and almost hurt; but really, even when you are certain of people being able and willing to pay eventually, still, unless you have a large account at the bank, it may sometimes be very inconvenient to be drawn upon even for small sums, if there are a good many of them; and it is nearly impossible to raise money here in a hurry, even paying 10 per cent; you get 8, per cent on Government debentures. So in short, it is necessary, for your own safety, to make it a rule not to back anyone's bill, and then no one ought to be offended, and especially in a situation like my husband, where everyone thinks him the person to apply to; so he has refused, always excepting in two special and urgent cases, but it is very disagreeable having to do so. On May 28th Mr. FitzGerald, who had been to Pigeon Bay page 192on business, and slept at Mr. Sinclair's (of course), came back late on a wet evening with such a magnificent "topsail schooner", a present from a small Miss Sinclair. One of those who came here is married to the Captain of a Whaler, and he makes these sort of toy ships in his spare time at sea. It came in as we were at our seven o'clock tea and looked so magnificent, being about three feet high, that my husband, in spite of all I could say, crept upstairs when I was attending to someone else, and brought down Arthur in his nightgown and nearly asleep. He was in perfect raptures, as I need not say, at finding himself the owner of a vessel with a rudder, several blocks and eight sails! It had to go upstairs, and he talked himself to sleep over its beauties. Not, however, until he had got Powles to provide herself with lucifer matches, that they might get up before it was light the next morning, which was to be his father's birthday, and he had so much to do, he said; his ship to arrange, and to give his father the picture he had drawn and painted for his birthday present, and to boil one of his hen's eggs for his breakfast. It was Ascension Day this year, and Royal Oak Day, but nothing in the shape of an oak-leaf could we manage. To be sure how much better and stronger John is, himself, than on his birthday last year. God grant he may continue so. The cold weather so far has done him no apparent harm; he was afraid himself, and so was I, that he would not be so well in the winter; he made such a great start for the better when the warm weather began in earnest in the summer. Arthur's picture was a fine production, and now hangs up in his father's room, and the Fitzgeralds came to tea, so we had some music; but Mr. F. has got either one of his old winter coughs, or else the whooping-cough, we do not quite know which, and quite prevents singing. His wife really sings beautifully, I think I scarcely ever heard anyone say their words so well, and she sings, and understands, French, Italian, German, and Russian; and English best of all. She is come now to stay with us, while her husband is away for a day or two's business on the plains, and so I get the practising in the morning extra, which is very satisfactory. I cannot make page 193her sing all day long, because she is not strong, and often not allowed to sing high songs and so on.

June 6th. At last the Duke of Bronté announced inside the Heads! We spent a good deal of a very cold day in going out to watch her beating up the harbour against a biting south-easter, all the high hills round covered with real snow! I wonder what the people on board think of their new country. Mrs. FitzGerald in great excitement, because a brother of hers was to be in her. We watched her till the anchor was dropped just before sunset, and then Mr. Wortley, who had gone on board in spite of the high sea and cold, came in to tell us that he had come, and a little brother of twelve with him, and that we could have no letters till the morning. There was such a great mail that it took two boats to bring the bags and boxes on shore, and the poor postmaster says he must engage an able-bodied man to sort all night, with him, that we may have them in the morning, and as a stopgap he brought some letters that Mr. Draper, Mrs. FitzGerald's brother, had brought for different people; but he could not leave the ship, having come out as "Surgeon Superintendent". One of the letters was from Archibald for my husband! and so we made out, negatively, that all must be going well, or he would somehow allude to it in his letter, and we had to go to sleep on that; and now (June 7th) I have been spending a most satisfactory time over four letters, which my husband somehow procured, with some for himself. Mine were from Sara, Laura, Louisa and Frances, and telling of Xmas and so on, and oh so pleasant to read out here! But letters give me a sad longing to be at home, and in the midst of it, when I have read a good many together, it seems at last as if New Zealand was all a dream, and it is not till I look out at the bare hills, and the bridle path, and the town of wooden houses, and above all "the Office" door at the bottom of our little green slope, that the dull reality comes back to me. But dull I ought not to call it, for, whatever it may be in other respects, it is not that, with such weather as we have, enough to put anyone in spirits, who is at all under such influences; though I do not like the cold we have now at all, or my consequent row of chilblains, and touches of rheumatics, page 194which latter are very common out here. I am very grateful for all my good news, very glad to hear of the Stokesley plan, and the proposed visit to Ledstone, and now (evening) I have, too, my letter from you, and my parcel. Arthur will get one of the maps (the "Miracles") to morrow, which is Whit-Sunday, and Frances' Jack and the Giants (D.V.) on his birthday, in ten days. This has been a great day with him; besides getting three new books, and lots of messages and anecdotes of home, one of our hens has brought out nine little chicks, and our goat has presented us with a little kid, which is named "Brontë" after the late arrival. I have just found out all about my parcel from Aunt Anne's little note inside. You must thank her a great deal, till my letter comes. I am hoping to send this by the Travancore, which is at last just off to Sydney. I am very sorry about Tom's great knock in the railway, but I hope by this time he has almost forgotten it. Vernon must be a most capital little child, and I am quite delighted with Frances' portrait of him, which almost makes me laugh, it is so like Tom, and so exactly what his son ought to be. It is quite a pretty little picture too, and I am going to frame and glaze it. I am so glad too at her drawing so well. I wish I could send one of Arthur. Mrs. FitzGerald always declares he is six, because he speaks so plainly and looks so big, but I think that is his dress, the trowsers and shirt look old, unless he is walking with his Father, and then he looks the funniest little miniature you ever saw. He is just now a good deal devoted to the animals, the goat is a novelty, and there is a fat puppy, too, with whom he spends a great deal of his time, and three other dogs, besides Lady Nugent (the horse), who is William's great pet. He (William) likes the stable work so much better than any other, that he shirks as much of the indoor work as he can now, and I am amused to see that even the little "walk" to the stable door is kept carefully cut at the edges and so tidy, while the corresponding one, even more in sight, to "the Office", is left entirely to itself. He goes on very well, on the whole, and we like him very much, but you would rather laugh to see his present style of dress. Sometimes (on rainy days) he is the "bushman", in a blue shirt, etc., sometimes the sportsman, page 195in a very antique light velveteen shooting jacket, that was I think once Heneage's, and sometimes he verges upon the "groom of the chambers" style when on Sunday he brings in dinner in a discarded blue frock coat of my husband's; but always dirty. His general get up though, for bringing in tea, for instance, when we have company or not, is a pair of dirty fustian trowsers, and an old black sort of cut-away morning coat, "late the property of J.R.G., Esq." We have sometimes ventured on a remonstrance, but he always shuts John's mouth by alluding to his "dirty work", stable, etc. The Travancore is gone; slipped off before we were aware, I believe for fear of any one deserting; but I am not very sorry, as I think we shall have quite as good an opportunity by sending up to Wellington soon, where there is a vessel preparing to go home direct. Captain Brown went off to Sydney, a stormy passage of about three weeks, with only three seamen on board; he was unpopular and no more would go with him. The few other hands he got were landsmen, ordinary labourers, tempted by the idea of getting a peep at Sydney for nothing! We shall be glad to hear of their safe arrival.

The Bronté anchored on Friday evening, and on Monday morning the Stedfast was announced inside the heads; she left London about forty-eight to fifty days after the Bronté and arrived here about as many hours after her, and so then we got all our fresh budget of news and most of it very good. Almost too much it seems, for we shall now have such a long wait and everything so flat, comparatively, and how am I to thank you all for the letters! There is no one here whose friends write one half so well, of that I am quite sure. Only I am afraid of whether I can answer them all in time. I have, too, a letter from Mrs. Daly, as she says to "draw one "from me, and such books and presents for Arthur that I am obliged to put most of them by, and dole them out by degrees, but as he is to be four years old (D.V.) next Tuesday, I shall allow him a good many for that day.

How well I can imagine you all at Stokesley (a great many thanks for my messages, if you please), and it is such a good jolly report of all there, that I can afford to wait now, as we shall doubtless have to do, for it is not likely that the page 196next vessel can have so quick a passage as the Stedfast. As to politics, though, it is very exciting and uncomfortable, as the last we hear is a probability of Graham, Grey, and Cobden, which sounds doleful enough. Church matters are so unsatisfactory that I could almost wish not to hear about them, here. They make one very fearful for so many, and cast quite a cloud over the thoughts of being in England again. I am quite glad, though, that for once you all write just after a letter from me had arrived, and it was evidently Lady Clarke's fault, and not ours, that we had seemed less exemplary in that particular. And so my dear Heneage is actually off; well I hope, when I get back, it will be almost leave time, and at all events everyone seems to like Malta. I shall be very anxious to hear about William. When I think of him I cannot remember the great big boy with rather too sporting a waistcoat, and air generally, just going to pass through the ordeal of Cambridge; I always go back to such a nice boy at Voelas, and "tub-time", as he used to call it, when I used to go up every night to see him into bed! He makes me feel so very old, but indeed so I am.

June 3rd, Monday, was a very busy day here, all the Bronté people on shore, to look about, for it was fine; the Stedfast beating up the harbour, and moreover Council day, and rather a special meeting. Mr. Cholmondeley, too, came in from Port Levi, where he has taken his land, and lives isolated, which seems to be his fancy. He is never strong, but looks very well, for him, with plenty of colour in his formerly pale face; which is also much improved by a great beard which he is so gentlemanlike-looking as to be able to wear without looking horrible, as most people do. We had Mr. Tancred at dinner, and two of the new-comers, Mr. and Mrs. White. He is the son of Mr. White, partner to "G. F. Young", who writes letters in the Chronicle, etc.; someone great in the shipping interest. This son had some thoughts of coming out to N.Z., and then married privately, an innkeeper's daughter, and barmaid, we hear, at Gravesend. I believe they said nothing for six weeks, and then it was revealed, his friends very angry; and in six weeks more they were reconciled, and on board the Bronté on their way out here. I need not say she is not very ladylike, but rather page 197good (or picturesque) looking, with a showy style of dress. We dine at 1.30, and then I had to walk her about, and so on, till tea-time; but they went back on board at ten, and we had Mr. Russell, who had come in for letters and business, in our spare-room for the night. The next afternoon, a storm of wind came on so violently, with rain and hail, that we had to take in Mr. White and Mr. Heathcote; they were obliged to put up with us for the night, day, and another night, too, as the storm was so violent no boats would go off; the only one that tried it was "stove in" in getting on shore again. It was a fearful gale, worse than has been known here, they say, since the settlers came. One large schooner was driven up on shore, high and dry, but very little damaged fortunately; and another little one, of fifteen tons, belonging to Mr. Wortley and some more gentlemen, was also driven on shore, and a hole knocked in her, and several boats broken to pieces. It was a sad introduction for the new-comers, and accordingly they were all terribly put out, we hear, and nearly all anxious to leave the place. Indeed, if it was not for the idea of getting letters by them, I should be very glad, and so would everyone, that no ships should come out during the winter.

There has been as yet no well-authenticated case of a day's work (unskilled labour even) done for 3s. 6d., but still work is slack, that is, people are shy of giving employment at 4s. in these short days; and provisions are all dear, we are threatened with the 2-lb. loaf at 9d. next week, and meat is now 7d. or 7 1/2d. a lb., salt butter 1s. 6d.—2s. a lb. if good. Milk not to be had, for many people, but when it is, the price is 5d. a quart, and everything else in proportion; vegetables of course dear, potatoes 1d. a lb. or more, but they are getting cheaper, and cabbages 6d. a piece, and turnips 1d. a piece, only to be had when the Maoris bring over a boatfull to sell from their gardens at Pigeon Bay. There were three boats, full of them, on their bit of beach here when this bad weather first set in; only camping under their boats, and there were several children. One poor little thing, that could scarcely walk, was toddling round the little fire, with nothing but a cotton handkerchief, on which a pack of cards was gaily depicted, put on it cloak page 198fashion, with the two upper corners tied round its neck, and this on a cold evening when I could not keep my hands warm with ordinary walking. They say the children die in great numbers, and I am sure it is no wonder, from the way they manage them; for a great part of their time they are nearly smothered, tied up on their backs ins de one or two blankets; and then, for a change, they run about just naked. I suggested, in this case, that the child must be cold, but the women round gave me a look of supreme contempt, and said: "Oh, he not want de clothes". I am rather sorry to hear of your very mild winter, it generally brings a late summer; but no doubt it is very pleasant in the meantime. To-day, too, June 16th, we have such a warm wind, the thermometer up at 58 before it was quite light. Yesterday, we had a sharp white frost. We hear great accounts of loss from the gale. One ship, eight hundred tons, on its way here from Sydney, has lost more than one hundred horses, besides other things, and is now in Wellington. Another little coaster that has often been here, is lost. One of our new-comers, in the Stedfast, is a Mrs. Dysandt, who came out here to be a governess, in hopes of the voyage curing her of a very long illness, which it has done completely; but I fear she has arrived here too soon to find anyone ready to receive her, or at least anyone who could make her comfortable. Mr. Brittain's is the only really comfortable house where she would have a chance of a room to herself, however small, and I should be sorry for her if they would take her there; for Mrs. Brittain went out of her mind, about a week after her confinement, just when Mr. and Mrs. Jackson went away, and although she is much better now, she still wanders very much; and they have a nasty set of maids who beat and ill-treat the five children. Mrs. Dysandt has letters to almost everyone in N.Z., Lady Canning and Lady Caroline Stirling are very much interested for her, and Mr. Adderley and Mr. Simeon wrote to us, and have got letters for her to almost everyone both here and at Wellington; where, we are obliged to recommend her to go on, as she can do so free of expense, in the Stedfast. I scarcely know who can take her, even there; but there are at all events more comforts to be had there, and things not page 199quite so dear as they are here. I think she would have a very good chance at Sydney, but she does not like the idea of going there. Another thing, too, is against her, that she is not what you would call accomplished, nowadays; understands music, she says, but plays very little. She is more a nice ladylike person, fitter to be a companion, and that sort of thing is not so often required. We are rather unhappy about her.

June 17th. Arthur's birthday, four years old, and such a lovely day, like one of those very warm mornings in May, the thermometer at 60, before the sun rose; two mornings ago it was 38, and frost in the night. We had a grand day of presents, and other delights; an anchor for the Ann, which I had made for his Father to give; then his Aunt Sara's map of the Zoological Gardens; then his Aunt Charlotte's (P.) lovely picture-book of naughty boys. Then Mr. Wortley, as it was his birthday, took us (after Office hours) out in his boat, to sail the Ann, and another "cutter", and when we came in from our walk at dark (5 p.m.), there was Vernon's beautiful dinner-set of plates, arranged for a tea-party with a small bun for a cake, on the big dish, the salt-cellars filled with sugar, and the sauce-boats acting as cream jugs; and Frances' little "biscuit" jug, which I am happy to record as quite safe, acting as a reservoir. We each had several cups of rather metallic tea, and everything was perfectly successful, excepting that the evening turned out wet and the FitzGeralds could not come down to us; so we lost our music, and Arthur the very great excitement of seeing Mr. F. draw a ship, which, in consideration of the birthday, he had promised to do, if Arthur could be allowed to sit up. He draws ships just as Heneage does horses, and every part accurately, talking to the child, something, too, like him; so that I quite like to sit by, and look on and listen; and Arthur is quite beside himself with delight, when he sees it come all right, and not, like my ships, full of mistakes, which he can now appreciate. Mr. F. has only drawn for him twice, but the mere idea of his coming again is hailed with intense happiness; the paper, etc., all laid ready long before, and then at every knock (N.B.—The knocker was an offering from Mr. Calvert, small, black, and page 200cockney looking, but I was forced to be grateful, he put it on himself while I was out), out he rushed, silent from suspense, to see who it was. This last page is addressed to Louisa and Frances, who reprove me for not recording enough about Arthur; whereas I am always afraid that I am writing too much à la doting mother; which is a character I do not at all wish to assume, or else I am likely enough to fall into it, from being so much my own nurse and governess. Powles is too busy, and too much, too, with the other servants, for me to be able to get rid of him (so to speak) to her, except for dressing and sometimes not then, and an occasional walk; and my time is so much taken up with visitors, that after a fair amount of attention to them there is very little left upon my hands. For instance, to-day (18th) I had not been at home from 9 o'clock Church more than half an hour, when Mr. Russell came in, to wait for my husband. Then came Mrs. Russell while he was there, in port for a day, and paid a long visit, telling me some of her annoyances, and as she went, came Mrs. FitzGerald, who generally comes down, about 12, 30, to take a little walk with us on the beach, which I invite her to do, as she otherwise never walks at all. I then went quickly to carry a present of cauliflower from our own garden to a neighbour, and meantime arrived Mrs. Dysandt, to dine with us again. It is quite a treat to her to be on shore, and when she went a little before six, there was dressing, a little reading and a little playing with Arthur; tea, when he vanishes, a little more reading, as we are alone, and then behold me conversing with you in black and white and a very bad way too, and so good night.

19th. To-day we had Mr. John Deans at dinner, and his accounts of the profits on sheep make me very desirous to get some as an investment. Mr. Russell has bought Deans one station and stock of sheep, and seems likely, after the first year, to grow very rich, in spite of all Mr. McFarlane's help towards ruination. Miss McF. has been on the point of marriage ever since she came, but first the intended could not get his house built, and now the hitch is about her dress. I hear she cannot make up her mind to be married in mere book-muslin; it must be silk; and page 201another difficulty is that she must wear white satin shoes, and therefore cannot come to the Church, since we have no carriage, but wishes to have the service performed in their little sitting-room! To which our Church Authorities object. Her father talks of going back to England, now that he is no longer employed for Mr. Russell. I rather expect he will go to Sydney, we hear such wonderful accounts of the new California discovered there. It is, if true, rather a bad thing for us, at present, as it makes prices higher, and in fact almost stops our supplies from there, because of the difficulty of getting ships manned in the vicinity of such an El Dorado. The sailors are already asking, and getting, enormous wages, and flour is expected to be £40 a ton. We are unhappy, too, about our letters, and how we can get them sent home by Sydney. We hear there are six ships advertized there for England, who cannot get hands, and have no chance at present. And then my husband says, if he were a single man he would go home now, in the Stedjast and by the overland; stay a month, to arrange some business matters that are going on wrong, and then back again to carry on matters on the new principle. Luckily for me, we can't afford to go home so, en masse, and even he thinks it too long to leave me alone here "as I have none of my people out here". So we must trust to the effect of letters, and I have the honour of copying the most important and "private" ones.

July 1st. We have had, since I wrote, a very sad accident here, which has thrown a great damp over everything. I told you of Mr. Ward having gone over to live in Quail Island, and he used to come over, two or three days a week, to bring his butter to market, and do his business at the Bank, as Churchwarden, etc., for he was Trustee for all kinds of things, and looked up to by everyone for his innumerable good qualities. We made up a party to go there one day, and see the Island, and were to cook our own dinner on the beach. Mr. Wortley was to take us over in his little boat, which just held myself, Arthur and Powles. Mrs. FitzGerald and her little brother, and Mr. Wortley and Mr. Mounsell to row us, and a clothes-basket of food. It was Frances' birthday, which I wanted to keep, and they page 202were all in favour of keeping to the day (though it turned out cold and rough), so we went over, and were to get Mr. Ward to come over for the rest of the party, in his larger boat, which he had said he would do any day. When we arrived there, we heard he was not at home. He had gone over for firewood, with his next brother, to the land up the harbour, several miles from here, and said he would be back to dinner on the Monday, and this was Tuesday, and they had no news of them. The youngest brother, who is a very nice young boy of sixteen, came to meet us, and said they were uneasy, and they were very glad to take our boat and go and see after them. We were very little alarmed, for people are constantly missing here for a day or two. Our dinner-party was rather small and it was very cold, but we sat under shelter near our fire, and got a few shells on the beach, and then began to wonder they did not come back. It was very rough for our little boat; the wind, too, against us going home; and I, who never like going in one if I can help it, was getting a little unhappy about ourselves, when just as it was getting dark, they came, the poor boy crying, and the men, who were extremely fond of their master, almost as bad. They had found nothing but the boat (the same that won the race here) thrown on the beach, bottom upwards, and the oars, one near, and one half a mile off, and the firewood strewed about. It had evidently been upset; one cannot account for the fact that though both could swim, besides having the boat to cling to, yet that neither should be saved, yet so it was. I brought Hamilton, the young brother, home with us, borrowing the larger boat which we were the first to use after the accident; and I was very thankful to feel myself safe on shore, for it was quite a rough evening. There were boats out searching, for two or three days, in vain; but on the Friday we got word that the body of the eldest was washed on shore, at the head of the harbour, and a boat started to fetch it; but such a fearful storm came on, and lasted all Saturday, that the boat could get no further than the Island, and we, in the port, were half afraid that this boatful was lost too. It was a fearful night and day, four vessels driven on shore, and a little one, or rather boat, sunk. (The large ones, however, page 203moved very little, and there is a Public Meeting to-day, to petition the Government to establish moorings.) Sunday was pretty fine, and then the body was brought in; the other is not yet found. On Monday there was an inquest, and then the funeral. Almost every respectable person in the settlement attended it except two or three on the plains, who mistook the day. My husband walked with poor Hamilton, who is to live with us till he hears from home. John had also the sad task of writing to his father. It would not do for so young a boy to live alone with the labourers, in the Island, so he is to stay here, and attend college lectures, which begin on Monday. He is very anxious that his father should consent to leave him out here; they are a family of sixteen, and he says he has no prospects at home. It is very fortunate for us that he is such a nice tractable boy; he does not even, yet, shew any signs of teasing Arthur. Poor Mr. Ward will be terribly missed, both here and at home; he was the eldest son, and had been for a short time at the Irish Bar; he was a good man of business very sensible, and very much liked by everyone. He used to sing with the Glee Club, and church practisings, dance with the young ladies, talk sensibly, or laugh and smoke with the gentlemen, work with his labourers, and was always good-natured and full of spirits. You have no idea of how much everyone feels his loss. We have thought of scarcely anything else, lately, and the very bad weather makes us all quite low. It is very cold. Everyone complaining of chilblains, and plenty of colds. Still my husband, thank God, keeps as well, and sleeps with an open window; Arthur, too, very flourishing. Another sad thing, just now, is the state of the poor clergyman who came out in the Stedfast, and who went out of his mind, a few weeks after he came on board. He now lodges with the doctor and is harmless, but wishes to kill himself. I hear he is consumptive, and has a bad cough. He looks very ill. He is quite a young man, a Mr. Hodgkinson, and was, I believe, at Cambridge with Mr. FitzGerald. We have another lunatic, who is violent, and no place to put them. One of the vessels here has just declared an intention of going to Valparaiso; the Captain says you may get letters, so, in two months and a page 204half, so we shall probably send ours that way; mine to Laura and one of J.'s to C.; it may be a very quick one. There are coasting steamers, every fortnight, from there to Panama, and there the West Indian steamers touch, and get home in six weeks. Arthur drew a large steamer yesterday, quite his own idea "for Grandmamma"; it was painted, too, and entirely his own performance, but unfortunately an open window blew it into the fire! So he is very busy doing another "original sketch", and as it is very light, I cannot refuse to send it. Pray let Sara see it, for those things always make her laugh. Now I must really stop my writing, for I have two or three letters to finish, and the post closes at three, and so good-bye, God bless you all. I have so many special inquiries to make after people, that in despair of writing all, I shall not begin. Arthur says he has no message, only "Tell her I'm going to send you a picture". Best love to everyone and a great deal to Stokesley. I have written to Aunt Anne.

Yours very affectionately,

Charlotte Godley. July 10th, 1851.

N.B.—You must thank William for the oil spilt on this page. This will make such a parcel to send by India, or else the Bronté and Stedfast both expect to go there, the end of next week, and the Indian way seems much the quickest, and I am afraid I must venture it, though I am quite alarmed at the idea of what you may have to pay. How very sorry I am about Coombes,* the accounts of him seem quite bad, but I don't know; fancy either Voelas, or P. Sqre., without him. Fancy my being as happy as to be once more at the door, and then some piece of grandeur and pomposity intervening with, "What name, Ma'am, shall I say?"

* The family butler.