Aspect of Port Lyttelton--Ascent of Hill behind it--View--Christ Church-
-Yankeeisms--Return to Port Lyttelton and Ship--Phormium Tenax--Visit to
a Farm--Moa Bones.
January 27, 1860.--Oh, the heat! the clear transparent atmosphere, and
the dust! How shall I describe everything--the little townlet, for I
cannot call it town, nestling beneath the bare hills that we had been
looking at so longingly all the morning--the scattered wooden boxes of
houses, with ragged roods of scrubby ground between them--the tussocks
of brown grass--the huge wide-leafed flax, with its now seedy stem,
sometimes 15 or 16 feet high, luxuriant and tropical-looking--the
healthy clear-complexioned men, shaggy-bearded, rowdy-hatted, and
independent, pictures of rude health and strength--the stores, supplying
all heterogeneous commodities--the mountains, rising right behind the
harbour to a height of over a thousand feet--the varied outline of the
harbour now smooth and sleeping. Ah me! pleasant sight and fresh to
sea-stricken eyes. The hot air, too, was very welcome after our long
chill.
We dined at the table d'hote at the Mitre--so foreign and yet so
English--the windows open to the ground, looking upon the lovely
harbour. Hither come more of the shaggy clear-complexioned men with the
rowdy hats; looked at them with awe and befitting respect. Much grieved
to find beer sixpence a glass. This was indeed serious, and was one of
the first intimations which we received that we were in a land where
money flies like wild-fire.
After dinner I and another commenced the ascent of the hill between port
and Christ Church. We had not gone far before we put our knapsacks on
the back of the pack-horse that goes over the hill every day (poor pack-
horse!). It is indeed an awful pull up that hill; yet we were so
anxious to see what was on the other side of it that we scarcely noticed
the fatigue: I thought it very beautiful. It is volcanic, brown, and
dry; large intervals of crumbling soil, and then a stiff, wiry,
uncompromising-looking tussock of the very hardest grass; then perhaps a
flax bush, or, as we should have said, a flax plant; then more crumbly,
brown, dry soil, mixed with fine but dried grass, and then more
tussocks; volcanic rock everywhere cropping out, sometimes red and
tolerably soft, sometimes black and abominably hard. There was a great
deal, too, of a very uncomfortable prickly shrub, which they call
Irishman, and which I do not like the look of at all. There were cattle
browsing where they could, but to my eyes it seemed as though they had
but poor times of it. So we continued to climb, panting and broiling in
the afternoon sun, and much admiring the lovely view beneath. At last
we near the top, and look down upon the plain, bounded by the distant
Apennines, that run through the middle of the island. Near at hand, at
the foot of the hill, we saw a few pretty little box-like houses in
trim, pretty little gardens, stacks of corn and fields, a little river
with a craft or two lying near a wharf, whilst the nearer country was
squared into many-coloured fields. But, after all, the view was rather
of the "long stare" description. There was a great extent of country,
but very few objects to attract the eye and make it rest any while in
any given direction. The mountains wanted outlines; they were not
broken up into fine forms like the Carnarvonshire mountains, but were
rather a long, blue, lofty, even line, like the Jura from Geneva or the
Berwyn from Shrewsbury. The plains, too, were lovely in colouring, but
would have been wonderfully improved by an object or two a little nearer
than the mountains. I must confess that the view, though undoubtedly
fine, rather disappointed me. The one in the direction of the harbour
was infinitely superior.
At the bottom of the hill we met the car to Christ Church; it halted
some time at a little wooden public-house, and by and by at another,
where was a Methodist preacher, who had just been reaping corn for two
pounds an acre. He showed me some half-dozen stalks of gigantic size,
but most of that along the roadside was thin and poor. Then we reached
Christ Church on the little river Avon; it is larger than Lyttelton and
more scattered, but not so pretty. Here, too, the men are shaggy,
clear-complexioned, brown, and healthy-looking, and wear exceedingly
rowdy hats. I put up at Mr. Rowland Davis's; and as no one during the
evening seemed much inclined to talk to me, I listened to the
conversation.
The all-engrossing topics seemed to be sheep, horses, dogs, cattle,
English grasses, paddocks, bush, and so forth. From about seven o'clock
in the evening till about twelve at night I cannot say that I heard much
else. These were the exact things I wanted to hear about, and I
listened till they had been repeated so many times over that I almost
grew tired of the subject, and wished the conversation would turn to
something else. A few expressions were not familiar to me. When we
should say in England "Certainly not," it is here "No fear," or "Don't
YOU believe it." When they want to answer in the affirmative they say
"It is SO," "It does SO." The word "hum," too, without pronouncing the
U, is in amusing requisition. I perceived that this stood either for
assent, or doubt, or wonder, or a general expression of comprehension
without compromising the hummer's own opinion, and indeed for a great
many more things than these; in fact, if a man did not want to say
anything at all he said "hum hum." It is a very good expression, and
saves much trouble when its familiar use has been acquired. Beyond
these trifles I noticed no Yankeeism, and the conversation was English
in point of expression. I was rather startled at hearing one gentleman
ask another whether he meant to wash this year, and receive the answer
"No." I soon discovered that a person's sheep are himself. If his
sheep are clean, he is clean. He does not wash his sheep before
shearing, but he washes; and, most marvellous of all, it is not his
sheep which lamb, but he "lambs down" himself.
* * *
I have purchased a horse, by name Doctor. I hope he is a homoeopathist.
He is in colour bay, distinctly branded P. C. on the near shoulder. I
am glad the brand is clear, for, as you well know, all horses are alike
to me unless there is some violent distinction in their colour. This
horse I bought from --, to whom Mr. FitzGerald kindly gave me a letter
of introduction. I thought I could not do better than buy from a person
of known character, seeing that my own ignorance is so very great upon
the subject. I had to give 55 pounds, but, as horses are going, that
does not seem much out of the way. He is a good river-horse, and very
strong. A horse is an absolute necessity in this settlement; he is your
carriage, your coach, and your railway train.
On Friday I went to Port Lyttelton, meeting on the way many of our late
fellow-passengers--some despondent, some hopeful; one or two dinnerless
and in the dumps when we first encountered them, but dinnered and
hopeful when we met them again on our return. We chatted with and
encouraged them all, pointing out the general healthy, well-conditioned
look of the residents. Went on board. How strangely changed the ship
appeared! Sunny, motionless, and quiet; no noisy children, no
slatternly, slipshod women rolling about the decks, no slush, no washing
of dirty linen in dirtier water. There was the old mate in a clean
shirt at last, leaning against the mainmast, and smoking his yard of
clay; the butcher close--shaven and clean; the sailors smart, and
welcoming us with a smile. It almost looked like going home. Dined in
Lyttelton with several of my fellow-passengers, who evidently thought it
best to be off with the old love before they were on with the new, i.e.
to spend all they brought with them before they set about acquiring a
new fortune. Then went and helped Mr. and Mrs. R. to arrange their new
house, i.e. R. and I scrubbed the floors of the two rooms they have
taken with soap, scrubbing-brushes, flannel, and water, made them
respectably clean, and removed his boxes into their proper places.
Saturday.--Rode again to port, and saw my case of saddlery still on
board. When riding back the haze obscured the snowy range, and the
scenery reminded me much of Cambridgeshire. The distinctive marks which
characterise it as not English are the occasional Ti palms, which have a
very tropical appearance, and the luxuriance of the Phormium tenax. If
you strip a shred of this leaf not thicker than an ordinary piece of
string, you will find it hard work to break it, if you succeed in doing
so at all without cutting your finger. On the whole, if the road
leading from Heathcote Ferry to Christ Church were through an avenue of
mulberry trees, and the fields on either side were cultivated with
Indian corn and vineyards, and if through these you could catch an
occasional glimpse of a distant cathedral of pure white marble, you
might well imagine yourself nearing Milan. As it is, the country is a
sort of a cross between the plains of Lombardy and the fens of North
Cambridgeshire.
At night, a lot of Nelson and Wellington men came to the club. I was
amused at dinner by a certain sailor and others, who maintained that the
end of the world was likely to arrive shortly; the principal argument
appearing to be, that there was no more sheep country to be found in
Canterbury. This fact is, I fear, only too true. With this single
exception, the conversation was purely horsy and sheepy. The fact is,
the races are approaching, and they are the grand annual jubilee of
Canterbury.
Next morning, I rode some miles into the country, and visited a farm.
Found the inmates (two brothers) at dinner. Cold boiled mutton and
bread, and cold tea without milk, poured straight from a huge kettle in
which it is made every morning, seem the staple commodities. No
potatoes--nothing hot. They had no servant, and no cow. The bread,
which was very white, was made by the younger. They showed me, with
some little pleasure, some of the improvements they were making, and
told me what they meant to do; and I looked at them with great respect.
These men were as good gentlemen, in the conventional sense of the word,
as any with whom we associate in England--I daresay, de facto, much
better than many of them. They showed me some moa bones which they had
ploughed up (the moa, as you doubtless know, was an enormous bird, which
must have stood some fifteen feet high), also some stone Maori battle-
axes. They bought this land two years ago, and assured me that, even
though they had not touched it, they could get for it cent per cent upon
the price which they then gave.