Kitobni o'qish: «Maori and Settler: A Story of The New Zealand War»
CHAPTER I
A HOME BROKEN UP
WELL, mother, one thing is certain – something has got to be done. It is no use crying over spilt milk, that I can see. It is a horribly bad business, but grieving over it won't make it any better. What one has got to do is to decide on some plan or other, and then set to work to carry it out."
The speaker, Wilfrid Renshaw, was a boy between fifteen and sixteen years old. He was standing with his back to an empty fireplace, his feet well apart, his hands deep in his pockets. He was rather short for his age, but very squarely built. His hair was dark, cut rather short, and so ruffled over his head that there were no signs of a parting; his eyebrows were heavy, his eyes bright but rather deeply set; his chin was square and his jaw heavy; his nose was a little upturned, and this together with his eyes gave a merry expression to a face that would otherwise have been heavy and stern.
At school Wilfrid Renshaw had been regarded as rather a queer fellow. He was full of quiet fun, and saw a humorous side in everything. He did not take a very leading part in the various school sports, though there was a general idea that if Renshaw only chose to exert himself he could excel in any of them. In point of actual strength, although there were several boys in the school older than himself, it was generally admitted that he was by far the strongest there. But he always went his own way and always knew his own mind, and when he had once given his decision every one knew that it was of no use attempting to alter it; indeed, his reputation for obstinacy was so great that when he had once said "I won't" or "I will," no one ever attempted to argue with him.
He was given to long walks and to collecting insects or flowers. He could never be persuaded to make one of the cricket eleven; but in winter, when there was little scope for his favourite pursuit, he threw himself into football; and although he absolutely refused to accept the captaincy when unanimously elected to that honour, he was considered by far the most valuable member of the team. He was scarcely popular among the boys of his own age; for although his fun and general good temper were appreciated by them, his determination to go his own way, and his entire disregard for the opinion of others, caused him to be considered an unsociable sort of fellow, an impression increased by the fact that he had no particular chums.
Among the smaller boys he was greatly liked. He would never allow any bullying when he was present; and although his interference was often resented by some of the elders, his reputation for strength and obstinacy was so great that he had never been called upon to take active measures to support his decisively expressed opinions. His father lived in a pretty house a quarter of a mile outside Reading; and as Wilfrid attended the grammar-school there, he was much more free to indulge his own tastes and go his own way than if he had been in a boarding-school. His chief companion in his rambles was his only sister Marion, who was a year his senior, although strangers would not have taken her to be so, either from her appearance or manner. She had an active lithe figure, and was able to keep up with him even during his longest excursions. They were in fact great chums and allies, and Marion would have indignantly scouted the idea had anyone suggested to her that her brother was either obstinate or unsociable.
Mr. Renshaw had been intended for the bar, and had indeed been called to that profession; but shortly afterwards he came into a fortune at the death of his father, and at once abandoned all idea of practising. After travelling for a few years on the Continent and in the East, he married and settled down near Reading. His time was for the most part devoted to archæology. He had a rare collection of ancient British, Saxon, and Norman arms, ornaments, and remains of all sorts; had written several books on the antiquities of Berkshire and Oxfordshire; was an authority upon tumuli and stone weapons; and was regarded by his acquaintances as a man of much learning.
The management of the house and children, and indeed of all affairs unconnected with his favourite hobby, he left to his wife, who was, fortunately for him, a clear-headed and sensible woman. Mr. Renshaw was, in fact, an eminently impractical man, weak and easy in disposition, averse to exertion of any kind, and without a shadow of the decision of character that distinguished his son. Except when away upon antiquarian excursions he passed his time entirely in his own study, engaged upon a work which, he anticipated, would gain for him a very high position among the antiquarians of the country, the subject being the exact spot at which Julius Cæsar landed in Britain.
He made his appearance only at meal-times, and then paid but little attention to what was going on around him, although he was kind to his children in a gentle indifferent sort of way. For many years he had been engaged in making up his mind as to the school to which Wilfrid should be sent; and the boy had at first only been sent to the grammar-school at the suggestion of his mother as a temporary measure until the important decision should be arrived at. This had been six years before, and Mr. Renshaw had postponed his decision until it was too late for Wilfrid to enter at any of the great public schools.
Knowing from long experience what would be the result were he consulted as to Marion's education, Mrs. Renshaw had, when the girl was nine years old, engaged a governess for her without any previous consultation with her husband, simply telling him of the arrangement after it was concluded, saying: "I know, Alfred, that you have not yet decided whether an education at home or at school is best for a girl, and I have consequently arranged with a young lady to come as governess until you can come to a conclusion upon the point."
Wilfrid Renshaw was extremely fond of his mother. His father he regarded with a somewhat contemptuous kind of affection. He did not doubt that he was a very learned man, but he had small patience with his inability to make up his mind, his total want of energy, and his habit of leaving everything for his wife to decide upon and carry out.
"It would do father an immense deal of good if something were to happen that would wake him up a bit and get him to take an interest in things," he had said over and over again to Marion. "I cannot understand a man having no opinion of his own about anything."
"I do not think you ought to speak in that sort of way, Wil, about father."
"Oh, that is all nonsense, Marion. One cannot be blind about a person even if he is one's own father. Of course he is very kind and very indulgent, but it would be very much pleasanter if he were so because he wished to give us pleasure, instead of because it is the easiest thing to do. I should be downright pleased if sometimes when I ask him for anything he would say positively I could not have it."
Now the something that Wilfrid had hoped might occur to rouse his father had taken place, and had come in a form very unpleasantly violent and unexpected. The papers a week before had brought the news of the failure of the bank in which the greater portion of Mr. Renshaw's property was invested, and a letter had the following morning been received from a brother of Mrs. Renshaw, who was also a shareholder in the bank, saying that the liabilities were very large, and that the shareholders would undoubtedly be called upon to pay even their last penny to make up the deficiency. This news had been confirmed, and there could be no doubt absolute ruin had fallen upon them.
Mr. Renshaw had been completely overwhelmed by the tidings, and had taken to his bed. Wilfrid's holidays had begun a few days before, and his mother at once acquainted him with the misfortune that had befallen them, and she now told him that the calls that would be made upon the shares would more than swallow up the rest of their fortune.
"There will be absolutely nothing remaining, Wilfrid, except a thousand pounds that I had at my marriage, and which were fortunately settled upon me. This cannot be touched. Everything else will have to go."
"Well, it's a bad business, mother. I will go for a walk and think it over. Marion, put on your hat and come out with me."
They had been for their walk – a long one, and he was now expressing the result at which they had arrived.
"One thing is certain – something has got to be done."
"Yes," Mrs. Renshaw replied with a faint smile. "The question is, What is it?"
"Well, mother, it is quite certain that we four cannot live on the interest of a thousand pounds unless we go into a hovel and live on bread and water."
"I quite see that, Wilfrid; but I am sure I do not see how we are to earn money. It is far too late for your father to go back to the bar now, and it might be years before he got a brief. At any rate, we could not afford to live in London till he does so. I have been thinking I might open a little school somewhere."
"No, mother, you are not going to take us all on to your shoulders. You have got to look after father; that will be a full share of the work, I am sure. Marion and I have been talking it over, and the only possible thing we can see is for us to emigrate."
"To emigrate!" Mrs. Renshaw repeated in astonishment. "Why, my dear boy, what should we be fit for in the colonies more than here?"
"A good deal, mother. A thousand pounds is nothing here, and it would be a good deal out there. It would be horrible to come down to live in a little cottage like working people here, after living like this; but it would be nothing out there. We could buy land for next to nothing in New Zealand, and could employ a couple of men to work with me to clear it and cultivate it; and get a few cows and sheep to start with, and still have a little money in hand. You and Marion could look after things indoors; I should look after things out of doors."
"You don't seem to count your father at all," Mrs. Renshaw said a little reproachfully.
"No, mother, I don't," Wilfrid said bluntly. "You know as well as I do that father would be of no use to speak of in a life like that. Still, I think he could make himself happy out there as well as here. He could take all his books with him, and could inquire into the manners and customs of the natives, who are every bit as good as the ancient Britons; better, I should say. But whatever we do, mother, whether it is here or anywhere else, we must settle upon it and do it. Of course we must consult him; but we must quite make up our minds before we do so. If you wait a few weeks for father to make up his mind what we had better do, we shall wait till this thousand pounds is spent and there is nothing to do but to go into the workhouse.
"I am sure that my plan is the best for us. I am as strong as a great many men; and anyhow, out there, there ought to be no fear about our keeping ourselves. I have no doubt that when we get out there father will be able to help in many ways, though I do not know at present what they are. Anyhow, we shall have a house to live in, even if it is only a log hut, and I have no doubt have plenty to eat and drink; and that is more than we shall do if we stay here. I could not earn anything to speak of here: the most I could expect to get would be ten shillings a week as an office-boy. And as to your idea of a school, you might be years before you got pupils; and, besides, when there are two men in a family it would be shameful to depend upon a woman to keep them."
"Why do you think of New Zealand more than Canada, Wil?"
"Because, in the first place, the climate is a great deal pleasanter, and, in the second place, I believe that as the passage-money is higher the emigrants are of a better class, and we are likely to have more pleasant neighbours – people that you and father can associate with – than we should have if we went to a backwood clearing in Canada. Tom Fairfax has an uncle in New Zealand, and I have heard him say there are lots of officers in the army and people of that sort who have settled there. Of course I know it is going to be hard work, and that it will be very rough for you and father when we land at first, but I expect it will be better after a time; and anyhow, mother, I do not think we can starve there, and I feel sure that it will come to that if we stop here. At any rate, you had better think it over.
"Of course if you hit on anything better I shall be ready to agree at once; but whatever it is we must quite make up our minds together and then tell father. But when we do tell him we shall have to say that we are quite convinced that the plan we have fixed on is the only one that offers a hope of success. Of course I do not expect that he will see it as we do, but if we put it that if he can suggest anything better to be done we will set about it at once, I think he's pretty certain to let things go on as we arrange. I do not mean to speak disrespectfully of father," he went on seeing that his mother's face was a little clouded "but you know, mother, that people who are learned, scientific, and all that sort of thing are very often bad hands at everyday matters. Sir Isaac Newton, and lots of other fellows I have read about, were like that; and though father is a splendid hand at anything to do with the Britons or Danes, and can tell you the story of every old ruin in the kingdom, he is no good about practical matters. So that we take all the trouble off his hands, I think he will be quite ready to agree to do whatever you think is the best. At any rate, mother, I think my plan is well worth thinking over, and the sooner we make up our minds the better; after all it is a great thing having something to look forward to and plan about."
Three or four days later Mrs. Renshaw told Wilfrid that think as she would she could see no better plan for utilizing her little capital than for them to emigrate.
"It is putting great responsibility on your shoulders, my boy," she said; "for I do not disguise from myself that it is upon you that we must principally depend. Still you will be sixteen by the time we can arrive there, and I think we should be able to manage. Besides, as you say, we can hire a man or two to help, and shall have some money to fall back upon until things begin to pay. There are plenty of women who manage even without the assistance of a son, and I do not know why I should not be able to get on with you and Marion to help me, especially as farming is a comparatively simple business, in a new country. At any rate, as you say, with two or three cows and plenty of ducks and hens, and what we can grow on the ground, there will be no fear of our starving."
The next day Mr. Renshaw came downstairs for the first time since he had heard of the misfortune. He had received a letter that morning saying that a call was at once to be made on each shareholder for the amount still standing on each share, and this sum was in itself more than he could meet even after the sale of his house and its contents. He was in a state of profound depression. He had, while upstairs, been endeavouring to think of some means of supporting his family, but had been wholly unable to think of any plan whatever. He knew that at his age he should find it next to impossible to obtain employment, even as a clerk at the lowest salary; his knowledge of archæology would be absolutely useless to him, for the books he had already published had not even paid the expenses of printing.
Few words were spoken at breakfast, but when the meal was finished Mrs. Renshaw began: "My dear Alfred, Wilfrid and I have been talking over what we had better do under the circumstances. I have told him that the failure of the bank involves the loss of all our property, that the house will have to be sold, and that, in fact, there remains nothing but the thousand pounds of my settlement. We have talked it over in every light, and have quite arrived at the conclusion as to what we think the best thing to be done if you see matters in the same light and will consent to our plan. I had at first thought of starting a little school."
"I would never agree to that," Mr. Renshaw said; "never. I must do something, my dear, though I have not made up my mind in what direction. But whatever it is, it is for me to work, and not for you."
"Well, we have already given up the idea," Mrs. Renshaw went on. "Wilfrid was sure that you would not like it, and, as he pointed out, the money might be spent before I could obtain sufficient pupils to pay. Besides, he is anxious to be of use; but the difficulty struck us of obtaining any kind of remunerative work here."
"That is what I have been thinking," Mr. Renshaw said. "I shall be willing to work at anything in my power, but I don't see what possible work I can get."
"Quite so, my dear. In this country it is of course terribly difficult for anyone to get employment unless he has been trained in some particular line, therefore Wil and I are agreed that the very best plan, indeed the only plan we can think of, is for us to go out to a new country. My little money will take us to New Zealand, buy a good-sized piece of land there, and suffice to enable us to clear it and stock it to some extent. The life will no doubt be rough for us all for a time; but none of us will care for that, and at any rate we are sure to be able to keep the wolf from the door."
"To New Zealand!" Mr. Renshaw repeated aghast. "That is a terrible undertaking. Besides, I know nothing whatever about farming, and I fear that I am quite unfit for hard work."
"I do not think it will be at all necessary for you to work yourself, Alfred. Of course we can hire men there just as we can in England. I believe the natives are willing to work at very low rates of pay, so we need have no difficulty on that score. Wilfrid is growing up now, and will soon be able to relieve you of all responsibility, and then you will be able to devote yourself to your favourite studies; and I should think that a book from your hand upon native manners and customs would be sure to be a great success. Accustomed as you are to tracing things up from small remains, and with your knowledge of primitive peoples, your work would be very different from those written by men without any previous acquaintance with such matters."
"The idea certainly pleases me," Mr. Renshaw said; "but, of course, I shall want time to think over your startling proposal, Helen."
"Of course, my dear. In the meantime we will go on packing up and preparing to move at once from here, as you say that there must be a sale of everything; then you can think the matter over, and if you decide upon any better scheme than ours we can carry that out. If not, we shall be ready to put ours into execution."
The next month was a busy one. There was great sympathy evinced by all the Renshaw's neighbours and acquaintances when it was heard that their whole fortune was swept away by the failure of the bank. There were farewell visits to be paid, not only to these, but to their poorer neighbours. In answer to inquiries as to their plans, Mr. Renshaw always replied that at present nothing whatever was settled. Mrs. Renshaw hinted that, although their plans were not definitely fixed, she thought it probable that they would go abroad; while Wilfrid and Marion both informed their friends confidently that they were going to New Zealand.
The work of packing went on. A few articles of furniture that were special favourites with them all were packed up and sent to be warehoused in London, in order that they might some day be forwarded to them when they had made themselves a home; but nothing else was taken beyond their clothes, a good selection of books for their general reading, a large box of those which Mr. Renshaw declared absolutely indispensable to himself, and a few nick-nacks specially prized. Everything else was handed over for sale for the benefit of the creditors of the bank. During these weeks Mr. Renshaw continued to speak as if he regarded the New Zealand project as wholly impracticable, and on each occasion when he did so his wife replied cheerfully: "Well, my dear, we are in no way wedded to it, and are quite ready to give it up and adopt any plan you may decide upon. The matter is entirely in your hands."
But Mr. Renshaw could hit upon no other scheme; and, indeed, his wife's suggestion as to a book on the natives of New Zealand had much taken his fancy. Certainly he, a trained antiquarian, should be able to produce a book upon such a subject that would be of vastly greater value than those written by settlers and others having no training whatever that would qualify them for such work. It was probable that he should be able to throw some entirely new light upon the origin and history of the Maoris or natives of New Zealand, and that his book would greatly add to his reputation, and would sell well. Really the idea was not such a very bad one, and, for himself, he should certainly prefer a life in a new country to shabby lodgings in some out-of-the-way place, after having for so many years been a personage of importance in his own neighbourhood.
"I see one great objection to your scheme, Helen, and that is that there is a war going on with the Maoris."
"I know there is," Mrs. Renshaw, who had talked the matter over with Wilfrid, replied; "but it is confined to two or three of the tribes, and the settlers in other parts have been in no way disturbed. The troops have taken most of their strongholds, and the troubles are considered to be approaching an end; therefore I do not think there is any occasion to be uneasy on that score. Besides, in some respects the trouble will be advantageous, as we should probably be able to buy land cheaper than we otherwise should have done, and the land will rapidly rise in value again when the disturbances are over. But, of course, we should not go to the disturbed districts. These are round Auckland and New Plymouth, and the troubles are confined to the tribes there. Everything is perfectly peaceable along the other parts of the coast."
It was not until two or three days before the move was to be made from the house that Mrs. Renshaw recurred to the subject.
"You have not said yet, Alfred, what plans you have decided upon. As we shall leave here in three days it is quite time that we made up our minds about it, as, of course, our movements must depend on your decision. If you have fixed upon any place for us to settle down in, it would be cheaper for us to move there at once instead of wasting money by going up to London first. Another reason I have for asking is, that Robert and William Grimstone, the gardener's sons, who have got an idea from something Wilfrid said to them that we might be going abroad, have asked him to ask you if you would take them with you. They have been working in the garden under their father for the last two or three years, and are strong active young fellows of nineteen and twenty. As their father has worked here ever since we came, and we have known the young fellows since they were children, such an arrangement would have been a very pleasant one had you liked my plan of emigrating, as it would have been much more agreeable having two young fellows we knew with us instead of strangers. Of course I told Wilfrid to tell them that nothing whatever was settled, and that our plans were not in any way formed, and that they had better, therefore, look out for situations about here, and that I was sure you would give them good letters of recommendation."
Mr. Renshaw was silent. "I really do not see that there is any occasion to come to a decision in a hurry," he said irritably.
"Not in a hurry, Alfred," his wife said quietly. "You see, we have had a month to think it over, and I do not see that we shall be more likely to settle upon an advantageous scheme at the end of six months than we are now. From the day we leave here and hand over everything to the receiver of the bank we shall be drawing on our little capital, and every pound is of importance. I think, therefore, Alfred, that you and I should make up our minds before we leave here as to what course we are going to adopt. As I have said, I myself see no scheme by which we are likely to be able to maintain ourselves in England, even in a very humble way. A life in the colonies would, to me, be very much more pleasant than the struggle to make ends meet here.
"It would afford an opening for Wilfrid, and be vastly more advantageous for him than anything we should hope to get for him here; and I think it will be far better for Marion too. Of course, if we decided to emigrate, we could, should you prefer it, go to Canada, Australia, or the United States in preference to New Zealand. I only incline to New Zealand because I have heard that there is a larger proportion of officers and gentlemen there than in other colonies, and because I believe that the climate is a particularly pleasant one. But, of course, this is merely a suggestion at present, and it is for you to decide."
"If we are to emigrate at all," Mr. Renshaw replied, "I should certainly prefer New Zealand myself. The Maoris are a most interesting people. Their origin is a matter of doubt, their customs and religion are peculiar, and I have no doubt that I should, after studying them, be able to throw much new and valuable light upon the subject. Personally, I am sure that I am in no way fitted for the life of a settler. I know nothing of farming, and could neither drive a plough nor wield an axe; but if I could make the native subject my own, I might probably be able to do my share towards our expenses by my books, while Wilfrid could look after the men. The offer of these two young fellows to go with us has removed several of my objections to the plan, and I agree with you that it would be more advantageous for Wilfrid and Marion than to be living in wretched lodgings. Therefore, my dear, I have decided to fall in with your plan, and only hope that it will turn out as well as you seem to expect. It will be a great change and a great trial; but since you seem to have set your heart upon it, I am willing to adopt your plans instead of my own, and we will therefore consider it settled that we will go to New Zealand."
Mrs. Renshaw was too wise a woman to point out that her husband had not, so far as she was aware, any plans whatever of his own, and she contented herself by saying quietly: "I am glad you have decided so, my dear. I do think it is the best thing for us all, and I am quite sure it is the best for Wilfrid and Marion. If it had not been for them I should have said let us take a tiny cottage near some town where I might add to our income by giving lessons in music or other things, and you might have the companionship of people of your own tastes; but, being as it is, I think it far better to give them a start in a new country, although I know that such a life as we shall lead there must entail, at any rate at first, some hardships, and the loss of much to which we have been accustomed."
Wilfrid and Marion were delighted when they heard from their mother that the matter was settled. Both had had great hopes that Wilfrid's scheme would be finally accepted, as there did not seem any other plan that was possible. Still Wilfrid knew the difficulty that his father would have in making up his mind, and feared there might be a long delay before he could bring himself to accept the plan proposed to him. Mrs. Renshaw, who was a good business woman, lost no time in arranging with Robert and William Grimstone as to their accompanying them. Their passage-money was to be paid, and they were to bind themselves to remain for three years in Mr. Renshaw's service on wages similar to those they would have obtained at home; after that, they were to be paid whatever might be the colonial rate of wages.
The excitement that the prospect of emigration caused to the young people lessened their pain at leaving the house where they had been born and brought up, with all its pleasant associations and material comforts. It was, however, very trying to them when they bade good-bye for the last time to their surroundings and shook hands with their old servants.
"If ever we get rich in New Zealand, father," Wilfrid said, "we will come back and buy the house again."
Mr. Renshaw shook his head. Just at present he was disposed to regard himself as a martyr, and considered that he had made an unprecedented sacrifice of his own wishes and comforts for the sake of his children, and that no good could be expected to arise from the plan to which he had consented. A good many friends had gathered at the station to say good-bye, and it was some time after the train had started on its way to London before any of the party felt themselves inclined to speak.
On arriving in town they went at once to lodgings they had engaged in Eastbourne Terrace, facing the station. Once settled there, no time was lost in making preparations for their voyage. The files of the advertisements had already been searched and the names of the vessels sailing for New Zealand and the addresses of their owners noted, and after paying a visit to several shipping offices the choice of vessels remained at last between the Flying Scud and the Mayflower. They were vessels of about the same size, both bore a good reputation as sailers, and they heard excellent accounts of the captains who commanded them.
The Mayflower was to sail direct to Wellington round the Cape. The Flying Scud was taking in cargo for Rio and Buenos-Ayres, and would proceed thence via Cape Horn. Her rates of passage were somewhat lower than those of the Mayflower, as the route via the Cape of Good Hope was that more generally used, and the number of passengers who had secured berths by her were very much smaller than those who intended to travel by the Mayflower. It was this that principally decided them in choosing the western route; Mr. Renshaw was in a depressed and nervous state, and his wife considered that he would be far more comfortable with a comparatively small number of fellow-passengers than in a crowded ship.
