Part 2 (1/2)

I do not know that I have any right to say anything about New Zealand, seeing that I was only three days upon the North Island. I had indeed intended to have paid a proper visit. I had intended seeing the famous pink and white terraces (now alas!

destroyed), and the rest of the lake district; and at various places I had a good many introductions from friends. But the force of circ.u.mstances--sometimes said to be another name for weakness of will--intervened, and my fine schemes ended ingloriously in a flying visit to Auckland, on a business matter.

I have before alluded to the excellent steamers of the Union S.S.

Co., of New Zealand. This Company appears to have a monopoly of the trade between Australia and New Zealand, and if their steamers continue as they now are there is not much reason to fear compet.i.tion. They start from Melbourne, call at Hobart, run across to the South of the island of New Zealand, then, calling at the princ.i.p.al ports along the whole length of the east coast of the two islands till they reach Auckland, they steam straight across to Sydney. The same journey is made back again from Sydney to Melbourne. The route is sometimes varied, but this is the usual course. The names of their steamers are from lakes in New Zealand, Tarawera, Wairarapa, Te Anau, &c., while the steamers of the New Zealand s.h.i.+pping Co. are named from mountains, as Tongariro, Aorangi, Rimutaka, &c. On the day that I had arranged to leave Hobart by the Union line for New Zealand, it happened that one of the New Zealand Co.'s steamers called in for coal, and as this steamer--a fine vessel of 4,000 tons--was going direct to Auckland it suited me much better. She had come round the Cape, thus avoiding the heat of the Suez Ca.n.a.l. This is a monthly service direct to New Zealand. The Shaw Savill and Albion Line also has a monthly service, so that every fortnight there is a steamer direct from England arriving in New Zealand. The sea was smooth, and consequently the pa.s.sage was quick. On the morning of the third day we pa.s.sed the Snares Rocks, to the south of Stewart's Island. On the fifth, the snowy sides of the Kaikoura mountains were glittering in the morning sun as we pa.s.sed a few miles from sh.o.r.e, and about 4 o'clock on the morning of the eighth day, we were alongside the wharf in the s.p.a.cious harbour of Auckland. Close by, my eye was caught by the ”Ohau,” a small steamer, which, as it happened, I had seen launched about nine months previously at Dumbarton--little expecting to see it again.

It is doubtful whether New Zealand belongs geographically to Australia or to the Pacific Islands. It is said that some shocks of earthquake in New Zealand have been felt in Tasmania. On the other hand there is above a thousand miles of rough sea between Australia and New Zealand, with no connecting islands between, and nature presents quite a different aspect in the two countries. The gum tree is the princ.i.p.al tree on the Australian continent, the Kauri pine in New Zealand. In the latter country there are no kangaroos, no emus, no snakes, in fact very few indigenous animals. The bones of a gigantic bird, the moa, are to be found, but the bird itself has long been extinct. Every variety of climate and scenery may be found in New Zealand. The winter of the South Island is as rigorous as that of England, while the North Island nearly reaches the tropics.

In the North Island are the famous hot lakes; in the South the very lofty range of mountains known as the Southern Alps, which attains a height of 13,000 feet in Mount Cook. The scenery on the South-west coast, from Milford Sound downwards, where the sea runs up many miles into the land, and the steamer pa.s.ses through narrow straits between perpendicular walls of rock, has often been compared to that of the wilder fiords of Norway. It is little more than forty years since New Zealand was colonized by Europeans, but already shoals of books have been written about it. The Maoris, as is well known, are not the original inhabitants. Their traditions relate--and they are confirmed by independent investigations--that they came about 400 years ago from the South Sea Islands, and drove out or exterminated the natives. As a fact the Maoris are immeasurably superior to the Australian natives. Captain Cook, in describing his landing in 1769, says, ”one of the natives raised his spear, as if to dart it at the boat; the c.o.xswain fired, and shot him dead,”--a melancholy omen of the future relations between the natives and the strangers. The Maori wars have cost us many lives, but, of course, have always had the same ending. The natives have gradually been straitened in room, and their numbers have steadily declined. It is true that the census of 1881 shows a rather larger number of natives (44,000 odd) than in 1858, but in the latter year it was probably not so accurately made, and there is little doubt that they are now rapidly diminis.h.i.+ng.

They are nearly all in the North Island, in the neighbourhood of the Hot Lake district. The portion specially alloted to them is called the King Country, and no European may enter this without permission.

Thus they have prevented the ascent of Mount Tongariro, which is _tapu_, or sacred. They are now much better treated than formerly, and send four members to Parliament. In their language there is no _s_ or _f_, vowels are very numerous, and every word ends with a vowel. The sound of the words, therefore, is easy and flowing, and the native names are far more euphonious than those of Australia.

There is already a good deal of literature about the Maoris, their habits and customs and religious ideas. No doubt they are of the widely-spread Malay race, which has over-run the South Pacific. The religious notions of the most different races in a certain stage of civilization much resemble one another. We know, for instance, that the Greeks of Homer's time (whatever that was) besides wors.h.i.+pping the G.o.ds of Olympus, identified every ruin, mountain, or cape with some superhuman person--whether demon, or hero, or nymph. So we read (in Wakefield's adventures in New Zealand) that the chief Heu-Heu appeals to his ancestor the great mountain Tongariro, ”I am the Heu-Heu, and rule over you all just as my ancestor, Tongariro, the mountain of Snow, stands above all this land.” Heu-Heu refused permission to anyone to ascend the mountain, on the ground that it was his _tipuna_ or ancestor,--”he constantly identified himself with the mountain, and called it his sacred ancestor.” The mountains in New Zealand are accounted by the natives male and female.

Tarawera and Taranaki, two male mountains, once quarrelled about the affections of a small volcanic female mountain in the neighbourhood.

A great deal about the transactions between the New Zealand Government and the natives may be learnt from the recent interesting libel action of _Bryce_ v. _Rusden_, in which the former, who has been native minister in the Government, recovered 5000 damages against the defendant, the author of a History of New Zealand. Up to 1876 the islands were divided into nine provinces, each of which had a separate Council, subject to the central Government at Wellington, but in that year the provincial Councils were abolished, and the Government is now like that of the Australian Colonies, with a governor and two houses of Parliament. The members of the Lower House are paid. In ”Greater Britain,” Sir Charles Dilke, making a contrast between New Zealand and Australia, suggests that New Zealand is aristocratic and Australia democratic. To me they appeared equally democratic. The payment of members is an advanced step even in a democracy.

Auckland is by far the largest town in the North Island, with its suburbs, now containing nearly 50,000 inhabitants. Up to 1864 it was also the seat of Government, but that was then moved to Wellington as being a more central town. There is much rivalry between Auckland and Dunedin, the largest town in the South Island. Dunedin is the capital of the pro-provincial district of Otago, which is chiefly inhabited by Scotch, or people of Scotch descent. The Scotch have the great merit of sticking to their friends. If there is anything to be done or gained, a Scotchman naturally gets the preference. I heard an amusing ill.u.s.tration of this on the way to New Zealand. At one of the ports in Otago a steamer required new boilers, and tenders were asked for. One was much lower than the others, and was accepted. The name of the contractor appeared to be Macpherson, but when sent for he turned out to be a Chinaman. He had been shrewd enough to see that he had no chance of getting the work in his own name. The total population of New Zealand is a little over 500,000, and the public debt is about 37,000,000. This seems to show that taxation must be high. A good deal of this large amount has, it is true, been expended on railways, which all belong to the State, and therefore the burden, though heavy, is not quite so heavy as it appears at first sight. A friend at Auckland told me that New Zealand is a paradise for working-men and for men with capital, who can safely lend it at a high rate of interest. It is probably, too, a capital place for domestic servants, who everywhere in the Colonies seem to have pretty much their own way. I have also heard that dentists are much in request. A lady, living near Auckland, had to drive twelve miles, and then put her name down in a book three weeks beforehand, to see the dentist! But for people who want to find something to do, and have no money and no manual skill, the prospect is not so smiling. For instance, I should not imagine that teaching is a lucrative pursuit--private teaching that is to say, for in public teaching the supply is in excess of the demand, and, no doubt, rightly so, in a young community. New Zealand annually spends on education 500,000, or 1 per head of the population, a higher proportion than is spent by any other country. Formerly there was the University of Otago and the University of New Zealand, but the former has now ceased to have the power of conferring degrees, and has been virtually amalgamated with the University of New Zealand. This University has affiliated colleges at Auckland, Wellington, Christchurch, and Dunedin, though the latter is still styled the University of Otago. Each of these colleges has a staff of highly-paid professors, with not much to do as yet in the strict line of business, to judge by the number of students. But of course the taste for advanced education has to be created before it can be much in request. The salaries are large enough to tempt over some of the best men from England, but a professor is expected to come out as a public man much more here than at home. He is expected to deliver a course of lectures in public, to entertain socially, and to interest himself in local affairs. At Auckland they boasted that on their School Board they had a Senior Cla.s.sic and a Senior Wrangler.

Auckland is, as I said, the only town I actually visited in New Zealand. Of the town itself there is not much to be said. It is not particularly interesting, and the climate is rather relaxing; when it rains the roads are almost impa.s.sable with mud. But its situation is most charming from its beauty, and most advantageous for trade.

The harbour of Auckland is thought by some to rival that of Sydney for beauty and commodiousness. From the summit of Mount Eden, an extinct volcano, with a perfectly formed crater (its extinction, however, does not appear so certain, after the recent experience of Mount Tarawera, which was thought to be equally extinct), an extensive view of Auckland and the two seas is to be obtained. For at this point the North Island is so narrow, that Manukau harbour on the west side comes close up to Auckland, and at one point the distance across is only a mile and a half. There has been a project mooted to cut through the narrow isthmus, and thus lessen the journey to Sydney by about 300 miles, but all the harbours of New Zealand lie towards the Pacific, not towards Australia, and there is a formidable bar at the entrance to Manukau harbour, so that after all the expense would probably be too great. Auckland is on the direct track for steamers from San Francisco to Sydney, and up to last year there was a regular service of three steamers, once a month--I forget the name of the line. Many went by this route, as the fare from Sydney to London this way is only 66, including the rail across America, but there were many complaints of the inferiority of the steamers. That line has now ceased, but the Union Line of New Zealand now run their steamers along the same route, and, I believe, have a subsidy from New Zealand and New South Wales for the mail service to America. It was by one of the steamers of the former line, the ”Zealandia,” that I left Auckland for Sydney on the 28th June. The voyage took five days over a calm sea, and was quite without incident. We were, however, enlivened by the presence of Mr. Dion Boucicault, the well-known playwright and actor, with his company, who were on their way to fulfil engagements in Melbourne and Sydney, after some years stay in America; we had many amusing, but highly-coloured anecdotes. Among them one alone, told by an actor who died sadly and suddenly at Melbourne a few weeks later, now remains in my memory. Some time previously he had been acting at Ottawa, and the play was Richard III. He was Richmond, and in reply to his speech the Duke of Norfolk says, ”Your words are fire, my lord, and warm our men.” On this occasion the army consisted of one man, one woman (dressed as a soldier) and a boy, and the very conscientious duke replied, ”Your words are fire, my lord, and warm our _man_.” I tell it as it was told me, but my friend must have made some mistake. These words do not occur in Shakespeare's Richard III. (though they may in the acting version) and at any rate there is no conversation between Richmond and the Duke of Norfolk.

On arrival at Sydney I made no stay, but returned to Melbourne the next day by steamer. However, I paid my visit of five weeks to Sydney a short time afterwards. This time I left Melbourne by the very fine steamer Buninyong, of 3000 tons, belonging to Howard, Smith & Co., I believe the largest of the Inter-Colonial Steamers.

After pa.s.sing Wilson's Promontory, the extreme South point of Victoria, and indeed of Australia, the coast is in sight the whole way. After about 54 hours we entered Sydney Heads. It was then twilight, and quite dark before we came alongside the wharf. The entrance to the Heads at Sydney is about a mile wide, but is scarcely seen before it is entered. The Cliffs on each side are several hundred feet high. The projecting points of the Cliff on the North side, when seen at a certain angle, made a good imitation of the Duke of Wellington's profile. A fast steamer from Melbourne takes about 48 hours, but then fast steamers are sometimes dangerous; most people have read of the terrible wrecks of the Cahors and the Lyeemoon, within a few months of each other, the two fastest steamers of the Australian Steam Navigation Co.; the latter wreck caused the loss of 70 lives. Both were the result of steering too close inland, to save an hour or two. To suspend or cancel a captain's certificate, or even to prosecute him, is a small consolation for such things as these. Moreover, when there is time to use the boats, they are too often found to be unseaworthy. The steamers themselves are inspected by the Marine Board, and certificates granted for 6 months, but the boats, though included in the certificate, are not separately examined. Being exposed to the hot sun day after day, they become very dry, and consequently leak when wanted for use. If the captain was bound to keep the boats seaworthy as distinct from the s.h.i.+p, he would be more careful to have them tested now and then. Mr. Wm. Smith, of Sydney, has recently invented a life-boat, which, it has been proved, cannot be upset. He has offered it freely to the Government, but owing to differences with some officials of the Marine Board, it has never received a fair trial at their hands. The recent loss of life at sea will not have been entirely useless, if it directs public attention to his most valuable invention. The harbour of Sydney has been often described, and I will not attempt to do so, especially as all descriptions of scenery are unsatisfactory. They seldom convey any definite impression, and a good photograph is better than any number of them. However, it disputes with that of Rio Janeiro, the name of the ”finest harbour in the world”--whatever that may mean exactly. In shape it somewhat resembles a huge octopus, the innumerable creeks and inlets branching out like so many feelers, yet there can scarcely be said to be a centre from which they radiate. Numberless steamers ply all day to various points, mostly starting from the ”Circular Quay,” the princ.i.p.al wharf of the city.