Station Life in New Zealand | Page 8

seven or eight miles, was disagreeable enough; but it was the end, and
that one thought was sufficient to keep us radiantly good-humoured, in
spite of all little trials. When we reached Christchurch, we drove at
once to a sort of boarding-house where we had engaged apartments,
and thought of nothing but supper and bed.
The next day people began calling, and certainly I cannot complain of
any coldness or want of welcome to my new home. I like what I have
seen of my future acquaintances very much. Of course there is a very
practical style and tone over everything, though outwardly the place is
as civilized as if it were a hundred years old; well-paved streets, gas
lamps, and even drinking fountains and pillar post-offices! I often find
myself wondering whether the ladies here are at all like what our great
grandmothers were. I suspect they are, for they appear to possess an
amount of useful practical knowledge which is quite astonishing, and
yet know how to surround themselves, according to their means and
opportunities, with the refinements and elegancies of life. I feel quite
ashamed of my own utter ignorance on every subject, and am
determined to set to work directly and learn: at all events I shall have
plenty of instructresses. Christchurch is a very pretty little town, still
primitive enough to be picturesque, and yet very thriving: capital shops,
where everything may be bought; churches, public buildings, a very
handsome club-house, etc. Most of the houses are of wood, but when
they are burned down (which is often the case) they are now rebuilt of
brick or stone, so that the new ones are nearly all of these more solid
materials. I am disappointed to find that, the cathedral, of which I had
heard so much, has not progressed beyond the foundations, which cost
8,000 pounds: all the works have been stopped, and certainly there is
not much to show for so large a sum, but labour is very dear.
Christchurch is a great deal more lively and bustling than most English
country towns, and I am much struck by the healthy appearance of the
people. There are no paupers to be seen; every one seems well fed and
well clothed; the children are really splendid. Of course, as might be
expected, there is a great deal of independence in bearing and manner,

especially among the servants, and I hear astounding stories concerning
them on all sides. My next letter will be from the country, as we have
accepted an invitation to pay a visit of six weeks or so to a station in the
north of the province.

Letter IV: First introduction to "Station life."
Heathstock, Canterbury, November 13th, 1865. I have just had the
happiness of receiving my first budget of English letters; and no one
can imagine how a satisfactory home letter satisfies the hunger of the
heart after its loved and left ones. Your letter was particularly pleasant,
because I could perceive, as I held the paper in my hands, that you were
writing as you really felt, and that you were indeed happy. May you
long continue so, dearest.
F--- says that this beautiful place will give me a very erroneous
impression of station life, and that I shall probably expect to find its
comforts and luxuries the rule, whereas they are the exception; in the
mean time, however, I am enjoying them thoroughly. The house is only
sixty-five miles from Christchurch, nearly due north (which you must
not forget answers to your south in point of warmth). Our kind friends
and hosts, the L---s, called for us in their comfortable and large break,
with four horses. Mr. L--- drove, F--- sat on the box, and inside were
the ladies, children, and a nurse. Our first stage was to Kaiapoi, a little
town on the river Waimakiriri, where we had a good luncheon of
whitebait, and rested and fed the horses. From the window of the hotel
I saw a few groups of Maories; they looked very ugly and peaceable,
with a rude sort of basket made of flax fibres, or buckets filled with
whitebait, which they wanted us to buy. There are some reserved lands
near Kaiapoi where they have a very thriving settlement, living in
perfect peace and good-will with their white neighbours. When we set
off again on our journey, we passed a little school-house for their
children.
We reached Leathfield that evening, only twenty-five miles from
Christchurch; found a nice inn, or accommodation-house, as roadside

inns are called here; had a capital supper and comfortable beds, and
were up and off again at daylight the next morning. As far as the Weka
Pass, where we stopped for dinner, the roads were very good, but after
that we