The Family Council

At almost eight-thirty that evening, Francis and his parents entered the large, plainly furnished living room. They looked at each other with unseeing eyes, almost as strangers meeting for the first time. The living room had been furnished mainly by gifts of unwanted furniture from Alexander’s mother and others from Sarah’s parents.

Across one corner stood an old chaise lounge, the type with a high back and pretty little turned pegs along the back. It was covered in a faded green plush. To one side was a most ornately carved walnut sideboard with a very high mirrored back. Several low chairs with cabriole legs and buttoned plush backs were scattered about, while in central position was the large extension table. About the room and on the walls were numerous indefinable knick-knacks. On the long table stood a kerosene lamp shedding a lovely soft glow, hiding the worn and shabby furniture about the room. The silence was broken by the sound of the grandfather clock near the door as it chimed the half hour.

They sat close to one end of the table. Alexander spread some papers and charts in front of him slowly before he spoke. The other two sat with hands clasped just waiting. He began by repeating Mr Kerland’s words of the advantages it would be to all of them, finishing with a few words about delicate little William and the good the climate could do for him. It was his last comment that made an impression on Sarah.

He also continued about each of the boys being able to have his own land and many more things he believed. But Sarah didn’t hear — it was still of William she was thinking. The one-sided discussion lasted well on into the night, during which time, young Francis sat filled with excitement listening to every word and watching for the effect it had on his mother.

Suddenly Papa turned to him, “Well, and what do you think of this plan of yours now? Are you happy to go on this journey to the other side of the world to take up farming?” “Wonderful, Papa,” came the reply. He appeared more convinced than ever. He went on, “And I know Mama has already decided for it too, haven’t you, Mama?”

Sarah’s mind was still on her little boy who at three years could only totter about, while his sister, only two years older, was quite a mature child. Of course, her mind was made up, although she didn’t as yet admit it. What her husband decided was best was final — but apart from that, she did believe if they could get to this land of sunshine, they would all benefit.

Then it was Francis who addressed her, hoping his words would help her decide to go. “You would have Papa and me to help you on the voyage to New Zealand. John McRehan was telling me about his aunt and uncle who, with their three children, emigrated to New Zealand last year. They had a long letter the other day telling them what a wonderful country it is. John says as soon as he is old enough, he intends to go too.”

“Yes, perhaps,” answered Sarah. “But what about the long hazardous voyage out, and how would the little ones fare?” She related the stories she had read and been told of the terrible storms at sea, and even the loss of vessels which broke up completely. “And isn’t it true that the Māori in New Zealand are cannibals?”

“No, Mama,” came Francis’s answer, “that is not quite true. They used to be, but that is all changed now. There are missionaries and fine churches, even schools. The Māori are a fine brown-skinned race who are very friendly and love to work with the new settlers. I believe they work hard too.”

With that, Francis lapsed into silence and Papa carried on. “Francis is right, you know,” he said. “I have met and talked with many people who have relations and friends out there, and none would be willing to give up what they have in New Zealand to come back here to live. Come now, Sarah,” he said. “We want your sincere thoughts. What have you been thinking all this time?”

That was how the conversation had gone on that night when so much was at stake for all of them. The answer had come slowly and faltering. “Well Alex,” she stammered, as she searched for the right words. “Life has not been easy for any of us here. I think it is the foggy damp climate that caused our troubles, but I do not want to dwell on that. My answer is a definite yes. For better or worse, let us go. I have confidence in all that has been said in favour of going. Whatever the risks may be, I shall go — but please, Alex, don’t go yet for a while.”

Thus, Sarah had decided and, in no uncertain words, given them her direct answer before sitting quietly back for her husband to conclude.

“I am coming to a very important point now,” he had said as he turned to Francis. “I must make the purchase immediately and the land must be possessed within a reasonable time. We do not need to pay at once. The price of ten shillings per acre can be paid off after the land is cleared and working has begun. But now one of the important points of law:

Francis has always lived carefully and saved his money, and it was he who wanted to buy land and go out in the first place — but unfortunately this cannot be, as the law stands. He is a minor until the age of twenty-one and so cannot enter into such a deal. I have thought much about this and so have decided to sign the purchase papers. Francis will go on out and, with his money, make a start cultivating the land. I will pay off the Land Company from here. Francis can find out the conditions and let us know. By the time we arrive, he will have a home and begun bringing in the land, and as soon as he is twenty-one, I will pay him out and he can buy his own land.

But we are not finished yet.”

He hesitated because he was about to discuss a relative — in fact his own brother — with whom they had very little contact. A deep disagreement over a number of years had never been cleared up, and now what he was about to suggest could offend Sarah.

“I have been in contact with my brother Francis, because I knew he had been interested in going to New Zealand to take up land. It appears he has decided to go, taking Emma and the children, Harriet, Francis, and Felicia, with arrangements to leave on the Bernicia in two months’ time. Now Francis could go with him. Once there, he can take up possession and begin farming at once. My brother and family are to take up land further north, in the Taranaki area.”

“I have made a study of the available land and would like ours to be here at Wellington, a point of shipping. This chart shows more clearly the blocks that are being sold at the present time. This is where the ships make port and it could be a great advantage to be near the port of arrival. However, the final choice will be up to Francis when he arrives.”

“There is another large block of land here around Whanganui, but this could bring difficulties, as everything has to be trans-shipped from a port of call for bigger ships. I believe also there is a large Māori population there. That thought should not worry us, as there are churches and missionaries already there and schooling for the children has not been entirely neglected. Most of the mission houses are also the school.”

That was Alexander’s longest and last say to his family on the business. From then, he sat back and listened to the points of view of the others, adding no more than a few words here and there.