Wednesday 20 March 2019

Chapter 3

Harvey's flat 1868 to 1876
“From every height in wild survey
The Hills And Mountains spread away,
In wild confusion heaved and crossed,
Like Billows in the ocean tossed.”

The above lines by Donald Ferguson, in his poem “Otago” seem to give a very good 
description of this locality although they might refer to many other places in Central
Otago. In this year of 1946, the name “Harvey’s Flat” means little, or nothing to
95% of Otago's inhabitants.

Now it is only a memory of past, in the minds of surviving members of the Brenssell,
Cookson, Reid, Kempthorne, and some other families who lived there in the
years prior to 1880.
Motorists who use the Outram-Middlemarch road will know the “Harvey's
Flat” hill, as the steepest in that section of the highway.

The place got its name in the days prior to the Gold Rush of 1862, and was a
stopping place for drovers and others on the way to and from the stations
of Central Otago.

It was named very probably from some member of the Harvey family which has
lived in the vicinity of Outram and Woodside from the very early days. In fact,
there are still descendants of that family in the district,. Miss Janet Harvey
stayed at “Parkdale”, in the 1880’s.  I remember her quite well when I was a boy.

In visualising “Harvey's Flat” in the years 1868 to 1876 when the Kempthornes
live there, it is necessary to remember that the cutting up the hill from the
West Taieri Church was not then in existence, although it was being constructed.
The old road went up the hill just close to the Outram Township, and then
along the top of the ridge and continued straight up the hill above  Woodside,
and on to Waipori by what is known as The Old Road.

At the top of the cutting where the gum trees are, a branch of this road went
off at right angles to the Strath Taieri (now Middlemarch), and this now forms
the present road to Waipori and Central Otago via the Maniototo plain,
or alternatively over the Rock and Pillar to the same destination.

In the days of which I am writing, Harvey's Flat was a small clearing of
limited area surrounded by swamp and scrub, a very forbidding aspect for
potential agricultural development. 

Today, the flax bushes the cabbage trees and the Manuka scrub have been
more or less cleared the way, and the swamps drained to some extent.
But it is still far from being model farming country.

Today, motor transport speeds through at anything up to 50 miles per hour,
on a good road surface and a view is converted to memory in a few minutes.
But in the days of slow transport, opportunity was forwarded for leisurely
enjoyment of the view and an appreciation of the virgin scenery as it
unfolded at every bend, and the topping of every rise. As to the volume of traffic,
the good old days beat the person days hollow, and then some. The roads in
the 1860s and 1870s were filled with slow-moving transport in the shape of
wagons and drays galore, with an occasional buggy or light Express to
represent speed. Also there were large mobs of cattle, sheep and pigs
winding their deliberate way from and to the stations of the interior.

Riders on horseback walked, trotted or galloped, in either direction on
their lawful occasions, or even indeed sometimes on their unlawful occasions.

Pedestrians were represented by bewhiskered swagmen, generally in pairs,
but often in parties of up to half a dozen, “humping near blueys”.  Chinamen
in lots of up to 20 and 30, trotted along with a basket on each end of a
bamboo carried across the shoulders.

Those of us who are well up in years maybe pardon for speaking of the
“good old days”, without going to deeply into the question of whether the
“good old days” were any better than the present.

I think however that it would be an act of politeness for the present
generation to listen to the old tales on an occasion such as the Centenary
of the Province. We will try to make the telling as interesting as possible.

Those readers of American fiction in of the cowboy and the wild west variety,
might ask what has New Zealand to show for it's horse and cattle law, wildlife,
shootings and love thrills to compare with such?  Well there are some points
of similarity but on whole the early life of the pioneers was led in quieter
surroundings generally than those portrayed in this favourite brand of fiction.
It was fiction anyway, very much so.

New Zealand followed the Australian practices rather than the American.
It was from Australia that the bulk of the run holders came from or from the
British Isles via Australia, and the gun, never had any vogue in New Zealand.
They were replaced by the stock-whip and the dog, following the Australian
practice. As regards firearms, the shotgun was more often seen than
the rifle in the early days, and although pistols and other small arms were
owned by some settlers, they were never in evidence, or worn on the person.

In all my early experiences, I never saw a lasso used, which goes to show
that our drivers and stockmen all came from England or Australia, never
from America.  Dad and Dave and Mum and Mabel as portrayed by Steele
Rudd in his earlier episodes of Snake Gully pioneering days, strike chords
and harmony with the life as lived by many of our early settlers,
the environment to some extent might be different, but in the essentials t
here was little difference.

Mrs Blakey writes July 18th 1946

‘No I don't think Dad and Dave, Mum and Mabel as Steele Rudd portrayed
them in his serials and books is a just pattern of New Zealand life.

Pity, a country whose life in the back blocks doesn't offer more than the
sordid outlook they had. Perhaps I am prejudiced, but as a young woman
when those books came out, I thought what mean thing for the man who
was sent to the outback to help uplift a section of the country to exploit and
use their drawbacks in life in respect of education and outlook, to make money
out of it.

Many years ago a young man came to “Parkdale”, where ministers and
Swagman were always supplied with a meal. He took out his notebook
to write up a little oddities of his host and hostess, bad manners if nothing
else. Don't think because I don't agree always that I am trying to be
disagreeable.  I was only 6 years old when we left “Harvey's Flat”,
but I remember the other house, and the rides on the tailboard of the wagon.

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