BROMLEY’S LETTERS.

Poverty Bay Standard, Volume XI, Issue 1329, 14 July 1883, Page 2

BROMLEY’S LETTERS.

The following are Bromley’s letters to his wife put in as evidence by Mr Kenny. As tho case is subjudice we make no comments, merely remarking that they speak volumes: — Launoeaton, 31st May, 1873. My own darling Jane. —I received yout last uonio time ago, but I received Amy’s before yours. I have delayed writing thinking that I should have something good and definite to write about, but up to the present 1 have not disposed of my interest in either of my leases ; but they are under offer. It is only a matter of time. As soon as the tint smelting takes place 1 can dispose of nrine quickly. I have left Horn’s. He has sold the place to a company to work the iron ore. By the way, that fellow Combes never so much as answered my letter. Well, the loss will ba his, He could have made several thousand pounds if he had got up a company. It would not have cost him anything—only his expenses over here. And now, my own dear Jane, as your letter made me feel very unhappy, at all events at that part in which you mention having managed so well sinso my absence. When I come to think of it, which I often do, I cannot really understand how you have managed all this time to keep yourself and the children so respectable as you have done. Now, my old darling, Ido not wish to flatter you. but positively you are a woman in a thousand. As to yoUr Good Templarism—well, it will do for persons who cannot help getting more than will do them good, but 1 do not believe in it in any other way; besides, as a rule they mix up religious matters with their temperance affairs, which should not be done. There are a body of them here in Launceston. I was very sorry to hear of the death of yotir mother, but she was getting into years, and it was a thing to bo expected. And now for the most important part of your letter, that is, regarding Amy. Who and what is this man you speak of ? You call him a gonti this is not a propar word to use. You should either say gentleman, or respectable one—whichever tho caso may bo. J am sure, in the position she holds, she is hardly likely to receive an offer from a gentlemen (that is, my definition of a gentleman) suitable to the grand daughter of the late Dr Bromley. I would rather see her a thousand times dead at my feet than form u misalliance. You know my prejudice against the low and vulgar. I never would or could recognise a low son-in-law; far, far hotter that she should remain single all her life. Send mo word who and what this person is, and havo f authenticated by aoine gentleman, such m the P.M. of Bathurst or some one else. Recollect within a few months our position as regards money matters will bo materially altered tor the better. Although a gentleman is a gentleman whether he is rich or poor. I shall trust to you to see well into the matter. You may mention to her my very gloat antipathy to any low or ignorant person. You will know in what manner to mention it. I hope this has not been going on for any tim ■; if so, you are to blame for not letting me know. And the next thing is that 1 intend tj try and raise L2OO on my leasehold, pending the sale, and then putting up a store at the iron mines. The managers are particular friends of mine. There are two or three stores there, but I would not care for them if I can only commence, I can do Will, and as soon as I can sell I will have you all over here. You may dtpeid, (although I do not say much about it) 1 am and have been heartily tired of this kind of

life, but 1 trust it will not be long now before we are together again, but for the present it would be a folly to give up a present certainty for a remote one. Write at once about Amy. Aly address is: Care of Air Morrison, Cameron street, Launceston. Poor Morrison has been very ill for about eighteen months, and they left the shop in Brisbane street and took a private house. ’ One of his sons keeps on the business for him, They uro very kind people indeed. Do you wish to know what took me so often to Launceston ? Well, considering that I am only in on an average once in twelve months, I do not think that very often. Depend upon it I am here as seldom as possible. I do not like the place, but if 1 get the siore 1 shall be up once a month or oftener. There is no inducement for me to come up here, only when my business calls me. I will write again directly anything of importance transpires, (jive my love to all the children, and impress upon my poor dear boy the actual necessity of being truthful and strictly honest in all his dealings. Be very careful with whom he associates, particularly boys of his own age or older, as any impressions he imbibes now, either good or bad, will remain with him all his life. This is all 1 can think of at present. Good bye, my own darling Jane. The time is fast drawing nigh when we shall be together again, and I trust that this will be the last parting until the final one. — Your affectionate husband, Sidney J. Bkomlry. My dear old girl, you say 1 am very much in your debt. Well, I acknowledge the

debt, and I promise faithfully to pay up all arrears when wo meet, and also to make up for lost time in everything. Once more, good bye old girl, God bless von all. S. B. I will write to Amy after I hear from you. Tell her so. I only got her letter a few days before I got yours, and then decided to hear from you before writing to her. Wellington, 16th September, 1876. My Dear Jane.—l duly received yours, and hasten to reply. I also got one from Amy a few days ago, but have not been able to answer before. You aay that you will never come here to New Zealand. I wish I had never come. lam greatly in debt. I have a bill due to-day, and have not a pound to pay it with. The bill is £45 odd, and I owe the same person 20 or 30 pounds more. This is for the fowls, palings, timber, etc. I did all the labor myself, and the fowls are neat ly all diseased through being confined in a wet place. I was regularly taken in. I had no idea that the place I fenced, in was so wet, I cannot write much this time, as the post closes soon, and I must get my acceptance renewed or I shall have to become insolvent. I also owe for the rent of the place, fowls’ food, etc. I must get out of it the best way I can. You accuse me of being ungrateful.

Surely you cannot mean that, as you know 1 have not a particle of ingratitude in my composition. I was BOrty to hear from Amy that Sid has become rather self-willed, I hope he will improve. I was always led to believe he was a very good boy. Why are you always speaking to, or rather writing to, me about Amy’s husband ? You always knew my opinion upon the subject of her marriage. I cannot help my nature. I have invariably had the greatest horror of any such thing, I may feel better on the subject some day. I can and do appreciate his kindness to you all, and trust he makes Amy a good husband, and I hope some day to be able to thank him personally. The state of New Zealand is very critical just now. Her debt is immense, and things in general are looking very gloomy. I trust Clarry is better before this. You do not know how I long to see you all again. I had thoughts of bringing Sid over here, but that is impossible now. I do not think things are so good here now' as in Now South Wales, although they were

bad enough when I left. I will write again shortly. I have invariably answered every letter I have received from you ; and more than that, I have written several times since February. 1 have never received but one letter from Amy since her marriage, and that was a few days ago. She complains of my not answering her, when I have never received any to answer. 1 see by the paper that a fresh copper lode has been discovered hear Carcour, I think. Give the enclosed to Amy. How is it that Amy writes Father instead of Papa ? Give my love, with kisses, to all the children, and plenty for yourself. —I must close, or will be too late for the post, —I am. my dearest Jane, your ever affectionate husband, Sidney.

Wellington, 6th December, 1876. My own darling Jane.—This is the third letter that I ha\ e written since I heard from you. The last I wrote when I was up in the other part of this island some 4 or 5 hundred miles from here ; but as I was in the bush, probably it may have not been posted. I am rather anxious to hear from you. 1 wrote before to Amy, and enclosed a letter to you. I suppose you heard of the death of poor Lilly. I did not think she would live when I was in Hobart, I had a Uttor from Isabella; poor thing, she feels Lilly’s death very much, as she was quite a companion to her, but at the same time her death was a happy release to herself, as she must have suffered a great deal of pain. I have been trying to dispose of my fowls, timber, etc, ; but even if I realise the highest price for them, I shall be £35 or £4O in debt. These fowls have been a regular failure j I cannot understand it, They ought to have paid for themselves long ago, instead of which I have had to sell a great number of them to pay for their food and my own. I was rather deceived in the place I arti keeping them in ; it is far too wet in the winter, and either they were diseased when I got them, or they got so after their arrival here ; at all events I only got about 1 or 1 j dozen of eggs per day out of about 175 laying hens, and the fowls food is very expensive here, 5s and 6s per buehel, quite ruinous where the fowls do not lay, and for the first 10 or 12 weeks, I did not obtain a dozen eggs ; but I must try and make a push to get rid of the whole affair, and earn sufficient money to pay off what I owe, as it lays like an incubus on my mind day and night. 100 laying hens here ought to be worth about £5O per annum, after paying for their food. I nave been giving them a great deal of brewers’ grains lately ; that is the cheapest food to give them ; but of course they do not lay well upon grains given to them bo often. I have to carry them about a mile or more upon my back, and it is most exhaustive work for the time, but 1 think I can see my way clear to get out of this place. You can direct my next letters to Wellington ; although I may not be here, I will leave an order with a friend of mine to forward them to me where ever I may be. I tried some time ago to get the appointment of Inspector of Sheep for this district, rendered vacant by the death of Mr Wallace, the late Inspector. There were 15 applicants for the situation, but I have every reason to believe that the thing was cut and dried as every thing of the sort is here, long before the appointment was actually made ; every thing of that kind goes by favor, and not by merit. Favouriteism is carried on to a great extent here in the disposal of the General Government and Provincial appointments. Some time ago I applied for an appointment as a clerk over the wharf, also as clerk of the wharf scales, which were vacant at the time, but without success in either case. This place is very much over done by immigration, and now provincialism is done away with there will be a number of people out of employment. I have also tried to obtain the management of several stations, but hitherto without success ; but I do not despair of obtaining something shortly. Still address to me as usual. I think I told you I lost a number of fowls by disease. I have given them pills made of soft soap, and flour pills as large as I could put down their throats ; just enough flour to make them the consistency of paste. I give them one every other day, and in bad cases every day, and for the pip a little castor oil with a feather occasionally. I have been going to tell you for some time past to tell the girls and Sid to clean their teethe with soap after every meal; that is a good thing, or at all events every night and morning ; it preserves the teeth wonderfully. I wish I had done it all my life. And also get them if possible to take a bath every day fasting ; even a sponge bath is very healthy ; that is to use a sponge or flannel to wash all over from head to feet every morning ; it does not take much time and is a great preserver of health. How is our old boy getting. I feel almost frantic sometimes when I think of being all these years away and not having been in a position to send you anything. 1 do not despair of our living all together again some of these fine days, but we must have patience. My dear Jane, there are very few women that could have kept up and persevered as you have done so many years, but, perhaps, it is all for the best; otherwise God would not have permitted it to be so. How are the copper mines getting on ? I never should be able to perform any very laborious work, my back is no better, but is much easier

i ■ when I keep the porous platter on it. Give i my love to dear Amy and the children, and remember me kindly to her husband. You would be surprised to sec me pop in some of these fine days, I may by 100 miles from here in a few weeks. I must try some other place if possible. Ever your own Sydney. Waiapu, May 10, 1881. My Dear Jane.—l duly received your last letter, I cannot conceive how it was that the letter was returned to you, any letter addressed to Gisborne will reach me sooner or later, as I have a friend who is certain to obtain them—but I may not get them lor a week or two, or perhaps lor a month. I have written two letters to you previous to this one, which I shall pc*t myself. The Maories are not very trusty people to fiend ' letters by to the post, I have got both those. ; I sent to you as they were never posted. But ■ letters sent to mo are sure to arrive safe, I do not wish letters to be registered, they will not arrive any safer for doing so, and they arc troublesome. You mmst not dream of coming to Niw Zealand for many reasons. I can put up with may hardships that you would succumb to in a month, and the Natives are likely to break out at any time, but there will be no fear of anything happening to me, I am working for the general good. lam here to-day and away somewhere else to-morrow, I am doing what many other persons are doing, trying to secure a freehold from the Maories, which, since some kind person, by writing to the postmaster at Gisborne, was very nearly frustrating, and has put me back a great deal--I suppose it was Isabella, consequently

I had to write rather strongly to her upon the subject. I must not be interfered with in any way whatever, I can work out what lam about alone, and in no other way. Things were working properly until that letter came, I am not at liberty to give any further explanations at present, but remember my strict injunctions arc that you or any of the children must not attempt to come to New Zealand until 1 either send or come to New South Wales, 1 may be 1 or 2 hundred miles from a sea port. ‘s to my coming to reside in New South Wales, and being dependent upon any one is simply ridiculous, I would rather blow my brains out. No, no, I have health and strength thank God, and I trust I am putting them

to a good use for the future benefit of all. What is Sidney doing, I hope he is sieady and dutiful to you, and assisting to console you for my absence. I am certain the girls are dutiful to you, I received the likenesses all right, but do not think they are flattering or even good ones. lam almost sorry that I left Tasmania, as the gold fields and tin mines have turned out well since I left. A gentleman here has just secured 20,000 or 30,000 acres of Maori laud after trying for eleven years, and persevering all the lima, so you may understand the difficulties that one has to encounter. I trust your health is pretty, good, some parts of this island is very unhealthy, but others are healthy, and

the earthquakes are very severe at times, I have felt a great number, one some months ago made me quite sick for two or three days. When you write still address Gisborne until I tell you different, but do not register the letters—give my love to the children. I suppose Sid is quite a young man, does he go to a night school, and docs he bathe every day, I do, either in a river or the sea, which keeps me so healty. I seldom feel the old pain in my left breasts aud never severely—bathing is one of the healthiest things a person can do. How is it Sid never writes to mo, poor boy, poverty parted us all, and until lately I had not much hope of ever living or getting out of it, I just obtain sufficient to exist upon, Good bye, God bless yuii al).—Your affectionate husband, 8. J. Bromley. Waiapu, September 1,183 L My dear Jane.—Yours of June came safely to hand ; you say it is three years since I wrote to you, do you not think you are laboring under delusion. I herewith enclose my piloto. My work is trying (o obtain Maori land, but whoever wrote that letter to the Postmaster here did mo an immense deal | of harm, in fact it put mo back years in what j 1 am trying to do If I succeed I shall realise something very handsome, if not I shall only lie in the position 1 started. Yes, tlie Maories are all right so long as they get their own way—and that way is lo steal, lie and every other abomination under the sun, 1 have an infinite deal of trouble with them—as they often try to evade their own identity. As I told you before it is utterly imp o-iblo for me to leave N.Z. until I have accomplished the end I have in view. It is very strange that Sidney has never wrote to me. Does he nut attend some good night school—had 1 ; my time to go over again 1 would sacrifice I any and everything to gain myself a good , education. I have also tried to impress upon I you the almost absolute necessity of his i learning short-hand writing, he cou’.d all • times earn a good and easy living bv report- I ing for newspapers, or as a Parliamentary | reporter. Surely he could spare some time i in educating himself by going to a good night ■ school. You really car. have no ilea of the . value of education, everything should be subordinate to that. The very fa -t of his only getting 23s per week and having to work all those hours, shews that if he was educated properly he could easily earn as much in one day or less —see to this, strain every effort to accomplish this matter. I am sorry to hear that poor dear Clarry does not enjoy good health. I always thought she was very | strong, and tint Eliza was more likely to be j delicate. I think 25s per week a most ridieu- j louely low pay for Sid. How yo.i can pos- | sibly imagine that I do not care to hear how you are doiug, I cannot understand, of course 1 am very anxious to hear all about them. 1 do nut think I ever received a letter from Sid, and 1 most certainly answered the girls letters. I think I have written to Amy since she wrote to me, at all events I will send a few lines in this. From the tenor of your letters I perceive that occa-fionally, if not oftener. something is said against me, or Amy would have no occasion to take mv part so much for family affection, but under the circumstances 1 cannot expect anything else. Oh yrs, of course, Hawthorn is a model of a husband and father. Comparisons are odious—but recollect the difference in the relative positions of Hawthorn and myself. I trust yuu will all escape the small pox. I have only had one or two letters from Fred since I have been in N.Z. I wish y< u to have my mother’s likeness done up and send me half-dozen photos of it ; I will send the money if you let me know the amount. I would also like to have my father epoulets, they would be of service to me in letting people know his position when in life, also the plate with Dr Bromley on it; send these things by the earliest opportunity. I will try to obtain a likeness of my father, and senrl over to you. I will write again as soon as possible. 1 find I cannot write to Amy by this mail, but should like to hear from her and the other children. S. J. Bromley. Waiapu, October 15th, 1882. My dear Jane—l have oqly just received your letter, and am surprised that, you have not heard from me for so long a time. In the interim 1 have written three letters. I have just ascertained that two of them miscarried ; in fact, all my letters are entrusted toj Maoris to post, aud they have often to

rlciG many miles, aud cross innumerable large and dangerous r.vers. 1 am myself at times for weeks travelling on horseback and on foot. As I fold you before lam trying to obtain a block or two of Maori land, but the fact of some one writing to enquire about me put me buck for years, and I had to commence with that millstone about my neck. I must once more particularly caution you or anyone else from attempting to enquire about me. Should anything at anytime h”p* pen |to imc I have made all provisions for you to hear of it at once, but 1 do not anticipate anything of th. 9 kind, only in the ordinary course of events. I am in a hurry now, or rather the mail will close to-morrow, and I have to eend this many miles. I must enquire about my last missing letters, I will by next mail, within one month, write you a long letter. You did not mention if poor 1 Bid quite recovered from the accident he had I when lie fell off the ladder-. Poor boy, I often think of him, aud I can see his poor pitiful face when lie was to anxious to see nic when I was in tho coach at Boweriieid the night. I left, However appearances may be against me. do not think I am heartless you will know everything some day, Give my love to all the dear children, and tell them to write to me. I wish Sid to become a Freemason, if possible, and to join the English lodge, not the Irish or Scotch or any other. I will write more next time. Goodbye. God bless and protect you all, and keep , you all in geod health. Do not be uneasy about me. No one must either enquire about me or come to New Zealand until I give permission, or the worst will happen. Your affectiona’e husband, 8. J. Bromley.

Waikohu, March 10th, 18b3. | My dear Jane,—Your two letters duly to hand. I , have not received any letters from the children. I I have only just returned this far from a long jornney | of several hundred miles in the heart of the Maori country. If you remember, 1 wrote to you many months ago, stating that the letter sent to the Posti master here has done me more harm than I shall do | good in a lifetime. You have not yet told me who : wrote the letter I thought it was Isabella, and i wrote her a very sharp letter, but she has not written to me since. It was a most thoughtless (to say ■ the least of it) proceeding to take, and one that has i served most unmistakably to injure my prospects in ’ Aew Zealand; consequently the prospects of ail belonging to me. I neither can or will ever forget the writer. I may forgive the person It has been the means of heaping loads or trouble upon me, and done me an incalculable amount of harm. I have been some weeks away on several occasions lately. You can still address Gisb >rne. You can have no idea of the countrv here. Sometimes you will be stopped for we**ks by rising rivers, and when you are negitiating with Maoris for land, you must stop with them until the business is completed, let it take long or short, as some one else may be after the same block and cut the ground from under your feet before you arc aware of it. And then there is the tedious sai tive Lands Court to get your land through ; and peri haps there a thousand grantees or owners scattered in j some cases over the whole of hew Zealand, and you must obtain each and ail of their signatures before the Native Lands Court Judges will permit it to pass through. 'J hen when you bring the block into Court some other Pakeha (white man) may have purchased the interest of some of the original owners. Some of the cases take many years of perseverance, heaps of money, patience, endurance, and judgment, and then in the end you may not obtain the land. When you once begin, you must continue, or throw up all youa prospects. I have got Amy’s children’s photos. I nave never seen or heard from my brother’s widow’s family, or the Basstians, since I left Tasmania. They are, 1 believe, or at all events Basstians’ family, living in the Middle Island of New Zealand, and I am existing in the North Island. They are hundreds of miles from here. I was an auctioneer in n cllington, but I never had a livery stable. That is some of Koberte tiles, because when Miss Amy Sherwin played In 1 Gisborne 1 borrowed a buggy and pair of horses from I a friend of mine, and drove down to the wharf, and I drove her and her mother to their hotel; and once J ; drove them into the country in the same buggy and pair -hence arose the report that 1 was keeping a livery stable, .No, I have never had anything to bring me in any money regularly, or you should have had it long ago, Mine will come tn a'lump, or never. As to mentioning Amy’s children, I do not know how you mean. You say when you write that they arc well, of course lam pleased to hear. But if you remember, I never cared much about the marriage. Taking all things into consideration, you cannot expect mo to be very gushing; and 'if I remember rightly, Amy wrote me one or two rather pert letters. But nevertheless I am and shall be at all times glad to hear of their welfare. You could not have sent to me in a worse time for money, but you may depend upon my sending you some as soon as I get some things through the Court. J have money owing to me, and am how going to try to obtain it. ' I will "address this letter to Amy, ] cannot promise to writs trnru a. mo'ilh bu- will rlo v) us often as possible. I have not received a letter from Sidney or either of the girls for—well, 1 do not know how long ; never since J made the remark about their writing. Sidney should join the Freemasons, the English Constitution, the blue, All. other societies arc not near so good. My father was Physician to the late Duke of Sussex, who was Grand .vaster of England. Does he attend a night school ? Has he learned shorthand, A shorthand writer can at all times earn a good living easily. He should learn at once I will send him books tor self-teaching if he will learn. Good bye. Cheer up. There may be good days in store for us yet. 1 myself am tired of Acw Zealand. I have to*rough it very much sometimes.—Your affectionate husband, S. J. Bromley. Give my Jove to all the children. They arc all grown up, I suppose. Poor girls. lam beginning to think that I ought to have acted differently. But it was all done for the best at the time. Ido not regret leaving New South Wales, but 1 never ought to base left Tasmania to come down here. Onoe more, good bye. God bless and protect you all is the sincere wish of your unlucky husband, S. J. Bromley-.