The Late William Hoskins.
REMINISCENCES OF A VISIT TO WAIPAWA TWENTY SIX YEARS AGO.
Mr Lanoolot Booth, an aotor well known throughout Now Zialand as a member of Mr Hoskins’ company in the ‘seventies,’ has, during the past four yoan from time to time contributed articles recounting his experiences to the Evening News , Sydney. In 1873—twenty six years ago—Mr Hoskins, Miss Florence Colville, Miss Dooey Mainwaring and Mr Booth visited Napior, where, assisted by talented local amateurs, they produced ‘ Richelieu ’ and other standard plays. A great Native Land Commission was enquiring out, and adjusting the claims of Maoris who had bartered their hods, and Napier was fnil of visitors, the la‘e ‘ Johnny’ ShoobaD, then Native Minister,
being of the numbor. Mr Booth has something to aay of a visit to Waipawa, and he sends os the following, which wM no donbt bo interesting to onr readers. A quarter of a oentnry has worked great changes, and the ' drama ’ is very differ •ntly accommodated here now. There were two enterprising business leople in Napier who negotiated with Mr Joskins for his company’s services (only fonr of ns all told) to give two entertainments at an inland settlement—Waipawa —about forty miles from Napier. iTboro is a railway between the two places now,
I believe). There was to be a native * meeting at Waipawa of one or two tribes 1 to have a final' talk,’ and tbe whites were 1 to hold a raoe meeting. So it was 1 expected that there wonld be a very 1 great gathering. Tbe expectation was realised and tbe aff lir was a financial 1 success for the two speculators, bat I oannot say that the performances were a sneoess, though they were oarried out nnder extraordinary difficulties and the 1 >i«ces were as faithfully represented (so ar as speaking and acting the lines were concerned) as they might have been in a first class theatre. But of tbia presently. A ooach was engaged, a party mado op, and wo started off about 11 o’clock in the morning of tbe day before ; we were not to appear until the next night (the day of the native meeting, and tbe eve of the rsoe meeting). We bad glorious weather (it was in tbe latter part of February or tho beginning of March) and we enjoyed tbe trip immensely. The first twenty miles lay through fairly level country and there was constant obaDge of scene—troops of Maoris on tbe mnroh who greeted ns with loud shonts—large tracts of country under flax and kumeras, with occasionally a solitary settler’s borne which gave one an unpleasant thought of the all too recent Poverty Bay massacre Wo halted for Innoh at a roadside inn. For tbe life of me I oannot think of tbe name of this spot—l mean the Maori name. It was something like Pipiwa, (Paki Paki but the meaning of it was ' Flies 9 or' Tbe Place of Flies.’ It was ne misnomer. The place was black with them. Indoors and out of doors there was no esoape from them. The soap drowned them—tea or beer absorbed them. Conversation was scarcely possible, for they stormed your opon month, as a forlorn hope would an enemy's breach. Eyes, nose, month, tbe baok of yonr neck, the sleeves of yonr coat, or the bottoms of yonr trouser legs —all were assailed. The smoke of a tobacco pipe only appeared to encourage them to more determined attacks. Tbe residents seemed not to notioo the winged tormentors and nnlike the Egyptians were in no harry to let as poor Israelites go. They mast have hardened their hides as well as theirj hearts. Bat we did not wait for any modern Pharaoh, for as soon as we had rested (horrid faroe !) and changed horses we fled. Soon we as oended, skirted the mountains and the flies disappeared. A man with a good supply of those treacly sticky looking flypapers ought to have coined money at that spot. I nervously enquired first of one, then of auether, so that the information might be oonfirmed if there wore any flies is Waipawa. I was reassured, but not happy in absolute belief 1 had no bald bead then, or I believe I would have made a circuit of miles to avoid that spot. Arrived at Waipawa we fonnd that for flies we had exchanged Maoris and Whites. I think there was only one pnbliohonse in tbe plaoe. I forget its name, also that of the host. Mr Hoskins and tbe two speculators were apportioned a bedroom. Miss Florence Colville and the other lady annexed the landlady’s room, and I had—well, to take the share of a room which had been appropriated by three settlers. The whole plaoe did not consist of many bouses, and it was swarming with people—and snoh people! Sturdy settlers and swarthy Maoris, gentlemen and grooms, philo Maoris and halfcastes. Every pakeba had a horse—generally a good one, io good oondiiion, for tbe grass is ‘ feedfnl ’ in New Zealand and droughts are unknown. Wherever did the people come from ? Yon could not enter a room in the hostelry but it was ohokeful of hnman beings—it was a Babel, a pandemonium! I came across Mr Hoskins standing at a back door, looking over a sort of stable farmyard surrounded by buildings that constituted a kind of zareba. With something of sarcasm in my voice I spoke to him in the language of tbe old Adelphi drama—The Green Bushes—’ Ram rigs in these latitudes, governor.’ Pat and quiok came the reply— 1 I believe yon my bo o y.’ ‘ Don’t yon think we have got rather a strange selection of cemedies to play before sneh a mixed—very mixed audience as we shall apparently have,’ I ventured to remark. ‘ Humph,’ replied the old man, ‘of course ! I know it. Bat Swan (one of tbe speculators) ohose the pieces, and it is not my fault He ooght to know ; bnt I should think songs and dances would be what they want here. Is’nt tte row awfal ? ’ I agreed with him heartily, and then tbe old vetrrm of Sadlers Wells glanced uneasily round in all directions, as though looking hr something. I knew what was passing in his mind, and I unoouc. rnedly a#kod (though I was concerned) ‘ Got any idea whore the theatre is, governor ?’ ‘ Not the slightest. Ah ! here’s Swan. Where’s the theatre, Swan ?’ ‘ Over here ’ replied our friend Swan, a capital fellow and a brewer to boot), and he led the way across tbe manure straw-bespriokled muddy quagmire of a yard, trodden into a horrid mass by hoofs to a long, low barn. We entered. A sort 1 of stage had been roughly constructed upon trestles at one eud and candles were plaoed in brackets round the ‘ hall ’ which did not seem capable of holding more than 200 persons packed olose. I felt for the speculators who I knew were to give £SO for the trip, and all expenses, bat they had calculated the oh&noe, and the prioes of admission had been fixed it a high figure—l think 10b, 5i and 2* 6d. But if I felt in my ignorance for the speculators, on oatohing sight of Mr Hoskins I felt for him, so much so that I burst into laughter. He had mounted to tbe improvised stago an 1 was striding about testing its strength. His head—for be was a tall man—came to within i eighteen iuohes of tbe roof and appeared fully four inches above a sort of enrtoin that had beoo run along a etriug, mooting in tbe middle. Tbe curtain was composed of sheets, an 1 tho Bi les were set off by crimson hangings which I subs quently found had beoo tak n from the 1 best room ”of the hostelry. Hoskins said nothing, but be had an uneasy look as 1 he surveyed the app wntm-ots and surI roundings, aud quietly remarked “ Well, I suppoßo we mnat make the best of it, Swan.”
‘ Swan of A*oo,’ I ejiculated, and at the same lime I asked Hoskius where he was going Io dress and change. ‘ Ob,’ said Swan, ‘ yon‘ll have to dress iu yonr bedrooms.’ It was growing quite interesting. Bat we had to do so for all that, aud walk aoross that sloughy yard, costnmed, (the Udies too) running the gauntlet of Maoris aud Wnilcs who crowded round us during our progress I had several trips to aud fro, and resorted to many devices to save the * old mao ’ annoyance and discomfort, for I truly felt for him. For myself I rather enjoyed tho joke. And there was a joke too in playiug elegant comedy to such an extraordinary audieuoe. The first nigh’s programme was ‘ The Happy Pair,’ Mr Hoskins and Mien Florenoe Colville ; and ‘ Gheokmato ’—Mr lloskins, Mies Oolville, Miss Dooey
Mainwaring, an amateur (Mr well known Napier bonified) and Not being in the * first pieoe ’ I my time in generally looking r quire merits that might bavo looked, bat as the ‘ Happy grassed, I coaid hear no appW^B fcf )Qt few laughs ; and jnst as I *M(i.^B orn for Sir Everton Toffee, and eidering how I could possibly ohango of costame, in the face difficulties with my servant Hoskins), I met several Maori* from the ‘theatre’ ‘ Kapai the shouted one big fellow to me. that the performance was good, suitable for a oburcb, or sacred function by reason of tbe demeanour of the audience. Th* are apt in simile. I felt gri«^'^K A r when some booted end sparred horsemen said it was ‘ a bit olV* ‘ mebbo, the next piece would *** lively, ‘ I took heart of grace.’ ‘ They don’t applaud maofa, said Hoskins, with a twinkle, a* he dered across the ‘ bog ’ to change for ‘ Checkmate.' appreciative, goternor, not detnonitßß It is only the vulgar who stamp and howl “ henoore So 1 him, hot he refuted to ho I do believe be said 'Damn it,’ never—no never—would take inch again ; and he never did to tay ledge. During the iuteivel whites flotJK. the bar and the Maoris to it* and were everywhere, like the flj^B >Dl that abominable spot I have I hut the end came—anyway did. We raised some proval, and were glad that it Strange to say tbe people were * praise of tbe performance, and seats forthwith for the next night of the raoe day. If the first day was ‘ rough ’ was * stormy.' All the * repeated but in a more develops ' Delicate Ground ’ and ' No. 1 Corner ’ (the latter an t Ciarles Mathews to substitute * one of the male obaraoters). When tbe performance wae a time, weariedly I sought my UiJßlp whiob I had shared tbe with some settlers, who bad fairly well. I fonnd the door heard sounds of snoring and other tions suggestive of sleep which I I hammered and knooked and lord aided me. 4 Oh!' said beggars are fall ap, mebbe.’ HBs 4 But I mast sleep somewhere. |Hk*t tired ; besides I have some thingiii|^H ( that I require particularly.' 4 Look here mate, yon go round yard, yon can easily get on the heo-i^^ft 0 ' from there to the shed, aod is only a foot above it.' 'Well, that's nice I mast sey.' fll over I went. I scaled tbs hn-flBb« sormonoted tbo shed and window, which was wide open, over something which fell with I ultimately fonnd it was i ki^BF r, < pickled onions. I struck a three settlers (or whatever they they mast hare been settlers, by they were settled) were iDoriD|^^f A slumbering on their respective various attitudes aod folly dretidßH bed had been utilised as a table odiHß were dishes, plates, remnants knives, forks, salt, pepper, empty beer bottles, spirit and pots in most admired disorder IH plaoe fairly reeked with tbe odors generated by this I unfastened the door, mads downstairs, brought the landlord showed him this “ kettle of fieh.* bad raided his oommissariat and Hoskins went without his night. I sadly sought a soft, in a parlor, pushed a wretched was glad when we saw the pretl; town of Napior again. Even tbe flies enpassant, though we did not stay in their longer than was neoessary.
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Bibliographic details
Waipawa Mail, Volume XXI, Issue 3897, 13 May 1899, Page 2
Word Count
2,030The Late William Hoskins. Waipawa Mail, Volume XXI, Issue 3897, 13 May 1899, Page 2
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