April, 1864

This has been such an eventful weekend. My sister Ann came to see me on Sunday. With her, came her husband, James Simister and his cousin, called James Jackson. I had met James at Ann’s wedding, but didn’t really feel that I knew him, but he is a good-looking man of about forty. He seems very shy and quiet. He works as a printer in Manchester. 

James' wife died in childbirth in December last year, leaving him with five girls, the oldest only 12 - and he obviously needs someone to take his wife’s place. Ann, hoped that he might find me acceptable as a wife, so this visit was a chance for us to become reacquainted.

I must admit that I had given up any hope of marriage or of having children on my own. As I am now forty-three, I have almost reached the stage where it would be impossible for me to carry a child. I can only think that this is a gift I must not dismiss too quickly.

I have agreed to go to visit James and meet his children at their home in Manchester next Sunday after church.
Needless to say, if I did marry, I would have to give up this position which I love, and I would have a whole new set of tasks - carrying for a husband, looking after a household of young children, cleaning, cooking, etc. None of these things have I done before, except on the very small scale as was necessary to keep my room here in order. At home we three sisters shared in all the household tasks so it never seemed much of a chore.

But I think what worries me most, is that if I marry soon, and the impression I got was that James was in a hurry, I will probably never finish my book. I could not expect to carry on a correspondence with Teddy once I am a married woman. I have thought of little else but my book, apart from work, since I started on this enterprise, and it will be very difficult to give it up. But if I refuse James, I most likely will never have another chance like this again.
I will include a short passage from Teddy’s book that I greatly enjoyed about how the natives first came upon the horse.

As I had got a mile of two in advance of the pedestrians, and rode fast along the last part of the beach, I was not seen by the inhabitants of the pa until close to the river. Then they ran down on to the beach.

By this time I had plunged into the river, which here flows over soft and shifting sands. The horse’s body was nearly hidden ; and though many of my old friends here had recognized me, and shouted, “Tiraweke! - Haeraemai!” they evidently thought that a native was carrying me on his shoulders. There were now nearly a hundred natives collected, many of whom had never seen a horse before, crowding over each other to give me the first greeting.

With two or three vigorous plunges, the horse suddenly emerged from the water, and bore me into the middle of them. Such a complete panic can hardly be imagined. They fled yelling in all directions without looking behind them; and as fast as I galloped past those who were running across the sandy bank up the steep path leading to the pa of Tihoe, they fairly lay down on their faces, and gave themselves up for lost.

Half-way up the hill I dismounted, and they plucked up courage to come and look at the Kari nui,” or “large dog.” The most amusing questions were put to me as to its habits and disposition. “Can he talk?” one said; “Does he like boiled potatoes?” said another; and a third, “Must he have a blanket to lie down at night?”

This unbounded respect and admiration lasted all the time that I remained. The horse was taken into the central courtyard of the pa; a dozen hands were always offering him Indian corn, and grass, and sow-thistles, when they had learned what he really did eat; and a wooden bowl full of water was kept constantly replenished close to him. And little knots of curious observers sat round the circle of his tether-rope, remarking, and conjecturing, and disputing, about the meaning and intention of every whisk of his tail or shake of his ears.”

Now the next letter from Mr. Wakefield to my father.

“December, 1839

Dear Daniel

During the time I was absent in Canada, the New Zealand Association introduced a Bill into Parliament, but it was rejected. Before I returned the Association had decided to reconstitute itself as a joint-stock company. In March I was made director of the New Zealand Company with the slogan, "Possess yourself of the Soil and you are Secure".
and took up residence at the Company's headquarters. 

Since then I have been busy organising the preliminary expedition, under my brother William, assisted by my son, Teddy who was so very useful to me in Canada. The object is to establish a wealthy, civilized society.

The company purchased a ship called the Tory. We had a bit of trouble finding a captain, but managed to get Main Chaffers who had been sailing master on the HMS Beagle during its circumnavigation.

The ship left on May 5, and called at Plymouth to complete the fitting out. I was so worried that the Government would stop our sailing that I went down there and advised their immediate sailing. They finally left the country on 12 May.

They reached New Zealand ninety six days later. The plan was for them to prospect sites for settlement and buy land from the Maoris. They have done this from a local Maori chief, Te Puni, and they have identified a site in the harbour of Port Nicholson and more settlers will be arriving there next year.

Teddy writes back wonderful great detailed letters of his adventures in great detail. I have advised him to keep a daily journal of everything that happens, which will be of use to him if he ever wants to write up his story as a book.

Best to you and your family for 1840.

I remain your friend,

Edward Gibbon.”