Lizzie, Love Read online

  Lizzie is twelve years old: sparky, determined and recently crippled by an illness.

  The year is 1833 and her father, James Kemp, is a missionary to Maori at Kerikeri in the Bay of Islands.

  When Lizzie’s baby brother dies and her mother becomes ill, nothing Lizzie does seems able to make things better. As the eldest daughter of seven children, much is expected to her.

  Life isn’t easy, but does God care? Is there any point in praying, as her father has taught her?

  Based on a true story, Lizzie, love is a moving and vibrant cameo of life in early colonial New Zealand. Brenda Delamain brings Lizzie Kemp to us: thoughtful, brave and fully alive.

  For Charlotte

  Acknowledgements:

  The author wishes to thank the many people who helped her with research, information and suggestions, in particular Bella Wynyard for her Maori translations.

  CONTENTS

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Postscript

  About the Author

  Copyright

  CHAPTER 1

  Elizabeth opened her eyes. Loud voices from outside had woken her. That wasn’t unusual, but the light through the window was grey, and much too pale for her usual waking hour. And who was the speaker? She lay still, listening. Not her father, nor one of the other missionaries. Not one of her brothers. Not a Maori. No, this was definitely English.

  ‘Tie her up, lad.’ It was a cheerful, ringing voice.

  Strangers!

  Immediately Elizabeth was wide awake. Pushing back the bedcovers she reached for the crutches that always stood by the bed, hoisted herself to her feet, and limped across to the window.

  It was a misty morning; the haze clung low and dense over the waters of the Kerikeri inlet. To her right the block of the new stone store loomed through the mist, encased in its framework of scaffolding. In the opaque half light Elizabeth could see movement on the foreshore below. Some men were there, pulling up a rowing boat; it crunched on the pebbles.

  Her first thought was to tell her father but when she opened her bedroom door, he was already descending the stairs. At the same time her older brother, Henry, came from his room, hastily stuffing his shirt into his breeches. Her father glanced up.

  ‘You heard them too, Lizzie, did you? I think it’s Captain Dean off The Elizabeth. I know that voice. Come on then, lad, we’ll go and see them.’

  Elizabeth watched her father and brother patter down the stairs in their bare feet, and returned to the window just in time to see them come out of the door below, lifting their feet awkwardly as they walked along the stony path. They went through the gate in the fence that surrounded the mission settlement and scrambled down to the rocky beach below.

  ‘Hello there, James Kemp,’ came the same bluff voice that had woken her a few minutes earlier. ‘An early morning call to wake you up,’ was followed by a bray of laughter.

  Elizabeth heard the door of her parents’ room open then shut, and the soft sound of her mother’s feet descending the stairs. She wondered for a second whether to go back to bed, but quickly decided to get dressed and go down. After all she was up now so why miss out on anything that was going on?

  A few minutes later she was limping down the stairs, clinging to the bannister with one hand and holding her crutches with the other. The front door was flung open and her father came in with Captain Dean. Two sailors and Henry followed.

  Mr Kemp was talking as he ushered them in. ‘No, no, you must have some breakfast. My wife will be up now and it won’t take long to prepare. We can’t let you go with nothing to eat on a chilly morning.’ He caught sight of Elizabeth on the bottom step. ‘Ah, Lizzie, you’ll go tell your mother there’ll be three more for breakfast, will you, love?’

  The Captain suddenly smiled broadly. ‘Elizabeth, yes, I remember you.’

  ‘And I remember you. You are the captain of my ship, The Elizabeth. And how is my ship?’ she asked in a commanding tone.

  The Captain jumped to attention and saluted. ‘Well now, Madam, I beg to report that we have had a good voyage. The ship is in good heart, as is the crew. Isn’t that so, men?’

  The two sailors snapped their hands to their foreheads with exaggerated smartness.

  ‘Aye, aye, Sir,’ they chorused.

  Elizabeth giggled at this play-acting and hopped down the last step.

  ‘But what is this I see?’ said the Captain. ‘Last time I was here you had two good pins; have you been falling and breaking something?’

  There was a moment’s silence. Elizabeth hated to hear talk of her misfortune, of the lifeless leg beneath her skirts. She regarded it like a small reluctant child that had been left with her to be cared for and which she resented. She looked at her father as though expecting him to reply but, as he did not, she answered sharply. ‘No, I’m afraid this pin is rather useless. But it will come right.’

  ‘Unfortunately,’ her father went on, ‘Elizabeth was ill last year with a high fever and pains in her limbs. It has left her with this paralysed leg. We do not know why, but we pray for her recovery — if it be the will of the Lord.’

  Elizabeth, embarrassed, made abruptly for the kitchen. But, before she could escape, the door opened and her mother came out. Mrs Kemp held out her hand and smiled in welcome.

  ‘Captain Dean. James thought it was your voice we heard. I hope you and your men are staying for breakfast?’ Her expression of kindness and sincerity quickly overcame the impression of a short, dumpy, rather plain woman.

  ‘Well, your husband has been kind enough to ask us.’

  ‘Good, then come through into the kitchen while I get it ready. I couldn’t bear to think of you talking out here and me missing all the news. It’s warmer there, too.’

  The kitchen was small and unlined with a big brick fireplace and oven taking up most of one wall. A table and chairs occupied the available floor space.

  A young Maori woman was standing over the stove. She turned and smiled shyly as they entered.

  ‘This is Mere Taua who helps me,’ said Mrs Kemp.

  The men nodded to her and Mere turned back to the stove. The Captain sat down and looked about him. He seemed to see Henry for the first time.

  ‘Is this young James, then?’ he asked.

  ‘No, this is our eldest son, Henry. James is our second son.’

  ‘Ah, yes, Henry,’ said the Captain mysteriously. ‘Now, I have a message regarding Henry.’

  Henry was sitting by the stove, putting on his socks. He looked up, startled.

  ‘Regarding Henry?’ asked his mother.

  ‘Yes, ma’am. You see, as I came down the coast, I called in at Whangaroa and there I spoke to Captain Sadler of The Buffalo and to a Reverend Yates who was up there. They were discussing passage back to England.’

  ‘I see,’ said Mr Kemp heavily. ‘Is Mr Yates thinking of going on The Buffalo?’

  ‘And he wants to take Henry with him,’ said Mrs Kemp as she lifted a pot of soaked oats over to the stove. It was as though she knew it already.

  ‘Well dear, we have discussed it with him,’ said Mr Kemp quietly.

  ‘Yes, but so soon!’

  Mr Kemp explained to the Captain. ‘You see, we have decided that it is best that Henry goes back to England for his future education. It is best,’ he repe
ated to his wife, touching her hand.

  ‘You mean that Henry is going back to England now?’ said Elizabeth. ‘Truly?’ She could hardly imagine what it would be like without her big brother to confide in.

  ‘And the two Edwards?’ asked Henry.

  ‘Aye, they did mention Edward Clarke and Edward Williams. Messages have gone to them, too.’

  Henry turned to his parents. ‘Am I really going?’

  ‘Indeed you are,’ said his mother, picking up a wooden spoon and stirring the oats. ‘You’ll see all your relatives at Wymondham. And go to school in Norwich with Edward Clarke. He’s going there too. They are good friends of ours, the Clarkes.’ She paused, and clasped the spoon in both hands. ‘We have lots of good friends there. You’ll be safe. And you are fourteen now.’

  ‘When does Captain Sadler wish to depart?’ Mr Kemp cut in.

  ‘In three days,’ said the Captain. ‘I’m sorry to give you such short notice ma’am. He also asks if you would not mind the lad embarking at Whangaroa as he has to load up with spars there, and it would save him a day.’

  ‘We’ll be ready,’ she said. ‘Now what have you brought for us? Are there any letters?’

  ‘Ah, and I nearly forgot.’ The Captain patted his coat and then reached into the inner pocket to produce a packet of letters tied with tape, which he handed to Mrs Kemp.

  She looked through them quickly, sorting them into heaps on the table. The worried frown disappeared from her face as she shuffled through them. ‘These are for the Shepherds and the Edmonds. I’ll send them over. Here’s one for you, James, from the Reverend Tacy. And Candell Clarke too. Oh, and one from sister Anne. We’ll read them later.’ She put the letters together and levelled them with a sharp tap on the table.

  Elizabeth, meanwhile, had moved to where she was able to lift the cutlery from the sideboard across to the table, while standing on one leg. She had developed a great sense of balance since her setback.

  The Captain leant back in his chair and looked about the kitchen. ‘I trust the rest of the family is well?’

  ‘Yes, indeed, we are very lucky,’ said Mr Kemp. ‘Barring Elizabeth’s trouble, all seven of our children are healthy, with another due in a few months’ time. Considering our lack of medical help, we are remarkably fortunate.’

  ‘It certainly seems a healthy place, not like some of the hotter climes we call at.’

  ‘But what’s the news in England; what’s happening over there?’ asked Mr Kemp.

  ‘Well, ’tis several months since I left England, myself,’ said the Captain, ‘but, as far as I know, King William is still on the throne. As I recall, the act abolishing slavery in his Majesty’s dominions was passed in parliament shortly before our departure. Not that I think that would affect you much here.’

  While the men talked, Mrs Kemp continued to stir the porridge, while Elizabeth hopped around the table, laying out the cutlery. When she reached Henry, on an impulse, she put her arms around his neck, dropping the remaining spoons on the table. The clatter drew everyone’s attention.

  ‘I wish you didn’t have to go,’ she mumbled into his collar.

  Henry detached himself, stiff with embarrassment before the visiting sailors. ‘Come on, Lizzie, don’t be silly.’

  ‘But it’s so far away, and for such a long time.’

  ‘It’s not that long. You’ll see, it’ll be gone in no time. Then I’ll be back.’

  ‘It is a long time,’ insisted Elizabeth. ‘Three years! Have you thought how long a year is? Three hundred and sixty-five days. That is nine hundred and … um … three times sixty-five … which is … um …’

  Everyone laughed, including Elizabeth.

  ‘Oh, Lizzie, trust you to complicate things,’ said Henry. ‘Get on with the table.’

  But he had to bite his lip to stop tears springing to his eyes. ‘I don’t suppose things will ever be the same again, though. You might not even be here when I come back,’ he said softly. Elizabeth, hopping around his chair, was the only one to hear him.

  ‘We will still be the same though,’ she whispered. ‘And I don’t think they will move us down south. They couldn’t, could they?’

  Their father was obviously discussing the same matter with the visitors: the proposal of the church committee to move them to a new station, at a place called Tauranga. ‘I’ve written to the committee,’ he stated. ‘I’ve told them we will not even contemplate it, and neither should they. They even talk of abandoning this station. It’s ridiculous! Leaving these buildings which have cost them so much. And imagine my wife and my family being exposed to all the trials and labours attendant upon the formation of a new station. It is a position for younger men. And what about the natives here, we can’t just abandon them? They are our friends.’

  Mr Kemp thumped the table with the flat of his hand. ‘It is quite out of the question, and I have written and told them so. And so has George Clarke.’

  Mrs Kemp came over to the table with a stack of porridge plates and spread them out ready to be filled.

  CHAPTER 2

  After breakfast Mr Kemp departed with the Captain and Mr Shepherd, the other missionary stationed at Kerikeri. Mr Edmonds, the stonemason from Australia who had been working on the store, went too. It was a heavy job, manhandling the mission cases from The Elizabeth onto Te Karere, the mission cutter. Henry was eager to follow, but as he rushed for the door, his mother laid a detaining hand on his arm.

  ‘James can go to help. I want you here.’

  ‘But Mother …’

  ‘No, Henry, if you are to go in two days, you have a lot to do here.’

  ‘What can I do here? I’d be more use helping with the cases.’

  ‘And even more time away,’ she said, with a trace of bitterness.

  Henry paused, then said, ‘Alright Mother, what do you want me to do?’

  ‘Firstly, go to your room and sort your clothes. Bring down those that need washing and anything that might need mending. You will have to sort your school books too and see which you may need to take with you. I’ll get John Taua to bring a trunk down from the attic.’

  Elizabeth came through from the kitchen and she turned to her. ‘Ah, Lizzie, now you could hem some handkerchiefs, couldn’t you? I wonder if I have time to finish those new shirts? The girls can have their sewing class today and they can do handkerchiefs too. It’s as well to have a good supply. I’ve been meaning to do these jobs for weeks. I should have been more prepared. Oh! and there’s the washing. I’ll have to tell Mere to get the copper started and John could split some more wood for her. Thomas Reo could carry up the water.’ She stood at the foot of the stairs, counting things off on her fingers.

  ‘It sounds as though you are organizing the army,’ laughed Henry.

  ‘Sometimes it feels like that, I assure you.’ Suddenly their mother turned and called up the stairs, ‘Mary Ann, are you getting dressed?’

  Elizabeth’s nine-year-old sister came out onto the landing and sat on the top step waving a stocking. She was almost a replica of her older sister; each had long, dark brown hair plaited into a single braid that hung down her back. They had both inherited their mother’s small build, though Mary Ann was the shorter, being younger by three years. Elizabeth had her Mother’s large dark eyes and well-curved eyebrows, whereas it was a constant source of disappointment to Mary Ann that she had taken after her father with his heavy brows. However, she consoled herself with the thought that she had a better shaped nose and smaller feet. To Elizabeth, appearance was a matter of complete indifference.

  ‘I’m up,’ said Mary Ann ‘but I couldn’t find my other stocking. I expect Lizzie has taken it because she hasn’t darned hers. She thinks I don’t know.’

  ‘What an awful thing to say; it’s not true, Mama,’ said Elizabeth hotly. ‘Hers would be far too small, anyway.’

  ‘Oh, Mary Ann, fancy accusing your sister. I’m sure if anyone is behind in their darning, it is more likely to be you. However, we’ll sort that o
ut later. Please go and see that Richard is getting up and then help William and Sarah to wash and dress.’

  ‘But, Mama, William won’t do as I say.’

  ‘Well, tell him he must or he’ll answer to me. Now be a help, dearest. I’ll be very busy today. Lizzie, love, go up with her and see that William behaves.’ She turned back into the kitchen.

  ‘What’s Mama getting all excited about?’ asked Mary Ann, pulling on her one stocking.

  ‘I’m going to England,’ said Henry bluntly.

  ‘England?’ Mary Ann’s eyes glowed. ‘I mean, I’ve know all year that you’re going. But you are really truly going soon? This week?’

  ‘In two days.’

  ‘You boys have all the excitement,’ said Mary Ann.

  Elizabeth, meanwhile, had been watching her brother’s face. ‘You don’t look very excited, Henry. Don’t you want to go?’

  Henry paused, rubbing his hand up and down the bannister rail. ‘Well, we’ve always heard so much about England. About the towns and cities, the big churches … and all the people and carriages, and … and everything.’

  ‘Well,’ said Elizabeth, ‘isn’t that exciting?’

  ‘But I’ve never been anywhere else; never even seen a carriage. The biggest building I’ve seen is the new stone store. I’ll probably ask all the wrong questions and they’ll think I’m stupid, and … and I’ll miss you all.’ He kicked the bottom step.

  ‘I think you’re stupid, anyway,’ flared Mary Ann. ‘I’d give anything to go to England. Just think of seeing all those places, and buying clothes you could try on first.’

  ‘You might even see snow,’ said Elizabeth. ‘Imagine a whole street of houses, big ones too. And remember the pictures of the cathedrals in Father’s book: pillars so huge that people look like mice beside them.’

  ‘And imagine roads that you can drive along without getting stuck in the mud!’ said Mary Ann.

  ‘Oh, you don’t understand,’ said Henry, pushing past Mary Ann, and going up the stairs. She stood and followed him into the boys’ bedroom. Elizabeth followed more slowly. Richard was up and dressed. William was still in bed.