One August day in 1885, a carpenter, Charles Henry Augustus Sweetman, walked into the Crown Lands Office in Auckland and there purchased, without inspection, a piece of land at Te Uku.  It was poor hill country, covered in scrub and could not have been a worse choice.  For him it was an act of withdrawal from human affairs, to read and to study, away from a competitive world.  But for his wife Caroline it was to be the beginning of a life of hardship.

She made the journey to join her husband with their youngest children by boat to Raglan, and then by wagon.  She wept when she saw her new home for the first time.  A bare four walls and room with an earthen floor.  In the middle the only convenience a primitive stove without even a vent for smoke to escape.  The weeping was short lived, there was work to be done.  She was to adapt to the pioneer life as her husband never did.

Fourteen years later, four months before the turn of the century, the seventh child Hardy was born, from whom I gathered the material for this account.  He came into a  world where hardship was commonplace, but in this case there was more.  It was accompanied by hard discipline, demanding instant obedience without question.  No misdemeanor went without severe punishment from their father.  He ruled the household with a rod of iron, permitting only the barest access to schooling - the time was better spent working on the farm.

On the other hand, he respected the most advanced thinking of his time, and acquired through the years, from his earnings as a builder, an extensive library, and he expressed views that would be considered radical today.  He challenged and repudiated conformity.  As an agnostic, when called to take the oath on a Bible, as a witness at a magistrate's court hearing in Raglan, he refused with the assertion "I wish to affirm."  An almost unheard of occurrence at the time.  He protested against the South African War by sitting with his hat on during the playing of the Anthem at a social gathering at Te Uku.  When asked to remove his hat or leave, he refused and the challenger backed down.  His courage and intellectuality compelled a respect he would not otherwise have enjoyed in his children.    They did eventually outgrow their fear of their father, and on one occasion at least, conspired to make him react on a human level.  Ham sandwiches plastered with mustard were placed before him at lunch.  All waited with suspense, expecting an outburst of rage. They were disappointed - after the first mouthful he said "Pass the mustard", added more and ate the sandwich.

Though outwardly dominated, Caroline's gentle compassionate nature shone through every narrative.  The story of how she became totally deaf at an early age is a dramatic one.  Charlie, the eldest son, then about twelve, was sent by his father to the back of the farm to bring home a cow and calf.  Caroline was uneasy as the cow was known to be cantankerous.  She quietly left the house and made her way there, to make sure all was well.  When she reached the scene the cow had attacked the boy, and knocked him down in the mud.   She took off her long skirt and threw it over the animal's head, screaming loudly for help.  Her eardrums burst and she was never to hear again.  

The full extract can be found in the 'Te Uku' book by R.T. Vernon