Graveyard In The Bush. 

August 2007

Arawata Cemetery, Haast. Situated between Neils Beach and Jackson Bay, this cemetery is the burial site for some of the first European settlers to come to Jackson Bay as part of the unsuccessful settlement programme in 1875. The forest has reclaimed most graves with only some sites still discernible. The story of an unsuccessful settlement at Jackson Bay is one of hardship, premature death and shattered dreams.

A poem was written of this graveyard by Dinny (Denis) Nolan of his memories as a boy attending the burial services and then coming back years later to the graveyard.

Biography of Dinny & Paddy Nolan, brothers. Sons of Andrew Nolan and his wife, Mary, formally  Spillane. Irish immigrants who moved to Jackson Bay in April 1875 on the ambitious immigration and public works programme that was a failure.

For Genealogy and History interest I requested some information on the cemetery and a list of who is buried here.

I would like to thank the Department of Conservation, Haast Field Centre, for sending me copies of some research that has been done on the cemetery and for the list of Settlers arriving Jackson Bay.

I make no claim to this research as my own and take no responsibility for any information that may be incomplete or incorrect.

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Engraved:  TO THE MEMORY OF THE EARLY PIONEERS WHO LAY AT REST HERE OR IN SOME OTHER LONELY GRAVE.

THIS ROCK FROM JACKSONS BAY IS UPPER PALEOZOIC. VOLCANIC CONGLOMERATE GLACIALLY DERIVED FROM THE MOUNTAINS TO THE SOUTH WEST.

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The poem is shown with permission

of Neroli Nolan ( Granddaughter )

 Dinny  Nolan’s Poems.

 Taken from: The Droving Days. A History of Cattle Raising and Droving in South

 Westland.  Author: By W.D (Bill) Nolan

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The Graveyard in the Bush

The place is a wayback countryside,

Just after the golden rush.

The scene is a little graveyard, a clearing in the bush.

The settlers they attended there on sad and mournful days.

I attended on those solemn days, then a little child I’d be,

But outlines of those happenings, they still come back to me.

It was sad to view bereaved ones, but the sympathy was kind,

And it left a great impression on my little childish mind.

Each time a soul departed the settlers felt they must

Assemble there, one and all, at that graveyard in the bush.

The widower, he’s standing there, his little babe’s at home,

It shall never now know mother’s care, for the mother she has gone.

With grief he’s quite distracted, I heard him cry and rave,

I saw stout men lay hands on him and drag him from the grave.

Another time a mother, she had lost a loving son,

The rest had gone and left her, he was then the only one.

I don’t like to tell the story, it might make you sad and fret,

But the passing at that graveside I shall never more forget.

Many more were buried there in those pioneering days,

I recall the lovely flowers that flourished near the graves.

All enclosed with wooden railings as neat as it could be,

Seemed like a little paradise in its plain simplicity.

I returned there long years after, I was then an aged man,

The place was quite deserted, all settlement was gone.

There in my seclusion old memories on me rushed,

And my first impulse it was to seek that graveyard in the bush.

I feel that I should tell you what I gazed upon,

The tangled scrub it towered above, and the clearing all was gone.

And those crude wooden crosses which as a child I’d seen,

Were buried neath that tangled mass, and oblivion reigned supreme.

I tried to force an entrance to locate the place,

But blackberry it barred the way, and tore my hands and face.

I sat there sad and lonely, and I could not help reflect,

Is this remembrance after life, is this what we might expect.

When our span of life has ended, our voice forever hushed,

Will we lapse into oblivion in some graveyard in the bush?

The past in vision came to me, my childhood days returned,

My soul cried out resentment, while my heart with pity mourned.

I ceased my wanderings round the place for in fancy I could see,

Those sorrowing relations who once appealed to me.

I could see them in their motor cars, all dressed in raiment gay,

And their laughter falling softly, in such a pleasant way.

They seemed to want for nothing, seemed to have the best,

Heedless of their poor relation in this wilderness to rest.

We mourn our dear departed ones, and our sorrow it is real,

That they cannot live without them, the bereaved ones truly feel.

But old King Time comes to the rescue, and our grief will pass away,

When out of night that seemed so hopeless, will dawn again the day.

There’s one on high who loves us, if Christian faith we keep,

And he cares for us tenderly, no matter where we sleep.

When we rise up eternal, when sin and strife on earth are hushed,

None will be forgotten in that graveyard in the bush.

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Lists of those known buried here

List of Settlers arriving at Jacksons Bay

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