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Volume 2 No 1
1987
ISSN 0111-8773
Cover: Trafalgar Hotel, Nelson, c. 1915. Tyree Collection NPM.
This, the first issue of Volume Two of the Nelson and Marlborough Historical Societies' Journal, marks a major change in format. The larger size will allow more flexibility in layout and improve presentation of photographs, particularly the older, historical ones. The printers of previous Journals, R. W. Stiles and Co., were not available to print this issue in an enlarged format and I acknowledge their past interest and support.
I also thank the authors of the various articles in this issue. It is important that our history continues to be made known and in this our Journal has an important role. It is also imperative that historical material is preserved and we are fortunate that both Nelson and Marlborough have centres where archives are kept.
Any old papers, photographs, diaries, company or club records should be appraised by staff at the Nelson Provincial Museum, or by the Archives Committee of the Marlborough Historical Society, before disposal. We must also ensure that both organisations continue to receive sufficient financial support to continue their valuable roles.
Finally, on behalf of both Societies, I thank Dawn Smith, your editor, John Davies of the Marlborough Historical Society and Ian Simpson, who negotiated with various printers so that we could go to a larger Journal size.
Published by
Nelson Historical Society Incorporated
C/- P.O. Box 2069
Stoke, Nelson, N.Z.
Copyright: Portions of the Journal should not be reprinted without the permission of the Committee of the Nelson Historical Society and should be acknowledged to them.
We are grateful to the Nelson Provincial Museum, the Marlborough Historical Society and contributors for making photographs available.
Costs and measurements are given in the form in use at the time: 1 foot = 30cm, 1 mile = 1.6 kilometres, 1 pound weight = 0.453 kilograms, 1 acre = 0.404 hectares. At the time of conversion one pound equalled two dollars. This has changed with inflation, etc.
Printed by Anchor Press Ltd, Nelson.
School rolls, registers and classification lists are becoming an increasingly important tool in the search for genealogical information. Individuals researching their family histories are turning to them, not only to expand the knowledge they already possess, but also as an important primary resource. In the absence of other information, these listings can provide any, or all, of the following information: date of birth, names of parents or guardians, an address, schools attended before and after that in which they are currently enrolled, admittance to boarding establishments and occupations at the end of education.
It was in such a genealogical context that the roll for Bishop's School was first examined. The names of the children of an ancestor were proving to be exceedingly enigmatic, as they had been registered only as males at the time of their births. It was with relief and the usual element of delighted surprise that three of them were found:
Examination of the printed rolls for Nelson College indicated that Frank continued his education there from 1868–71 and Arthur from 1872–75. A headstone at the Wakapuaka Cemetery and the Registrar's records completed the life of Albert William Richard, who died on January 1, 1878 from appendicitis.
In the course of indexing this roll (1), it became apparent that it was more than a genealogical resource. Not only was the history of the school closely inter-woven with the history of the Anglican Diocese of Nelson, but also with the educational and social development of Nelson City itself.
Bishop's School had its beginnings with Bishop Selwyn, in August 1842. He planned an educational system which involved the establishment of church schools in all the main settlements. There were to be two branches, elementary and grammar, the latter to prepare students for St John's College, Tamaki. There are no school rolls extant for this period (1852–54) for Nelson, but William Hammond, J. Home, John Greenwood and Joseph Foorde Wilson are named as foundation members of the grammar school. Thomas Miles, Henry Beit, Thomas Wilson, James Wilson, James Hooper, Frederick Howeard, George Howard were among the private pupils.
The actual numbers attending the school are hard to estimate. Bishop Selwyn, in 1845, mentions 80 (2), whereas the Examiner of the same year says about 60 boys and girls (3). Selwyn, three years later, in 1848, indicated that there were 100 pupils in attendance (4), but the headmaster, H. F. Butt, in a report for that year, writes that the "number of
In 1854 the school was closed. The major reasons appear to have been the lack of endowment, coupled with parents' unwillingness to pay fees for education. Politically too, there was confusion. Rev. Charles Reay, the clergyman responsible for the school had, both publicly and privately, mis-represented the Nelson School Society Schools (Matthew Campbell Schools) to the Bishop, especially in the matter of religious education. Bishop Selwyn personally examined pupils, at the time of his 1848 visit and found this to be completely untrue. Public approval of the schools following this (6) certainly added to their popularity and, conversely, reduced the importance of Bishop's School in the providing of education.
The Nelson Education Act, in 1856, took over the schools of the Nelson School Society, except for Sunday School purposes. Bishop's School was let to the Local Board of Education as a boys' and girls' school. 1859 saw the arrival of Edmund Hobhouse, consecrated first Bishop of Nelson and it was he, out of his own pocket, who saw to the reestablishment of Bishop's School. This included the restoration of the old brick building, a wooden extension and then, in 1863, the erection of a further private classroom. It is in 1860 that the extant school roll begins, and it is this roll which is the subject of this paper.
It is a paper which will point to areas in Nelson's social and educational history which should be further investigated. Comparative work on school rolls, especially that of Nelson College and the surrounding contributing schools, may have a marked bearing on, and change, some of the conclusions drawn here. An analysis of the geographical development of the city, through plans and rating rolls, would broaden the scope of the material which could be drawn into investigations of this kind in the future.
Four boys were enrolled in October 1860:
These pupils were joined, in January 1861, by a further sixteen, three of whom were Taranaki refugees. Nelson offered hospitality for over 1200 Taranaki settlers, especially women and children, during the land wars in that area. Hospitality was provided throughout the city, Motueka and Waimea in homes, by the building of cottages and with some institutions vacating their premises (7).
The first foray into the School's roll is social and historical, but before investigating any further, some comments need to be made about the roll itself. Initially, the matter of its consistency needs to be raised. Quite simply, the information contained in it is not consistent. This can be seen in the seven enrolments which have been used as examples so far, and becomes increasingly evident, when an attempt is made to establish just how many boys were present at the school in any particular year. To estimate numbers, a variety of methods have been used, all of which, in combination, are not a totally accurate re-creation.
Basically the school roll contains the names of 560 admittances. Re-admittances occurred for a number of reasons, including families returning from overseas, boys returning from Nelson College and indebtedness. This reduces the actual number of boys involved to 549. First then, the actual numbers of boys enrolling in any one year are shown (Figure 1).
To achieve a more accurate picture of the numbers on the roll, other sources of information have been used to expand this initial total. The number of boys whose continued presence at the school, in subsequent years, is indicated either by a notation of the year and month of leaving, or by a listing of the years and months the boy was at the school, has been added in. If information was available about a boy's presence at Nelson College, either from the printed register, or the Bishop's School roll, this has also been included. If a pupil is listed as having enrolled at Nelson College in a particular year, the end of the previous year has been taken as being his last at Bishop's School. The result is not entirely accurate, because the moving from one school to another was, at this time, not necessarily continuous. It must also be noted that, in the case of some individuals, the Nelson College Register, as printed, does not agree with the information in the Bishop's School roll. Where this is evident, the latter has been taken as confirmation, but obviously further investigation into this matter is necessary.
In the front of the school roll are two lists, which have been used as a third source. One list is headed July 7 and, by carefully working through the names of the boys, it has been possible to establish that it is for 1874. This means that where there is a date for a boy's enrolment, and his presence in 1874 is confirmed by this list, his continued attendance at the school was reflected in the roll numbers. The other list, which seems to be related to the first, provides names and addresses, persumably where accounts were to be sent. It is interesting to note the difference between the children's names and the people to whom the accounts were to be sent. This will be followed up later.
Finally, the prize lists contained in the Nelson Diocesan Gazette have been used. Where a name indicates a prize-winner in a particular year, the boy has been deemed to have been present from the year of enrolment until that time, even when the roll itself contains no ongoing indication of his presence. The combined result is shown in figure 2.
Where there are discrepancies between these figures and those from known sources, this is noted. It is the best that can be done with the material available, given the fact that there were numerous boys whose final leaving date was unknown from any of these sources. To this must be added the complication of evening classes. Bishop's School offered both day and evening classes, and it is unclear whether the roll contains both sets of pupils, or only those who attended one, but not the other.
Parents who enrolled their boys at Bishop's Schol chose a particular kind of education for them, and were also required to pay fees. The Nelson Evening Mail of July 14, 1862, advertised the beginning of the winter quarter on July 24, with evening classes beginning on July 28. T. A. Bowden, the manager, advertised that he would be at the schoolroom on July 23, to examine pupils and to collect fees. These were set at thirty shillings per term, with a one pound entrance fee. The Nelson Examiner advertised the same fees on October 1, 1862, with the additional information that the evening classes, for older pupils, would meet four times weekly and that sixty were expected after the Christmas holidays. A few boarders could be provided for at fifty pounds per year.
The same advertisement indicated that the school offered a sound commercial education, with the elements of a classical education. This theme was echoed by Bishop Suter at the 1880 prize-giving:
The prospectus for 1887 sets this out in a more formal manner, as well as indicating a twelve shilling per term rise in the fees, over twenty-five years. W. K. Tomlinson expands the evidence on the curriculum for the time at which he was attending. Book-keeping by the double entry method, plus short-hand, drama and the "higher branches of mathematics, algebra, euclid trigonometry and elementary science formed part of the senior class subjects".(9).
It is difficult to find comparative figures for the fees paid. However, in 1872, when the fees were between thirty and forty-two shillings per term, W. Galbraith of Richmond advertised boots and shoes at the following prices: First class water-tights twentyfour shillings, Lace-up boots twenty shillings, Women's fourteen shillings & sixpence, boy's and girl's six shillings to fourteen shillings. Chimney pots in 1887 were between five and thirty shillings each, and a washing machine (Bradford's Vowel A1) was seven pounds seven shillings in England.
The sum for fees was, therefore, not inconsiderable. This was compounded when more than one member of a family was present at the school at the same time. It has been possible to establish that 51.91% of the pupils had brothers present, either before, with, or after them. This may be up to 53.35% if additional, but not well substantiated, clues are taken into account. It was therefore, in large part, a school which was self-perpetuating. At least half the boys had on-going family contact, lasting, in the case of the Gaukrodger family of Foxhill, through six members from 1882–1895, the Levien family of Nile Street East, from 1869–1893, and the Walker family of Cambria Street, from 1864–1890.
The other feature of brothers attending the school is that there is no consistency, within families, about the age at which they enrolled.
To take the Stanton family again: Arthur enrolled at 8 years, Frank at 10 and Albert at 11. Whether they were at other schools, prior to this, has not been established. Note also the age at which they proceeded to Nelson College: Arthur at 11 years and Frank at 12. Albert, according to the lack of evidence at Nelson College at the time of his death, was still attending Bishop's School at age 13. Other families exhibit the same lack of consistency.
Ernest, Frank, John, Joseph and Robert Low enrolled at Bishop's School at 9 years 8 months, 14 years 2 months, 13 years 4 months, 11 years 2 months and 12 years 9 months respectively.
Some families moved all their boys on to Nelson College together. Hugh P. Costabadie and his brother, Vincent, of The Hayes, Stoke, enrolled at Bishop's School in February 1894 aged 13 years 4 months and 11 years 4 months respectively. They both attended Nelson College from 1895–1897.
Newton H. Goulstone enrolled in January 1871, aged 9 years 6 months and William, his brother, in January 1873, aged 9 years 5 months. Both were at Nelson College in 1878.
Bishop's School's relationship with Nelson College is worth exploring in more detail. Andrew Burn Suter, Bishop of Nelson, clearly indicated at the 1880 Prize-giving, that he thought of the school as a preparatory one for Nelson College, for some boys:
Another factor was the age of admission. Nelson College would not accept pupils under the age of nine years, unless they were able to:
This presupposes education at a previous source and some of this was certainly obtained at Bishop's School, as Figure 4 shows.
It indicates the number of boys per year beginning at Nelson College, who had spent at least the previous year at Bishop's School.
A comparison of the roll numbers during the time that the two schools co-existed shows the competition in the early years stabilising, in the case of Bishop's School, in the latter ones.
In all, 135 boys went on to Nelson College from the school. Throughout its history, Bishop's School was contributing, and substantially so, to Nelson College. To what degree this comment can also be applied to other elementary schools awaits the investigation of their rolls, in association with that of Nelson College.
Bishop's School must have been affected by the opening of other schools in the area. These would have drawn off boys from the periphery of the Bishop's School's city catchment area, which was approximately one kilometer in circumference. By 1878 the following schools were open: Bridge Street, Bridge Street Boys' Preparatory, Hardy Street Girls', Haven Road, Toi Toi Valley Girls' and Infants'. Brook Street opened in 1892 and Boys' Central School in 1894. The Roman Catholic schools, begun by Father Garin in the 1850s, had always accommodated Protestants and, with the opening of what is now St Joseph's, even more places were available.
Under the Provincial system of education, there was a general educational property rate of one pound, with an additional special rate of five shillings for every child living within three miles of a school, whether attending or not. There was a limit of one pound for large families. This meant that, although there was no compulsion to attend school, parents usually took advantage of the facilities available. With the establishment of the national system, under the 1877 Education Act, education was free for all children from 5–15 years. There was a statutory obligation upon all parents, resident within two miles of a school, to send children aged 7 to 13 years, for at least half of the period in each school year in which the school was open.
Evidence of boys leaving Bishop's School for other local schools is almost non-existent. Bridge Street School is named in three instances. Interestingly enough, in the majority of situations, money is the stated reason for boys leaving. This is examined in more detail later.
The social structure of the school can be gleaned by examining the parental occupations of the boys enrolled.
Further investigation is needed to provide comparative data relating to other local schools, and to the social structure of the city of Nelson at this time (1860–95). It is still very clear, however, that one whole facet of the social order is missing — the unskilled worker. There is only one labourer's son listed in the whole school roll. William Street had managed to obtain a singing scholarship, available to boys who sang in the Anglican Cathedral choir,(12) but he left when it terminated.
At the other end of the stratum there are the political elite, both provincial and national. There is ample evidence of the professions, but again, information about their individual backgrounds would be needed to establish their upper, or middle-class socio-economic standing. The majority of the parents were shopkeepers, clerks, agents, merchants, or skilled tradesmen, who appear to have been working largely on their own account, with or without employees. This is further evidenced in the occupations their sons followed when they left school, as shown later, in Table 4.
The 1887 prospectus claimed that the school was by no means confined to the sons of Church of England parents, indeed:
When the figures in Table 2 are examined, this claim can be substantiated. Religious instruction was a clearly enunciated part of the curriculum, which involved the reading of the Bible and the teaching of doctrines common to all Protestants. This is not a matter which seems to have assumed any importance, indeed there is only one annotation in the school roll which indicates any unease. The name of Arthur Pritchard Lucas, listed as a Dissenter, has along side of it "can learn ch.(13) catechism".
The range of religious denominations probably had more to do with the subjects offered; subjects deemed suitable in the quest for upward social mobility which education was seen to offer, by the parents who chose to enrol their sons there.
Surrounding this is the well-developed emphasis which the Nelson settlement put on education.
Bishop's School had an education "name" outside the city of Nelson. Boys came from as far afield as Lyttelton to attend the school. The West Coast provided boys from Greymouth, Totara Flat, Reefton, Brighton, Westport, Karamea and Inangahua. Marlborough sent boys from Awatere, Wairau, Blenheim, Tuamarina, Picton and Havelock. In the Nelson district boys came from Collingwood, Motueka, Upper Moutere, Motupiko, Foxhill, 88 Valley, Wakefield, Spring Grove, Brightwater, Richmond, Stoke and Wakapuaka.
Boys were boarded informally, with friends and relations, and at the Headmaster's residence. A formal boarding establishment was opened in 1876, in Ngatitama Street. For this to have been a viable proposition, there must have been many more boys enrolled as boarders than the seven shown in the roll from 1876–1895.
The age at which these out-of-town boys enrolled deserves enquiry, especially when it is compared with the age of enrolment of all pupils.
Generally, the most common age of enrolment was between 9 years and 9 years 11 months, gradually tapering off. Yet at the 14 years to 14 years 11 months mark there is another peak, making the graph bi-modal. This correlates, quite markedly, with the peak
There is a possibility that Bishop's School had the aura of a finishing school amongst some of these parents. Boys, at that time, were sent to town when they were considered to be of an age to cope adequately with being away from home. It is unlikely that these boys were able to take advantage of the shorter holidays, to return home. Transport to places like the West Coast, by sea or land, was fraught with difficulties.
Note: Where more than one reason is given both are included in the table.
Reasons for leaving Bishop's School were many and varied, as Table 3 indicates.
32% moved directly into education of some kind. To this must be added those who took up apprenticeships and farming, as this involved more specific ongoing education. The occupations detailed on the roll may, or may not, be characteristic of the kind of work available in Nelson at that time, for school leavers. As has been previously mentioned, the school seems to have attracted parents with occupations indicative of a specific social sphere, so the information may be more relevant to that sphere in particular.
Note: Numbers in brackets indicate cases where, although the roll does not state that the child left for financial reasons, it seems probable.
Some boys left for financial reasons. The education of 28 boys was affected in this way. 28 boys is only 5% of the school population, but it still must have been devastating for the people concerned. The important question is — how representative is this of the
Nelson community at the time? Certainly the country suffered a depression during the 1880s. It may be evidence of the undermining of community development and personal advancement, which occurred at that time.
Bishop's School had parents whose occupations were dependent upon the selling of goods and services to others. If this could not be maintained at a level which enabled a family to survive, education at a fee-paying school had to be terminated. Most of the boys who left for financial reasons moved on to a government school.
Ill-health is not usually a reason for leaving school, yet Table 6 underlines the widespread awareness that children were not necesarily going to survive into adulthood. Cognisance must also be taken of the evidence that six boys left because of the deaths of their fathers, presumably to aid their families ongoing survival. Added to this must be the high incidence of widows, listed under parents' occupations in Table 2. The potential for an intact family, throughout a pupil's childhood, was certainly reduced.
Those pupils who survived these various external onslaughts, most commonly spent betwen 1 year and 1 year 11 months at Bishop's School.
There is a marked correlation between the pupils who enrolled at a younger age, and those who left after 5–8 years. Obviously this would depend on the strengths, weaknesses and educational inclinations of individual pupils. The actual ages of leaving are provided in Figure 8.
It is clearly a bi-modal graph. This is further evidenced in the mean age of leaving, 13 years 6 months, the median age, 13 years 8 months and the mode, or most common age of leaving, 15 years.
Bishop's School roll has been used as a test case. This analysis has provided an indication of the wealth of information about the School's pupils and their parents, contained within and between its lines of figures and names.
Additional investigation into Nelson's social and educational past may change the conclusions drawn here. In concert with this additional probing, the roll could provide even more evidence for the historian.
My thanks to the staff of the Nelson Provincial Museum for their unfailing good humour during 1981–82, when this research was undertaken and, especially, to Dawn Smith, Librarian, for coping with one small, sleeping boy between the book-stacks.
Today, looking at Wharehunga Bay (Grass Cove), it is hard to credit the bloody and tragic events which occurred there, on that fateful summer's evening, two hundred and fourteen years ago. On 17 December 1773, ten men from Cook's consort vessel Adventure, were killed and eaten by the Maoris.
The most remarkable thing about the whole incident was Cook's attitude throughout. He was not in the Sound at the time, and only became aware of events gradually. For all that, his attitude was remarkable. He was not concerned with revenge, or justice even; his chief concern was to find out exactly what had gone wrong. After his first disastrous brushes with Maoris, in Poverty Bay in 1769, Cook had been able to treat the natives with "distinguished humanity", as it was suggested he should do, in his instructions from the Admiralty.
Up until the incident of Wharehunga Bay, his relationships with the natives of Queen Charlotte Sound had been excellent. That they continued that way, after the incident, was also a measure of his essential humanity. He had gone out of his way to treat them here, as elsewhere in the Pacific, with humanity, more than many of his contemporaries did; and perhaps more than some of those serving under him were inclined to do. This latter factor is, probably, the crux of the whole matter. How did the incident come about then?
Because of the near loss of Endeavour on Great Barrier Reef, on Cook's first voyage, it had been decided that, on subsequent voyages, there should be consort vessels. In the event of one being lost, most of the crews and the information gathered, should then have a greater chance of surviving. For this reason, Cook had the Adventure, under Captain Tobias Furneaux, as company on his second voyage, July 1772-July 1775.
Up to a point, the consort vessel idea worked. Ships were prone to separation during heavy weather and, unless commanders did as Cook did and gave subordinates explicit rendezvous instructions, the value of the exercise was lost. The Resolution and Adventure were separated twice on Cook's second voyage. The first time, in the southern Indian Ocean, on 8 February 1773. They did not meet again until their planned rendezvous, at Cook's first voyage refuge, Queen Charlotte Sound, on 8 May 1773. After managing to stay together for almost all of a large subsequent circuit through the Pacific, 7 June – 25 October, they were again separated, in a gale off Cape Palliser. This time there was to be no rendezvous.
Cook stayed close to the New Zealand coast, while Furneaux ran before the Nor' Westerly winds, out into the Pacific. Cook arrived off Ship Cove on 3 November 1773, but Furneaux did not arrive until 30 November. In the meantime, Cook had refitted his ship and had virtually given up all chance of finding the Adventure:—
"…as to the
AdventureI despair of seeing her any more but I am totally at a loss to conceive what is become of her…"
Cook sailed from Ship Cove, on a second foray into the Pacific, on 25 November. He and Furneaux missed each other merely by days. Obviously, he felt duty bound to get on with the work he was sent to do, rather than sit and wait for the Adventure. Cook wrote, on quitting the New Zealand coast:
"I had the satisfaction to find that not a man was dejected or thought the dangers we had to go through were in the least increased by being alone".
He had taken the precaution of leaving a bottle, containing instructions, buried under a tree at Ship Cove, in case Furneaux should turn up.
Furneaux found the bottle, upon his arrival, but was unable to put to sea immediately, because of the storm damage sustained by the "Adventure". He quickly set about getting the ship and crew seaworthy again. He achieved this in just over a fortnight, by 17 December 1773.
As one of Cook's pupils, Furneaux was also well schooled in the need for anti-scorbutics, to keep the dreaded sea-scurvy at bay. One of his last acts, before sailing, was to send the ship's cutter to gather 'wild greens' for this purpose. The boat was under instructions to return the same evening, the 17th, as the Adventure was putting to sea the following morning.
At this point, the tale is perhaps best taken up by Furneaux himself:
"But on the boat's not returning the same evening nor the next morning, being under great uneasiness abouther, I hoisted out the Launch, and sent her with Second Lieutenant, Mr Burney, manned with the boat's crew and ten marines, in search of her. My orders to Mr Burney were, first to look well into East Bay and then to proceed to Grass Cove, the place to which Mr Rowe had been sent…"
Furneaux did not, at this stage, believe that anything more untoward than the boat having gone adrift, or having been holed, could be involved:
"This was almost everybody's opinion; and on this supposition the carpenter's mate was sent in the launch with some sheets of tin".
This reflected the existing state of relations between Cook's crews and the local Maori population. There had been some pilfering, on both sides, but nothing more serious than that. There had been no hint of violence towards the Europeans.
Lieutenant Burney returned, at about eleven pm, on the evening of 18 December. He had an horrific tale to recount:
On the 18th we left the ship, and having a light breeze in our favour, we soon got round Long Island".
He then went to the head of East Bay, searched a Maori village and then made his way down the eastern side of East Bay, searching every bay as they went. They searched another village, probably in Otanerau Bay, and carried on down the eastern shore of Arapawa Island, until they came through the passage between Pickersgill Island and Arapawa Island:
"…in a small beach adjoining to Grass Cove we saw a very large double canoe just haul'd up, with 2 men and a Dog – the men on seeing us, left their Canoe and ran up into the woods – this gave me reason to suspect I should here get tidings of the Cutter".
In one canoe they found one of the rowlock ports of the cutter and some shoes, which were known to belong to one of the midshipmen accompanying Rowe's party. They also found something more sinister:
"One of the people at the same time brought me a piece of meat, which he took to be some of the salt meat belonging to the Cutter's crew…I found it was fresh. Mr Fannin (the Master), who was with me, suppos'd it was Dog's flesh…but we were soon convinced by the most horrid and undeniable proof. A great many baskets (about 20) were laying on the beach tied up – we cut them open, some were full of roasted flesh and some of fern-root which serves them for bread".
Further search produced conclusive proof: the hand of one Thomas Hill, which had been tattooed with the initials "T.H." in Tahiti. There was also "a round spot covered with fresh earth", this was the "umu" or oven. They began digging, but were distracted by "a Great Smoke ascending over the nearest hill". They pulled the boat off and made for the site of the smoke, Grass Cove. There they found one single canoe and three double canoes and a "place throng'd like a Fair". Burney ordered a musketoon fired through one of the canoes, in case it was concealing Maoris. As soon as they got close enough, they fired volleys at the Maoris, who retreated to the hill in the centre of the Cove.
They continued to fire as long as they could glimpse anyone in the trees. Most fled off "howling". Two, however, "never offer'd to move till they found themselves forsaken by the companions & then they walk'd away with great composure and deliberation". Subsequent investigation by Cook revealed that, in fact, those volleys of musketry inflicted no casualties upon the Maoris. Burney then landed with the marines, to search the beach. They found two bundles of celery (scurvy grass) and a broken oar, stuck upright in the ground, to which the Maoris had tied their canoes. They searched the back of the beach to see if the cutter was there. They found no boat but:
"…such a shocking scene of Carnage and Barbarity as can never be mentioned or thought of, but with horror; for the Heads, Hearts and Lungs of several of our people were seen lying on the beach, at a little distance, the dogs gnawing their Entrails".
We can only imagine the thoughts of Burney and the marines; the feelings of horror going through their minds at this time. Burney said they stood "stupified" by the sight. However, darkness was falling and they could hear the Maoris on the hill above them. Prudence demanded their withdrawal to the boat. There they smashed the canoes and fired a volley or two, at the sound of the voices on the hill. It was now drizzling and several of the flintlock muskets misfired. They then made their way back, to report their news to Furneaux who, incidentally, was related to Rowe. The unfortunates lost in the cutter were:
"Mr Rowe, Mr Woodhouse, Francis Murphy Quartermaster, Wm Facey, Thos. Hill, Edwd Jones, Michael Bell, Jno Cavenaugh, Thos Milton and James Swilley, The Captn's Man".
The few remains they were able to recover were committed to the deep in Ship Cove. Furneaux made sail for home as soon as he could.
Lieutenant Burney did not believe that the massacre was a premeditated act, but that it had arisen from some quarrel and from "…our people being so very incautious and thinking themselves too Secure". He was proved correct, but had to wait four years to find out what had actually happened.
Cook received inklings of it, however, when he returned to Ship Cove on 19 October 1774, after his wider sweep through the South Pacific, but could not make much of it. Cook and his crew noticed that the Maoris were loathe to come too close to them. Upon enquiring: "they talk'd much about killing which was so variously understood by us that it meant nothing".
Cook did discover that the bottle, with the message for "Adventure", had been dug up and, seeing an area of trees felled that they had not been responsible for, and an area where an observatory had been set up:
"It was no longer to be doubted that the "Adventure" had been in this cove after we had left it".
Pursuing the story of the killings, Cook could only elucidate that a ship "like ours had
In the original telling, this story was supposed to have happened near Cape Terewhiti, on the Wellington side of the strait. Other Maoris told Cook a similar story, except the setting was East Bay. Another group mentioned "Caurey" to Mr Wales, his observer, but would admit nothing of it to Cook. This meant nothing to Cook at the time, but was, in fact, a reference to Kahura, the perpetrator of the deed.
These stories made Cook very uneasy about the Adventure. His old friend, Pedero, arrived later at Ship Cove and allayed most of Cook's fears about the Adventure, explaining that she had come and gone, since his last trip into the Pacific. However, to the end of his stay at Ship Cove, he was suspicious that some sort of disaster had happened to "some other strangers". For example, Cook related how "one man received a box on the ear for naming it to some of our people". The massacre's telling had to wait until Cook got home, the following July. The full story had to wait, until Cook returned in 1777.
When, on his third voyage, Cook dropped anchor in Ship Cove on 13 February 1777, the local Maoris showed an even more marked reluctance to come on board. Seeing Omai, the Tahitian interpreter, who had been on the "Adventure" at the time of the incident, on board the "Resolution", reinforced this reluctance.
Cook had to make it quite clear that he was not there to exact "utu" for the incident, before any Maoris could be enticed on board. Even then, they obviously feared treachery. Only when they were convinced that he was not going to take revenge, did groups from all over the Sound begin to gather in Ship Cove.
On 16 February, Cook took the opportunity of visiting Grass Cove:
"Whilst we were at this place our curiosity prompted us to enquire into the circumstances attending the melancholy fate of our countrymen".
Two stories emerged. The first suggested that, while the crew of the boat were sitting down to their evening meal, some Maoris stole, or snatched, some bread and fish. They were beaten by the crew members involved and this affront to their "mana" led to a quarrel, in which two firearms were discharged and two Maoris killed. These were the only arms the men had with them, the rest being in the cutter, two hundred yards away, on the other side of the cove. The remaining Maoris fell upon the group and they were quickly overpowered and killed, having no other means of defending themselves.
The second version suggested that it happened at the same time as in the first account. The boat's crew, with the exception of James Swilley, the Negro, were sitting down to a meal in late afternoon, in the southern corner of Wharehunga Bay. Swilley had been left in charge of the cutter, which was beached in the northern part of the cove. In this version, one Maori attempted to steal something out of the boat, but was caught by Swilley, who laid into him with a stick. His companions, believing him killed, sought revenge by attacking the group at their meal and overpowered them, because of their lack of arms.
A third version was subsequently told by Kahura, the chief involved. After considerable persuasion, Cook was finally able to entice Kahura to come on board "Resolution" at Ship Cove. This in itself was remarkable, because Kahura was no doubt expecting that, once on board, he would be killed. The other Maoris at Ship Cove had been importuning Cook to do this and it would have been expected under the Maori code. It was an incident demanding "utu". If the incident demanded it and the opportunity was there, but not taken, then the wronged person's "mana" declined accordingly. However, Cook make his position quite clear to those seeking Kahura's death:
"I should think no more of it the transaction having happened long ago, and when I was not present; but that if ever they made a second attempt of that kind, they might rest assured of feeling the weight of my resentment".
Cook was exercising that degree of humanity which was essentially his. It was clear to Cook too, that Kahura expected instant death, when he was left alone with him and questioned. Cook could not but help admire his courage, for having knowingly allowed himself to be put in that situation.
Kahura's story was that a stone hatchet was brought, to barter with the Europeans. It was accepted by one of the ill-fated crew of the cutter, who then refused to give anything in return. The Maori who owned the hatchet snatched up the bread in retaliation. The quarrel quickly escalated to the drawing of arms. Kahura stated that he avoided being shot by ducking behind the boat. This suggests that the main fracas took place near the boat. Apart from that, his story did not differ substantially from the other two. Cook subsequently discounted the stone hatchet story, saying it was merely a device to make the Europeans appear in the wrong.
Lieutenant Burney, who sailed again with Cook on the third voyage, as second in command of the consort vessel Discovery, has perhaps left the most useful insight and one for which there is corroborative evidence. He stated:
"The best account I have been able to gather, is that our people were dining on the beach; during their meal, a Zealander stole something out of the boat, and was making off with it, on which Mr Rowe fired and killed the thief on the spot. The Zealanders immediately sallied out of the Woods and got between our people and the boat. They say Rowe fired twice and killed another man, but the people's muskets had been left in the boat, nobody but himself having any firearms, so that they were easily overpowered and fell from imagining themselves too secure".
Whatever the precursor of the massacre, it is clear that the lack of that "distinguished humanity", the forbearance that Cook would have used, turned what could have been a minor incident, into a full scale tragedy.
George Forster, one of the naturalists on the "Resolution", had some enlightening things to say of Mr Rowe. He recorded that, on an earlier occasion, Rowe would have killed some Maoris for theft, had it not been for "the judicious and humane advice of Lieutenant Burney". Forster said of him:
"Mr Rowe, the unfortunate youth who had the command of this boat, combined with many liberal sentiments, the prejudices of a naval education, which induced him to look upon all the natives of the South Sea with contempt and to assume that kind of right over them, with which the Spaniards in more barbarous ages, disposed of the lives of the American Indians".
It was this sort of assumption, which spelled the death of the nine men under Mr Rowe's command. Had Mr Rowe been a little more like Lieutenant Burney, or indeed Cook himself, ten men would have returned to the Adventure that night, a little weary, after the long pull back from Grass Cove, but still very alive. The impetuosity of youth can hardly excuse his having put the lives of his men at risk.
Obviously that thought never even occurred to this particular midshipman. The notion of cultural superiority, and all the assumptions about technology and race that are
It is apparent that, on neither occasion, was there any premeditation on the part of the Maoris. In the 1843 Wairau Affray, it was only when blood had been spilt that the Maoris took to settling the matter, in their own time-honoured way. It is one of the little ironies of history that the party who, by education, religious background and instruction, should have shown the most forbearance, did not. Another irony is that, in not doing so, they also paid an horrific penalty.
Today, Wharehunga Bay is a reserve, under the care of the Department of Conservation. The nation is fortunate that its former owners were willing to offer it to the crown. Perhaps, in time, the site will be marked and some interpretation of the incident provided.
The bay immediately adjacent to Wharehunga, to the north, has been named Burney's Beach, in recognition of his discoveries there. In the southern corner is a cairn, commemorating the incident. It is a moot point as to whether that particular section of beach is where he actually made his discovery. A careful reading of his account, and a look at the ground in question, suggests not.
Little evidence of the events that took place has been uncovered. The ridge in the centre of the bay is a pa site. This probably explains why the Maoris retreated up on to it, when fired at by Burney's party. It also explains why the unfortunate boat's crew were so quickly cut off, outnumbered and overpowered.
The only known European relics of the incident are the rusted bayonet, the boat hook, butt plates, locks, barrels and other pieces of the two "Brown Bess" flintlock muskets, now in the care of the Marlborough Historical Society. These were uncovered by Mr W.J.H. Greensill of Wharehunga Bay, sometime between 1910 and 1930. What became of the cutter itself will probably forever remain a mystery.
The first publicans' licences were issued in Nelson in April 1842. There had been considerable public agitation to legalize a trade which had begun to flourish outside the law. Eight licences were issued and another six the following year. All were within the town, except for one at Motueka.
Some of these first public houses lasted only a year or two and left little evidence of their existence. The Ship Inn of J. Collins, The Shamrock Inn of T.K. Warburton, the New Zealand Tavern of Thomas Bright and William White and William Miller's Tavern come into this category. The Auckland Hotel of Richard Mills, in Nile Street East, became a private boardinghouse in 1844.
Others with a short life-span were the Nelson Hotel of William Wright, at the junction of Bridge Street and Haven Road and Edward Ellerm's Lord Collingwood Inn, in Bridge Street. In 1843 the Lord Collingwood Inn was bought by T.K. Warburton and he added a ballroom, which was the scene of a select ball on New Year's Day 1844.
Warburton had also held the licence for the Commercial Hotel in Bridge Street. In 1843 the Commercial was taken by J. Cockburn. It was described as extensive premises and included a billiard room.
Also in Bridge Street was the Caledonian Inn of William Murray. Murray added a theatre at the rear, which was the scene of plays, public meetings and, in September 1843, a most successful fancydress ball.1 Murray retired in 1844 and the former hotel was sold.
The Wakatu Hotel, the best known of the early public houses, stood on the north-west corner of Trafalgar and Bridge Streets. It had been built in 1843, by the merchants Nathan and Joseph, to replace their store at Auckland Point. They sold-up in August 1843 and the building was leased to James Williams, who continued to use it as a store and auction rooms. In October 1844, Williams absconded in debt to Alexander Perry, another merchant, who then rented the building.2 Perry converted it for use as a public house, and it was licenced as the Wakatu Hotel early in 1845. The first landlord was John McDonald, a gardener of Brook Street.
The Wakatu Hotel, described as commodious premises, included a billiard room and was an important social centre in the early days of the settlement. It was the scene of many public and private meetings and testimonial dinners. When it closed, The Colonist noted that a visit to the Wakatu Hotel had been regarded by country residents as the one relief from their struggles, as they had always been sure of finding congenial company there.
The Bank of New South Wales bought the property in 1877 and advertised the buildings for removal. The buildings and their contents were auctioned on 13 July 1877. The contents, which included spittoons, found a ready market and the buildings were purchased for thirtynine pounds by Thomas Harley, who had been born on the premises.
Next door to the Wakatu Hotel in Bridge Street stood the Galatea Hotel, built in 1868. Thomas Askew was the first landlord. The licence was taken by Mrs Russell in 1873 and the name changed to the Exchange Hotel. The Exchange closed on 17 September 1951 and its licence went to the Metropolitan Hotel.
The Freemasons' Arms, on the north-east corner of Trafalgar and Bridge Streets, was licenced in 1842 by F.A. Lloyd. It became a centre for members of the Oddfellows Lodge, who held their meetings there. Thomas Sullivan, a central figure in the Lodge, held the licence from 1846 to 1854 and, in 1847, the name was changed to the Oddfellows' Arms. It was the venue for Lodge dinners and for their charity occasions for widows and orphans. In 1856, the Oddfellows built their own hall and transferred their activities to it.
William Akersten took the licence in 1858 and changed the name to the Marine Hotel, reflecting his interests at the Port, where he had a well-known chandlery. Akersten advertised that Lloyd's Register, Marryatt's signal books, charts of New Zealand and many works of reference in nautical matters, would always be found on the table of the Captain's Room.
Charles McGee took over in 1859 and the Marine Hotel was advertised to let in January 1864. George Potter, the new licencee, gave the hotel a new name – the Coach and Horses. The building was replaced in stages, beginning with the Trafalgar Street frontage in 1870. This was added to in Bridge Street in 1877 and there were later extensions along Trafalgar Street.
The hotel had its final change of identity in 1906, when it became the Central Hotel. It closed in December 1972 and the licence went to the new Rutherford Hotel. The building still stands.
The third corner of that intersection to see an hotel was the south-east, where the Gardeners' Arms stood. In May 1843, William Johnson's application for the licence of the Gardeners' Arms was refused, on the ground that disorderly and riotous proceedings had been frequent there, during the past year. In June the premises were offered for sale, with the explanation that Mr Johnson, having acquired a rapid fortune, was retiring to Waimea, in order to turn his attention to agriculture.
The 1845 census lists William Johnson once more at the Gardeners' Arms and, in 1846, a St Patrick's Day ball was advertised. No reports of disorderly proceedings followed.
Alexander McGee held the licence in 1849 and, during that year, the name changed to the Anchor Inn.
George Taylor took the Anchor Inn in 1852. In November 1854 he advised that the building was to be replaced and that he trusted, in a short period, to be able to provide superior and comfortable accommodation for both man and horse. The new building deserved a new name and, the following March, Mr & Mrs Taylor advertised that their new and extensive premises, the Trafalgar Hotel, would be open in a few weeks.
Mrs Taylor had secured the services of an experienced French cook, which would enable her to provide dinners in a superior style. An active and efficient tavern waiter had also been engaged and visitors could depend on receiving attention and civility. In conclusion they trusted that the Trafalgar would, like the illustrious battle which gave it name, not be forgotten by the 'men of Nelson'. This building stood until 1907, when the Trafalgar Hotel became an elaborate three storey structure. (See cover). The end came in 1965, when the building was demolished.
The intersection of Bridge and Collingwood Streets was also well-supplied with hotels. The earliest, in 1843, was Charles Harley's Carpenters' Arms, on the south-east corner. Quite a social centre, it was often the location for balls and dinners. The licence appears to have lapsed in 1851, when Harley moved to the Wakatu, although the building stood until 1866.
The present Wakatu Hotel was licenced by Fred Vause in 1900, in premises built in 1866 for H.V. Phillips' Beehive Stores. The new venture was an immediate success, and the building was extended along the Collingwood Street frontage early in 1902. This provided eight further bedrooms upstairs and a large room downstairs, suitable for supper parties.
The first licence on the south-west corner of Bridge and Collingwood Streets was that of the Royal Arms in 1851. It appears to have lasted only until 1857.
The Nelson Hotel of Charles McGee was built on the site in 1865, with 17 rooms, but was destroyed in a disastrous fire on 7 August the following year. The fire began in the Nelson Hotel and spread to all corners of the intersection, fanned by a strong wind.
Tenders were called for a new building in October 1866 and the Nelson Hotel rose again from the ashes. During the 1890s the licence lapsed and, at the turn of the century, the building was being used by the Anchor Boot Company.
The building was purchased by Mrs Digby Andrews, who renovated it as a boardinghouse. The Ranfurly Boardinghouse could accommodate sixty visitors and a balcony was added, as an open air resort for them. It was completed in time to provide a view of the Jubilee Day procession in February 1902.
Mrs Andrews also operated a fruit and confectionery shop on the ground-floor in Bridge Street.
In 1903 it was taken by Mrs P. Harrison and the name changed to the Metropolitan Private Hotel.
In 1916 it once again achieved a licence, combining with premises next door in Bridge Street, to become the Royal Hotel, which continues today.
The building with which it combined, had been known all along as the Royal Hotel. It was there by 1857, when Charles Gentry held the licence. Destroyed in the 1866 fire, it was also rebuilt, and Joseph Porthouse was licencee for several years.
The Mitre Hotel, on the north-west corner of the intersection, was built in 1859. Another victim of the 1866 fire, it was rebuilt the same year and was renamed the Criterion Hotel in the 1870s. It had become the Temperance Hotel by 1887, which must have gladdened the heart of the Temperance Hall over the road. It lasted until 1912.
Further along Bridge Street, the Thistle Inn stood between Harley Street and Provincial Lane. It was built in 1855, was still there in 1876, but had gone by 1887.
The Provincial Hotel was built in 1868 and named for the Provincial Government building across the road. James Graham was the landlord for several years. It was one of many hotels in Nelson built to a similar plan, with the entrance at a corner.
The Commercial Hotel stood on the south-west corner of Trafalgar and Hardy Streets. Licenced in 1851 by J. Winterburn, it was in a small brick building which dated from 1842. In 1883 this was replaced by a two storied wooden building. A brick extension was added to the Hardy Street frontage in 1907 and the wooden portion was replaced in 1936. Renamed the Hotel Nelson, it stood until 1986 when it was demolished.
Opposite it, on the north-east corner, stood the Masonic Hotel. Built of wood in 1850, it was destroyed by fire on 7 November 1867. It was replaced by a two storied brick building and its rather harsh appearance was softened by the later addition of stone facings. The Masonic Hotel was demolished 16 April 1955.
The Bank Hotel stood next door to the Masonic in Hardy Street and was destroyed in the 1867 fire. The building was owned by Edward Everett and had been built in 1859. Originally the location of the Nelson Club, it had become an hotel in 1865.
The Miners' Arms Hotel, built in 1855, was on the north west corner of Hardy and Collingwood Streets. Henry Jasper was an early landlord. The hotel was rebuilt in 1883 and, before this, its name had been changed to the Panama Hotel. The Panama closed in July 1976 and the building is now used as legal offices.
Note: The remaining city hotels will be covered in the second part of this article which will appear in the next edition.
The vegetation pattern of Marlborough is governed by climate, relief, soil, aspect and man. In general, land to the west of the Wairau Faultline and its attendant mountain block (Richmond Range), has a high rainfall, allowing the development of lush podocarp forest. This is characterised by matai, miro, kahikatea and rimu trees. Generations of Maori settlers and early European visitors, such as Cook and the whalers of the 1830s, utilised selected trees, but it was not until the demand for timber increased, in the 1860s, that milling and clear felling of the lowland forests, in the tributaries of Pelorus Sound, began.
Alexander Duncan set up the first sawmill in Marlborough, at the head of the Grove Arm of Queen Charlotte Sound, in 1861.
The first Wakamarina Gold Rush, in 1864, saw the demand for sawn timber escalate and, by 1865, William Ross Brownlee had built the first of his New Zealand mills, at Mahakipawa, in Pelorus Sound. He prospered, and expanded by purchasing the failed Havelock Milling Company mill in 1871. This mill had opened in 1866, on the site of the present marina complex.
Brownlee moved the Havelock mill to Nydia Bay in 1876. the Maori had named this Opouri Bay, or "The place of sadness". Within four years the Nydia Bay mill had produced 10 million feet of timber from 1000 acres of valley floor, at the head of the bay. It was moved to Kaiuma Bay and produced another 18 million feet of timber by 1887.
For the following 20 years, Brownlee and Co. continued to expand from their base mill and port at Blackball, on the Pelorus river, near Havelock. They received no serious competition, until John Craig, a Westland miller and Daniel Reese, a Christchurch timber merchant, gained the milling rights to 800 acres of the Upper Opouri Valley, in 1906. Reese described the Opouri forest as "magnificent, probably the best ever grown in New Zealand". Trees were tall and straight and of a larger diameter than those in Westland, with a greater percentage of heart timber.
Reese and Craig were faced with many problems in milling and selling this timber. The largest was the lack of a low-level rail or road route to a port, as their rivals, Brownlee and Co., controlled this.
John Craig opted for an ambitious route over the 450 metre saddle between the Opouri Valley and Nydia Bay, and began construction of a wharf at Nydia Bay. The map shows the various stages of this route. Approval for access over
Once the hauler was operational, the rails, rollers, other building materials and mill equipment were winched to the top. It was necessary to build a 700 metre tramline along the saddle, to reach a suitable spur running down to Mill Stream, in the Opouri Valley. A second steam hauler was set up and railway track run down the slope. From the base of the incline, a further tramline ran to the newly constructed mill, and a collection of houses and huts. Steel rail was used on the two inclines and corners, whilst timber rails were used elsewhere.
This mammoth construction job caused the two partners to run short of capital and eight business associates joined then, to form the Marlborough Timber Company, in 1907.
During this time, Brownlee and Co. had extended their tramline into the lower Opouri Valley and built a modern bandsaw mill and a village, called Carluke, after Brownlee's home town in Scotland. Upset at the competition from Craig, they moved to gain another 800 acres of bush, but Reese moved faster and beat Brownlee with his application to Wellington by 24 hours. The second mill was built immediately and both appear to have been called Craig's Mill (Upper and Lower). The tramways and inclines proved able to handle the combined output of about five million feet per annum, although they were working for ten to twelve hours per day.
About two thirds of this output was rimu, valued for building, door and window frames, and furniture, whilst kahikatea, used to build tallow casks for freezing works, made up most of the balance. Smaller quantities of matai and miro were also milled, but the red and black beech forest was not used. An efficient two-way trade with Australia was set up by Reese, which saw the 300 metre long Nydia Bay wharf hosting trans-Tasman ships. These took Opouri timber to Sydney and returned with Newcastle coal for Christchurch, or Australian hardwood timber for port expansions at Lyttelton and Wellington. Coal, for the two incline haulers and the mill boilers, was off-loaded at the Nydia wharf.
The Opouri mills saw a settlement grow to house the bushmen, millers and their families. As well as houses and huts, there was a dance hall, library, bakery, butchery, smithy, grocer's store, two-table billiard room and a boarding house, run by Bob Spitall. Spitall also ran the bakery and store, and was the village photographer.
A second settlement, for yardmen, truckers and wharfies, grew near the Nydia Bay wharf and was based on William Gould's farm. He ran a store to sell supplies, used his woolshed as a hall and built a grass tennis court.
Both settlements held "Bush Cabarets" and, when combined, saw the men and their partners riding the incline railway. As women were outnumbered by the men, grandmothers, mothers and daughters were in demand as partners. Although the owners of the rival sawmills did not see eye to eye, this did not prevent visits by Carluke and Craig's Mill staff to each others dances, when their respective tramways were used to transport the revellers.
As mill manager, John Craig ran a strict operation and he was greatly respected as an employer. His men were worked hard but paid well. Slackers did not stay long, but some men served the company for many years. Due to his hard work and strength of purpose, John Craig was known as "The Bull".
As a result of the Marlborough Timber Company gaining the cutting rights to 1600 acres of the Upper Opouri Valley, Brownlee's Carluke mill ended its life in 1915, after only nine years. Despite building 70 kilometres of tramline, the modern Carluke mill and the extensive port and mill at Blackball, they had missed out on what they saw as a bonus, requiring little expense to collect. Instead they packed their equipment, including rails, steam haulers, locomotives and sawmills, and moved to fresh forests in the "Valley of the Giants", at Bell Hill, near Greymouth. The company had, however, had fifty profitable years in the Pelorus area.
It is not clear what happened to the Marlborough Timber Company's Opouri operation, at this time, as sources give dates for the closing of Craig's Mills ranging from 1915 to 1925. It is known that their closing saw the evacuation of valuable equipment over the inclines, to be shipped to Greymouth. As the completion for milling rights continued between Brownlees and the Marlborough Timber Company in the Bell Hill area, it is possible Craig's Mills closed nearer to 1915. Production records suggest 1919. One of Craig's mills was sold and removed to Orepuka, near Riverton in Southland, during World War II.
The demise of the large mills allowed many small mills to open, using unmilled pockets of forest. Further selective logging occurred in Nydia Bay and, in the early 1980's, preparations for planting exotic forest, on the land milled in the 1870's by Brownlees began, but ceased with a change in Government policies. Milling the Pelorus forest continues today, with the 1987 export of logs from the Upper Pelorus Valley to Asian consumers.
Although all useable materials were removed from the Marlborough Timber Company's operation 60–70 years ago, energetic historians, with a day to spare, can follow the transport system from the wharf site to the mill sites. Close to the wharf site, the Department of Conservation has set up a photo interpretation display. At low tide, lines of volcanic basalt ballast from the Auckland scows, which carried timber from the 1870's Brownlee mill, are exposed. So also are the stumps of the wharf piles, corroded iron ware and broken glass of early beer bottles.
The line of the tramway, from the wharf to the base of the incline is now indistinct and shows best in artificial cuttings, decaying bridge timbers, and lines of rough wooden sleepers, in a beautiful section of punga forest. A fragile remnant of timber work, used to bridge a swamp, is protected by fencing.
On both inclines, nature has masked the scars of the millers. A thick layer of leaf litter, rapid regeneration of pungas, supplejacks and epiphytes and severe pig rooting on the lower slopes, have blurred the outlines and covered equipment. Obvious relics include worn out rails, steel rollers and bearing holders, scattered bricks, coal and sleepers. The more observant will spot the insulator cups of the winch signal telegraph, high up on the trunks of some trees.
Small terraces, with scattered bricks, coal and iron, mark the sites maintenance huts. The rollers needed greasing, otherwise the wire cable would wear or break. A railway waggon axle, protruding from a living tree, is evidence of such a breakage.
The steam hauler sites have substantial quantities of machinery, roofing iron, wire cable and rubbish, but the mill sites have been under pasture for many years and are difficult to locate.
Sections of this transport system are now visited by several hundred school pupils each year, in an effort to educate people about our past and the need to treat our historic sites with respect.
If all visitors continue to leave the relics on the site, perhaps the engineering efforts of John Craig will, one day, be compared to those who constructed the famous Denniston incline near Westport.
Considerable public interest has been taken, recently, in the section of Nelson's waterfront opposite the former Anchor Foundry in Wakefield Quay, and many Nelsonians have taken advantate of the opportunity of admiring the view of the harbour across to the Boulder Bank. At the southern end of this section of foreshore, close to the basement of the former powerhouse building, lies the rusting remains of a ship's boiler.
Many years ago the late Mr E. B. Jackson, who was an ardent historian of Nelson's maritime history, did some research on the origin of this boiler and it is mainly from his notes that the following article is compiled. He ascertained that the rusting relic was the original boiler of the steamer Lyttelton, which had achieved something of a record in taking no fewer than 462 days to sail on her delivery voyage from England to New Zealand.
In 1859, at Scott Russell's shipbuilding yard, at Millwall, England, alongside the Eastern Steam Navigation Company's mammoth liner Great Eastern, a small, ketch-rigged paddle steamer of 48 tons was being constructed. This was the Lyttelton. The vessel was 75 feet in length and was fitted with engines of 23 horsepower. It was intended that the Lyttelton should be taken to pieces, packed up and forwarded to New Zealand by a larger vessel. However, in order to save cost, it was finally decided that the Lyttelton should proceed to New Zealand under sail.
Accordingly her funnel and paddle wheels were stowed away in the forehold, with about 30 tons of patent fuel, to act as ballast. The crew consisted of a captain, a mate, four sailors, two boys and a cook, together with a young engineer from Scott Russell's yard named Alexander Brown, who later became the Anchor Company's superintending engineer. Brown had been invited to accompany the vessel on the voyage and to fit her out as a paddle steamer on arrival at a salary of twenty pounds per month. He was then to remain with the vessel for another year as engineer at forty pounds per month.
The captain had with him his wife and five daughters, who were accommodated in the afterhold. The engineer and mate had a cabin further aft, while the crew were housed forward in the foc's'le. The engines and boiler remained in their original position, this space also being used for the galley. The ship was provisioned for six months.
August 18, 1859 marked the commencement of the voyage. The Lyttelton cast off from her tug at the Nore and proceeded under sail to Cork Harbour, in the south of Ireland, which was to be the point of departure for New Zealand. Owing to adverse weather conditions, calls were made at Ramsgate and Folkestone, before Cork was reached, 37 days after departure. Weather conditions were now improving, so the captain got under way and succeeded in making a very calm crossing of the Bay of Biscay.
After six weeks' sailing, Teneriffe was sighted. A little later, the opportunity was taken to put in at the Cape Verde Islands, where a stock of food, fruit, water and live poultry was taken aboard. The wind held fair and a good run was made to the Equator but, unfortunately, the ship's good luck again deserted her. For several weeks, the flat calms and torrid conditions of the doldrums were experienced to the full.
Eventually the wind blew free again and a course was set for Cape Coast Castle, a point on the Gold Coast (now Ghana) which was duly reached. The captain was forced to sell part of his patent fuel ballast in obtaining supplies to enable him to carry on. These supplies proved sufficient to reach Fernando Po, where the ship was beached and cleaned and the paddle wheels fitted in their proper positions. Twentyfive tons of coal were also procured to feed the boiler. The expenses were met by means of a "bottomry bond", a type of maritime mortgage, whereby the captain borrowed money to complete the
A fortnight's delay was incurred when most of the crew contracted a tropical fever but, eventually, the Lyttelton was again under way and steaming at four knots. St Paolo de Laonda was reached after fifteen days. Here another bond was effected by which stores were replenished, more coal secured and the voyage proceeded with as far as Walfisch Bay.
After a short stay, the ship was again under way, under sail and steam. 250 miles from the Cape of Good Hope, the coal gave out again and the wind proved unfavourable. Everything burnable aboard had to be used to feed the furnace but, fortunately, a barque was sighted lying inshore, in the process of loading from lighters. The Lyttelton managed to struggle to a good anchorage near the lighters, where she rode out a three day gale. The captain then had the good fortune to secure eight tons of coal from the lighters attending the barque, which enabled the ship to reach Saldanka Bay.
A schooner lying at anchor proved to have a small supply of coal aboard, intended for the shore, so an arrangement was made that, in return for towing the schooner to a good offing, the Lyttelton would receive the much needed coal. A supply of wood was obtained from the shore and, after having performed her part of the bargain in regard to the towing, the Lyttelton was at last enabled to reach Capetown, where she cast anchor on April 27, 1860, eight months after leaving Britain.
A serious situation now arose, for the Lyttelton's agent at Capetown refused to hold himself responsible for the furthering of the voyage, without reference to London. After a delay of some months, instructions finally came from London, to the effect that the "bottomry bonds" were to be cleared up. The ship was to proceed to her destination under sail, presumably to avoid the chance of further fuelling debts. The crew, by this time, had had enough of the voyage and would not go with the vessel. A new crew was signed on, with the exception of the captain, the mate and Alexander Brown, the engineer, who had stood by the ship. At the end of July 1860, the Lyttelton was cleared for New Zealand.
During the run for Australia "and exactly a year after the commencement of the voyage, a very heavy sea was shipped that nearly brought tragedy. Rolling and pitching to a big sea, raised by a series of heavy westerly gales, the Lyttelton gradually approached Cape Leeuwin, on the south west coast of Australia. Passing through Bass Strait she headed for Cape Farewell and, with a fair wind, she proceeded through Cook Strait as far as Cape Campbell, evidently making for a southern port. The wind proved unfavourable, so the captain put down his helm and headed for Wellington, reaching there on November 23, 1860,462 days after casting off from the Nore.
All trouble for the little craft should now, reasonably, have ended, but it was not so. Instead of receiving the welcome that might have naturally been expected, it seemed that nobody wanted the Lyttelton. In fact she had been given up for lost. The crowning misfortune was the discovery that the company for which she had been built, W. Bowler Son and Company for the Canterbury Steam Navigation Company, had gone into liquidation in June 1860.
William Bowler Jnr, of Lyttelton, negotiated with the liquidators for an interest in the vessel. She traded between Lyttelton, Sumner and Heathcote for some months and then from Dunedin to Taieri, during the early days of the Otago gold rush. In October 1862 Nathaniel Edwards and Company of Nelson, predecessors to the Anchor Shipping Company, negotiated with Bowler for the Lyttelton's purchase. On November 7, 1862 she arrived in Nelson, where a new registration was gazetted. Alexander Brown, the engineer, had remained with the ship and, with the appointment of Captain T. W. Whitwell as the new master, they became the "foundation officers" of the company.
The Lyttelton had the distinction of being the first steamship to negotiate the Opawa River. On November 14, 1862 she left Nelson carrying a full cargo and several passengers and berthed at the Blenheim town wharf. She was accorded a rousing reception and, later in the day, the captain and officers were entertained at a dinner, presided over by the Superintendent of the Province.
Her owners carried out considerable alterations to the Lyttelton, lenthening her and providing accommodation for both saloon and steerage passengers. She was converted from a paddle steamer to a screw steamer and her original boiler was replaced. It is the rusting remains of that original boiler which attracts our interest now.
The Lyttelton was later sold by Nathaniel Edwards and Company, but she continued to trade around New Zealand coastal ports. On a voyage between Collingwood and Wellington, on the night of September 30, 1886, she struck a reef by the Beef Barrels, at the southern extremity of D'Urville Island and foundered in deep water, fortunately without loss of life.
Lina, or Carrie, as she was called by her husband, was born in Altoner, near Hamburg in Germany, December 3, 1836. She was the third of six girls, the two older having died in infancy and the sixth being born after the family arrived in Nelson. Lina wrote her memoirs when she was sixty-three, over fifty years after leaving this first home, but her memories are of a large house with a pretty garden. There were a number of journeymen and apprentices in her father's business, which was that of master cabinet maker. It was apparently a comfortable life, with a servant to help her mother, and a French governess for herself.
All this changed, in the space of six weeks, when Lina was six. Her father studied books about New Zealand and determined to emigrate with his family. His wife was not enthusiastic, but believed it her duty to accompany him. His father tried to persuade him to go alone, until he was sure New Zealand was suitable for the family. Having failed to make him change his mind, the grandfather apparently broke off contact.
The Karsten family left Hamburg at Christmas 1842, on the St Pauli and arrived in Nelson June 14, 1843. Their first view of Nelson was that of a complete wilderness. Lina says:
"When we were out in the Bay everyone wanted to know where Nelson was. There was nothing to be seen but bush, hills and scrub, a few tents and some Mauris. No buildings, no place to land, no churches, no roads. There were a few buildings of wood on the Church Hill, and a depot was being built at the back of where the Institute now stands. Most of the people had only tents or whares, with blankets, fern and toitoi, but timber was being prepared for wooden houses. In a few days we landed, and we stayed in a room in the depot."
After a few days in the town, they left with eight other families for the Moutere, where Mr Karsten planned to take up farming. They travelled by whale boat to the Moutere and spent their first night under the trees. Lina describes life in the Moutere as follows:
"We slept on dry fern and a tent made of blankets and the next day went on to where we were going to make our home in the wilderness. Eight families and the three missionarys. They were going to the Mauries but they were going to learn the language first. The first thing was to build some sort of place to live and father and his men built a large place. It had no walls but was like a Mauri whare, a door each end, one end was the bedroom and the other end of the kitchen. It was thatched with rushes and stood on a little rise. The House of the Lord was got ready and the seeds put in the ground for it was spring by this time. The children were taught by the missionarys and church was held in our whare on Sunday as it was the largest. There were several floods in spring. They did not do much damage, but in February 1844 a big flood came and washed everything away except our whare. Being built on a rise saved it, and father kept the trees that came down from knocking it over with a long pole. Our next neighbour had taken the tops off four large pine trees and built a sort of house on them, and when it rained he took his family, wife and two children and a goat up and pulled the ladder up and was safe. His name was Mauson. He was a gardener. When the flood was over my father was tired of farming and he had had enough of New Zealand. As for my poor mother, being so sickly she felt the hardships very much.
"We had been there seven months and all the labour and expense was gone, washed away by the flood, so father walked to Nelson and left mother and us children with very little food. There were a few fowls left and mother killed one and cooked it for us. It took father nearly a week to go to Nelson and back for there were no roads, only tracks.
It was on a Sunday night mother expected him back, and she took us a little way through the bush to meet him. It got dark and he did not come so we had to turn back. We had not had much to eat that day and he was going to bring some bread and other things that he could carry. We were very disappointed and cried a good deal. We had not been in bed long before he came and we got up and had bread and butter. It was lovely, I remember it now how nice it was. We did not expect the butter for it was five shillings a pound in those days. Father had bought a house for fourteen shillings, and we were going to Nelson to live. One morning before daylight we were taken out of bed and dressed to walk some miles to the beach where a boat was going to be ready to take us back to Nelson."
The town seemed more attractive this time. Lina continues:
"Nelson had improved, there were a good many wooden houses built and there was a shop Mr Campbell had opened. Mr Bird had a butchers shop where the old jam factory now stands and things were beginning to look better for the eight months we had been away. We were glad to get back. So when we landed our things were taken on a Bullock cart to the shanty father had bought. It was one room, walls mud, roof thatched, floor bricks, one small window and a chimney, quite a Palace after the Hut at the Moutere. The only trouble was the floor was full of fleas. We could not sleep for them so mother boiled kettles of water and poured on the bricks and so made the place clean.
"We lived in that place for a good many years. There were four houses built all in a row and father bought them all as the people who owned them left. One family went to Motueka and some of their children are there now. A number of the settlers left and went to Adelaide. Father wanted to go but mother would not go. She said she had come to the end of the world and she thought that was enough…. Soon after this father got work at ship building. Mr Strong, a Quaker had some small boats built to trade to Tasmania and gave a good many men work. He did not pay them money, but opened a store and they had to take their earnings out, all but a few shillings a week.
"That was about the happiest time of my life. I went to school, for in April (18)44 the Nelson School Society opened the old Brick School, both for religious and secular education. All the children in Nelson in those days went to that school and learned to read and write…. One Sunday school was just over when a man came into town and brought word that a number of Mauries were coming to kill us all. The Church Hill had been made secure so all the mothers and children wre ordered to go up there, and the men who had been drilled were to go and meet the natives…. The report proved not to be true. The Mauris were going fishing so the men came back about three in the morning and we all went home to bed. I remember that some of our mothers shed a great many tears that night."
The family suffered much from illness. The mother was never strong and she died, after a few days' illness, when Lina was nine. She had three younger sisters. Wilhelmina died of the quinsy while still small, and another sister died some time later, leaving just Lina and Dorah, whose full name was Johanna Dorothea Friederike.
Life became very difficult for Lina after her mother's death. She described herself as mischievous. A tomboy, who frequently argued with her father. She would not stay at school when sent there.
Her own health was not good and she writes:
"Soon after this I had a very severe illness. I was about 13 years old when one day I was very warm and the river was just behind the house so I had a bath, hot as I was. A day or two after I was full of pain and the Dr was sent for. He said I had got rhumatic fever very badly. I suffered dreadful pain. The neighbours were very kind to me, nursing me and sitting up with me for some time as my life was despaired of. When I began to get a
little better one Sunday some of the girls in my class in the Sunday School came. They got me up and put me in father's chair before a large fire and I fainted. They were very much scared and went for a neighbour Mrs Mathur. She put me back to bed and sent for the doctor and I suppose 1 had a relapse for I was ill for a long time after. When I did get up I had to have crutches to walk with for my left leg was useless. It was six months before I could get about again, and what 1 had suffered had quieted me down. For years after that illness, indeed all my life, I have suffered more or less through it. But it did me good and while I lay weak and helpless I thought of many things in my past life and was sorry for my wild ways. After a while I got the use of my leg but I was never as strong as I was before."
On her recovery, Mrs C. Elliott asked her to become her servant. She lived with Mrs Elliott for four months. She was a much needed friend to her and taught her to be a good housekeeper and to sew. Another illness brought this to an end and Una returned home with a bad cough.
Her father took up work at Happy Valley. He had built a house in Waimea Road, where the girls lived. He came home at weekends and paid the bills. From time to time, there was a housekeeper and, at other times, they looked after themselves. When her father announced his intention to remarry, Lina said she could not live with a step-mother and she took a position with a Mr Jenkins. She lived in and did the sewing. Another bout of illness followed: "There were some very severe earthquakes in Nelson and prayer meetings were being held in all the churches for everybody was very frightened. The earth was very seldom still for more than a fortnight and some of the shakes were very severe. I attended the meetings the first week and took the measles from a young girl by whom I sat. When they were out on my arms a heavy earthquake came, and I got out of bed and ran and took cold and was soon very ill. My father was sent for and when I was better he took me home.
"While I was ill he had come back to town to live, the partnership having come to an unlucky end and all his money gone. I was scarcely well when father and one of my sisters, Dorah, and my stepmother's little girl and myself were taken very ill with dysentery. For eleven weeks I was at death's door. Father was over five weeks ill and the little girl died. My sister did not have it so bad but I got a relapse and was very ill. My father would not Iet any of the Christians who had become my friends see me. He told me all this trouble had come upon us because of me, although people were dying all around us of the same complaint and the Lord in mercy had permitted us to survive, all but the little children."
Mr Jenkins had taken her to church with him and she had made some new friends there. She experienced a conversion and became much happier. Her father was not so pleased, because it meant she was turning her back on the Lutheran Church, to become a Baptist. They had been part of the early Lutheran community in the Moutere and had travelled out on the St Pauli with the Lutheran missionaries, and briefly had been housed in a building which was to be used as the Lutheran church in Nelson.
With the help of a friend, who spoke on her behalf, Lina eventually received her father's consent to this change. She describe it as a very important event in her life, but she did not always remain a Baptist. In turn she joined Methodist, Open Brethren and Methodist again.
Lina had started to receive offers of marriage when she was fifteen, but she did not marry until she was twentyeight. She was married by a Wesleyan minister to Joseph Herbert Bisley, a baker, of Waimea Road on July 27, 1864. The couple adopted her husband's niece and brought her up. Joseph Bisley died, after nine years of marriage, from typhoid fever. Lina's father Mr J. C. M. Karsten had died at his home in Coll-ingwood Street in 1870.
Lina had money troubles at the time of her husband's death. She took a job, as housekeeper to Mr Charles Harley, a brewer. She worked for him for fifteen years. When Mr Harley died, he left her a cottage to live in and an income of $40 per year. She was very grateful to Mr Harley for this, as she was now in her fifties. The cottage was probably in Collingwood Street.
Lina wrote her memoirs in 1899 and added a further note in 1911, by which time she was seventyfour. She died on May 13, 1917. Her story illustrates many of the difficulties experienced by women who came to Nelson in the nineteenth century, from the other side of the world.
Some few years ago, I had the opportunity to visit a number of small museums in various parts of the country. There are the large, specialised ones, such as the Otamatea Kauri Museum at Matakohe in Northland, or those concerned with a particular industry, such as coal-mining or gold-mining and there are the larger museums, which are usually financed by local bodies or industry.
What interests me are the small museums, run by the local Historical or Museum Societies, where all the work is done voluntarily. Sometimes these start by being able to display someone's private collection. One of the usual problems is to provide suitable housing and enough room to adequately arrange the collections.
In some country areas old dairy factories have been utilised and these provide good, fireproof conditions. The only place in this part of the country where such a building is in use is at Rockville, where a wonderful collection of old tractors, engines, farm machinery and similar items are housed. Two Fairbanks Morse thirty horsepower diesel engines, out of one of the old Bay traders, are also housed there.
Mrs Wilson's Museum at Takaka should be retained in the district and probably will be. In Motueka, the old Parklands Schools is being used and work is in progress to get the museum set up. There they are fortunate that the private museum collection of the late Laurie Canton has given the district an established collection of exhibits.
We have the small museums in many country areas, such as Murchison and Wakefield. On the highway between Nelson and Blenheim, one can call at the local museums at Havelock and Renwick. There is a good local museum at Picton, well situated to attract visitors, and there are other local museums, apart from those named.
One thing that has to be remembered is that each museum should have its distinctive interest. If every collection just included the same exhibits as all the others, there would be little to attract visitors.
The Nelson Historical Society was set up to retrieve and preserve as much as possible of our historical material. The-committee promoted the idea of setting up a provincial museum, which would also provide a home for archival material and become a research library. It soon became evident that this could only achieved if the project received the financial support of the local bodies. Eventually this was agreed to and the Nelson provincial Museum was established. The committee members of the Historical Society, at that time, believed that the Society would be able to take an active part in the management and work of the new organisation, but their hopes were soon dashed.
The historical research library could only be set up when fireproof housing was available. When the new Museum was built at Isel Park, the Dr Bett collection was returned to Nelson from the Alexander Turnbull Library. An experienced librarian works full time and is of great assistance to people doing research. Nelson Provincial Museum has a vast collection of photographic material, which is one of the outstanding collections in this country, it will take years to catalogue all the negatives.
Marlborough people have achieved a great deal by utilising the great enthusiasm of voluntary workers, something which could not possibly have been achieved by a local body organisation. The Marlborough Historical Society was formed in 1955, with the purpose of seeing that historical material was preserved, and members saw the need for a building for that purpose. Some of the enthusiasts were Innes Simonsen, who became secretary, and the historians Allen Hale and Frank Smith. An exhibition was held, but the exhibits had to be returned to the owners, as there was nowhere to house them.
In 1959 Norman Brayshaw joined the Society and he used his terrific enthusiasm to get things moving. He literally drove up every road in Marlborough, photographing records and copying old photos. Then he started on old farm machinery, gaining the support of the Marlborough Vintage Farm Machinery Society and the help of the Young Farmers Club members. The first finance for the project was raised by these bodies staging a display at Woodbourne Farm, Fairhall. Norm towed wrecks from all parts of Marlborough behind his old car, to the site now known at Brayshaw Museum Park, land that was actually an old tip site. Brayshaw Park is certainly a fitting memorial to the man who had such a love of the past and vision for the future. A memorial plaque is being erected.
Norm Brayshaw set up the present Archives in Howick Road and plans are now under way to build a Museum and Archives building at the park. The Archives section will be the first to be completed, as the Howick road premises are running out of space. The total cost is estimated at $400,000, but the Society already has more than $100,000 available. The late Ralph Denton, who was a tireless worker at the park, willed money to go towards this and similar purposes.
Four different bodies are involved with the developments at Brayshaw Park:
As visitors enter the park, they pass through Beavertown, with the various old buildings, on past the Modellers' section and up the bank to the acres of farm machinery.
The Park is controlled by the Park Administrators, a body made up of three members from each organisation. They encourage people to do their own thing, provided that it fits in with an overall plan. Recently a fire brigade station was being built, with brigade members doing the work. There is no limit to what can be achieved, when local enthusiasm is encouraged.
Investigations into the possibility of a linen flax industry in New Zealand started as early as 1936. Britain's need for the fibre increased, when Russia banned exports of linen flax after 1938, because of their own industrial policy. After the German invasion of Poland and the Netherlands, the supply of fibre became critical. Britain manufactured linen flax into aircraft fabric, canvas goods, thread for boot manufacture, parachutes and firehoses.
Linen flax is sometimes confused with the linseed crop. Linen flax, linum usitatissimum, is the same species as the crop linseed. The varieties grown for flax have been selected for fibre and the linseed varieties for oil production.
Anticipating the possibility of a N.Z. linen flax industry, seed was obtained for processing or for seed production. In 1938 a Linen Flax Research Committee was formed, by the Council of Scientific and Industrial Research. Donaghy's Rope and Twine Co. Ltd, with the government, erected a small processing mill at Andrews Twine Works, Waikuku, near Rangiora.
The first season, 1939–40, saw 200 acres being planted at Rangiora and 100 acres in the Marlborough area. Sown in September/October, the crop matured for fibre production
In the 1940–41 season, 13,000 acres were sown in the South Island. The Blenheim plant was built in Alabama Road, with six four-ton retting tanks and, in 1941–42, the Seddon plant was set up, with four four-ton retting tanks. Seventeen plants were built in the South Island, with housing for large number of staff.
Mr J.W. Hadfield investigated the industry in Great Britain, to consider the machinery necessary in New Zealand. Machines for the pulling of linen flax were constructed in New Zealand by Andrews and Beaven. Locomotive boilers were supplied by N.Z. Railways and
Mr D.R. Wilkie, Instructor in Agriculture, Blenheim, sought the full cooperation of the farming community. A planting of over 1,000 acres was planned for the 1940–41 season in Marlborough. Every farmer who had a few spare acres, was encouraged to grow the crop and it was quite profitable for them. It yielded approximately two to three tons to the acre and the contract price was, initially, six pounds per ton. The farmers were not called on for any outlay on the crop, although they had debits of twenty five shillings per acre for seed and one pound per acre for pulling. Their main obligations were to prepare the land and to sow the crop.
At harvest time, pulling machines were available and were operated by contract gangs, at a cost of one pound per acre. The farmers stooked the crop.
The fibre was carted to the factories at no cost to the farmer. The contract gangs that carted the fibre in the Seddon area, used a Massey 101 tractor. One man and two boys were paid twelve shillings and sixpence an hour at first and, later, the rate was raised to fifteen shillings.
The carting of linen flax was not without mishap. The loads of flax could be stacked very
The dried crop had to be de-seeded, to remove the bolls, and this was done by mechanical combs. The fibre was immersed in warm water, to hurry the breakdown of the pith and wood, so that the fibre could be separated. This process was called retting. The flax was then dried, before being put through a
As the industry was for war-time supply, the factories had a sentry, to stop unauthorised persons entering. The fast development of the New Zealand industry was prompted by the war-time needs of Britain for the linen flax fibre. From 1941 to 1948, 10,274 tons of fibre were exported from the seventeen South island factories.
Marlborough's linen flax industry declined, after the end of the war, almost as quickly as it had come into being.
The buildings of Blenheim's Alabama Road factory are now a Ministry of Works depot. The concrete structure of the Seddon factory can be seen from the main road, looking down to the terrace country on the right, when entering Seddon.
Mr F.J. McKenzie, Seddon and Mr J. McCloy of Blenheim.
Since March 1969, I have been aware of a very fine photograph of mounted Indian troops on parade, with colours flying at lance heads and their officers with drawn swords, moving in review order down Trafalgar Street in Nelson.
The then owner of this interesting military picture, knew nothing at all about it and requested my aid in finding the reason for the occasion, and the year in which it occurred. After much reading of copies of the Nelson Evening Mail and The Colonist, I finally found the answer, in the columns of The Colonist of January and February 1901.
The Boer War was in progress and, as was usual in those grand old days of Empire, Great Britain was looking to her Colonies for aid, something that she is a little prone to forget about today. Her military hotshots of those forgotten days, in anticipation of some help, had dispatched a troopship down to Australia and New Zealand, hoping to hot up the old patriotic spirit of her Colonial children. In short, a recruiting campaign, typical of those great Empire years.
The troopship, Britannia, was the first to arrive in N.Z. waters. She carried a variety of British Imperial Troops, but would only be calling at major ports. Nelson had not been included in its itinerary. This, of course, raised the ire of the natives of our fair City, who
"The Indian Troops:The latest communications received by His Excellency the Governor from the Viceroy of India, does not hold out much hope of extending the visit of the Indian Troops. Government will endeavour, however, to arrange for visits to New Plymouth and Nelson, as all the larger centres have had the opportunity of seeing the Imperial Troops and entertaining them. There is a difficulty with the Indians with regard to food. The vessel that brings them, I do not think, can enter Nelson. However, if we can get sufficient time, we will do our best to meet the wishes of the people of Nelson.
Signed, R.J. Seddon"
On February 20 a further telegram was received. The Colonist reported:
The following telegram was received by the Mayor, Mr J. A. Harley, from the Officer Commanding the district, Capt. Wolfe, late last evening:
"Received notice from the Commander of the Forces that the Indian Troops will arrive in Nelson on Tuesday morning, and will march through the town in the afternoon. The Local Volunteers will attend, also 60 horses will be required and I am asking the Mounted Rifles to assist in providing, as it will be impossible to get from the local livery stables more than about a dozen horses. Should these measures fail, then I feel sure an appeal from you will be nobly responded to.
Signed, G. C.B. Wolfe , Capt."
A further telegram was also received from Captain Woofe saying that Colonel Pope Penton and his Staff would be present. Penton was in charge of the Indian Troops.
The Mayor, Mr J. A. Harley, stated that the ship Dalhousie would stay over only one tide. She was carrying 100 troops in all, which included 34 Native Officers and 66 noncommissioned ranks. These represented all the Castes of India, and 61 different Regiments, including Guides, Gurkhas and Bengal Lancers, with many noted men among them.
The Order of March was to be from the Port, via Bridge Street, Trafalgar Street, round Church Hill to Nile Street, down Collingwood Street, Hardy Street, and Trafalgar Street, up Bridge Street, to the Botanical Reserve.
At the Botanical Reserve, they were to be supplied with refreshments, (no spiritous liquor) and speeches would be made.
The Wharf was to be roped off and no persons, other than Officials, would be allowed on it. This precaution was apparently because of a spot of bother when the 3rd or the 4th Contingent left for South Africa.
The Dalhousie duly arrived, on the morning of February 26, 1901 and was very ably berthed by Pilot Cox. He received the congratulations of the Skipper and the Commanding Officer for a jolly nice piece of work.
The wharf presented a busy and animated scene, as orderlies rushed around saddling horses and getting equipment organised. Soon the troops were mounted and trying out their steeds. Some of the nags were a bit frisky at first, but the Indian troopers were excellent horsemen and soon had them under control.
The Parade moved off, the right of the line being the many-coloured and multiuniformed mounted visitors. They were followed by the Gurkhas, foot soldiers and the Nelson Volunteers, with the Wakatu Mounted Rifles bringing up the rear. The Prime Minister, The Right Hon. Richard John Seddon, and Mrs Seddon, had arrived on the Tutanekai and, after reviewing the Parade through the Nelson streets, proceeded to the Botanical Reserve for the Official Welcome.
The Colonist newspaper carried almost three colums of print of the event. It included a small notation that, as there were insufficient horses available in Nelson, a party was sent over to Motueka, to borrow the horses of the Motueka Mounted Rifles which, of course, had to be returned there, after the Parade.
All in all, it was a truly great day for our City and environs. Flags and bunting lined the streets and a huge crowd turned out for the occasion. In the evening, a Grand Ball was laid on which was, apparently, most spactacular. The following morning, the troops were taken for a train ride out into the country, which must have been a delightful experience. In the afternoon the Dalhousie sailed on the tide.
This publication is the third in Mr Newport's Footprints series, dealing with the history of the hinterland of the Nelson province. Throughout the series the author has performed an outstanding service in documenting the early development of the back-country districts.
Mr Newport has divided the book into four sections, the first of which deals with his research into the pioneering history of the Upper Motueka Valley, Tadmor and Tapawera areas, together with his own reminiscences of boyhood days in the austere farming life of the 1920s. A notable feature of this section is the publication of letters, written by Emma Barnard between the years 1865–1873, to her cousin Kate. The Barnard family eked out an isolated existence, in spartan conditions, on an area of land in the Stanley Brook district, and Emma's letters give a vivid insight into the frugal life that the family led.
The second section deals with the recollections of John Edward (Jack) Tomlinson at Woodbank Station (Hanmer), Tarndale, Tophouse, Lake Station and Kikiwa. His
Jeff Newport returns in Part III, where he deals with the Howard Valley, Maggie and Maud goldfields, particularly during the depression of the early 1930s, when unemployed men were subsidised to dig for gold. Most of the men were totally inexperienced but, in spite of the harsh economic and climatic conditions, a spirit of camaraderie was developed.
The formation of cricket and rugby teams and the appointment of a school teacher, did much to give the Maggie Creek goldfield an identity of its own. The establishment of a branch of a general store, with Jeff Newport's cousin, the late S.W. (Stan) Newport, as resident storekeeper and postmaster at Maggie Creek, helped to alleviate the sense of isolation.
The final section recalls the story of Jessie and Ned Russ, who took up land in a land settlement ballot in 1913, in an area between the Buller and hope Rivers known as "The Grips". This chapter has been edited by Jeff Newport, from material gathered by the late Stan Newport.
One notable feature of the publication is the inclusion of no fewer than 109 photographs and 5 maps. Although many of the photographic illustrations must necessarily be small, to fit into a volume of 122 pages, they do much to provide a visual contribution to the value of the book.
As was the case with previous volumes in the series, readers will continue to appreciate the accuracy of the detail which Mr Newport applies to his research, in recording the history of the areas which he knows so well.
by Margaret C. Brown. Published by the Murchison District Historical and Museum Society, 1987.
Travellers through the Buller Gorge who pause at the picnic area at Lyell Creek, are delighted by the peace and tranquillity of a place that once bustled with activity. Margaret Brown, well-known for her Difficult Country, brings the Lyell to life in this well-researched book.
Gold was instrumental in Lyell's birth, growth and decline. The inaccessibility of the place gave it a character all of its own. The author explores many aspects of this special character in an informative and very readable manner. Quotations from published and unpublished sources vividly describe the experiences of many who visited or lived there. Photographs from historical collections and some of more recent vintage illustrate the changes that have taken place. Reproductions from newspapers and directories help recapture the flavour of the times.
An index makes the information contained readily accessible.
Those who pause at Lyell will see it with new eyes after reading this illuminating book.
High hopes: the history of the Nelson mineral belt by Mike Johnston. To be published by Nikau Press.
Better Prospects: The Parkes Family History by Elizabeth K. Parkes.
148 pp. Indexed. References and Sources. $16.50 post-paid.
Commencing with the Notts/Hants/Sussex ancestries of the Parkes and Sutton families,
In places amusing (sticky bread, poorly attended wedding) and in places tragic (leg severed, manic depression, school burning down), there is much of interest. Available from the author, 211 Vanguard St, Nelson.
Someone has pointed out to me that, whereas the article I wrote for the Journal on Newstead (Volume 1 No. 5) referred to the house in Manuka Street as the former home of W.F. Maiben, the Nelson College Old Boys' Register spells that name as W.F. Mabin.
There are five editions of the Register, dated 1900, 1909, 1925, 1955 and 1981. The first and second editions were written by Mr Harold Moore, who reprinted a facsimile of the original advertisement from the Examiner of 22 March 1856.
This describes the house, rather quaintly, as 'the late residence of Mr Maiben'. This facsimile is repeated in all the editions of the Register.
I have a letter from the late Mr W.F. Airey, in which he said that he had a snuff box, engraved with the name of W.F. Maiben. In case that was not proof enough, I found in the Library the Examiner of 1856 and there was 'the late residence of Mr Maiben'.
Apparently Harold Moore, knowing the family of Mabins, assumed that the Examiner had spelled the name wrongly. I am assured by a descendant of the well-known family of Mabin, that their forefather built the house at 98 Nile Street, now owned by the Bridge Club. Near the front door the name Mabin House is retained.
The Maiben of Manuka Street is not related to the Mabin of Nile Street.