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Beefing About Bullocks

Jack Andrews

Following my 1989 article on river transport in Marlborough, I think we should now look at the next important step in moving goods, people, and material, when opening up a new country.

History has treated the bullock, they were never called oxen in New Zealand, shabbily. The importance of the bullock has been eclipsed by the glamour of the faster, temperamental horse.

This is just not fair, because really the bullock has been worth so much more than they have been given credit for.

In old England, the transition from bullocks to horses as working animals helped to establish town sites. The greater speed of the horse enabled the men to go back to a common camping ground at night, instead of remaining at their workplace. However, in New Zealand, many of our towns were placed at the distance of a bullock's journey for the day, so the bullock was responsible for the siting of New Zealand towns. They are about twelve miles apart on the average.

One of the first records of bullocks being used in New Zealand was 1820, in the North Island, when the Rev. Butler showed the Maoris how to use a plough. Of course we know Samuel Mardsden brought a bull and two cows to the Bay of Islands in 1814. By 1838 we read of quite a number of bullock teams working in the North.

Cattle were landed on Mana in 1833 and, in 1840, Unwin & Co's cattle prowled at large in the Wairau. Not long after, we read of Nelson settlers with their bullocks. Buick, in Old Marlborough, writes of bullock drivers grogging up at Wynen's, on the Wairau Bar, in 1849. There are, however, several references to Bill Attwood's team as being the first in Blenheim and the first to penetrate the Awatere, in 1857. Maybe this refers to a waggon, where previously there had just been bullock drays. We shall look at this again later.

The popular conception which comes to mind of a bullock driver is a hard, uncouth, and possibly cruel taskmaster, with a brilliant vocabulary of blistering swear words. I have found this in Australian writings, but few examples in New Zealand records. In fact it's generally the opposite.

Bullocks were not guided with reins and a bit like horses, but were given names at an early age, which they learned to recognise, then they were taught to respond to commands. Of course, most directions were directed at the leaders. William Attwood's team were named Brindle, Spot, Yellowman, Merryman, Major and Nelson. Another team was Barney, Captain, Strawberry, Ruddy, Sailor, and Ginger.

There is the story of one bullocky who became a little offside with some of the town gentlemen. He must have planned ahead, because he had their names amongst his team and, when in proximity of their place of business, he enjoyed the delightful opportunity of abusing them with impunity. I did find one other case of a New Zealand bullocky using a blue barrage of words to work his team. This was reported by Atkinson, manager of Molesworth.

Atkinson found the waggon bogged and the bullocky bounding about, giving a bountiful volume of volatile invective.

When the performance ceased for a moment, while the man got his breath back, Atkinson advised him to pull himself together and put his faith in providence. The response was "Providence be damned Boss, he's been sulky all day, and anyhow he's the worst bloody bullock in the team". Maybe these two men came from Australia.

Many old drivers used their whips for noise only, not actually hitting the animals. They would coax more than threaten, but some bullockies could put on quite a pantomime, exciting the beasts to greater efforts, like cheer leaders. Most drivers contended that bullocks were not dumb, but could think for themselves, which helped in many sticky situations and, of course, they could outpull a horse team.

Young bullocks were broken-in in pairs. One method of breaking-in a new team was to yoke page 10one to a fence, then yoke his mate alongside him. There would be a bit of lashing out, but they soon became used to each other.

For working, the animal was attached to a pole from the vehicle by a yoke and chain. The iron under the neck, holding the yoke in place, was called a bow. The pull was from the neck, not the shoulders as with a horse. The yoke was fashioned so as to prevent choking.

Bullocks began their working life at about three years of age. After working about eleven years, at around the age of fourteen, they were fattened and eaten, and their hide used for leather.

For the early pioneer they had many advantages. First, they were more affordable and easier to obtain. The prices varied but, when a horse was bringing £50, a bullock could be bought for £15. Even Wakapuaka's poundkeeper, in 1856, charged twice as much for a horse than a bullock. And of course, at the end of its working life or, if it broke a leg, the owner had the meat and hide.

A bullock could work well on grazing, although there are instances of their diet being supplemented. Chaff and oats had to be carried for a working horse.

Although slow, dependability was more important than speed at that period, and bullocks handled terrain that horses would balk at. New Zealand was bush, swamp and hills. Much of the bushland when cleared was wet. Corduroy roads of birch, manuka, or sometimes just of bundles of flax or rushes, were encountered on many journeys. For instance, as late as 1860, there are stories of bullock drays being bogged down in Riccarton Road, Christchurch. The wider, cloven hoof of the bullock coped with this better than a horse's could and the better pulling power of the bullock on the hills was appreciated.

On soft ground, they did not bother to shoe bullocks but on shale and other hard ground, they were shod. This is not generally known today.

The main drawback was the danger of a grazing team eating tutu, sometimes a full team was lost Bullocks driven in rain were apt to get scalded. There were cases of injuries and even death from a kick, though horse kicks were more common. Another hazard, in the early period in Marlborough, was wild bulls attacking the more docile animals. Even some station owners' bulls, running loose, could at times cause problems.

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I was told last year of bullocks towing boats up the Opawa River. They also towed sledges at this period, using two to four bullocks to a sledge. Much of the early farmland was broken in by bullocks, two to a swing plough. There are records of drays with two, sometimes six, and even eight bullocks, while waggons had from eight up to sixteen. An 1857 transporter at Brayshaw Park, built to carry thirty foot logs, had a team of eight.

As the horse waggon began to replace the bullock team, arguments arose as to which was the better. In South Canterbury, a case of whisky was the prize in a race taking wool from Mesopotamia to Rakaia. The swamps from Swingburn and Spreadeagle favoured the bullocks, who were well ahead until a hard shingly track was reached. It was close, but the bullocks just managed to win.

Bullocks were used as pack animals in Marlborough, particularly in the upper Awatere. I am told that specially made pack saddles still exist, although John McKenzie, who died in 1939 aged 91, recalled using horse pack-saddles, put on back to front, as they fitted the bullock better that way. He also noted that, when coming to a high river, you caught the bullock by the tail and he did the rest

Bullocks had to be allowed time to graze, so often a driver did not start his team until about 10 am. Bullockies soon found the best places to stop at night, where their animals could safely roam and graze.

In good going abullocky could at times push his team to 15 or even 20 miles per day. One must remember, however, that the roads of today had not been constructed. The distance between towns is much shorter now and hazards have been eliminated. For instance, the timber waggons would assemble at the Half Way House, on the Picton Road, and go in convoy to Gouland's Ferry (Ferry Bridge). The road was a mess, went up all the gullies, and drivers had to double-yoke teams to get through the soft spots. This days trip is now just over 6 miles. This bit of track was exceptional. Wheetman, near Hapuka, carted wood to Kaikoura, 7 miles away, and back in a day in his bullock dray.

Wynen, according the Census, had quite a herd of cattle, and Buick describes bullockies whooping it up at his establishment in 1849. Mrs Muncaster records landing at Grovetown in 1859 and travelling to Blenheim by bullock dray. Nelson settlers brought their bullocks over in 1857, but I have so far found nothing to disprove Attwood's claim. Up until 1866–67, Awatere sheep were shorn just above Blairich, and the wool hauled around the White Bluff at £2-8-0 per bale. Cutters transported it to oversea ships at Port Underwood for £1 per bale. Attwood also carted timber for the Grove Road Opawa bridge. This structure cost £9.

George Rutland, who previously ploughed for Redwood in the Waimea with bullocks, tells how versatile a bullock dray could be. In 1860, when moving the family household goods from the Pelorus River to the Patoa farm, the dray capsized. Being unable to right it, they put all the goods on the bottom of the dray and continued on upside down.

Brownlees used bullocks in most areas to haul out timber. When at Makakipawa, it was said that the stock lived on karaka leaves.

In the 1880's, bullock drays scrambled through the dreaded Hell's Gate, in the Wairau Gorge, though not without loss.

During the Marlborough Centennial, a group of Spring Creek men trained a team to pull a covered waggon. It proved one of the highlights of the parade. Bullocks were not a special breed, just trained beef stock who, after 11 years of faithful service, ended in the soup.

Redundant, ruminating, humble heroes, we salute you!

Am just off to have a steak.