More on William Tullibardine Murray

Image: Mt Taranaki, formerly Mt. Egmont, from Wikipedia.

Edit: 18 March 2019, further info on his education career, and adding in links to his Highlander Condensed Milk and other enterprises.

In January 1839, a ship named the Orleana arrived in South Australia. On board was Henry Dundas Murray, grandson of Sir Patrick Murray of Ochtertyre, Perthshire, Scotland. In the town of Gawler, near the Barossa Valley, the central square is named Orleana after the ship Henry Murray arrived on, as he and John Reid were the ones who conducted the Gawler Special Survey of 4000 acres. By the 1860s, Henry Dundas Murray was a stipendiary magistrate in Gawler.

Henry Dundas Murray's ancestry stretched back at least to the 1200s and the reign of King Alexander II of Scotland, during which time Sir John de Moravia served as sheriff of Perth. He came from a long background of Scottish landed gentry.

Henry Dundas' second son, born 11 January 1863, was named William Tullibardine Murray (his middle name literally meaning “look out hill”, from the Gaelic tulach = hill and bardainn = warning, and stemmed from back in the history of Clan Murray). Exactly when he arrived in New Zealand is unknown, but on 21 January 1886 at Ponsonby he married May Elizabeth Margaret Bell, daughter of James Bell, of Port Albert on the Kaipara who died in 1870 aged 34 of an “inflammation of the bowels” (possibly appendicitis). His daughter was one of eight children. By 1887, the Murrays lived at Avondale, and William T Murray appears to be the likeliest to have been the “W. T. Murray” behind the short-lived Avondale Fruit and Vegetable Supply Depot venture (1891). The Murrays had two children while at Avondale, Yoland (b. 1887) and Henry Lamont (b. 1891).

From 1886 and into the early years of the 20th century, William T Murray maintained a license as a teacher, E3 rank, in both Auckland and later Otago. In 1895, however, both he and his wife declared bankruptcy. From 1896 until 1918, with less of an active role, Murray had involvement with the milk preserving industry in general, and the establishment of the Highlander Condensed Milk brand in particular.

According to Robin Carlyon, commenting to this article on Murray:
"William T Murray started in 1903 at Rakaunui School near Pongaroawas at Opaki in 1905 and then at Pongaroa until 1915. Then he has a short spell at Manakau School and didn’t work for the Wellington Education Board again ... Pongaroa was 40 miles East of Pahiatua and over difficult roads At Rakanui School he had no certificates, When he started at Pongaroa he passed D2 Examinations and Passed his D1 examination in 1914 ... The Wellington Education Board took anyone who may teach for their back block schools. Horowhenua Chronicle 5th March 1914 Identified our W T Murray as William Tullibardine Murray He had no NZ qualifications at Rakunui. By 1909 he had a ... D2 qualification and in 1914 had a D1 qualification." (Many thanks for the info, Robin!)

From 1915, Murray became involved in the Presbyterian Home Mission, ordained a Home Missionary in 1917, and when he died in 1923 had the title of Reverend.

In January 1923, he was living in Normanby (since c.1919). Nearly three weeks after his 60th birthday, he and three companions (Rev. Mr. Orange from Eltham, R. Thomas from Wanganui, and G. Cook from Kaponga) started out on 30 January to make the ascent up Mt. Egmont/Taranaki from Dawson Falls House to the summit, then to descend on the other side to North Egmont House. At some point, there was a disagreement over which route to take, and it was reported that “Mr. Murray did not agree as to the route chosen and refused, in spite of argument, to listen to the appeals of the others. He insisted on traversing a dangerous gorge down which the others had perforce to follow, though to return the same way appeared impossible.”

Cook returned to Dawson House for assistance, while Orange and Thomas followed Murray, trying to keep in touch with him by shouting. After a short time, Murray no longer returned the shouts, and his followers lost his trail and couldn’t follow his tracks. Search parties went out to look for him. At one point Orange collapsed, but resumed searching with the others the next day. On 1 February, searchers followed his tracks down the mountainside, then up again to within a thousand feet of the summit. The remains of a small fire were found, and piece of cord tied to the scrub. In all, six separate search parties, over 100 people, scoured the mountainside looking for him. Three old skeletons were even located in a cave during the search.

The searchers were able to piece together part of Murray’s last journey.

“The search has resulted in the reconstruction of Mr. Murray’s earlier wanderings on the mountain. When Mr. Murray persisted in descending a precipitous gorge on the western side of the summit against the advice of his friends, they had great difficulty in getting clear from this point. The missing man travelled in a west by northerly direction for a little over a mile, until he struck the Kahui track to Bell’s Falls, just about where it crossed the “moss line”. Footprints show that he followed this track down to the 2940ft level, where the track divided, the northern one to Stony River.

“At this point he made his first night’s camp. Searchers who tracked him down this far found the remains of a huge fire and also a bed of tussocks bearing the i9mpression of a man having rested there.

“Next day, January 31, Mr. Murray apparently retraced his steps almost three-quarters of a mile along the track, and then struck off again toward the summit, holding more or less closely to a direct line until he came under the Turtle, over 6000ft. above sea-level. He then bore in an easterly direction for a little way, and then north-west again on a course almost parallel with that he had travelled. This last turn was a fatal one. Had he proceeded 30 yards in an easterly direction he would have passed round a bluff. From this point he would have seen the North Egmont hostel.

“Proceeding in a north-easterly direction, Mr. Murray apparently found himself between two small streams, and, at a point where these joined, he made his second camp. It was here that the heel of a boot was discovered, on which were scratched his initials – W.M. – and the date, 31/1/23.

“From this point, the tracks were subsequently followed down the river to where it reaches Bell’s Falls. The tracks here entered the river and they have not been discovered coming out. Stony River, above and below the falls, has been thoroughly searched in case the unfortunate man may have been washed down the river, and the tracks retraced along the route of the third day’s journey in the vain hope that he might have come back and deviated from his previous paths. Below the falls is a deep pool, and this has been sounded [with gelignite] for traces of the body.”

The search was abandoned on 16 February, and I’ve seen no sign that the remains of Rev. William Tullibardine Murray have ever been found.

Sources:
Genealogies published online by Sara Leonard Murray.
Southern Cross, NZ Herald, Auckland Star, NZ Gazettes
NZ Presbyterian Archives website
Manning Index of South Australia History
State Heritage Areas of South Australia

The unpopular toll gate at Kapuni River

I found this in the Auckland Star, 16 January 1923.

Toll gates have never been popular and when about fifteen years ago the Egmont County Council, in the Taranaki district, erected one near the Kapuni bridge on the Eltham-Opunake Road, the settlers paid their tolls sullenly, and vowed vegeance on the gates.

Just where the Kapuni bridge crosses the river, which flows from Mount Egmont, there is a big dark ravine where the water is very deep, enclosed on all sides by steepm rocky banks. One stormy night the old till gate keeper was lying in his bunk with his light in the window; he knew that there would be little traffic on such a night, and soon fell off to sleep.

At that time a coach left Opunake for Eltham in the very early hours of the morning, and got to the toll gate before daylight, but till this morning the old keeper had always been ready to receive it. The driver of the coach descended from his box to go and investigate, and to his astonishment he found the door of the hut securely fastened from the outside, and the man could not get out.

On further investigation he also saw that the gates were missing. A party of men had evidently removed them from their hinges and thrown them into the deep pool in the ravine. The ropes which held the old man in his hut and fastened the doorway were soon cut, and the council offered a big reward to anyone who would reveal the cuprits, but no one ever did.

Two visitors met recently at the bowling tournament in Auckland, and were discussing old times.

"When did we meet last?" said one.

"Oh, you remember it, don't you?" replied the other, "and I suppose we can talk about it now, but at one time a price was put on our heads, for it was the night that we bound up the door of the toll keeper's house at the Kapuni River, and threw the gates into the water over the clidff."

"Were those gates ever recovered?" was again asked.

"No, for all I know they are still at the bottom of that gully, but other ones were soon put in their place, and the toll is still there."

Maori voting, early 1920s

I found this interesting article in the Auckland Star of 17 January 1923 today.

"The lodging of a petition against the return of one of the Maori members of Parliament has given some prominence to the subject of Maori elections, says the "Dominion". Many New Zealanders no doubt assume without question that the system followed in the polling for native members is the same as that followed in the polling for European representatives. The fact is, however, that it differs considerably.

"First of all, there is no Maori roll. There is provision in the law for the compilation of such a roll, but so far none has been compiled. The reason is, probably, that a roll would be useless unless enrolment was compulsory. The native does not take readily to systems of registration, as many registrars of births and deaths have cause to know. If a roll were used it is likely that comparatively few natives would register voluntarily, and most of the voting would have to be "by declaration," so that things would be little better than they are now.

"When the Maori elector enters a polling booth on election-day he is required to state his full name, his iwi (tribe), his hapu (sub-tribe), and his kainga (place of abode.) These particulars are inscribed on the counterfoil of a voting paper. Then the elector is required to state the name of the candidate for whom he desires to vote, and the returning officer writes it upon the voting paper. The returning officer and a Maori associate are the only persons permitted to be present when a Maori elector votes. The officer, after recording the vote, puts his name or his initials on the paper and hands it to the associate, who similarly signs or initials it. The part of the paper on which the vote is noted is detachyable from that on which the particulars concerning the elector appear.

"No scrutineer is permitted to be present in the booth during voting. Secrecy has to be preserved concerning the native's vote, just as it has to be preserved concerning the European's. Immediately after the poll has closed scrutineers are admitted so that they may witness the counting of the votes."

The Aramoho Zoo (1908-1916)

The story of J. J. Boyd's Aramoho Zoo is part of The Zoo War (2008), but I thought I'd publish the chapter online as well, seeing as this year is the centenary year for New Zealand's first private zoo. The Onehunga/Royal Oak chapter could follow sometime next year (2011 is the centenary for that zoo).

The Cocoa Lady

Mrs Margaret Richardson, Avondale Primary School's "Cocoa Lady". Photo courtesy of Mrs Richardson's daughters, Mrs Gagen and Mrs Fleming.

I love this photo. This is the photo of Margaret Richardson, who may have only been noted in Heart of the Whau as the wife of Paul Richardson, former Avondale Borough Councillor from the 1920s.

But Mrs Richardson is much more than that to a generation of former pupils of Avondale Primary -- the ones who went to school during last century's Great Depression.

From out of the Depression Years come stories of community goodwill. One case in point is that of Mrs Margaret Francis Richardson (c.1882-1965), wife of former Avondale Borough Councillor Paul Richardson (c.1882-1961).

It came to her notice that some of the children attending Avondale Primary School were going to school without any lunch to eat. So, Mrs Richardson went around the local businesses, asking for donations of cocoa, sugar and milk, and then asked the School for the use of an old shed on site as a “cocoa shed”.

From there, she set up to provide cocoa drinks for the children, those who could afford it paying 1d a week, while those who couldn’t received cocoa free.

“The Cocoa Lady” became a feature of many childhood memories of the period. According to her daughters, Mrs Lorna Gagen and Mrs Shirley Fleming, Mrs Richardson was known for helping those boys a little late returning to class by hiding them under a shelf in the shed when their teacher came looking for them, then when the coast was clear saying to the boy “All right, go for your life!”

Her daughters told me that a man from Onehunga had written recently praising their mother, saying he was sure she kept him alive during the Depression.

Margaret Richardson (born in Glasgow, Scotland) was also a JP in Avondale.

A fatal fall: the death of Patrick Moran

When Patrick Moran of Kumeu died after falling off a train close to the JJ Craig brickyards in St Georges Road on 10 August 1900, it was a brief sensation in the newspaper, and then quickly forgotten. But the original article a day after the accident was reprinted by the NZ Herald in their 100 Years Ago column back in 2000, then the Friends of Waikumete republished it again in one of their recent newsletters in 2007.

People standing on the platform outside and to the rear of train passenger carriages seemed to have been an often-seen occurrence in the late 19th century. With trains such as the one on which Moran took his final fatal trip travelling at 20-25 miles per hour on the journey between Avondale and New Lynn stations, it must have seemed a breezier alternative to some who didn’t want to be cooped up in the carriages for the relatively long journeys. Others had earlier taken a tumble, however. One man near Rotorua just 5 years before was extremely fortunate to have escaped with only severe shock as the effects of his accident. A similar accident, near the same spot where Moran died, had happened about a year before, and again had no serious consequences.

But Moran was perhaps just unlucky. Not feeling well, complaining of heart attacks and that “someone was chasing him”, he got up from his seat beside his wife in the second-class carriage, and went out to the platform to have a smoke of his pipe, just before the train reached Avondale. Three boys had beaten him to the idea; he then walked across to the rear of the first-class carriage, and stood on the platform there, trying to light his pipe. The wind however was too strong, blowing the matches out, so he gave up. With his hands in his pockets, he leaned back against the door of the carriage. Had the three boys not been on that second-class carriage platform, Moran might have survived his tumble. But as the train sped down the incline from Avondale station towards St Georges Road and on to New Lynn at 20 miles per hour it approached, close to where Saintly Lane is today, the spur loop line put in place back in 1882 by Robert Hunt so that his bricks and pottery could be loaded onto the trains with swift efficiency. JJ Craig utilised the same system. The train jolted and made a sharp turn, just at the point where the main line met that loop line – Moran lost his balance and fell sideways, toward his right side, and tumbled from the train. Below, he hit his head against either a bolt from the loop line or one of the ballast rocks – the result, tragically, was the same.

Those who witnessed his fall were unable to raise the guard or the engine driver and advise them until the train had stopped in New Lynn. By the time the train reversed back, Moran was lying dead where he fell. The official inquest at the Avondale Hotel some days later ruled that “deceased met his death by accidentally falling off a train, and that no blame was attachable to anyone.”

William Tullibardine Murray vs. the Chinese Growers

The early 1890s for Auckland was a time of (European) people's real concerns over a perceived takeover of Auckland's fruit and vegetable supply market by Chinese gardeners and shop owners, amid jibes against the "Celestials" which we would regard today as racist and illegal. The cartoon above from the Observer of 6 August 1892 summed up much of the feeling then, where a mis-shapen and heavily-accented "John Chinaman" has won the right to ship his cheaper produce via the shipping company (represented by a "John Bull" type character) over the pleas of the clean-cut European grower with his suffering family at the rear. To further inflame public opinion, the cartoon was headed, "The Chinaman On Top Again." Even so, Aucklanders had a fascination for the exotic products imported by Chinese and displayed in their businesses in the city, the culture and customs so unusual to Europeans, and the Chinese-owned restaurants.

On 14 November 1891, the Avondale Fruit and Vegetable Supply Depot opened in the southern wing of the old Auckland Market building in the city (today, this is Aotea Square). A Mr. W. T. Murray from Avondale was the instigator.

"The southern wing of the Market was crowded yesterday afternoon by visitors and purchasers attending the Avondale Fruit and Vegetable Supply Depot. The tug of war has commenced between Mr. Murray and the Chinese, who, finding him encroaching on their domain have lowered the price of vegetables one-half to their best customers, and restaurants and boardinghouses. He is confident that he will hold his own with them, and yesterday small growers were at the depot with cart-loads of vegetables from Mount Albert, Epsom, Otahuhu etc., which he purchased, relying on a large turn over to compensate for the small profit. Mr. Murray intends to adopt the same principle as regards fruit, and will, by large purchases, give the citizens cheap fruit throughout the summer, his motto being "small profits and quick returns." This evening a band will discourse choice selections of music in the southern wing of the market, purchasers at the Avondale Depot getting a concert thrown in with their purchases."

(NZ Herald, 14 November 1891)

"Auckland is just now the scene of a labour competition between Europeans and Chinese in the supply of vegetables, and as it is to be "the survival of the fittest," we back the Europeans. Tho Avondale Vegetable Supply Company have now established a depot in the City Market, and have numbered vans patrolling the city, so that the war is being carried into John Chinaman's country. The Saturday night promenade concerts at the Market are also a great treat."

(Observer, 14 November 1891)

It was portrayed by newspapers like the Observer as a full-on war between two racial stereotypes: "John Chinaman" and "Jock Scotchman". William Tullibardine Murray, bearing as his middle name the place where the clan chiefs of the Murrays of Tullibardine had their funeral services, certainly appears to have represented the Scottish side of the feud.

"The vegetable war is still raging in our midst, and John Chinaman is viewing with chagrin the profitable trade being driven by the Avondale Depot representatives. John believing that competition is the life of trade has cut down the price, saying, "Allee lightee, me makee fight."

(Observer, 21 November 1891)

One last burst from Murray came on 16 December 1891 when he and Mr. A. Aitken organised "the inaugural show of fruit and flowers" at the Greenleaf section of the City Market. This was not a success, however. "The show," the NZ Herald reported, "was hardly so successful as the promoters anticipated, and there was not sufficient competition ... Mr. Murray informed us that it is proposed to hold another show at the end of March, principally for fruit exhibitions." I couldn't find any further reference to either the Supply Depot or any fruit shows organised by Murray. It would appear he lost the war.

William Tullbardine Murray wasn't a gardener by occupation, oddly enough: he was a teacher, living at Avondale from c.1887, in which year he purchased part of the Aickin family's Avondale estate, a 10-acre farmlet fronting onto Avondale Road itself. He sold this piece of land to Thomas Jackson in 1893, which is soon after the Supply Depot's disappearance from the records. Thomas and Elizabeth Jackson renamed the house there on Murray's land "Meliora", and went on to found the Victoria Hall church.

[Update, 6 March 2010: Historian John Adam, while working on a Rosebank horticultural history project for the Avondale-Waterview Historical Society, came across an interesting article published in the Bee and Poultry Journal, of December 1891. In it, Murray's 35-acre market garden is described in considerable detail. I wondered how Murray's 10-acres at 103 Avondale came to be 35 acres. Last night, in a quick search before LINZ shutdown for the evening, I discovered that he leased land on either side, around the same time, the total holdings coming up to just over 35 acres, including the site of Hayward Wright's nursery in the 20th century.]

Murray's career is so far only known from circumstantial bits and pieces. In October 1892, he tried, unsuccessfully, to run for a position on the Auckland Board of Education. The next possible appearance after he left Avondale is via the Presbyterian archives, where there is a reference to a Rev. William Tullibardine Murray, formerly a teacher, who was ordained as a Home Missionary in 1917, serving in Hanmer and Normanby before dying in 1923, losing his life while climbing Mt. Egmont.

I'll be looking for more information on this intriguing character, that's for certain.

The Attack on Miss Rose Thomas

An incident took place on a summer’s evening in Avondale over a hundred years ago, which led to a police line-up, an arrest, and not one but three court hearings.

In mid January 1905, Miss Rose Thomas took up employment as a servant for Charles Grey, director of the well-known Grey & Menzies firm of soft drink manufacturers, Avondale school committee member, and later mayor of Auckland City from 1909-1910. She worked at Grey’s Avondale home of Banwell, just off what was then known as Windsor Road (today’s Chalmers Street).

On the 28th of January, a week after she began her job at Banwell, Rose went to Arthur Page’s store to buy some groceries at a quarter to eight in the evening, and was served by Edward Qualtrough. From there, she headed to a baker’s shop, run by one of her cousins, stayed there for around five minutes, then headed for home at around 8.30 pm. From Page’s store, she headed across to Binsted’s corner and along St Georges Road, past the public hall and the Presbyterian Church on the other side. A short way past Binsted’s butcher’s shop, she later told the court, a man she didn’t know passed her on the footpath, kept ahead of her, then disappeared. 200 yards further on, she looked back, and saw a man following her. Rose then turned into another road.

A short way along that road, Rose felt a man catch her by the throat, throwing her to the ground, saying, “Not a murmur, or I will blow your brains out.” He bumped her face against the stones on the road, and she lost consciousness. When she came to, she was on her back in a ditch beside the road, the man there beside her, holding what appeared in the gloom to look like a revolver (although Rose later said it may simply have been a piece of stick). He made “some improper suggestions”; then told her to keep still as they both heard the sound of people walking along the road nearby. He told her to keep still, but once the people, Mrs. Ellen March, three other ladies and some children, came nearer, Rose let out a scream.

The man tried to put his hands around her throat to stop her screams, but she got free and started to scramble away. The man went over a hedge and disappeared into the dark. Rose screamed again, “Save me, he will kill me!”, and ran out of the ditch, her hat on one side and her hair disheveled. She clung to one of the ladies as they took her to Grey’s house up the hill.

Constable O’Grady was at Page’s Store himself until 8.45 pm. On his way home, he came upon the ladies and the distraught Rose Thomas. Hearing from them about that had taken place, he asked Rose to give him a description of the man who had attacked her. All she could say was that he wore a slouch hat, dark coat, and a collarless white shirt. O’Grady then headed back to Avondale, and said later that he recognised a man fitting the description Rose gave him, standing under the lamp of the Avondale Hotel and with dust on the knees of his trousers – John Hughes, a married local resident. He questioned Hughes as to his whereabouts at the time of the attack, and was told that Hughes had seen Rose Thomas at Pages Store earlier that evening, while he was buying a fishing line and a copy of the NZ Herald. He passed her on the way to his own house, and was there for around 10 minutes before he decided to head back out to the hotel. On his way there, he passed Mrs. March and her companions, just as one had struck a match and then sent one of the children with them back to the store. This was around 8.45 pm.

In Avondale, as he was making his way to the hotel from the footpath outside Page’s Store, he was spotted by William H. Scarlett from where the other man stood on the hotel’s verandah opposite the store, and invited by Scarlett to make up a four-handed game of cards at the hotel. At the door to the hotel, Hughes was stopped and questioned by Constable O’Grady, promised to turn up at the Police Station the next day, then went inside and played cards until 10 o’clock. Scarlett described Hughes as sober, and quite calm.

The following day, O’Grady organised a line-up at the station, and got Hughes to stand in line with some other men. O’Grady counselled Rose to be very careful and see if she could recognise the man who had attacked her. She picked out Hughes. Hearing his voice and seeing his hands, she said, made her feel more positive it was him. O’Grady then arrested Hughes, charging him with attempted rape. Hughes remarked, “I did not assault the girl, but if she says so I suppose I must put up with it.”

Hughes fronted up before the magistrate at the Police Court on 6 February, and over the course of two days the details of the case were laid before the public. Right from the start, Hughes’ lawyer raised the point that the prosecution of his client rested solely on identification – and that was prone to error. The lawyer, J. R. Lundon, questioned Rose as to whether her assailant had whiskers or not, and whether Hughes was the only man in the line-up with a white collarless shirt. The answer to both questions was no, but Rose wavered slightly in her certainty. It didn’t help that there was apparently another attempted attack on a young girl in the area a few days after Hughes’ arrest. Hughes was still committed for trial at the Supreme Court however, the magistrate feeling that there was a case to answer. Hughes was allowed bail in his personal recognisance of £200 and two others of £100 each.

Then came a long wait for the Supreme Court hearing. I trawled through the newspapers from February to May, looking for the hearing – the wait for Hughes must have been nerve-wracking. Whether he remained in Avondale while awaiting the verdict, even if he did post bail, is not known. If he did stay here, the gossips would have had a field day.

Finally and eventually, on 26 May 1905, his second trial took place. This also took two days (Friday and Saturday), but was abandoned for a retrial the following Tuesday. At his third trial, all over in a day, he was finally acquitted.

“In summing up yesterday evening in the case against John Hughes, charged with indecently assaulting a girl at Avondale, His Honor said it was plain to him that the evidence of identification was not strong enough. And the case depended entirely on identification, the fact that an assault was committed by somebody not having been disputed. No doubt there was strong suspicion about the matter, and it was unfortunate for the prisoner that he should have been about near the scene of the assault about that time, dressed in clothes which answered the description given by the girl to the police immediately after the occurrence. However, it was not sufficient that the clothing was identified, because there might reasonably have been other men about the district with slouch hats, dark coats and white shirts. There must be something more than that before they could convict … The case certainly looked very suspicious, but he did not think they could say that “beyond all reasonable doubt” the prisoner in the dock was the author of the outrage … Under all the circumstances he thought the jury would be quite safe in acquitting the accused.”

(Auckland Star, 31 May 1905)

Sheep in the Whau

Avondale isn't especially renowned as a sheep district -- but, along with cattle, sheep were the occupiers of many of the large farms in the area from the mid 1840s through to the end of the 19th century. The earliest sheep farm may have been that of John Kelly. Robert Chisholm from the 1860s through to the 1870s certainly ran sheep. Benjamin Gittos had one of the very few wool scouring operations as part of his tannery, and may well have cleaned fleece from local flocks.

The Appendices to the Journals of the House of Representatives is a goldmine of information collected by the government on various aspects of New Zealand life. One volume alone, Part H of 1895, published a detailed list of sheep owners in the the County of Eden (the Auckland isthmus). Such a list wasn't repeated -- probably because before 1894, there were a lot more sheep owners, and afterward, too few to bother with statistically.

Out of the list came the names, and flock totals, of three Avondale sheep owners as at 1894 and 1895.

H & J Binsted, the butchers, owned 24 sheep and lambs in 1894, and 20 the next year.
Alexander Blayney had 173 sheep in 1894, but zero in 1895.

And the number one sheep owner in Avondale? The Hon. Daniel Pollen, just before he died in 1896, with 291 (1894) and 290 (1895).

Ostriches again

Following on from this earlier post.

I woke up this morning, and wondered, "Well, if Matson from Canterbury was the first successful ostrich farmer in the colony, what happened, and why have the Nathans now got the limelight?" Back to Papers Past I go (hey, Mad Bush? This is all your fault, my friend ...)

In 1881, the fact the Cape Colony had been so successful in farming ostriches drew the attention of the Australian colonies (a businessman in South Australia imported them by the flock, which may have later been the main supply for the Nathans) and even America (importations were reported to California.) Sir George Grey thought this might be a great stimulus for an economy which was already starting to have the wobbles after the Vogel era. In 1881, he suggested an incentive package for the first 50 ostriches landed in the colony. (Tuapeka Times, 14 September 1881) The government had a few thoughts, and by 1882, this had been boiled down to "a bonus of £5 per head for healthy ostrich chicks landed in New Zealand for the purpose of being reared and maintained in the Colony; the number of any importation to be not less than 10 and not more than 50." (Bay Of Plenty Times, 4 September 1882)

J. T. Matson was the first to import ostriches in 1883, and by 1886 he was shipping 2000 feathers to London. Two of his ostriches in 1889 had names: Mr. and Mrs. Gladstone. (Poverty Bay Herald, 17 December 1889) Over the course of 1891-1893, he planned the setting up of the Ostrich Farming Company, but unfortunately died in 1895 before this could be fully realised. What happened to his ostriches is unknown as this time.

Meanwhile, up north, the Nathans made arrangements to transfer their birds to Pukekohe in 1902, and the Helvetia Ostrich Farm was fully set up by 1905. I guess the ones who kept things going the longest get the limelight.

By the way, there's a site online about the history of Whitford which states:

"Ostriches on Nathans “Whitford Park” estate provided feathers for the fashion trade from 1869 until the 1920s."

This has even been passed over to the Wikipedia page on Whitford, the writer using Alan La Roche's marvellous book The History of Howick and Pakuranga (1991) as a source. Unfortunately, the writer didn't read the source properly, for Mr. La Roche actually wrote:

"In 1869 Mr. Kennedy sold to Messrs L A & N A Nathan who in 1887-1888 imported ostriches. The first came from the Kaipara and from Queensland. The second flock came direct from South Africa, many dying on the trip."( p. 195)

So, the early 1869 date appears to be an error of quick-reading.

More on the ostriches

My good friend from Back Roads wrote in comment to the first ostrich post:

"Dick Scott contended in Seven Lives on Salt River that Nathan was not the first to import Ostriches into New Zealand. However I'm still looking into the Bickerstaffe Ostrich Farm on the Kaipara started by Victor Nissen. According to Dick Scott Nissen basically went broke and sold the birds to Nathan. He maintained that Nathan had been credited instead of Nissen. Hard to know really I found quite a few articles from the beginning of 1887 about Nissen and the Ostriches at the Kaipara. Otago Daily Witness also had published a great photograph of the farm Nissen owned."

I responded:

"Edward Waters who died in 1898 also owned ostriches which went to the Nathans (Observer, 3 September 1898). The Evening Post has articles on Nissen bringing in African ostriches to the Otamatea district in 1887, yes, but the Nathans were hatching eggs at Whitford in 1888 (under Nissen's management.) I think that Nissen and the Nathans had a dead-heat in the case of ostrich cultivation."

Well, not exactly, but sorting this out is why I'm doing this post.

The government apparently offered a bonus in 1882 for the successful importation of ostriches into New Zealand. (Te Aroha News, 21 May 1887) An early contender was J. T. Matson of Canterbury, who hatched seven ostriches by 4 January 1887, and apparently they weren’t his first brood. (Evening Post, 4 January 1887). The barque Johanna Broderson, with 49 ostriches, was towed into Kaipara Harbour later that same month, the birds destined for Victor Nissen’s farm at Otamatea. (Evening Post, 27 January 1887). However, by March, he was selling the birds, business, kit and kaboodle. (Taranaki Herald, 14 March 1887) Enter the Nathans – by 30 June, Nissen was working for them on his Wairoa farm (now, probably, theirs as well). (Poverty Bay Herald, 30 June 1887). The rest would be as per the Lawrence Nathan history, with the flock headed to Whitford.

According to Dick Scott in Seven Lives on Salt River (p. 38):

“Nissen’s efforts were not given recognition. And by 1900 when the flock had increased to 500 birds (and a half dozen women were employed dressing feathers for export and making fans) Nathans were claiming the credit for having imported the ostriches – a claim repeated in Lawrence D. Nathan’s recent history of the company. The name of Victor Nissen, the man with a great idea gone wrong, deserves a better fate.”

As do the other ostrich contenders, like Matson and Waters. Would make an interesting topic for an article, I’d say. Don't get me started on it just yet, I'm still recovering from the menageries!

An additional -- looks like Matson from Canterbury was the first to make something of a go of farming ostriches, with an importation of two birds from Australia in 1883.

Another post here.

The Whitford Ostriches

Image above: from the Observer, 10 October 1908.

The Nathan family owned 2,656 acres at Whitford, near Auckland, and they decided in 1887 to see if ostriches were a profitable farming product. To this end, they imported 31 birds from the Cape Colony, with replacements from South Australia. Eventually, the flock grew to 600 birds. Feathers were clipped from male ostriches twice a year, and used to make feather boas, scarves, to decorate hats, or (for lower grade feathers) make dusters.

Fashion needs changed, as they do, and the Nathans discontinued their Whitford venture and instead finance the Helvetia Ostrich Company Ltd at Paerata, moving the Whitford flock there. This business was finally liquidated in 1922.

One lasting aspect of the whole venture was the “Ostrich” brand for the Nathans’ Standard tea packets, and Ostrich Road at Paerata.

(Source: Lawrence D. Nathan, As Old as Auckland, 1984, p. 60)

THE GROWTH OF OSTRICH FEATHERS IN NEW ZEALAND
An interesting and valuable collection of ostrich feathers is on view at the warehouse of Messrs. L. D. Nathan and Co., Shortland-street. These feathers have been grown at the Whitford Park farm. Though in the raw state, just as they have been taken from the birds, they are beautiful plumes, of glossy, silken textures, and a varying degree of colour.

They have been collected into bundles of twelve or fifteen each. Some stately feathers, cut from beneath the wings, are of snow white, some are delicately streaked with grey, more are of a light drab, some are tipped with brown, and others, short, bulky plumes, are of a rich black. If the feathers look so attractive in their present condition, their sheen sparking in the sunlight, they ought to be doubly beautiful when they are cleaned and curled, and made ready for the market.
It is Mr. Nathan’s intention to send them to England for sale. They have been taken from birds, none of which are over two years old, and those from ostriches eight months old are tipped with the brown colour characteristic of very young feathers.

There are 158 of these birds, old and young, all thriving and health, at Whitford Park. No trouble is experienced in rearing them, as they practically run wild, and are given only turnips in the winter season. For the rest of the year they eat grass, and probably the staple articles which tradition assigns as the desert for the fearful and wonderful stomach of an ostrich.

The feathers now on view form an indisputable proof of the suitableness of the Auckland climate for ostrich farming. They are of considerable value, for articles such as these are always in demand amongst those who can pay the high price asked for them, and are willing to spend money in that way.

(NZ Herald, 9 March 1892)

Fifty of Mr. L. D. Nathan's yearling ostriches are to be offered for sale shortly. Ostriches are said to be as remunerative as sheep, and less bother. Seems to us there is a great future before the ostrich. Just now the bird's value is simply its crop of feathers for the adornment of hats and bonnets. But in that veracious history known as “The Swiss Family Robinson”, it will be remembered, a member of the celebrated family succeeded in taming an ostrich and converting it into a beast of burden. Possibly in the sweet by-and-bye we may yet see ostriches harnessed to our cabs and 'buses, and 'hack ostriches' will be advertised as 'used to carrying a lady,' and 'quiet to ride or drive.' And possibly ostrich races may form an amusement of the future.

(Observer, Volume XIV, Issue 782, 30 December 1893, Page 7)

An ostrich update here.

Archaeopedia New Zealand

I've just found this site today: Archaeopedia New Zealand, a Wiki for New Zealand archaeology. Quite a bit already loaded on the site, from Northland to Antarctica. I don't personally always stake everything in the way of historical accuracy on an archaelogical report, particularly to do with European sites (it all depends on how deeply the historical research research is done along with the dig itself), but they are a great starting point.

A heated political discussion in Avondale, 1905

Sometimes, we here in Avondale can get really fired up about politics. This article from the Auckland Star, 9 February 1905, comes from the days when John Bollard was MHR for the Eden electorate, which included Avondale's electors. I wonder what he'd done , or not done, to get these two so fired up?

A discussion of a political character between two Avondale residents eventuated in the Police Court to-day, when Mr. Wardell, S.M., listened to a charge of assault preferred by George Glasscock against George Coppin.

The plaintiff stated that as they were going home from the railway station on January 28 a discussion arose over the merits of the member for the constituency, witness being his supporter and the defendant holding different views. The discussion became so heated that Glasscock took the opposite side of the road, but he stated that Coppin crossed over, tripped him up, and punched him several times.

Coppin's story was that hostilities commenced through his political opponent hitting him with a kit which contained something solid, and this was followed by "a couple of rounds", in which Glasscock did fairly well as a boxer. The plaintiff kicked him on the shins and picked up some scoria. Before he could throw it witness threw some at Glasscock.

The magistrate listened to all the evidence and then told the defendant that he disbelieved his story. Coppin had given way to a fir of anger during an exciting political discussion, and kicked the plaintiff. It was a gross assault, and he would be fined £3 with £2 13/ costs, or a month's imprisonment.

St Jude's "wooden shanty", 1907

In 1907, the parish of St Jude's Church in Avondale finally had enough money to get their long-planned Sunday school building/Parish Hall underway at the rear of the church, built in 1884. According to the following Observer article from the time, however, the weather wasn't kind to the parishioners -- and neither, in a way, was the Observer, describing the wooden building as a "shanty". Well, shanty or not, the Parish Hall has stood the test of time (101 years to date) through at least one extension, housing overflows of pupils from the Avondale Primary School, local Scouts and Girl Guides, parish fairs and formal gatherings.

"Moore Richard" is the Observer's arch way of referring to Bishop Neligan.

Observer, Volume XXVII, Issue 43, 13 July 1907, Page 16

The St. Judeans of Avondale were taught a rather severe lesson in connection with a "wooden shanty,"' which they are raising to the glory of Avondale and the good of the church. They announced that the ceremony of laying the foundation stone would take place on a certain day and that Bishop Neligan would shed the light of his countenance and pour out his episcopal blessing upon the undertaking, which goes to show that Moore Richard is inconsistently kind, or, perhaps it would be more correct to say, kindly inconsistent.

Perhaps, however, it would be still more correct to say that Moore Richard draws a fine distinction between a parish hall and a church, in which case it may also be presumed that the episcopal blessing is not quite so powerful in the former case as in the latter. However this may be, the Avondale Judeans neglected to qualify their announcement by inserting the proviso "weather and other circumstances permitting." The consequences were disastrous. The winds blew, the rain descended, the floods came with such emphasis that the function had to be postponed. In the meantime, the foundation stone was nicely fixed by the contractor.

The postponed ceremonial was announced for a day later, and this time the St. Judeans, who had evidently taken their lesson to heart, stated that the function would eventuate on the day fixed, "D.V." Then things panned out all right.

To be sure the stone was already laid, but it looked just as well as if the orthodox benediction had been duly bestowed upon it. But Moore Richard came, with a number of the lesser lights and dignitaries. The weather was propitious, for Jupiter Pluvius honoured the occasion with his absence. The indispensable benediction, albeit somewhat belated, was duly poured out, and the erection of the wooden shanty of St. Jude's Parish Hall is now proceeding apace.

Robert Charles Greenwood

Greenwood was an early landowner in Avondale, including Allotment 66 in the New Windsor area behind what was later to become Methuen Hamlet, and Captain James' property in the same locality. He was a land agent, auctioneer and investor, but his name pops up from time to time in reports on Avondale's local social events, meetings etc. of the early 1880s. This was a man with connections with a capital "C".

Observer, Volume v, Issue 115, 25 November 1882, Page 174

Mr. Robert Charles Greenwood, the deservedly popular and enterprising land and estate agent … is a native of Kendal, or more correctly Kirby in Kendal, a church town in the dale of Ken, Westmoreland, which has long been-celebrated for its woollen manufactures, first introduced by Flemish weavers upwards of seven centuries ago. His grandfather was E. Greenwood, of Greenwood House. Aranside, near Milinthorpe, Westmoreland, and his father a physician of some eminence enjoying an extensive practice.

The subject of this memoir was born in the year 1844, near Liverpool, where his parents were temporarily residing. He had the advantage of a careful education by the Benedictine Fathers, of Preston. His uncle, Mr. Alfred Domett, the celebrated author of "Ranolf and Amohia, a South Sea Dream," the best representative national poem of New Zealand, was at that time engaged in "the heroic work of colonisation," and in consequence of his representations as to the agricultural resources of the colony, Mr. Greenwood was encouraged to regard a colonial career as the most advantageous sphere for the employment of his talents and energies. With this view he was engaged during a period of three or four years in the study of practical farming in England, and in 1869 he had so far mastered the details of the business as to be ready to emigrate to Auckland.

Prior to leaving England he married a daughter of Favez de Peutereah, a distinguished French Commander who accompanied the First Consul in his famous exploit of crossing the Alps. Another brother held the appointment of Inspector of Military Colleges in France. The seat of the family was the Chateau De Corsier, , a famous aristocratic mansion.

Arriving with his wife in New Zealand in 1869, Mr. Greenwood found the colony suffering from the stagnation and paralysis which succeeded the war, with few favourable openings for the employment of his talents. Possessing, however, some interest with the Ministry of the day, several lucrative civil appointments were offered him by Sir Julius Vogel, one of which he accepted, and continued to discharge for a period of three years. Nothing daunted by the somewhat unpropitious character of his first experience of colonial life, he was always watching for an opportunity for entering into business on his own account in some field which would afford more favourable scope for his active and enterprising habits, and when a more favourable turn was given to affairs by the inauguration of the Immigration and Public Works Policy, he determined to sever his connection with officialism. The office of Market Inspector being vacant, he secured the position out of 100 candidates who competed for it. Twelve months later, when the leases of the market stalls were put up to auction Mr. Greenwood became the purchaser, and under his management the income derived by the Borough from this source was largely increased.

Three years ago he commenced business as an auctioneer and land and estate agent at the corner of Shortland and Queen streets. For some years past Mr. Greenwood has directed his attention to the improvement of the many beautifully-situated suburban properties around the city. Some of these properties, admirably adapted for villa and business sites, were lying practically unutilised, their owners unaware of their real value, or wanting the requisite skill and enterprise to place them in a profitable market. Mr. Greenwood's excellent judgment and keen foresight, however, enabled him to perceive that the rapid extension of the city and the active and increasing demand for building sites presented a favourable opportunity for disposing of many of these suburban properties to the best advantage, and under his skilful manipulation they have been sold with mutual benefit to seller and buyer. During the past two months he has disposed of land to the value of upwards of £30, 000, and he has now many extensive properties in his hands for purposes of realisation.

Mr. Greenwood's operations are marked by skill, judgment, and caution, combined with all the energy and dash of a Wall-street speculator. He knows exactly the right moment to make a coup, or to wait for a better opportunity. His handsome and commodious Land Mart, next door to the establishment of Messrs Fisher and Co., Queen-street, is situated in the very centre of the commercial traffic of the city. The building will shortly be opened, and will be a great convenience to sellers and purchasers.

Mr. Greenwood lives at Mount Albert, where he has a charming residence, and in the intervals of business he finds time to devote himself to the ornamentation and improvement of his grounds, and the cultivation of rare flowers, and fruits. He has also another marine residence at Waipapa, commanding delightful views of the coast scenery, and enjoying the healthy seabreezes. The place is a favourite resort of people fond of piscatorial pursuits. Mr. Green wood's residence at Mount Albert is the scene of frequent social gatherings, at which his amiable wife shines with conspicuous grace as a hostess. Mr. Greenwood is a man of kindly and genial disposition, and is universally popular and respected, apart from his excellent business qualities.

He died 29 June 1898 in Devonport. He was the father of the Greenwood family of musicians, according to the Evening Post.

Otago Witness, Issue 2314, 7 July 1898, Page 39
Mr. R. C. Greenwood, an old and well-known resident of Auckland, and father of Miss Maribel Greenwood, who is at present agent but subsequently made heavy losses, went to Australia, and returned at the beginning of the gold mining boom.

Avondale Railway Station - work continues

The signs are up regarding the change from January 19th 2009 to the temporary platforms at Trent and Tait Street, and the total stoppage of all services over Christmas/New Years from Boxing Day until January 18th so that Ontrack can get a move on and get on with the work at New Lynn, Avondale, and even Newmarket.

The Trent Street platform is shaping up.

Behind the plastic mesh is a long, curved clay trench, and they're still working their way back towards Trent Street. A new railway line there? It's a wait-and-see. The garden composting firm has now also gone from the Rosebank frontage of the railway land -- but, so far, the pigeon club building is still standing.

Stranded! In Avondale, of all places! (1900)

A wee tale found on Papers Past.

Observer, Volume XXI, Issue 1137, 13 October 1900, Page 16
My Dear Muriel,—
I must tell you of a story I heard the other day, all about a girl's presence of mind and the deplorable— to put it mildly — horridness of human nature as revealed by an Avondale bus driver. Said girl had been spending the evening with friends, and was put into the last Avondale 'bus, and the driver was given directions as to where to put her down, as she hails from Wellington and does not know her way about here. The driver forgot, and when they arrived at the Avondale stables was very indignant with the girl because — well, because it was his fault that she had been brought miles away from her destination and did not know what to do. Imagine being stranded late at night — and at Avondale! Well, the driver did not attempt to help her find some sort of shelter; said she could sleep in the 'bus or in the stable — he didn't care. And, as she declined both tempting offers, left her alone. After a search she found the hotel but failed to make anyone hear, then — this is where the presence of mind comes in — searched for and found the police station, where the constable's wife took her in and gave her a bed. I do not think many girls would have been so sensible. I know one who would have sat down and wept. This particular Wellington one is a bright and shining example, but, as for the 'bus driver— well, ask the girl what she thinks. They say she is quite eloquent on the subject.

Observer, Volume XX, Issue 1138, 20 October 1900, Page 8
Mr. Andrews, 'bus proprietor, has interviewed us in reference to a paragraph in our last issue, in which the troubles were related of a lady who, being a stranger in Auckland, was taken by mistake in the night bus to Avondale instead of Mount Roskill, and in which the driver was said to have been none too polite to the lady in her dilemma, or too ready to find her accommodation. Mr. Andrews says the driver, instead of acting as reported, did all in his power to assist the lady, and also accompanied her to the police station, and, through the courtesy of the constable's wife, secured her accommodation for the night. We have since seen the lady, who states that she was certainly told by the driver where the station was, but that be made no offer to accompany her, nor did he do so. She found her way to the station herself.

All this at a time just before Avondale had a purpose-built police station. The young lass did rather well.

Gentry Story

Image taken April 2002. Avondale-Waterview Historical Society collection.

I remember visiting this shop, The Gentry at 1685 Great North Road, on spotting it while researching for Heart of the Whau in late 2001, and looking inside. It was one of the last of the old-time barber shops then (a men's hairdresser, they call it these days). Now, I'm only going on memory here, but I'm fairly sure the proprietor, a very helpful person, told me that the place had legends attached to it. One was that it was built in the late 19th or early 20th centuries as a soft-drink stop for thirsty travellers who didn't want to use the more alcoholic facilities provided by the Avondale Hotel a mile or so further down the road (it's claimed that masses of bottles were found at the rear of the house to which the shop is attached), and the other was that it was haunted, and had apparently featured on the telly at some time.

Avondale, even though we're just a suburb of Auckland these days, has a number of ghost stories about the place handed down over the centuries.

Anyway ... come December 2008, and I wondered if the soft-drink part of the story might have meant that this place had an association with James Turton, "cordial manufacturer and hawker" living in Avondale 1895-1903. So, I went digging.

Benjamin Irwin Bollard (son of John Bollard, an early Avondale horseback postie, postal clerk in the city, and Whau storekeeper) purchased part of the former Gittos landholding near present-day Heron Park in 1904, 12½ acres between Great North Road and the Waitemata Harbour (now part of Motu Manawa Reserve.) Looking up the 1912 valuation roll for the Avondale Road Board at Auckland City Archives yesterday, I found that Ben Bollard had a handful of other land holdings in the Avondale area as well. When his father died in March 1915, it was Ben Bollard who took over his business.

In 1909, Bollard dedicated a road through his property at Allotment 69, and called it Seaview Road (excellent choice of name when selling property in Auckland). Today, after a number of changes over the years, the street is called Saltaire. In August 1909, he sold part of the property to an Avondale carpenter/builder named David John Habgood, the site of The Gentry. Habgood wasn't there for long -- just enough to possibly build a house on the site before selling it to Frederick Thomas Beazley, a labourer living in Avondale. By 1919, when Bollard was selling off his Seaview Road sections in earnest, the house was on the site -- but not lock-up shop at the front as yet. This was the year when Beazley sold the property in turn to Francis Ross Mackie, recorded as an attendant (given the proximity of the Mental Hospital, he may have worked there). Mackie named his home "Iona" (harking back to Scottish memories, perhaps).

The earliest certain documentation for the existence of the shop at the front is 1928 when the Auckland City Council's valuers described it as a "lock-up" type of business after the amalgamation with Avondale. Tracing back through the directories, which is also largely guesswork at this early stage, the names of Percy and Edward Sanderson show up alongside that of Mackie along Great North Road. Possibly (only possibly, mind you), Percy who was a boot importer and Edward who imported cutlery, may have operated from the small shop from a time, c.1924-1930.

From c.1930, Mackie's wife is listed in the directories alongside him, as a dressmaker. This may have denoted that she operated a dressmaking home business from the shop. This business appears have been carried on by the wife of the next owner of the property, Arthur Eli Sydney Butler originally from Pt Chevalier (from 1938-1954). Butler worked as a concrete worker and kerb layer.

Under Robert Millar Hay's ownership from 1954, the shop was rented out and became a hairdressers (in 1959, the proprietor was a Mrs. Jan E. Medwood). According to internet searches today, it still is, although there have been many changes of ownership since the 1950s.

So ... I have my doubts about the soft-drink-stop story, and the ghost story sounds a bit out of place as well, unless the ghost is one of Robert Chisholm's sheep from his farm (of which this site was a part) in the 19th century). The bottles found could have just been what Hapgood, Beazley, Mackie and Butler had gone through over the years.

Still, as I well know, interesting stories (even without a shred of truth to them) will always stick around.

Sources:
LINZ records: certificates of title, DP 4736
Auckland postal directories, Auckland Research Centre, Auckland Central Library
Valuation field sheets (ACC 213/59d) and Avondale Road Board/Borough Council valuation records 1913 & 1924, AVB 004/2-6, Auckland City Archives

Canvas City: the 3rd (Auckland) Mounted Rifles at Avondale

Well, I've just finished the article I mentioned back at this post and loaded it to Scribd.

Canvas City: The 3rd (Auckland) Mounted Rifles camp, Avondale Racecourse 1912

Publish at Scribd or explore others: Military/War History