Art and Memory at Manurewa

I was in Manurewa township today to give a talk on Chinese history in Auckland to a U3A group. Heading from the train station there, I took a walk along Great South Road to get to the St Andrews Presbyterian Church Hall  -- and spotted wonderful wall murals outside the post office on the way.

The Manurewa Business Association paid Dog Ford to do up the town in his own special style in 2010.

This particular couple, so three-dimensional, yet they are just colours on a small piece of wall, overlooking the historic Great South Road.

This is labelled as someone wearing 1928-style postal uniform. I don't think he'll have much luck getting that wood pigeon to carry the message ...

And no, the pigeon doesn't too impressed ...

While I was taking these photos, a local came up to me, and enthusiastically encouraged me to look around the corner for more murals. So very cool to see the locals proud of the art in their township that they're pointing it out to visitors.

Around the corner -- surreality.

Followed by a glimpse into a NZ forest.

Okay, I thought, got to get going to my appointment. But, what happens? I spot the war memorial outside Manurewa School.

Yes, I did finally get to the church hall, and had a great morning with the group there. Afterward, I walked back to the station, via Station Road. And ... more murals.

Beautiful day, beautiful township, art and memory along an old road full of history.

18 Paget Street, Ponsonby

2008 aerial, from Auckland Council website

Edited, 24 October 2016: the house has now been demolished.

I’ve had a number of people come up to me ever since the story broke regarding the demolition consent controversy around 18 Paget Street in Ponsonby, all wanting to know more about the history of the place. The NZ Herald plastered itself with reports in January this year on the issues raised by the proposed demolition of one of the oldest houses in the street.

14.1.2012

Council about-face on demolition plan

16.1.2012

Decision on historic home sparks fears for others

17.1.2012

Paget St planner linked to earlier demolition

18.1.2012

Sale of historic cottage demolition material on hold

25.1.2012

Council stands by ruling to demolish 130-yr-old cottage

Etc., etc. ...

Okay. A couple of points.

First, it has always been called Paget Street, since 1861 when it was so named by the developer of the original 4 acre plot of land bounded by Anglesea Street, Ponsonby Road and Picton street, despite the Auckland Library database suggesting an 1883-1912 switch to Pettit Street. The 1908 City of Auckland Plan shows “Paget”, not “Pettit”.

Second, was the original part of the house at 18 Paget ever one of the buildings removed from the Albert Barracks during 1873-1881? Unlikely. I don't think it was ever just a "two-roomed cottage", even at the beginning. More later in this post.

What the land history tells us is this:

The Crown Grant from the government for the land of which the site is part was relatively late in terms of Auckland land history. In 1860, two gents named Arrowsmith and Mactier had their names on the first title, then quickly transferred to a Mr Wood (quite possibly land agent Michael Wood). In 1861, Wood transferred to Thomas Russell, and Paget Street was formed, along with Russell’s subdivision. (Deeds Index 9A.192)

Lots 15-18, corner of Anglesea and Paget Streets, was sold to Alfred Scales in October 1862. He owned the four sections until March 1866, when he met a bit of a financial dip.

Mr. Samuel Cochrane will sell by auction to-day, at the residence of Mr. Alfred Scales, Anglesea street, Ponsonby Road, the whole of his valuable cabinet furniture, books, pictures, &c.; also at 11 o'clock, at his stores, 250 bags of Tamaki potatoes.

SC 20.4.1866

The death of Mr. Alfred Scales at the early age of 47 is announced in an obituary notice in our paper this evening: For many months Mr Scales had been a confirmed invalid, and for the past fire or six months has been closely confined to his bedroom. Mr. Scales, as a printer, has seen a good many vicissitudes. In the “palmy” days of the soldiers, when there was a large contingent of English troops in and around Auckland Mr Scales was, with Mr. R J Creighton, one of the lessees of the Daily Southern Cross, at a time when money was plentiful in Auckland. After spending some time in Melbourne, Mr. Scales returned to New Zealand and became reader in the Government printing office. Afterwards he joined his former partner, Mr Creighton, in the management of the New Zealand Times, and subsequently returned to the Government service. As we have said, for several months Mr Scales has been suffering from consumption, gradually sinking. Mr Scales had the reputation of being a printer possessing large experience and excellent taste in the promotion of printing work. He had many friends, who will regret his early death. Mr Scales leaves a widow but no children.

Evening Post 28.10.1878

Scales owned three pieces of land in Auckland in 1866: the Anglesea-Paget land, land bounded by Anglesea/Ponsonby/Collingwood Street, and land fronting Great North Road. (19D.687). The Anglesea-Paget property did have a single-storey wooden dwelling on it as at 1866-1867. This fronted Anglesea Street, near the Paget corner.

Detail from 1866 Vercoe & Harding map, NZ Map 18, Sir George Grey Special Collections, Auckland Libraries

A “gentleman who is leaving Auckland” arranged to have auctioneers C Arthur & Son sell the gentleman’s household furniture from “the house known as Mr Scales’, at 12 noon” at “Anglesea Street, near Ponsonby Road.” (SC 23.1.1870)

Then in September 1871, William Brown (through his agent and partner John Logan Campbell) sold the Anglesea-Paget corner to Mary Winslow Dickson, wife of Richard Dickson, who was also involved with the transaction. (24D.485) The price was £260. Just over a year later, in October 1872, the Dicksons transferred 26 perches of that land (the site of 18 Paget) to sharebroker Edgar Wright Walker for £440. (24D.284) Now, it is likely that the Dickson purchase from Brown was worth much more than just £260, and that possibly Dickson had done some sort of deal with the Brown & Campbell firm. But the high price Walker paid seems to indicate that he bought not just land, but a building as well – along with a water right to a well over the boundary in the Anglesea St property still held by the Dicksons. There was also an existing tenancy at 18 Paget Street – “… subject to the tenancy of one Dacre therein which expires on the first day of April one thousand eight hundred and seventy-three …”

Detail from Deed volume 24D page 284, LINZ records

The name looks like “Dacre”, and there was a James Dacre living on Ponsonby Road in 1872 (report of a stillbirth, Star, 2.8.1872). If this is correct, and there was a tenant there, possibly with a three year agreement, then this would indicate that the dwelling there dated from possibly 1870.

Which brings in the question as to whether or not the building was shifted to the site from the Albert Park barracks. Actually, I think it is unlikely.

From my previous post on the Rutland St drill hall:

“Right down to November 1871, it wasn’t certain what the reserve’s future would be. Finally, in December, the Albert Barracks Reserves Act of 1871 established a board of commissioners made up of the Provincial Council Superintendent, the Mayor of Auckland, the Speaker and the Secretary of the Provincial Council, along with James Farmer, Judge Francis Dart Fenton, Theophilus Heale, James MacKay junior, William Thorne Buckland and Thomas Macready.

"A second act in 1872 officially vested the Albert Barracks Reserve lands in the Provincial Superintendent, who in turn appointed commissioners to manage the property. This was the beginning of the City Improvement Commissioners who first met as a body on 2 December 1872, made up of the Superintendent, the Mayor of Auckland, Judge Fenton, G. M. O’Rorke, Provincial Secretary H. H. Lusk, W. T. Buckland, J. M. Clark, T. Macready, and Stannus Jones. A third act in 1873 vested the reserve with the Commissioners directly. Judge Thomas Gillies, who was also Superintendent at the time, opposed this third Act however, expressing his personal concerns that the Commissioners were being given too much power.”

The removal of the barrack buildings likely didn't start until 1873 -- a bit later than the appearance of something substantial indicated at 18 Paget Street.

Auckland Star 22.12.1873

Auckland Star 13.3.1874

Auckland Star 30.3.1876

Auckland Star 16.5.1877

The building above, by the way, had been used by Mr Brogden during planning for the railway from Auckland to Drury, including completion of the first Parnell rail tunnel.

The builder of 18 Paget Street’s original structure was quite possibly builder and politician Richard Dickson. If so, 18 Paget Street's building had some merit historically because of that fact.

“Mr. Richard Dickson, who was elected to a seat in the Auckland City Council in 1876, was born in Tyrone, Ireland, in 1829, and at an early age went to America, where he followed the trade of a cabinet-maker. He returned to the Old Country in 1850, and two years later sailed for Australia. After spending three years in Sydney and Melbourne he came to Auckland and established himself in the building trade. It was he who erected the New Zealand Insurance Company's Buildings, the Bank of New Zealand, the Lorne Street Hall, Tyrone Buildings, the Museum, and other noteworthy places. He was associated with the Oddfellows for many years, and took an active interest in St. Matthew's Church. Mr. Dickson was contractor for the Patea Breakwater, and was accidentally killed whilst working at the contract in 1879.”

Cyclopedia of NZ, NZETC

Many of our readers will join with us in a feeling of regret at the sudden and unexpected death of Mr Dickson, contractor, recently of this city, and a member of the City Council. The particulars of Mr Dickson’s death will be found among this day's telegrams from Patea, from which it appears that Mr Dickson was assisting at the Patea Breakwater works, when he fell in front of the crane used for shifting blocks and other materials; his leg being taken off completely, and which was left hanging by a piece of skin. Medical assistance was immediately sent for, and two medical gentlemen were in attendance; but too late to render any real assistance. Mr Dickson died within five minutes of the accident. Mr Dickson was a native of the North of Ireland, and previously to coming to New Zealand, a quarter of a century ago, he worked as a labouring man in California. On settling in Auckland he pursued the business of a contractor with success. He was a man of upright habits of life, and was a useful member of the congregation of St. Matthew's, both as a parishioner and teacher in the Sunday-school. He was comfortably married, but had no family. Mr and Mrs Dickson, however, adopted and educated a little girl, now nearly a young woman, who, we understand, is still with the widow. Mr Dickson was elected a member of the City Council of Auckland on the 14th of September, 1876, a position which he creditably held until circumstances called him to the South in connection with contracts which he had undertaken. The melancholy and fatal accident has cast quite a gloom over the neighbourhood of Mr Dickson’s last earthly labours.

Auckland Star 15.5.1879

Edgar Wright Walker appears to have arrived on the City of Melbourne 23 February 1872, so his purchase of 18 Paget Street was one he made quite early in his Auckland career. By March 1874, He and Mrs Walker were living on Paget Street …

Auckland Star 30.3.1874

… but he was on the move by September that year.

Auckland Star 7.9.1874

In May 1875, Walker sold the property to Edward George Smith for £200 (30D.403) – a considerable drop from the price Walker had paid in late 1872. This may have been due, however, to the undischarged mortgage still on the property deed, which Walker obtained from Ellen Western in 1873 totalling £300 (17M.407). By 1875, Walker was living in Brisbane, Queensland.

The Western mortgage hung over the property until 1877, when it was finally paid in full by auctioneer George William Binney, who therefore obtained title to the house and site. (21M.738)

Auckland Star 18.1.1878

He then sold the property for £400 to John Arthur Cramond in March 1878. The Cramond family were to remain owners of the property up to March 1905.

Auckland Star 4.4.1878

Detail from T W Hickson's map, 1882, NZ Map 91, Sir George Grey Special Collections, Auckland Libraries

Auckland Star 20.4.1893

By the 1890s, the house appears to have gained a name: "The Oaks".

The death occurred at Onehunga on Thursday of Mr John Arthur Cramond, in his 91st year. Mr Cramond was born in London in the year 1830. As a young man he emigrated to South Australia, arriving at Adelaide in 1849 in his father's ship, the Brightman, commanded by Captain Cowley. He was engaged in business there for a number of years. In 1870 he arrived in Auckland, and made his home in New Zealand from then to the time of his death. After being with Messrs Henderson and Macfarlane for a time he entered the service of the Union Steam Ship Company many years ago and remained in that employ until 1900, when he retired from active business. One of his grandsons is at present Mayor of Adelaide.

Hawera & Normanby Star, 15.5.1920

So, I think the house dates from c.1870, built on the site probably by Richard Dickson, and it is one of the earliest on Paget Street, but unlikely to be from the Albert barracks.

I think another question to be asked regarding all the fuss over this building is: what's going to replace it, once it is demolished? We'll have to wait and see.

Update, 27 February 2012: This came in tonight via email from Sandra Coney (see comments below), regarding Anthony Mactier and William Arrowsmith.

"Anthony Mactier was the son of the former governor of the Bengal Province and destined for the Indian Civil Service but this was not to his liking. He trained as a doctor in Edinburgh but then emigrated to NZ. William Arrowsmith (a qualified pharmacist) was a close friend of Anthony Mactier, they travelled to NZ. Arrowsmith and Mactier arrived in NZ in 1858, both originally settled at Ramarama, but they surrendered their land to govt in exchange for 2500 acres at Awhitu. Mactier is mentioned in Thayer Fairburn's book on the Orpheus in connection with finding and burying bodies found on the coast south of the Manukau Harbour entrance in 1863. He was one of the original purchasers of land in the Awhitu Parish 1873, purchasing 203 acres. His homestead Puketapu is still standing near Hamiltons Gap. He left the district during the Land Wars, and Arrowsmith looked after his property. He returned and took a leading role in the affairs of the district. Both Arrowsmith and Mactier gave medical help to fellow settlers. After a period, Mactier sold his farm to Alfred Buckland and retired from farming. However he returned to Awhitu and taught giving his salary to the poor. Mactier was well off but had a social conscience.

"In 1886 he married Susie Seaman, daughter of Thomas Seaman, census enumerator for the north, chair of the Lake District Road Board etc. Anthony and Susie at first lived in Ponsonby - I dont know whether this matches any dates you have for Paget Street, I suspect a bit late. I haven't looked into where they lived in Ponsonby. They later lived in a very large house in Hauraki Rd Takapuna and had a large garden where they grew vegetables the proceeds of which went to Barnadoes.

"Susie Seaman was an early teacher in Takapuna, the first headmistress of Takapuna Primary School, also a poet and novellist, known as "the Takapuna Lake poet". I came across her as one of the women who started the Auckland YWCA.

"Anthony died in 1925 and Susie went to live in Rotoura and died there in 1936.

"So it seems Arrowsmith and Mactier may have been investing in land. Hope this is of some interest as a side-bar to the Paget Street saga."

Edit (23 February 2017) -- the cottage was demolished in October 2016.

"A 135-year-old cottage on death row for four years has finally been demolished by a business couple for a large four-bedroom house. David Elder and Wynnis Armour got a gang of workers to raze the Freemans Bay cottage this week ... The simple white painted cottage with a blue corrugated iron roof survived for the past four years but was removed this week - two months before the demolition consent expires in December."

More here at the article link.

Horse racing at Orakei

Barraud, Charles Decimus 1822-1897 :Maori hack race in full costume. C. D. Barraud del. ; G McCulloch lith. - London ; C F Kell [1877] Reference Number: B-080-031-2-2 Two young Maori men racing horses, one clad only in a shirt, the other in cap, open-fronted shirt shirt and jodhpurs. Alexander Turnbull Library.

From c.1894 to c.1908, there was once organised horse racing meetings at Orakei, behind the settlement at Okahu Bay. For Aucklanders in the 1890s to early years of last century, these country meetings would have provided both a destination for excursions out over the Waitemata Harbour to the wharf at Takaparawha Point -- and a source of entertainment, beyond just the thrill of the bet.

The settlement at Okahu Bay, 1920s. Ref. 4-4439, Sir George Grey Special Collections, Auckland Libraries

Auckland Star 22 December 1894

Auckland Star 5 March 1898

What drew my attention to the story of the Orakei races was the following long descriptive and lively piece from the NZ Herald.

This is a true story of a day at the Orakei race meeting.

A hot sun beamed down upon the little breeze-cooled valley, at the seaward end of which the Maori settlement lay lazily fronting the still waters of the bay. At the rear of the village an open space surrounded on three sides by rising ground, which formed a natural coliseum, wore an animated appearance on Saturday last as a guileless representative of the Herald jumped a muddy creek and joined the crowd of people there assembled. The usual fraternity to be seen “on the outside” at other race meetings had foregathered – two or three hundred of them – ranging from the city man to shabby tout. In and out amongst the throng passed Maori officials, phlegmatic, gravely, and with infinite circumlocution going about their various businesses, as though serious matters were afoot, but there was no hurry. The uninitiated pressman commenced to take his bearings.

Nothing visible was there to indicate where the races were to be run from or to, where the numbers were to go up, or from whence the flag signals were to be flown. In the middle of the ground a large Maori, in a wideawake straw hat and his shirt-sleeves, was helping two wahines to supply thirsty visitors with “soft tack” and watermelon. To him the scribe appealed. The large Maori turned out to be the secretary – a most obliging person – but preoccupied. He pointed out a shed at a little distance where, between two roughly nailed-up bits of kauri, three mystic numbers had been hung. “That the first race,” he said; “three starters.”

Oh,” said his questioner, “and where do they stick up the results?”

Same place,” was the laconic reply.

THE “BOOKIES” SCORE

At that stage one of a group of men carrying large bags, which jingled when they moved, accosted the secretary. “You’d better take it while you can get it,” he said. “None of them will bet if you insist on the ‘two ten’ racket.”

Then the pressman remembered having seen an advertisement, which set forth that bookmakers desiring to bet at this meeting must pay £2 10s for a license, or “stay at home”. They had refused to be domestic, but were in no mood to let their outing cost them more than was necessary. At their spokesman’s blunt statement of the case the preoccupied one fought a silent battle with himself. Good-nature – or was it business instinct? – won the day. “All right,” he ejaculated with startling suddenness, “announce it.”

“Boys,” said the bookies’ representative, in a loud, triumphant voice, “you can bet for a pound.”

“An one shillin’,” chipped in the astute secretary.

“A guinea, boys,” corrected the bettors’ mouthpiece; “come on, pay up, and get a start.”

And they did. Within a few minutes the familiar cry of “Even money on the field” resounded in the air.

Over towards the little shed a native official walked serenely around, looking for the starters for the first race. An old fellow in a white suit acted as his “go between,” and helped to saddle the three horses when they had been found. In the shed upon which appeared the numbers the three riders donned their colours. This was a very useful shed – everybody used it – jockeys, stewards, and public. It was weighing-in room, dressing-room, and stewards’ stand in one. Out of it popped a Maori horseman. He wore a scarlet jacket, with a white stripe, and a pair of long pants. “Lend me a coat,” he cried; “I got to make up 3lb.” Someone filled the order, and he put it on, the tails of the red jacket jauntily flying in the wind from beneath it as he rode away.

Then came the preliminary canter. A comfortable-looking Maori on a sturdy pony cleared the course, which was merely an unevenly trodden track around the pa. The three candidates for a stake of four sovereigns rattled down the straight amidst the cheers of the crowd. Dogs of all sizes and descriptions, awakened from drowsy slumbers by the noise of the clattering hoofs, scuttled down the hill-sides, rushed blindly from diverse bushes, and dived madly yapping, into the clouds of dust raised by the disappearing steeds. Away on the other side of the valley the three riders pulled up. The starter on a Maori “scrubber” got them into line, and hit his hip.

“They’re off,” yelled the people on the rise, from sheltering tea-tree, and the like. The crowd on the green made a rush for the track, and several crossed and ascended to points of vantage. This, of course, gave the clerk of the course some work to do. He did it with as little exercise of muscle and tissue as possible, merely sitting statuesquely on his pony and issuing commands to “keep back there,” like a captain on the bridge. The first time past the winning post, and it was clear to most of the spectators that the chestnut mare must win. She had a lead of many yards, and the other two were, as the racing writer puts it, “under punishment”. Roars of delighted laughter rent the air as the pakehas saw the gallant mare run along the back like the wind, her opponents furlongs to the rear. At the bend her rider pulled her up to an easy amble, and at that pace passed the post, the others nowhere.

“Another round,” shouted some wit in the crowd.

“Yes, another round” – a hundred voices joined in the cry.

The jockeys on the last two horses, who had made a merry “go” of it for second place, were quite willing but as they were about to whip their mounts into renewed efforts, the judge climbed down off his hencoop, and remarked finally, “All over.”

So the crowd was baulked.

Maori group (at a country horse racing meeting?), [ca 1901] Reference Number: 1/1-001882-G Maori group (at a country horse racing meeting?), circa 1901. Photograph taken by the Auckland studio of Hemus and Hanna, probably in the Auckland region.Alexander Turnbull Library.

HORSE OR PONY?

The horse is a sagacious animal. Someone has uttered the same remark before, but that does not make it any the less true. An instance of the sagacity of a horse who was entered for a pony race will now be given. The story of this pony race deserves to go down in posterity in the form of profuse illustrations and accompanying text, a la “Darktown Races” series. It was the third race of the day. The pressman had received priceless information as to the two former events from a small boy with a black body, a red tie, and a white nature. He learnt from him in consultation prior to the pony race that the best “horse” in it was a certain bay mare. “But,” said the knowing youth, “if she wins she’ll be measured after the race.”

Now, the unsophisticated scribe hadn’t the remotest idea why it would not be good for the bay mare to be measured, but he winked slyly at his young friend to cover up any sign of ignorance he may have displayed. The mystery was explained afterwards. To commence with, there was what the pressman would have described as a bad start. The starter had scarcely smacked his hip before the bay mare rose up on her hind legs, with her mouth open. When she did get away she was well in the rear. Curiously enough she forgot to shut her mouth again during the race, and this induced some unkind people to say nasty things about the jockey. That measuring business was blamed for it too. Anyway, the brown gelding won. He was having his photograph taken, with the proud owner “up” when there came a swirl of the crowd towards the stewards’ dressing-weighing shed, and a heated Maori on the grey gelding, which had run second, urged his nag towards the shed door with a cry of “protest” on his lips.

Someone stuck a tattered and faded flag up over the lintel of the door. “What’s the blue flag for?” asked a spectator on the outskirts of the now jocularly excited crowd.

“Blue,” scoffed the man nearest to him. “It’s green. There’s a protest.”

A Maori of proportions which a Frenchman would describe as “embonpoint”, leisurely thrust his huge bulk through the mass of pakeha spectators who were storming the shed in their desire to hear the fun. “where are the stewards?” he said. From several points of the compass coatless Maoris, figuring in the required capacity on the programme, edged their way into the shed of many uses.

“Run it again, no race,” yelled the mob deliriously.

Out on the green, stamping a profusion of penny-royal beneath his feet, and thereby filling the adjacent air with the pungent smell of peppermint, a Maori backer of the bay mare waxed wrath. “Wha’ for?” he gesticulated.

“No race, I tell you. I go for the police. The mouth came like that – wide open.” And he proceeded to give an imitation with his hands of the open mouth of a horse.

Whilst the stewards were in the shed deliberating over the protest, a pakeha official (self-constituted, unless the race-card lied) was measuring the grey that had come in second. A length of timber, with a rough cross piece nailed on at a pony’s lawful height, was requisitioned. The grey passed comfortably beneath it, amidst cheers from the onlookers.

Then the winner was wanted. He had disappeared. Not a whinny betrayed his hiding place. Fast sped the moments, but he could not be found. The scribe was beginning to wonder if it could be possible, as was hinted in some quarters, that the owner did not want the brown measured. Of a sudden an exultant yell arose. “Here he is!” and someone dived into a clump of willows, and dragged forth the missing quadruped. Was it a horse or a pony? The all-important question took a lot of settling. Eventually the man with the stick declared that it failed by three or four inches to pass under the crossbar. The news was broken to the stewards, who were about to decide that the protest must be upheld, when the owner of the horse that had been declared not to be a pony appealed to the secretary, nearly coming to blows with an angry member of the crowd whose money was on the grey. The secretary, assuming supreme powers, and over-riding those of the stewards, seized the measuring stick. The people surged round him, and the brown gelding sent them scattering with uplifted hoofs. He seemed to dread that measuring-stick. He would not stand still. Ultimately the sagacious animal espied a ditch. He promptly stood in the bottom of it – stood there like a lamb. The timber measure was placed on the ground. It rested on the bank of the ditch, as the gelding has designed that it should. The crossbar showed inches above his back. “He’s pony all right,” decided the secretary, flinging the stick down, and the gelding was seen to furtively wink at his owner as the latter led him away. In the shout that went up were mingled execrations. One man said something reflecting on the secretary. But the secretary – he who had so firmly carried out his work, and with such supreme contempt for all other authority – said nothing. It was not his fault if the brown gelding did stand in a ditch. It merely proved that a horse’s sagacity is equal even to making out that he is a pony.

THE DISAPPEARING JOCKEY

The running of the Orakei Cup of 9 sovs was another feature of the meeting that was not without interest. Hard-hearted people declared that it was a “schlenter”, whatever that may mean. They said that the horse that was leading most of the way was not meant to win, and that the horse in second position for the greater part of the distance was. As it turned out, a Maori horse, which, cruel report had it, was blocked all the way, got home first, and there was great glee amongst the natives in consequence.

Just before the three horses entered the straight the jockey of the leader, who was running strongly, disappeared. When he limped painfully into the open space where the crowd was, a little later, with sand in his hair and a woebegone expression, he was heartily jeered.

“Booh,” remarked a Maori in his ear, with infinite scorn, “you jump off the horse. Wha’ for?”

The poor jockey, with a “not understood” expression, wildly resented the aspersion, but the spectators showed a similar spirit to that of the Maori accuser, though they were good-natured enough about it. The fact that the rider “left” his saddle in a nice, soft, sandy place was beyond doubt true, but how the poor young man must have suffered to hear someone say that he had rubbed the sand into his head and gone voluntarily lame!

The element of happy-go-lucky haphazard ruled everything. Maori riders cheerfully went “another round” when the spectators urged them to do so. The clerk of the course most agreeably furnished reliable tips to all inquiring investors, and so did all the other inhabitants of the village. Wahines strolled around in gaudy greens and resplendent yellows; mongrels chased the racers round the course; children romped, and everybody was in a laughing mood.

The difference between the Orakei races and musical farce-comedy is that in one case there is no music.

NZ Herald, 20.1.1908

Programme advertising a Maori horse racing meeting in Karioi, Waikato, 1 January 1870 Reference Number: 1/1-000855-F Programme advertising a Maori horse racing in Karioi (Whaingaroa/Raglan region) January 1, 1870.Alexander Turnbull Library.

The end of 1908. though, seems to have been the end of this part of Auckland's horse racing history.

A MAORI RACE MEETING 

LUDICROUS INCIDENTS AT ORAKEI. 

[From Our Correspondent.] 

AUCKLAND, December 26. 

For some time past there had been portentous signs of trouble for the Maori Christmas Day races at Orakei. Mysterious and contrary advertisements had assured bewildered race goers that the race meeting would and would not take place. Intending patrons were definitely told that an eighteen-penny fare would admit them to the course and in the next advertisement they were informed that if they set foot on the course on Christmas Day they would be prosecuted as trespassers. An interesting account of the sequel is given in the Herald report of the races.

When the racegoers went to catch the ferry steamer to Orakei they were confronted by a remarkable notice, which conveyed the information that the course had been ploughed up, by whom it was not stated. Notwithstanding this depressing manifesto large numbers went out anticipating some fun. They were not altogether disappointed. The course had been ploughed up right enough. The situation was earnestly discussed by many Maori but nobody seemed to be able to indicate the perpetrator of the fell deed but the Maoris who had gathered together for horse racing were not going to be stopped by a trifle like the want of a course. Some ingenious brown individual pointed out that the stretch of beach would do as a makeshift, and the joyful news that races were to be held was spread abroad and the first race was started.

There were horses of sorts from the twelve hand pony to the seventeen hand horse that would have looked more at home in a spring cart. There were also a few good ones in the motley lot. They went up under the cliff to start, about twenty-five of them, but they were thinned out. Three bolted off and had a race of their own. Several dashed into the sea, two darted across a field and were seen no more. Then a vicious little pony scratched at least three for all engagements with hind hoofs, in making room for himself. One horse started to browse so greedily that his rider could not get his head up and was left at the post. They started, or some of them did. The field swept along in gallant style, some in the water and some out of it. A desperate finish ensued. As the ti-tree winning-post was neared, the tumultuous mob cheered madly, the struggle was terrific, but blood told. A dashing little animal, pakeha rider up, finishing gamely under punishment, just got his nose in front of the hope of the Maoris, a long raking bay beast ridden by a barefooted Maori boy.

"No race"' It was the voice of a Maori judge who sat still and impassive in all the excitement, sheltered from the rain by a huge umbrella. There was a furious outburst of wrath from the pakeha rider.

“No race be damned! This is a bit tough. Why, I won the race fair enough."

“They didn't all start," said the judge.

“Well, the starter gave to the word to go and we came away. Why, some of them are messing about there, I ain’t to blame for that, am I?” The judge declined to argue the question further. He called up the starter, who had paced along with the field, probably to see that they raced fair, and in a dignified tone demanded an explanation. The starter gave a loquacious account of affairs that apparently satisfied the judge, and he ordered the race to be run again. He also showed his supreme authority by limiting the number of the field.

“Six of them no more," was his brief mandate to the starter.

There were more races, including an event which was dignified with the title of the Orakei Cup, but one Maori horse race is very like another, and the pakeha spectators who had gone out from curiosity began to drift back to the wharf for the ferry boat.

Christchurch Star 28.12.1908

Around 1914, the sewer line was installed along the shore of Okahu Bay. Native Land Court judgements and government legislation began the breakup of the Maori-owned lands at Orakei, and the days of the "anything goes" races were gone forever.

If the one-time Maori race meetings were still being held at Orakei it might be worth while keeping some of the horses who raced at Ellerslie in training.

NZ Truth 15.6.1918 

Detail from NZ Map 7013, 1920s, from Sir George Grey Special Collections, Auckland Libraries

Researching the NZ history of magic

I've received an email from Bernard Reid, currently engaged on a quite magical line of research.

I have been a professional magician for the last 50 years working mainly overseas and I became particularly interested in the history of magic in New Zealand. For 20+ years I have been working on a comprehensive history on this art. 

Preceding the introduction of motion pictures in New Zealand in 1898, the most popular forms of commercial entertainment were Minstrel Shows and Magicians. It may be surprising, but between the founding of New Zealand in 1840 and 1904, there were 88 internationally recognized magicians and illusionists who toured the country. All of these I have documented in detail but the brick wall I have hit is tracking down ephemera. I am well known among the magicians of New Zealand and so have had access to many private collections. I have haunted the libraries of N. Z. from the  Hocken Library in Dunedin to the Turnbull Library in Wellington to the Auckland Library and War Memorial Museum Library and have not unearthed one poster or handbill from the 19th century

During the 19th century the preferred method of advertising shows was by means of posters, handbills and town criers. Posters and handbills were date sensitive and hence were printed on the cheapest quality of paper which may account for the reason that none have survived. The best source of material so far has been the Will Alma collection in the State Library of Victoria in Melbourne. 

My plea is this: I desperately need copies of photos and/or ephemera of magicians from the 19th century including any photographs that may include posters or publicity of magicians of the era. I also need copies of photos of interiors or exteriors of theatres of the era. 

Any assistance you can give would be sincerely appreciated and, of course, acknowledged. 

Contact: bernardlreid@gmail.com

Small box at Hurstmere Road

These Hurstmere Road Takapuna photos were taken and very kindly sent through by my friends Bill and Barbara Ellis. Thanks, folks!