Domain Stories - 1840s

Hopefully, this is the start of a series of bits and pieces of history of Auckland's Domain, decade by decade, at least to the time of the Auckland Exhibition in 1913-1914. Maybe further if time permits.

The boundaries of the Domain in Auckland, one of our region’s treasures today, were not formally gazetted until 1860. Yet, the Domain existed almost right from the time when the Crown purchased. In the beginning of European use of the area, however, it was primarily swampy, boggy ground, with higher areas where the hospital and museum stand today, but the rest bush-clad, steep gullies through which spring-fed waters ran. All around, choice allotments were marked out and sold in Grafton, Newmarket and Parnell – but the Domain remained, an area of Government waste land, seemingly fit only as pasture.

Click on image for enlargement. Detail Roll 61, early 1840s, LINZ records, crown copyright.

An old and unusual map, Roll 61, possibly dating from sometime before 1845, is the earliest I’ve found which shows the Domain as nearly what it once was in expanse and character. I say the map is unusual, because it shows Mechanics Bay as “Some’s Bay”, likely in honour of Joseph Somes of the New Zealand Company, three lots of land in the Grafton, Parnell and Epsom areas with their named on it, in brief tenure, and a cemetery reserve at Hobson Bay.

By late 1841, the Domain began to appear on the accounts of the early government’s expenditure: the Government Domain Superintendent earned 7/6d per day (this office may have included the site of Government House, up on Albert Park and the present-day University grounds). The office of Ranger, however, at 4/6d per day, may well have been connected directly with affairs of the Domain. (NZ Gazette & Wellington Spectator, 27 October 1841)

The encroachment and alienation of the original Domain ground has long been a matter for debate in Auckland. This source contention stemmed back further than many people think – to the early 1840s, when the Domain was still just barely formed. As at November 1842, Mechanics Bay was still wholly Crown land, unsold and not partitioned. (NZ Gazette and Wellington Spectator, 30 November 1842) By May 1843, this began to change. The reach of the Domain via the swampy confluence to the harbour ended as the Crown began the development of the bay with the establishment of James Robertson’s famed Rope Walk on a strip of land there (advertisement, Southern Cross, 20 may 1843). It took until February 1847 for Robertson to finally obtain Crown Title – before this, he may have leased the site. (DI 1A.730, LINZ records) From that point, the Domain’s expanse began to be nibbled away.

“(To the Editor of the Southern Cross.) Sir, — It has often struck me that there has been great want of regard to the nature of the ground in laying down roads and other bound-tries, particularly tint piece of ground for the Government Domain; certainly a more beautiful patch of ground is not to be found, possessing so many natural advantages ; commanding most delightful views; a fine situation for a Government House, Botanical Gardens, and beautiful walks not to be surpassed; the boundary of this Domain is denned by nature in a very distinct manner by little brooks or streams of water on both sides from the high ground, and terminates in a swamp or low ground at the boundary of the town land ; the distant boundary by high ground, or ridge sloping both ways; the whole forming the shape of a pear, the small end laying nearest the town.

"Can it be conceived that this piece of ground, which ought to have been held sacred, and which would have become the pride of the town, and the boast of the country (New Zealand) if properly planned and laid out? Is it possible to imagine that it has been broken in upon, and the work of destruction fairly commenced by running a fence, I was going to say, in a straight line ending in nearly the centre of it; but it is not a straight line, but one of those lines or characteristic crooks, for which the place is so notorious and famed, as if to shew by mathematical genius, how much of natural beauty at fell sweep he could destroy ?

“It is to be hoped the Governor will arrive soon, so as to put a stop to the work of destruction upon the beauties of nature; it is a saying that idle hands will find time for doing mischief; the question very naturally occurs, what is to be done with this piece of ground so cut out of the Government Domain by the Surveyor General and Superintendent of it?— Shall it be sold, so that it shall fall into the hands of the present officer administering the Government for services performed ?
I am, &c,
A FARMER. December 16, 1843.”

A piece which appeared in the Southern Cross of 2 December 1843 is intriguing. Written in the style of a commentary of a dream (and some satire), it has some details which are worth noting when trying to find out just what the early Domain looked like:

“Having crossed the swamp and entering in the Domain, I now ascended the steep on the opposite side, half way up which there stands a neat verandahed cottage, and still a little higher, a raupo hut lies nestling in the wooded bank, — close by confined within the stock yard, there lowed some cattle impatient with distended udder — a gallant cock called loud on his attendant harem to share some new-found spoil, and the proud turkey, big with self-conceit, majestic sailed along with stiffened neck and ruffled plumage, as he sung his hurble burble song. Delightful spot! how often have I wished that you were mine, then would I wander through your leafy shades and listening to the noisy stream that rushes through your mimic glen, my sad heart would gladden with the melody of Nature's sweetest music. But whose the neat white cottage? and whose the pleasure to enjoy this rapturous spot? Ye Gods forbid it! but 'tis true — before the City's streets could safe be walked along— before the settler with his team could reach his dear-bought farm, these monstrous follies all were reared with public money — for what ? for whom ? An easy sinecure was wanted for some favorite hireling, and the linen of Her Gracious Majesty's Representative must need be pure and white as driven snow; and this Laundry then was built!!! Oh! let us trust such days are now gone by ; and that no longer public weal shall yield to base private ends.

“Continuing my route through the Domain, I struck along the ridge leading to the right, leaving below me on the left the Government Garden; an object generally entertained to be more useful (to the culinary departments of certain favoured individuals) than ornamental to the colony, and soon arrived at a certain suburban allotment which has recently been cut off from the Domain, and surveyed for sale; to suit the grasping views of one man, whose absence to the colony would truly be good company. Having heard some whisperings of the beauty of this allotment, I came for the purpose of inspecting it previous to the day of sale, and found my early walk more than repaid by the pleasure I derived in sauntering over it. It is indeed an enchanting spot; ever-green shrubs luxuriate on its sheltered and beautiful exposure— a noble view to seaward — the whole harbour and adjacent isles — the distant city and its suburbs all lie before it. But enough— the spot I covet as well as he who hopes to get it, (I wish, he may?) but others will oppose, although his fawning sycophants dare not snatch the prize from out his greedy hands.”

Exactly what that verandahed cottage was for at the early stage of 1843 is, at the moment, unknown. It may just have been a writer’s figment. It does seem to correspond in description with another cottage which shows up in photographs of Mechanics Bay from the 1860s, on the site of the old Carlaw Park grandstand. At this point, all I have is conjecture, however.

One mystery which stems from this first decade of the Domain’s existence as a government reserve is that of Te Wherowhero’s house, the first building of significance on the Domain (barring any cottages which may have housed the Domain’s keepers and rangers).

George M. Fowlds in 1959 (“Te Wherowhero and Te Rauparaha: Confusion re sites of house [or houses] in the Auckland Domain”) wrote: “For some time it had been thought that the site of this cottage was where the present tea kiosk now stands, but that would be doubtful as from 1869 the springs were used as the city’s first water supply.” He mentions that Schofield’s National Biography 1940 refers to the cottage being at Pukekawa, the name applied to Domain Hill/Observatory Hill, the site of the Auckland War Memorial Museum, but contends that Schofield may have meant Puke-karoa, “a famous pa site” behind the site of the Fernery. Fowlds himself felt that the cottage “stood in a small clearing in the Domain, half way up on the left hand side from Stanley Street to the Domain pools.” In 1936/1937, Fowlds claimed to have found part of the brick base of a chimney there, and donated a couple of the bricks to the old Colonist’s Museum.

Image detail from SO 13, c.1860, LINZ records, crown copyright.

I think Fowlds, of all the theorists, was the most correct. Trouble is, the site itself is now out of the reach of any archaeological research – as near as I can determine by comparing the 1860s map with today’s layout, the former site of Te Wherowhero’s house lies today somewhere beneath the foundations for buildings on the Auckland Hospital site, namely the Te Whetu Tawera Acute Mental Health unit (building 35) and the Sexual Health Unit building (building 16). This was one of the last parts of the Domain transferred over to hospital purposes, in 1947 (SO 34617, LINZ records), alongside the site of the hospital T.B. shelters, and the former City Morgue. It’s likely that the house had been removed from the Domain at some point during the 1860s, however. Little trace, if any, may have remained when the hospital authorities increased their grounds.

Te Wherowhero’s house was built by the Crown in 1845. (Nelson Examiner, 8 August 1845) Immediately, it sparked criticism from settlers and newspaper editors. When Te Rauparaha had been seized by British troops at Porirua in 1846 and brought to Auckland in September 1847, the local Maori tribes gathered at Te Wherowhero’s lodge on the Domain to listen to Te Rauparaha recount his deeds. (Encyclopedia of NZ, 1966; New Zealander 15 September 1847). The last written reference I’ve found to the house was from 1850, when Te Kate, Te Wherowhero’s brother, died there (New Zealander, 28 August 1850). Then, aside from the 1860 plan of the Domain and its bounds, the house disappears into history – possibly soon after Te Wherowhero’s death that year.

Regarding early Domain staff: we know that there were “superintendents” for the Government Domain right back to 1841, but James Lochead is the earliest documented name found, so far, and therefore the earliest named member of staff. He features in the Domain’s story in public notices he inserted as Domain Keeper in 1845, his job mainly to keep the herds of stock under control – as well as their owners. He wasn’t the keeper for long, however. By 1850, he was in charge as publican of the Union Hotel, and by 1852 he had died.

The second building of note on the Domain was the first Auckland Hospital. Initially, the intentions of Government were to erect a Maori hospital (perhaps tied in with Te Wherowhero’s residence, and taking into account the nearby Orakei settlement). Then, the Government enlarged the project, aiming to supply healthcare for poor and destitute Europeans, and free healthcare to Maori, combined in one institution. (This comes from David Scott’s The Story of Auckland Hospital, 1847-1977.) Tenders were called in October 1846, once the Governor gave a hospital reserve from out of the Domain to the cause, and the building was finished in 1847.

The story of the Auckland Hospitals on that site is large enough to warrant its own study. Suffice to say that from 1846 when the original reservation of land was made, right through to 1947 which is the latest gazette notice of land reservation for hospital purposes I have to hand at the moment, the hospital complex appears to have been the greatest cause of Domain land alienation from the original layout of the park. It was also, by the 1890s onward, one of the most controversial in terms of debate as to that alienation. More later on that.

Back on 12 January 1844, Andrew Sinclair, the Colonial Secretary, gazetted that “His Excellency the Governor directs it to be Notified, that the Ground hitherto known as the Domain, will be called Auckland Park, and will be opened to the Public, who are requested to assist in preserving the Wood thereupon, and preventing injury to such Public Works as may from time to time be effected there.”

The eastern Government Domain (as opposed to the western one where Government House was situated, today’s Auckland University grounds and Albert Park) was officially known, therefore, as Auckland Park from 1844. The name would linger on until at least 1860 (the plan from that time is headed up “Auckland Park”) but then, the name “the Domain”, “Government Domain” or “Auckland Domain” reasserted itself in official documents. To the Auckland residents, perhaps, they’d always known the park as Domain, anyway.

As the 1840s drew to a close, hopes were high that the Governor would actually use the Domain for what it was supposed had been its original purpose – the site of Government House, perhaps on Domain Hill, the highest point in the whole park, with stunning views of Auckland and the Waitemata Harbour.

More on Surafend, December 1918

A longer NZ Herald article today with more detail on what took place at the massacre in Surafend, Palestine in 1918.

End of the Baroona (1904-2009)

Image from Waihekepedia.

One of Auckland's landmarks, both on water and on land, is now no more. They demolished the last remnant of the old ship, the Baroona, late in July. She had quite a career, in her many guises.

According to author Jim Hansen in his booklet The Saga of the Baroona (2006), the Baroona was built in Newcastle, NSW in 1904 from hardwood with kauri topsides. Her name was an Aboriginal word meaning "place far away". Work on the Sydney fish trade ended with her sale in December 1905 to the Wairoa Shipping Company of the Kaipara, and she provided a service from Dargaville to Helensville from early 1906. Her new owners were wound up in 1907 and the assets, including the Baroona were transferred to the Kaipara Steamship Company where she remained until 1912.

1915 saw her conversion to a trawler by Sandfords, now working in the Hauraki Gulf. She was laid up in 1928, then sold to George Niccol in 1933. Niccol transformed her into a two-deck ferry, and she entered the service to Motuihe Island and Ostend and Surfdale on Waiheke Island in 1934.

In 1965, after some more changes in ownership, she was sold to North Shore Ferries. Laid up at Devonport and altered at various times, the Baroona re-entered service in 1982. Her retirement loomed, however, and in 1989, she was sold to the Baroona Co-operative Trust. After this, she was leased out to Jolly Roger Restaurant Limited, which intended converting her to being a floating pirate-themed restaurant. However, after being moored in different places around the harbour, she sank in December 1994.

The Baroona ended her long career at the site on Great South Road where, in 2005, the restaurant opened on the altered ship. The restaurant closed by 2007, however, and everyone's dreams have now come to an end.

Update 24 August 2009: Images of the Baroona here, courtesy Bill & Barbara Ellis.

Chinese Digital Community website

A very good addition to the online collection of New Zealand history websites: the Chinese Digital Community. More information is being added as time goes on -- I'm very honoured to say that there's a link to Timespanner on the site as well. Thank you very much.

List to date of Auckland Chinese history posts on the blog here:

The Ah Chee family on Rosebank

Wakefield Street.

W. T. Murray versus the Chinese growers

Yan Kew / Ah Kew of Auckland

Early Chinese immigrants to Auckland

The Auckland "Chinese Markets" controversy

A mural soon to be no more in Kingsland

This is a bad news / good news kind of story. I came across it quite by chance, while looking at the recent agenda and minutes for the July meeting of the Eden-Albert Community Board. The words "mural", "Kingsland Station", and "decommissioning" sprang out at me. I investigated.

A long mural decorating a wall at the Kingsland train station, fronting Sandringham Road, was painted by Daniel Tippett and unveiled in October 2006. The wall, however, is part of Ontrack's rail facility there, leased to the Auckland Regional Transport Authority -- and with plans for the 2010 Rugby World Cup at Eden Park proceeding, the train station is to be altered from the end of this year. This means, the mural will have to go.

There's no way of removing and resiting the mural, which is painted on the wall itself. Where it is today, is scheduled to be covered by a concrete block wall. That's the bad news -- a really beautiful mural will be gone from the end of this year.

However, here's the good news. According to the item report on the Board's agenda, a new mural by Daniel Tippett is in the final stages of commission by the Board, at the rear of the Sauvarins Building which backs onto Kingsland Station. Plus, Auckland City Council officers have suggested a replacement mural could be commissioned for the new wall, if the council decide to pursue that option.

I'm pleased that some suggestions for replacement have been put forward, even if nothing further happens regarding the new wall. The mural, as it is today, is truly gorgeous.

2009 "Big Night In" fundraising from Waiheke Island

Another uncommon departure from things remotely historical, but for a very good cause. A great friend of mine has put up a page as part of the fundraising campaign in the upcoming "Big Night In" in August, for the Kids Can Stand Tall Charitable Trust.

WIKD (Waiheke Island Kindly Donates)

Click the link, have a look, there's a donation link at the bottom of the page (donations from overseas are apparently handled as well). And if you can, pass the link along to your contacts. Your help, dear readers, would be very much appreciated, cheers.

More New Lynn control box art

A milk delivery cart, outside the local KFC. From the corner of Veronica Street and Great North Road.

Heritage down a set of stairs

Behind the modernity of the Onehunga Community Centre and Library complex, there is a bit of local heritage which, while I can't say it goes unappreciated by the locals where it is, I think it should have perhaps a better site. Head through the entry doors, turn right, then left to go down the stairs towards the entry doors leading to the carpark on the western side of the buolding -- and you'll find some of Onehunga's past.

Hung on the block wall, descending/ascending as you do on the stairs, are the following gems. Each image is on ceramic tiles designed and made by Thomas Barter, 2005 (according to some of the captions).

"A car cross the Mangere Bridge towards Mangere Mountain, 1913."

"The Carnegie Free Library, 1912."

"Looking up Queen Street, 1909-1910."
(Queen Street in Onehunga is known today as Onehunga Mall.)

"Making Kits for the Visitors at King Tawhiao's Tangi, 1894." Photo by Enos Pegler.

"Mrs. Harriet Beswick and her six children outside a cottage at 40 Galway Street, 1860."

"St. Peters Church (situated at the corner of Queen and Church Street), 1860s."

"Roman Catholic Church of the Assumption (Onehunga)."

"Bacon Pigs unloaded from the wharf cross Queen Street in front of the Manukau Hotel, 1908".
(Actually, I'd always heard this was a shot of the pigs which had broken loose and decided to do some free ranging at the hotel grounds ...)

"The Onehunga Wharf with Mangere Mountain. Loading supplies on the scow for the garrison at Slippery Creek (Drury)."

"Te Toki a Tapiri, docked at Mechanic's Bay, 1860s." Original image by John Kinder.

The caption goes on to read:

"Carvers of the Rongowhakaata iwi in Wairoa completed Te Tolki a Tapiri in 1836. The waka later passed to Nga Puhi and then to Ngati Te Ata. During the New Zealand Wars, General Cameron ordered the destruction of all waka, and Te Toki a Tapiri survived a bomb blast to the hull during the campaigns. The waka was so badly damaged by the end of the war that the government paid Ngati Te Ata £600 in compensation.

"Te Toki a Tapiri featured in the 1869 Auckland Regatta when the Duke of Edinburgh visited Auckland. At the conclusion of the race, Paora Tuhaere of Orakei cared for the waka until 1885 when it was presented to the Auckland Museum where it is currently on display."

Update 5 November 2011: As I'm finding out now, while researching Te Toki a Tapiri -- the regatta was in April 1868, not 1869. More on this soon.

Another member of the endangered species

A detail from a traffic control box that I photographed (while inadvertently walking in a construction area) at the corner of Park Road and Carleton Gore in Grafton, just opposite Outhwaite Park and the Auckland Domain. Why inadvertently? I got off at a bus stop across the road by Outhwaite Park, to head cross-country towards the museum a couple of weeks ago. I noticed that the old service station on the corner was undergoing either a doing-up or a doing-down/demolition, but because I was concentrating on what I wanted to look up at the museum library, I wasn't paying really close attention to the fact that contractors are doing up the corners of that intersection right now. I was about to cross over Park Road to correct the mistake -- when I spotted the box.

The paintwork was already chipped when I spotted it, and knowing that this intersection was being upgraded just as they done at Avondale -- probably, the next time I see this control box, it will be that same, plain greeny-grey paint all over it. If it's still there at all, that is.

On the topic of folks beautifying street boxes, Phil Hanson sent through a snippet from the Western Leader of 23 July about Mark Whyte of Glen Eden painting a power generator box out there, near Waikumete Cemetery. There's an earlier photo of him working here. He terms his work "a public mural that enhances the visual environment."

I agree with him wholeheartedly. I must see about heading up there to take a photo of it.

Massacre at Surafend, 1918

A bit of history that neither New Zealand nor Australia can be proud of -- the 1918 massacre of Palestinian villagers at Surafend. The NZ Herald have come out today with an article on a book published on the episode.

I also found a messageboard thread here. Wiki includes it here (but NZ gets the blame, as at time of reading).

The senior citizen militiaman

1857, and Auckland was preparing in case there was trouble (which, in six years' time, indeed there was) by calling up the able-bodied to serve on citizens militia. This included 61 year old, near-sighted Benjamin Turner, who expressed his surprise in a letter to the Southern Cross.

To the Editor of the Southern Cross.

Sir, — You will excuse me asking advice, through your columns, how I should act in getting my discharge (with a good pension) from No. 4 Company of the New Zealand Militia. Yesterday evening, as I was lying on my sofa, groaning with pain, and thinking more about the next world than war, to my surprise I was served with a notice dated January 31, 1857, to inform me that my name was placed on the Militia roll of No. 4 Company by the Magistrates. I am sure they must be new chums of Magistrates, who don't know me, nor yet the duty of a soldier, to place a feeble, worn-out old man, turned 61 years of age, to be a soldier.

I am very near-sighted, and obliged to wear spectacles, which would be very dangerous if I should get shot in the eyes, — as the glass might blind my comrades. I am rather hard of hearing; I have only one hand that is of much use to me; and worse than all, bad teeth to nip the cartridges; and, if I was ordered by my officer to "bolt," it would be impossible for me to run, as it is a trouble for me to walk.

It is not because I am a coward (which I never was in my life) that I do not wish to be a soldier, nor because I have any dislike to the officers belonging to my said Company No. 4: quite different to that— I have so high an opinion of those gentlemen that I have no fear of their leading me into any danger against the enemy; and to make myself further secure, I will do all I can to stick close to their backs.

But now, Mr. Editor, if I am forced to be a soldier, and am posted opposite the Pound at Newmarket, I should very much like, along with my brother comrades, to get up a petition to his "soul of honour" the Superintendent, to have a blockhouse built at Newmarket, so that we could bolt into it when informed the enemy was coming, and let them pass on to Auckland, to No. 1 Company; and we will be ready for them, if there is no danger, when they come back.

Your Humble Servant (if required,)
Benj. E. Turner.
Newmarket, 24th March, 1857.

Sheep's trotters! Oh, no, not the sheep's trotters!!

From one of a number of articles over the course of the 19th century which served to illuminate for the comfortable middle-class of Auckland what fate befell those inhabitants of the city's slum areas (in this case, the area around Chancery Street) -- comes this piece of rather curious piece of journalism.

"I have only told a very little of what I had to tell. It may be I will yet tell more. In the meantime, after seeing what I did see in my night's adventure, let me earnestly request the readers of this most respectable journal not on any account; not for a fortune; not for any inducement which can be held out to them : not for the love of anything, or the hate of anything — to eat SHEEP'S TROTTERS.

"Don't ask me why ; don't ask me any questions concerning them ; but for the love of everything beautiful in this world, and for the hate and detestation of all that is vile and ugly, I implore — I beseech— l entreat— no one in this city of Auckland to buy or eat sheep's trotters.

"Some day I may breathe my reasons to the world. But not just now — not just now, on any consideration."

(Southern Cross, 19 August 1872)

Posterity is left to wonder what the heck that was all about.

The Southern Cross four years later published a handy recipe for sheep's trotters, so apparently all must have been forgiven between the paper and Auckland's ovines.

"Sheep's Trotters — Clean, scald and skin four trotters, boil them in salted water until the large bone can be easily removed. Next put them in a saucepan with fresh water and salt, and let them boil away till quite tender and glutinous ; pour off the water, leaving just enough to make the sauce, add a piece of butter rolled in flour, a dozen button mushrooms sliced, and some white pepper, then stir in the yolks of two or three eggs beaten up with the juice of half a lemon, and strained. Let the whole simmer away gently until wanted, but on no account boil."

(Southern Cross, 9 September 1876)

Pt Chevalier Times No. 6

Link to the latest newsletter for the Pt Chevalier History Group.

The U.S. Consuls before Connolly

After finishing the post on American Consul to New Zealand John D’Arcy Connolly, I wondered what was the story behind his predecessors to the office here in this country. Just about the only one I could have named off the top of my head would have been Captain James Reddy Clendon, back in the early 1840s.

As it turned out, and it usually does – there’s much, much more to the topic.

Captain Clendon was the first diplomatic representative for the United States here. Indeed, he was the second foreign representative of any nation here, after James Busby (for the British Empire). On 12 October 1838, the U.S. State Department appointed him as the United States consul at the Bay of Islands. Two years earlier, ten American shipmasters had petitioned their government to provide a representative in order that something could be done about the disorderliness of that country’s whaling crews. Bearing in mind that New Zealand wasn’t a country as such back then, the choice of a resident British merchant who had dealings with both the whalers and local Maori probably wasn’t thought to be a silly one at the time. It did prove somewhat embarrassing later when, in 1840, Clendon was apparently not only involved to some (still debatable) extent with the preparing of the Treaty of Waitangi, he was a signed witness to the document which established British rule in New Zealand, thus potentially acting against the wishes of the nation paying his salary and providing him with the flag flown over his place of business. To Washington, after all, Britain was a trading rival when it came to the whaling and sealing industries, and then there was the matter of trade with China and around the Pacific Rim to consider. A British New Zealand government would also soon impose regulations on foreign shipping – that of the United States included. To add salt to the wound, Clendon went on, still as a U.S. Consul, to accept office as a Justice of the Peace from the new colonial government, and served as a member of the first Legislative Council under Hobson.

Washington found out a year after the Treaty was signed exactly what Clendon had been up to, and on 20 April 1841 the Acting Secretary of State Fletcher Webster reprimanded Clendon and directed him to resign his commission forthwith (I imagine via a memo which began to make its long journey back down towards New Zealand. It crossed with a final despatch dated six days before that from Clendon saying that he was resigning.)

At this point, it’s worth mentioning a point raised by author Marie King in her book on the history of Russell in the Bay of Islands: all sorts of titles were used for America’s consular representatives here. There were Acting Consuls, Vice-Consuls, Acting Vice-Consuls, Consular Agents and Commercial Agents, as well as the fairly straight forward title of Consul. Clendon himself was more a Commercial Agent than a full consul, because there was nobody here with international recognition to accept his papers of commission on behalf of a home government back in 1838.

Clendon’s successor was, briefly, Captain William Mayhew. He originally hailed from Martha’s Vineyard in the United States, and had established a business at Te Wahapu to cater for the American whaling fleets. The regulations in the wake of British annexation of the country helped to kill off Mayhew’s business. He apparently wasn’t impressed to learn, as well, that Clendon really hadn't done all that much as a consular official for the benefit of Americans in the colony.

John Brown Williams, from Salem, Massachusetts, who had served as consul in New South Wales from around 1839, took over in the Bay of Islands as Consular Agent from 10 March 1842, promoted to Consul the following year. He left the colony in March 1844, and Mayhew was once again in charge – except that he, also, had left, and another American, Henry Green Smith was now the acting Vice-Consul.

Smith, according to Marie King, was more than a shade on the anti-British side when it came to international relations. He had no hesitation, apparently, in telling local Maori all about the heroics of George Washington and a certain War of Independence in the previous century against the British Empire. Smith presented an American flag to Hone Heke who “tied it to the sternpost of his war canoe and refused to remove it.” (King, p. 181) Historian Claudia Orange in her book on the Treaty of Waitangi wrote: “It was probably no accident that Heke’s first attack on the flagstaff had been made soon after American Independence Day …The United States consuls at the Bay of Islands had been regarded as agitators by officials … American nationals may well have promised Heke more support in his stand than the United States government itself would have given.”

Williams returned to the colony in September 1845, but by December he had set himself up in the safer town of Auckland, so until 1848 there was the odd situation of the consulate officially based at the Bay of Islands, while the consul resided and ran a store at Auckland. He next headed to Fiji to be the American consul there, and died in the islands in 1860.

Marie King noted that a Charles B Waetford was given a recess appointment as consul in 1849, but in the end didn’t qualify. James Busby seems to have stepped in as vice-consul. In Auckland, Thomas Lewis was vice-consul in 1852, and James Burtt followed him in 1853. The Governor of New Zealand recognised George B West as United States Consul in February 1858. According to Marie King, West suggested that Auckland become the consulate site, until he had a good think about it, and realised that “Auckland, at present, cannot become a resort for whalers, mainly on account of the numerous inducements for seamen to desert.” He died from consumption in May 1859, aged just 34, and was buried at Russell.

Another gap, filled by Busby again, then George Henry Leavenworth was appointed as consul in 1860. He seems to have kept his head down, during that period which coincided with the American Civil War, and resigned in 1865, replaced for a time by someone named Merrill as acting-Consul. During Leavenworth’s time, a consular agent named Henry Driver was appointed at Dunedin in 1862, while another was set up at Wellington later (Daniel McIntyre, 1868). Marie King lists a Frenchman named Vilcoq as Leavenworth’s replacement (a commercial agent who suffered a mental breakdown), and a Herman Leib (who was commissioned in April 1866 but declined the appointment in July.)

Captain W G Wright (commissioned December 1866) reached Dunedin in August 1867 and the Bay of Islands two months later. In December 1869, he officially commissioned David Boosie Cruickshank as his "attorney and consular agent in Auckland" (this after the Colonial Secretary had gazetted in September that year that Cruickshank was not authorised to act as a consular agent. Indeed, he wasn’t authorised by the U.S. State Department, either.) Wright retired in 1870, succeeded by a native of Cork, Ireland, but naturalised American citizen, James G White. It was during his term that the consulate finally made its official move away from the Bay of Islands, after White submitted a despatch to Washington in March 1870 pleading the case (one main reason being the gum and flax trade from Auckland) and a large list Auckland businessmen petitioned the Colonial Secretary thus:

“We are informed by Mr. J. M. Dargaville that he has been appointed Consular Agent here, subsidiary to the Consul at the Bay of Islands, for the United States, vice D B Cruickshank, both gentlemen being British, subjects, and consequently disqualified for the more important office of Consul. In view of the relations now existing between the colony and the United States in the matter of the postal contract, and the probable commercial interests arising there from, we think the American Government should be asked to appoint a Consul at Auckland, and we respectfully beg you will agree with us and ask them to do so.

We may mention that there will be no difficulty in finding a suitable person, as we have an American citizen, Mr. Harlan Page Barber, of the firm of Rolph, Sterry, and Co., New Zealand, gum and flax merchants, New York, resident amongst us.”

(Southern Cross, 17 April 1871)

Joseph McMullen Dargaville saw that a nice little earner as consular agent in Auckland was about to slip from his grasp. He wrote to the Colonial Secretary himself, telling the Government that those who had signed the petition were misinformed, and they thought they’d be disadvantaged by the consulate being in the Bay of Islands, with only a consular agent (himself) at Auckland. Of course, Dargaville reassured the Chamber of Commerce, this wasn’t true at all.

“ … it was signed by most of those whose names are to it under the impression that a Consular Agent could not perform all such necessary acts in connection with commercial matters — consular certificates to invoice shipping, &c. — within his consulate as a Consul could perform, and that therefore business documents in Auckland requiring such certificates must be referred to the Consular office at the Bay of Islands to be completed. This mistake arose probably from the fact that the gentleman who acted here on behalf of the United States Commercial Agent at the Bay of Islands, previously to my appointment, was not legally authorised by the Department of State in Washington, and was therefore incapacitated for exercising all the functions properly pertaining to the office of Consular Agent. Since the memorial referred to has been despatched to you, several gentlemen, his Honor the Superintendent amongst others, have been considerate enough to explain to me the misapprehension under which they signed it, stating that they had done so without acquainting themselves with the real state of the case; which had they known, they would not have signed it. I have now in my possession a written document to the above effect, signed by several of the memorialists."

(Southern Cross, 21 April 1870)

White, himself, was the topic of gossip as to why Dargaville was appointed. White assured readers of the Southern Cross (1 May 1871) that, as “the United States Consular Act of August 18, 1856, provides for the appointment of a Consul or Commercial Agent for the colony of New Zealand, and fixes the Consulate at the Bay of Islands, where it has remained up to the present time,” he was empowered “to appoint a Consular Agent at any port or place within said district (New Zealand) when he deemed the interests of his countrymen would be subserved by the establishment of an agency, subject to the approbation and confirmation of the President of the United States and the Department of State. Upon the appointment of the undersigned as" United States' Commercial Agent- for New Zealand, there were but two Consular Agencies regularly established in this district, to wit, Dunedin and Mangonui. Believing that the interest of his countrymen would be subserved by the establishment of a Consular Agency at Auckland, he recommended such course to his Government, and, nominated Mr. Dargaville for the position. This nomination was duly approved and confirmed by the President and the Department of State. It was several weeks after the arrival of the undersigned at his post before any action was taken by him in the premises, several applications having been made to him in the meantime for the position, all the applicants, however, were British subjects, and from amongst them he selected the gentleman whose appointment has been the subject of so much newspaper gossip.”

Despite Dargaville’s campaigning, the consulate did indeed leave the Bay of Islands and set up in Harlan Page Barber’s Fort Street store from 3 October 1871. White wrote a private letter to Dargaville commending him for his service up to that date as consular agent. This, Dargaville published in the public notices of both the NZ Herald and the Southern Cross, to White’s chagrin: it appears that White was only being polite and cordial to a man he had effectively removed from a source of income. He published his own adjustment to the private letter, also in the public notices of both papers: “… upon examination of the unfinished business in Mr. Dargaville’s hands this day, he discovered that he was mistaken in endorsing the manner in which that gentleman had discharged some of the duties of his Agency.”

Dargaville angrily wrote to the papers in response, accusing White of just being sour because he owed Dargaville’s firm money and was about to be adjudged a bankrupt. White denied emphatically that this was the reason for his turnaround in opinion: Dargaville, he said, was slow in relinquishing the consulate seal and papers, and refused to part with the former without payment of £2 10s (which he claimed was how much he had to pay Cruickshank in turn). Then Dargaville tried to have White’s commission as consul annulled due to the bankruptcy proceedings in December 1871 – but White countered this by producing evidence of his discharge to the State Department early in 1872. Finally, after months of wrangling, Dargaville’s resignation as American Consular Agent was officially gazetted in May 1872. (Southern Cross, 2 May 1872)

Harlan Page Barber (c.1847-1914) was the United States Consul and commercial agent in Auckland, White’s successor, from August 1872. He was described by White as “a gentleman of good character and standing in this place.” (NZ Herald, 9 October 1971, in an account of the centenary of the Auckland office). American-born Barber was a representative of the firm Rolfe, Sterry & Co, gum merchants. During his period as consul, he became involved as co-respondent in a divorce case at the Supreme Court in early 1874 between William Carpenter and Harriet Eliza Innis Carpenter, with Barber accused of having “intimate relations” with Mrs. Carpenter and even fathering a child out of wedlock (he was still unmarried at the time). His reputation, however, remained unbesmirched. After his time as consul, he appears to have successfully continued his mercantile career as an importer of walnuts and pecan nuts, exporter of gum and flax, and held shares in a number of goldmining companies. He died in 1914, without obituary, and is buried at St Stephen’s Cemetery in Parnell.

Briefly, in 1879, Barber’s successor seems to have been a gentleman named G W Griffith (apparently, a former consul in Copenhagen), before Alexander Hamilton Shipley was appointed later that year. (There's an announcement for a function in the Observer of 3 August 1883 which indicates that Griffith was still Consul at that stage, however. ) Shipley's Vice-Consul was Thomas Tallman Gamble (c.1833-1886), born in New York (although local papers here assumed he came from Morristown, New Jersey). “He took part in the American Civil War, serving in the Federal cavalry in several engagements, and at the close of the war had attained the rank of major.” (NZ Herald, 30 April 1886) Gamble arrived in Auckland in November 1880, taking over the agency of the Pacific Mail Company. He returned to America, then came back here as Vice-Consul, in Shipley’s stead. (In 1883, going by the above Observer notice, he was acting-Consul for Germany as well). He died without warning in his office on 29 April 1886, from apoplexy, and was buried in St Mark’s cemetery in Remuera. His exact gravesite is unmarked today; in 1966 the church authorities at St Marks applied to have all but a few of the notable gravestones removed to turn the cemetery into lawn. Those few headstones that remain are beside one of the cemetery’s walls.

Gamble’s sudden death left the consulate without representation, until Captain Francis Ropes Webb stepped in as acting Consul until the appointment of John Tyler Campbell in January 1887. Campbell was the man promoted to a post in China, leaving the position open for John D’Arcy Connolly in 1889.

A footnote – why we say “American Embassy” today and not “United States Embassy”:

“Mr Hay, Secretary of State, has ordered that the inscriptions "United States Embassy" and "United States Consulate " shall no longer appear on the Embassy and Consular seals, and that all new record books and seals must bear the words "American Embassy" and "American Consulate". Mr Hay likes the dignity and simplicity of the term "American," and, moreover, there are several United States besides those of America and this, he says, leads to a good deal of confusion in foreign countries.”

(Feilding Star, 18 November 1904)

Additional to the post: Terry Foenander, who runs a terrific site on the American Civil War, has advised that Thomas T Gamble's name was given as Tallman on his pension documents. I got the "Tallinus" in my original post version from the online BDM register. I might see what the library's microfiche tell me later today. (I did, and the handwritten death index for 1886 has "Thomas Tallman Gamble". Thanks for setting me straight, Terry.) It's now corrected. There's an entry about his gravesite, also done by Terry Foenander, here. (I found he's buried in site No. 140 -- but his headstone was not one of those retained by the church authorities, according to a list compiled by Gwen Reiher, Beryl Pook and Jack Bray in 1985, "St Marks Church: Churchyard Tombstone Inscriptions".)

Sources:

“The First United States Consul in New Zealand”, Louis Wasserman, The Pacific Historical Review, Vol. 18, No. 3 (Aug. 1949), pp. 363-368, available via www.jstor.org

“Consulate Started With Row”, Elsdon Craig, NZ Herald 9 October 1971

A Most Noble Anchorage: A Story of Russell & the Bay of Islands, Marie King, 1992

The Treaty of Waitangi, Claudia Orange, 1987

NZ Gazettes, NZ Herald, Southern Cross, New Zealander, Auckland Star, Australian Newspapers online, via National Library of Australia

Gun emplacements at Te Atatu

A link to a post, "The guns of Te Atatu" from Reading the Maps. Includes some great photos.

I've seen them earlier this year, before the flash new sign was put up, and was shown the site by Ben Copedo. They impressed me then -- I'd like to head back in warmer weather to take another look.

The first giraffe in New Zealand

Image from Otago Witness, 20 January 1909.

The logistics of conveying exotic wild animals to places where money could be made by displaying them in the 19th century were both expensive and extremely difficult. While New Zealanders saw their first elephant on these shores in 1870-1871, it took nearly another 40 years before a firm of circus entrepreneurs achieved the feat of bringing the first giraffe here. The entrepreneurs were the Wirth Brothers, and the giraffe was one aged nearly three years old and purchased for £1000 from Karl Hagenbeck's Hamburg Zoo. The NZ press simply referred to it as "the £1000 giraffe", but it appears to have been named "Commonwealth" in Australia by a Mr. R. A. Price in May, 1908. (Adelaide Advertiser, 4 May 1908)

Commonwealth the giraffe arrived in New Zealand early in 1909, having already become the focus of attention due to the Wirths' canny advertising. The sheer logistics of transporting the animal fascinated as much as the oddity of the animal itself.

"The giraffe imported by Messrs. Wirth Bros, at a cost of over £1000 requires the careful and undivided attention of an attendant, who is always with it, even to occupying the same truck in the course of its transportation by rail. When the animal is carried on the railway it is placed in a telescopic cage in order to allow of its safe conveyance under bridges. The attendant lowers the roof of the adjustable cage, which reduces the height and compels the tall creature to bend its neck, so that the cage may pass under bridges and through tunnels in complete safety. The giraffe is the tallest animal in the world, and the specimen in question measures 15ft from hoof to head, and it is absolutely dumb. Careful attention must be given to its diet, which consists of porridge and milk, raw onions, salt, phosphates, oats, hay, and chaff. It is given six meals a day. Its natural method of feeding is high up, and when it picks up anything from the ground it is compelled to spread its front legs to enable it to get down."

(Evening Post, 30 January 1909)

Evening Post, 23 February 1909

The menagerie and circus, with giraffe, toured around New Zealand, reaching Auckland by late March 1909. Then, the circus packed up, boarded the steamer Marama, and headed back to Australia. Two animals, however, never made it back alive.

"The death of the giraffe on the Marama on the night preceding her arrival at Sydney was the subject of very general regret on the part of the passengers (says an exchange). It appears from the statement made as to the cause of the loss by one of Wirth Bros' managers that the animal was affected by the motion of the steamer, and seemed decidedly unhappy. It was standing up at the time and being unable to keep its feet fell down and sprawled about its cage. It could not recover itself, and, as Messrs Wirth's man expressed himself, "it was a timorous and nerveless animal, and after a minute's struggling it simply broke its heart." '

"This is an unlucky trip for us," he subsequently remarked, '"as the Polar bear died, on the first night out from Auckland, and we had to throw him overboard. The giraffe cost us £1000 so, you can see we are having a bad time of it." The giraffe was taken onto Sydney and will be stuffed and sent to Melbourne where it will be placed in Wirth's museum of animals that have died."

(Taranaki Herald, 14 April 1909)

So ended the life of the first giraffe to be seen in this country.

A JOURNALISTIC SCARE ON THE PACIFIC OCEAN.
Journalist Henry Brett (on board Sydney boat, waking up suddenly at remark from steward):
What's that, man? My pet "Graphic" dead?
Steward: No, sir; Wirth's Giraffe's dead.

Observer, 10 April 1909

The Prince's Elephant

In 1870, Prince Alfred, Duke of Edinburgh and son of Queen Victoria, paid a visit on board his ship the Galatea to India and Sri Lanka. While there, he engaged in one of his favorite pastimes -- shooting elephants. The reigning head of Nepal at the time, Sir Jung Bahadoor, gave him what was probably, therefore, an appropriate gift: a young, four-year-old elephant.

"The young elephant that was presented by Sir Jung Bahadoor to the Duke of Edinburgh has not been allowed to lead an idle life on board the Galatea. His services were utilised at Galle [Sri Lanka] for the purpose of hauling in some 300 tons of coal, which would otherwise have employed upwards of thirty men. He rather objected to the occupation at first, but a little coaxing and quiet treatment soon reconciled him to his fate, and he cheerfully went through his task to the great delight of the Jack Tars."

(The Hull Packet and East Riding Times, England, 24 June 1870)

Continuing on his journeys, the Prince stopped off at Auckland for the second and final time in his life. His previous visit, in 1867, had been a resounding success. This time, the visit was supposed to be more low-key, as it wasn't so much a state visit by a member of the Royal Family as it was just a ship of the Royal Navy calling into port. I'd say his elephant took a lot of the weight of publicity from his shoulders. By this time, the elphant was referred to as coming from Ceylon, rather than Nepal.

"H.M. ship Galatea arrived in harbour yesterday morning, having on board H.R.H the Duke of Edinburgh. On his former visit he came as a member of the .Royal family, but this time he simply comes as a captain in the British navy …

Amongst the stock on board the Galatea, is a live elephant, which, although not fully grown, is yet from six to seven feet in height. During the lengthened stay in this port, we understand that it is intended to land the elephant, and quarter him for some time in the Albert Barracks."

(Southern Cross, 9 December 1870)

"The Auckland correspondent of the Lyttelton Times writes as follows: —

"Tom," the Duke's four-year-old Ceylon elephant and his inseparable companion a tortoise, were conveyed to Albert Barrack Grounds on the 9th. These grounds being well grassed, and enclosed by a substantial stone wall, may be looked upon as forming a small park of about 50 acres. Tom is of a reddish-brown colour, and wears silver rings in his huge flapping ears. He is large for such a mere baby in years, and is of a most gentle, playful disposition. As he is the first of his species that ever visited New Zealand, I have to note his peculiar idiosyncrasies.

In the first place, he is not a teetotaller, for on the way to his present quarters he stopped at a public-house and took a hearty draught of colonial beer with much apparent satisfaction. Later in the day, he indulged in alcoholic stimulants, of which, a temperance advocate might say, he was by far too fond. He likes buns, but does not despise plain bread and butter, and his infantine instincts are displayed by a decided penchant for lollies, with which, and every variety of comestibles, he is liberally supplied by a crowd of juvenile admirers.

He is ridden Mahout fashion by a handsome young servant of the Duke, at whose orders he kneels down for the rider to ascend or get off his neck, performs on his trumpet, and makes fair attempts to master such interjections as ha ! ho ! he! The youngsters take advantage of his good nature sometimes. For instance, not content with hanging on to his tail, feeling his feet and trunk, and taking similar harmless liberties, a crowd of young ragamuffins on the day of his arrival wanted to get on his back, where Tom is not wont to be ridden. Two had mounted the dangerous elevation, upon which others commenced hooting and twisting the poor brute's tail. This was adding insult to injury, and shows how true it is that " familiarity breeds contempt."

For a time, Tom peered round appealingly to his puny tormentors, but getting no redress, and being as is thought a little tipsy, he suddenly blew his trumpet, threw his riders, and rushed after his enemies, who fled in all directions, appalled by the unusual, and to them dreadful sounds. Scattered through the barrack grounds were a number of ladies and gentlemen, who, like the youngsters, quickly absconded. One boy ran between the great stone barrack buildings, and emerged, as he thought, safe. He met Tom face to face in a narrow passage, who overthrow him by a stroke of his trunk. Another boy he pushed over, whilst two urchins who were with him crawled under a wooden building. Tom thought to extract them from their retreat by feeling for them under the house with his trunk. Failing to get them, he bid defiance to all and sundry, by " casting dirt " on the crowd. Fortunately, the arrival of his keeper immediately restored peace, and it was touching to see how poor Tom ran to his friend and embraced him with his strange projection; five minutes later, the children were playing with him the same as before. He has taught them a lesson, however, which is likely to have good results.

Strange to say, no one was even slightly injured, from which I inferred that Tom really had no desire to hurt his foes, otherwise, a stamp or two with his hoofs might have sufficed to crush any one of them to a jelly. On the same night, he broke out of his strong lodgings twice. The first time, he made for some clothes hanging to dry, and which belonged to some of his shipmates of the Galatea. A strong mutual attachment exists between the sailors and Tom, whose aid in hauling on ropes is said to be equivalent to that of twenty men. It seemed hardly fair of him to "rend their garments," but they don't mind it a bit, and say, " It's only Tom's fun."

The second time he got out he went to the residence of a General Government official, and tried to open the door with his trunk, but not succeeding, kept sentry on the verandah all night. The tortoise is a beautifully marked specimen of his genus, and chiefly serves as a pedestal for children to stand upon all day. For that matter, he appears willing enough to fulfill the office of a pedestal in one particular spot for ever. There are several other living curiosities on board the Galatea, amongst them an ethereal looking Chinese boy, and a minute, jet black, negro sailor. They generally run in couples."

(Christchurch Star, 23 December 1870)

"About 6 o'clock yesterday evening the Duke of Edinburgh's elephant was ridden down the Barrack Hill, and past the Mechanics' Institute, into Queen-street, by a marine. The distinguished stranger was accompanied by a numerous concourse of children, who thronged about him, and displayed the very liveliest interest in his movements. Some of the more forward colonial youths ventured to stroke the animal's ponderous legs or to pull his tail, and many of them walked in dangerous proximity to his feet. The tractability of the creature was very remarkable, in the midst of the noisy gesticulating crowd of children. When the driver got into Queen-street, he proceeded along the footpath as far as the Exchange Hotel. Here, however, the elephant was confronted by two of Mr. Branigan's constables, who seemed about to take him into custody, but happily an understanding was come to, the elephant thenceforth proceeding along the roadway. Had the driver been summoned for a breach of the Municipal Police Act, the charge would certainly have been a novel one. Driving an elephant on the footpath is a kind of offence which is not likely to come before our local Bench; indeed, we doubt very much whether such an offence is provided against under the Municipal Police Act. The elephant afterwards went up Edwards-street, and on into Symonds-street. In the former an enthusiastic Maori woman purchased a loaf of bread, which the elephant disposed of as a delicate morsel. A man, apparently under the impression that the animal was thirsty, brought a pint of beer, which the elephant, to the scandal of teetotallers, appeared to "suck up" with the taste of a confirmed toper. A great many other interesting incidents occurred on the way, which was like a triumphal march."

(Southern Cross, 13 December 1870)

"We have a letter from "The Elephant", in answer to the charges made against him and his driver of becoming a nuisance. He contends "that he cannot be answerable for the safety of all who clamber on to his back; and, if people or children cannot hold on, they had much better keep off. He regrets that the other night, from this cause, a little boy was injured, by half-a-dozen men 'slithering' off at his tail on to the little boy. This accident did not arise from having partaken of too much beer, as he is limited to one quart a day. He is always anxious to amuse the children, and feels pleasure in carrying them on his back about the streets."

(Southern Cross, 15 December 1870)

Even when it came to the serious business of governing the Province -- if an elephant was happening to go by at the time, all proceedings ceased for a time in the Provincial Council, as the members scampered like the children they once were to see this strange marvel.

"At this stage of the proceedings some confusion was observable in the Council, hon. members rushing to the windows, and Dr. Nicholson was heard to move that the Speaker leave the chair in order to allow hon. members an opportunity of seeing the elephant, which, it appears was passing at the time."

(Southern Cross, 16 December 1870)

"The Galatea arrived on the 8th, at daylight, whilst yet this city lay buried in profound repose … At 8 a.m., the Galatea band played " God save the Queen," as St. George's red cross unfolded its snowy field to the morning breeze. At nine the Duke of Edinburgh landed, and proceeded to Government House, where he remained until 11 a.m., when he returned to his ship. The remainder of the day, until sunset, was occupied on board the Galatea with getting down royal and topgallant masts, yards, and rigging; the Blanche, at the same time getting up hers, in accordance with orders brought by the Duke for her to proceed forty-eight hours later for Hobart Town. After dark, the Galatea crew amused themselves with singing, loud enough to be heard at a great distance.

Next morning, Tom, the Duke's Ceylon elephant, and a fine tortoise, Tom's chum, were taken to the grassy walled-in space at Albert Barracks, where they will remain during their owner's visit ; there is good feed there since the late rains, and plenty of water, and the place is secure and well- adapted for Tom's recreation. Tom is large, for a four-year elephant, and is the first of his species that has paid a visit to New Zealand. He is so gentle that ladies and children constantly ride him; of the latter I have seen eight at once on his back — he kneels for his riders to mount, and lifts his near fore foot as a step to descend by. He permits juveniles to play with his tail, feet, and trunk ad libitum, as long as they take no unfair advantage; he is very popular, and, I suppose, has visited most parts of the town and its suburbs during his daily rambles; He is partial to buns, biscuits, and jam, and is anything but a teetotaler-— last Sunday he visited various public houses and drank four gallons of beer, besides a respectable modicum of spirits (for an elephant). I never see him without a small crowd of admirers, and sometime their name is " legion." He never has to go far for food, for he is exceedingly well patronised by high and low ; his great ears are adorned with silver rings, and he peers out of his little eyes with a most benevolent expression at his visitors.

It is very amusing to watch the way he cuts his grass, using his trunk as a hand and his foot for a scythe. Like some great men we know, he has no objection "to blow his own trumpet," but, unlike them, he almost always waits until he is desired to do so. I think he can do nearly everything but talk, and in fact he does speak a little, that is to say he has quite mastered such interjections as "Ha!" "Oh!" "Eh?" The sailors idolise him, for he plays with them like an immense kitten, and is ever ready to lend a trunk when it is needful to give a "long pull, a strong pull, and a pull altogether "; but he got angry once since his arrival at Albert Barracks— and not without reasonable excuse. The fact is that the juvenile raggamuffins of Auckland was offering him stones when he looked for bread, not content with which, his young tormentors must needs twist his tail according to the approved mode in vogue for making sulky cows " bail up "; they even pelted the popular idol. He, mild beast, uncomplainingly endured unmerited ignominy and prosecution until fairly wearied. At last he declared war by blowing his trumpet and rushing at his enemies, who fled in dire dismay at the terrific sounds and fierce aspect of the whilom tenant of the jungle — such a screaming and scampering all ways at once. By slight blows of Tom's trunk, two of his foes were immediately stretched supine on mother earth, [an]other two crept for safety under a house, but like crabs went backwards in still further when Tom's trunk appeared with a view of pulling them out.

Fortunately, no one was even slightly injured, and it has been thought that he had no actual desire to do mischief; at any rate, his wrath, real or pretended, vanished the moment his friend the keeper put in an appearance; five minutes after, the elephant was playing with the youngsters the same as ever. "

(Hawke's Bay Herald, 23 December 1870)

"Anyone who visited the Domain on Monday, and witnessed such a large gathering of children from the Auckland Sunday-schools, ! would have come to the conclusion that all i of them had turned out on one occasion j but, as was abundantly proved yesterday, this was not the case …

The presence of the Prince's elephant was again an immense source of enjoyment by the juveniles. Its keeper did all he could to gratify the aspirations of such as desired a "lift” (to the intense delight of not a few) now and then the good-tempered animal would, in obedience to a certain sign, raise itself on its hindlegs, and down would slide half-a-dozen boys— just when they least expected it. Its "salaams" before departing were performed in as polite a way as the elephant knew how ; and it is needless to say that so great a favourite was not forgotten when the eatables were unpacked."

(Southern Cross, 4 January 1871)

On 16 January, the Galatea left Auckland, and headed back to England.

"Tom the elephant, came to the Galatea's port gangway and bade us farewell in a series of grand salaams. He was answered with loud and reiterated cheers."

(Christchurch Star , 30 January 1871)

Once in England, and on the way to his new home at Regent's Park Zoo, tragedy struck.

"The elephant presented to the Duke of Edinburgh in India, and brought home by His Royal Highness in the Galatea, was being conveyed to London last Friday night by the mail train from Plymouth, when it attempted to get out of the horse-box in which it was placed. Its keeper, a corporal of the Royal Marines, while endeavouring to prevent it’s doing so, was knelt upon by the animal and crushed to death …

His Royal Highness, who expressed great regret at the accident to the keeper of his elephant on Friday, directed that the train should be detained a short time at Newton, to give him time to enquire into the circumstances of the accident. The Duke had just bought the deceased, formerly Corporal Paton, of the Royal Marine Artillery, out of the service so that he might remain keeper of the elephant. An official from the Zoological Gardens, Regent’s-Park, arrived at Plymouth on Friday, accompanied by a keeper from that establishment, to assist in conveying the animal to the Gardens. The official did not at first intend to travel with the elephant, but noticing before the train started that the animal appeared restless, stationed himself in the horse van along with the two keepers. The deceased, from his previous knowledge of the elephant in cases of its being conveyed by railway, also remarked that he should have trouble with it for the first twenty miles. The survivors in the van went on with the elephant, which was to proceed from the Gardens to Sandringham."

(The Era (London, England), Sunday, June 4, 1871)

By June 1872, the elephant's home was across another sea, this time in Dublin's Zoo at Phoenix Park, where he was recorded as giving rides to children.

I don't know, at this stage, what finally became of Tom, the second ever elephant seen in New Zealand.

Update 31 January 2011: Liz found Tom, known in Dublin Zoo as "Prince Tommy".

"Tom was known as Prince Tommy he died in 1882.  According the stuff on the Elephant Data Base Tom spent his last years in confinement. His skeleton is now at Trinity College Zoological Museum."

Thanks, Liz. If the early reports were accurate as to his age, he was only 16 years old when he died.

Update 9 November 2012: Initially, I had thought that Tom was the first elephant in New Zealand -- but he had been pre-dated by at least one other, a female Asiatic elephant which arrived in Otago from Hobart in 1868. Liz found this one, and told me tonight.

Performing Elephant.
The public were admitted on Saturday afternoon to view the elephant advertised under the above title, which is now on view at Hurst's Stables, Liverpool-street. The animal is little if it all short of the height of eight feet ascribed to it by its owner, and is evidently quite docile and obedient to the orders given to it. In addition to its interest as a living specimen of the remarkable class in natural history to which it belongs, it possesses, according to the statement of its keeper, the additional attraction of having been, though in a subordinate capacity, an actor in the great Indian mutiny. According to his verbal description it was employed by some of the rebellious sopoys as a boast of burthen, that whilst serving as such it was struck by two musket balls, and that it was subsequently captured by the British troops. In corroboration of this statement he points out two marks on the animal's hide, which present all the appearances of having had their origin in the manner described. Beyond displays of its distinctive natural characteristics in the use of the proboscis as a means of conveying food to the mouth, and brushing flies off its skin with a cloth, both of which actions were per- formed spontaneously, the elephant was not called upon to exhibit any of its peculiar powers; and of the extent to which its intelligence has been cultivated artificially visitors have consequently not yet an opportunity of forming any opinion.

Hobart Mercury 4 November 1867

An elephant has also been a show during the week it goes through the usual menagerie tricks pretty fairly. The animal was imported from Hobart Town in the brigantine Swordfish.

Grey River Argus 7 March 1868

It seems that, whatever her identity, the elephant was reduced to being a sideshow-style attraction for pubgoers. Even then -- she may not have been a successful attraction

GREAT BARGAIN. For Sale, Cheap, the Female Elephant now exhibited at the Hibernian Hotel, George-street. Apply to the proprietor, at the Hotel.

Otago Daily Times 16 March 1868

WANTED TO SELL, Cheap, Elephant, with waggon, before leaving for Christchurch. Apply Smith's Stables, Maclaggan-street.

Otago Daily Times 25 March 1868

And then, she met her death, by poisoning. A death reported from Otago to Auckland as the telegraph keys clacked and word spread from port to port.

An Elephant Killed at the Waitaki.— On Sunday the 21st instant, an elephant which was travelling overland with its keeper from Oamaru to Timaru was killed at the Waitaki very suddenly by eating tutu. From what we can learn the elephant had been exhibited in the Otago province, and the owner arrived with it at the Waitaki about mid-day, intending to cross the river the same evening. For some reason the man was unable to cross the elephant, and had therefore to turn it loose. Soon after being turned out it eat [sic] heartily of tutu and died in less than three hours.

Timaru Herald 29 April 1868 

So -- alive, this likely first ever elephant here created hardly a ripple. Dead, she became a two to three month long sensation. Then forgotten, until Tom the elephant arrived.