The difference in the term

The term being -- "election".

Mayor of Auckland City John Banks, at the launch of the Sir George Grey Exhibition last night, quipped about the whole Super City thing we're going through now. It is well-known how he  really, really wants the job of Auckland's first Super-Mayor come 1 November.

He mentioned in his speech how the first Mayor of Auckland, Philip A Philips, "appointed himself" as mayor of the new Municipal Corporation of Auckland (our city) in 1871, and that his successor, Henry Isaacs, did likewise.

Well ...

Philips was actually already chairman of the City Board from 1867, the year the Municipal Corporations Act came into effect. The entire Board, under the Act, was constituted as incorporated, and Philips was indeed elected as the first Mayor -- by the new councillors. This practice was common in the mid 19th century here, chairman of committees and boards rarely running for office apart from the office of acctually sitting on the committees. Positions such as chairmanships and mayoralties were sorted from within the ranks of the winners.

 From here:

... it was a lucky day for Auckland when the old Board gave place to the Auckland City Council, which came into existence in 1871. The fact that the Borough was proclaimed under the Municipal Corporations Act of 1867 shows that little time was lost in securing for Auckland the advantages vouchsafed by that statute. The credit for this promptness fairly belongs to Mr. P. A. Philips, then chairman of the City Board, and afterwards longer and better known as town clerk of Auckland. Through his initiative Auckland was constituted a borough under “The Municipal Corporations Act, 1867,” on the 24th of April, 1871, and at a meeting of the City Board of Commissioners, held on the morning of Monday, the 22nd of May, Mr. Philips read the proclamation in the General Government Gazette, and declared the City Board duly incorporated as the Municipal Council. The members of this board, who thus became the first City Councillors of Auckland, under the new constitution, were:—Messrs Atkin, Asher, Bugden, George, Hampton, Macready, Staines, Smart, and Tonks. These members, at the same meeting, elected Mr. Philips as the first mayor of Auckland under the new Municipal Corporations Act. After holding the position for three years in succession, Mr. Philips declined further re-election to the mayoralty, and accepted the more permanent, though less prominent, office of Town Clerk.

What about Mayor No. 2, Henry Isaacs?

In 1874, Philips stepped down as Mayor to take up the office of Town Clerk (not often you see a local politician actually stepping down to a lesser position voluntarily!) Once again, the matter of who was to be Mayor foer the rest of the term rested with the elected officials -- and they chose Henry Isaacs (Southern Cross, 4 July 1874), a mayor just until 1875. There's a handy list of Auckland's Mayors at the City Archives site.

So, Mayor John Banks' implied quip -- wouldn't it be good if he could just appoint himself as Super-Mayor rather than do all the usual election circus stuff -- doesn't really hold much water historically. 

There ya go, history being the wet blanket on another political speech anecdote, yet again ...

Shades of Grey exhibition at Auckland City Library

I'm very grateful to Auckland City Libraries for inviting me along to their launch shindig tonight for their new Shades of Grey exhibition, at the Sir George Grey Special Collections. Take a look at that link -- and at their new Sir George Grey Collection website.

During the speeches, we were told that one book in the collection, the Rossdhu Book of Hours, was on loan at Luss in Scotland for the 1500th anniversary celebrations of the introduction of Christianity to Scotland. Quite a feather in the cap for my favourite library. It will return to Auckland in November.

MOTAT Sunday: I am the Last Tram exhibition

Main reason I headed out to MOTAT at Western Springs yesterday was to view the "I am the Last Tram" exhibition. A combination of trams and Auckland social history should be, I reckoned, quite interesting.

Took a while to find the exhibition, though. It ended up being in the middle of one of the exhibition halls, with entry through to it via another exhibition on the 1930s-1940s. Which was where this poster came from (apologies for the blurred shot). An interesting way to tell the middle-of-the-day shoppers to leave the rush-hour tram traffic to the workers. Rush-hour these days, though, starts at 3pm, with a busload of school pupils almost all yelling at each other at the top of their lungs. That "sweet and kind" lady would have even more incentive to head home smartly these days, with that commotion ...

Again, from the 1930s-1940s exhibition -- an iron lung, built at Auckland Hospital workshops, designed by the hospital's chief engineer Fred Jacobs, following a polio outbreak in the mid 1930s. The interpretive sign along with it says it may be the oldest surviving iron lung in New Zealand.

Some info on rationing was displayed here as well.

Then, I turned a corner, and -- ah ha!

A small space for the exhibition, I thought. Almost along the lines of the Auckland War Memorial Museum's "Centennial Street".

More views of the last tram to run in Auckland in the 1950s.

The exhibition aims to give folks a feel for the 1950s, when suburbia was just starting to pre-dominate (so they said), and when the motor car replaced the dear old trams. They had a selection of facades of noted Auckland central city buildings, along with a small display of what went on inside in each one. Nice job with the facades, quite impressively done. This one is the NZ Herald offices.

Example of an old newspaper printing press.

Smith and Caughey's, harking back to the Lippincott design.

This display window is quite close to the ones the store still has today.

What the best dressed 1950s manequin was wearing then.

This corner shop in the exhibition has an "open" sign in the window (it should have been open), but it wasn't, not yesterday. Notb enough customers through the exhibit, so the folks at the admittance office at the front of MOTAT told me. There's supposed to be souvenirs of the exhibit on sale in there. Well, no -- just DVDs of general tram stuff and the like. I'd have liked to have had a brochure on the exhibit, with the signage info, to take away, but ...

Some interesting stuff in the windows, though.

Non-PC golliwogs! And one flashing her knickers to all and sundry! (You may guess that I had a bit of an Enid Blyton nostalgia moment at this point. Not about the knickers, though -- I'm sure Enid wasn't like that.)

This is how folks satisfied that choclate craving out in the street in those days. The vending machine, though, came from the 1930s, not the '50s.

What intrigued me about this window was the Harbour Bridge toll tickets sign. The Last Tram (1956) would never have passed these (1959) by in reality.

Fun with digicams. A shot with the flash on ...

A shot with no flash.

The display inside even had something of the gorgeous Indian decorations of the real; movie palace in midtown Auckland, the Mighty Civic.

Plus, an early projector.

Somewhere along the "street" -- a post box that looks a darned sight more solid than the ones we have today. Not sure about more secure, though. Padlock might not have taken a crim long to handle, and the slugs would have had a lovely time ...

I turned another corner -- and suddenly I'm not in the exhibition anymore. Mind you, this 1909 photo of a Labour Day float by the Auckland Bootmaker's Union caught my eye.

So, that was the exhibition. I'm not exactly disappointed -- main things are that I wish I had something to take away as a souvenir booklet or some such, and that the exhibit was a bit larger. It's obvious, though, that as usual a lot of hard work went into the preparation. Well worth a look around.

MOTAT Mural

Tucked along the side of one of the exhibition halls at MOTAT, this rather good mural of NZ icons and elements of our post-1840 heritage. See how many of the references you can spot. Click to enlarge the images.

Avondale RSA Memorial Garden

I finally got a chance the other day to photograph the Avondale Primary School World War I memorial plaque, in its new home at the Avondale RSA Memorial Garden. I was a bit concerned, however, to see that the marble plaque has been broken over time.

I'm fairly sure that during its period of residing in the old window of the shop which was redeveloped to be part of the RSA's complex, that the plaque was not cracked. I'm certain when I saw it first installed in its new home, that it was still intact. If I find another photo fromm earlier to compare, I'll post it up. Possibly heat and sun caused the damage. The plaque was probably not meant to be displayed behind glass out in the open.

Below, I've reproduced my earlier post on the plaque, from 25 April 2009.

This year marks the 90th anniversary of when the soldiers returned from World War I.

AVONDALE SOLDIERS WELCOMED HOME.

The returned soldiers of Avondale township received a heart welcome home at the local town hall on Friday evening, the function being arranged by the Avondale Women’s Patriotic League. Dancing was indulged in until midnight. During intervals Miss Merson and Mr. Spencer contributed vocal solos, and Mr. McDermott recited, all items being highly appreciated.

Mr. C. J. Parr, M.P., was present, and on behalf of the ladies warmly welcomed the soldiers home again after their strenuous work in the battlefields.

Mr. H. Walker briefly responded on behalf of the guests, expressing their thanks for the way the ladies had looked after them while they were away.

MEMORIAL UNVEILED – AVONDALE PUBLIC SCHOOL

A representative gathering of Avondale citizens assembled at the public school on Saturday afternoon to witness the unveiling of a memorial tablet in honour of the 33 old scholars of the school who had made the supreme sacrifice in the war. Among those present were Mrs. Bollard, sen., who had taken take in various school functions for a period of upwards of 50 years in conjunction with her husband, the late Mr. John Bollard; and Mr. J. L. Scott, who a quarter of a century ago was headmaster of the school.

Mr. H. A. V. Bollard, chairman of the School Committee, who presided, expressed the deep sense of gratitude which the townspeople felt to the donor of the tablet, Mr. James Binsted. Other speakers were Messrs. R. B. Nesbitt, chair of the Avondale Road Board, J. L. Scott, J. A. Darrow, headmaster of the school, and H. W. King, a member of the Education Board.

Mrs. Binsted performed the unveiling ceremony while the children sang “Abide With Me.”

The tablet, a slab of marble, suitable mounted on polished rimu, has been erected at the entrance to the main porch, alongside the brass memorial to the late Mr. Bollard.

(NZ Herald, 22 December 1919)

I went to Avondale Primary School, 1968-1974. During the demolition of the old school buildings, the marble plaque was removed, and reappeared in a window display in the old dairy on Layard Street, part of the RSA complex by that stage. It was there for two decades before the RSA had their own redevelopment, the recessed doorway and window from the old dairy (where the school children of years long gone by used to get their penny ices on the way home) were removed and replaced with blank wall, and the plaque found a new home outside, beside the artillery piece which forms the RSA's memorial gardens, still on Layard Street. It can be seen there to this day, but loses some of its context outside of the school buildings. It forms the only World War I memorial to the fallen in Avondale.

Below, more images of the memorial garden.

Above, a memorial to James Herbert Gwynne. He wasn't an Avondale man, but a dairy farmer from Mt Albert, son of George and Helen Gwynne of Highland Road, according to Cenotaph.  I wonder why his stone was included on the wall. He died on the Somme, 4 April 1918.

Otahuhu Murals: Criterion Hotel

From the September edition of the Otahuhu Despatch from the Otahuhu Historical Society:

This month we walk down the Great South Road to the corner of Criterion Street to find a mural of the Criterion Hotel. The photograph was taken in 1948 on the day of the centennial parade in Otahuhu. The gentleman leaning on the fence to the right is Jonas Underwood, father of Mary Crighton.

The Criterion Hotel was one of three hotels built in Otahuhu in the late 1840s to serve the Fencibles. The Commercial Hotel was destroyed by fire in 1866 and the Star Hotel is still in business today albeit under another name.

The Criterion Hotel was demolished in 1994 to make way for the development of Criterion Square and a complex that now includes a BNZ bank. A McDonald’s fast food restaurant occupies part of the old hotel carpark. A flagpole on the corner of Great South Road and Criterion Street is reputedly from the original Paine Brothers’ building in Otahuhu. At the base of the flagpole is a milepost plaque that was originally set in the old hotel wall to commemorate a series of mileposts erected along the Great South Road. This has become the subject of much debate as the plaque is not in the spot where the milepost once stood about 10 metres further north along the Great South Road.

More on Henry James Bell of the Whau

I love receiving emails from those whose family history research leads them to come upon Timespanner, and share a bit of information on their ancestors. Such is the case today regarding Henry James Bell, of the Bell & Gemmell tannery at the Whau during the 1870s-1880s.

Previous posts: here, here, and a reference here.

Hi Lisa,

I have been researching my family and have just stumbled across a post you wrote on Sunday October 26th 2008. I knew my great great grandfather Henry James Bell had worked in a leather tannery in Whau Creek and I had also been told by family that they owned their own tannery there too. So it seems it could be them you are talking about. This is what I know about him and his family. There was a history of curriers, leatherworkers and shoemakers in the Bell family going back several generations in London and earlier in Lincoln, England to at least the late 1700s.

Henry James was born in London to James (a currier) & Elizabeth Bell in 1845. He trained as a currier and emigrated to NZ probably in January 1867 on the ship "Maori". He married a Sarah Ann Absolum in Parnell in 1872 and settled in Whau Creek. His parents emigrated to NZ later (probably on the 'Fernglen" in 1880 and I understand his father also worked with him in the tannery although James having been born in 1814 he would have been around 65 by this stage. Henry and Sarah had 5 sons and 3 daughters between 1873 and 1887. My uncle talked about them drying hides in later years around Panmure basin so whether they worked there at some stage I dont know. Eventually Henry and Sarah, James & Elizabeth and probably some of their now grown children moved to Mangapiko near Pirongia (Alexandra) and farmed in the area. One of the sons owned a general store there with his father in law. I'm not sure why they went farming. Possibly it was to follow one of their sons to the area. James & Elizabeth are buried at Pirongia where they both died in 1901. Henry returned to Avondale after his wife Sarah died in 1905 and married again but was eventually buried with Sarah in Pirongia when he died in 1915. As far as I know nobody in the family continued in the leather industry. Henry painted many oil paintings of landscapes and country scenes in the 1870s (rather English looking) and they are scattered around his many descendants. I hope this may be of some interest to you.

Kind Regards

Nicola Bell

A further email tonight from Nicola:

I dont know the exact date that Henry moved down to Mangapiko so maybe by then he was retired and his children were the only ones farming. I dont know. And like I said the way I worded my email made it sound like they worked at Panmure later but I'm not 100% sure on that later so it could have been earlier ...And one more point (but its not really relevant to the tannery side of things but may be of interest to any Absolums out there), Henry's wife Sarah wa the daughter of William Absolum who was a whaler who arrived in Auckland around 1848 but later farmed at Otahuhu. And her mother was Catherine Leslie who came out on the Ship "Ann" with her parents to Auckland from Northern Ireland. Her father was William Leslie one of the fencible soldiers at Otahuhu.

Wireless chats on the Neophone

My eyes were drawn yesterday to an article in the NZ Herald of 21 November 1931, describing the first business transaction by radio telephone between Auckland and London. We still rave about the marvels of wireless technology today, so it had me wondering about what led to the breakthrough described eagerly by the reporter -- and about the "Neophone" that did the job.

The 1930s neophone (see image at the left, from this page at the NZ Electronic Text Centre site) was the result from both Ericsson and the Western Electric Manufacturing Company (WE) to WE's advances in the "rotary" variety of automatic switching equipment, dating from 1919. Don't know about you, dear reader, but I grew up with rotary dial telephones. As a kiddy, I was taught not to touch the telephone without permission from an adult, and certainly not to answer one without such permission! But I was still taught how to use one, and learned my home phone number by heart in case I was ever lost (although that number has long since changed, it was on a party line and Mum didn't like those, I still know it and can still recite it.) The rotary phone was what we played with at school -- and yes, even in these days of push button advancement, I still term making a call on the phone as "dialling".

I picked up an excellent book recently on the history of New Zealand telecommunications recently called Wire & Wireless by A C Wilson (1994). He provides an explanation (page 119) why New Zealand's emergency number is 111, whereas in dear old Blighty it's 999:

Most of the New Zealand rotary system, incidentally, used a dialling pattern, numbered from 0 to 9, rather than the reverse, as in the UK. That is why we dial '111' here rather than '999', the full turn of the dial being necessary to ensure a definite connection for emergency purposes.

The initial rotary phones were the classic candlestick type, with the mouthpiece and the receiver as separate components -- the "neophone" in the 1930s replaced this type by combining mouthpiece and receiver in the same handset held up to the ear and mouth, the pattern carried through even to today's mobile phones.

So, we had a less clunky method of making and receiving our phone calls available by 1931 -- what about those chats to Aunt Lil back home in London?

International communication by cables laid along the seabed dated from the 19th century, but true wireless technology for international calls had to wait until short-wave radio technology was perfected. The Marconi Wireless Telegraph Company inn the mid 1920s refined the 'beam' system, which meant that instead of radio waves radiating along diffuse, less effective paths, special directional antennae allowed the waves to be beamed along clear paths, with a more effective signal. Competing European radio technology firms were rationalised into larger corporates in thye late 1920s, and one of these was Imperial and International Communications Limited, taking in Marconi and others. The new company's policy was determined by an Imperial Communications Advisory Committee, on which New Zealand was represented.

Short-wave radio's marriage with the telephone system began around 1926, when the first telephone link between Britain and Canada was set up, and continued with:

30 April 1930, establishment of a UK-Australia link;

26 August 1930, Wellington and Sydney linked;

22 September 1930, Wellington to Melbourne;

3 October 1930, Wellington to London.

The Australia-New Zealand link was formally inaugurated on 25 November 1930, by a chat between Sir Apirana Ngata, Minister of Maori Affairs, and the Acting PM of Australia, J E Fenton. 

The official inauguration of the NZ to UK link wasn't fficially until 23 July 1931. The rate, according to Wilson, was ₤6 15s for a three minute call.

And so we come to that Auckland conversation with London, from November 1931.

The modern marvel of the radio telephone made it possible for an executive of an Auckland millinery firm to spend ₤15,000 in just over 10 minutes with a London business house this week. It cost him ₤23 12s 6d to do it. This was the first time the Auckland-London service has been used to transact business from Auckland.

The Auckland man who spoke considered the cost to be justified by the great saving in time and bother. Moreover, it enabled him to gain an impression of the best fashions in vogue in London at the very moment he was speaking and to have any queries answered immediately.

The reception at both ends was astonishingly clear and no difficulty was experienced in hearing every word. The conversation was carried out shortly after midnight on Wednesday morning [18 November] London time, being about midday Tuesday. Conditions were so favourable that listening-in both at Wellington and Sydney in order to note instances of fading if any, did not affect the clarity in the least.

In fact, the voices were as audible as in a local telephone conversation. Instead of first one person speaking continuously for a period and then awaiting the other's reply, as is sometimes necessary, it was possible for short sentences to be exchanged. Static was completely absent. The clarity was also attributed to trhe use of the new improved neophone machine, in which mouthpiece and receiver are attached to the same handpiece.