There have been 42 New Zealand Prime Ministers and a great number have names we would remember.
Seddon, Muldoon, Vogel, Grey, Stout, Ward, Savage, Holyoake and Kirk would all be names that most of us could call to mind.
But there are a few whose names mean nothing to us even though they led the country and there are a bunch of odd stats to go with it.
There were no political parties before 1890 and before 1899 they were called the Premier rather than Prime Minister.
Nine have served more than one term, the youngest was Edward Stafford and the oldest was Watker Nash who was 78 when he left office.
Richard Seddon was the longest serving prime minister and the shortest was Henry Sewell with 14 days (although Harry Atkinson had seven days although in fairness he was really considered acting prime minister.)
The first New Zealand-born Prime Minister was Sir Francis Henry Dillon Bell in 1925.
One would be hard pressed to remember the name of Daniel Pollen who first got a government position in 1952 and rose through the ranks.
He was born in Ringsend, Dublin on June 2, 1813 to his dockmaster father Hugh and wife Elizabeth.
He claimed to have a doctor’s degree although where it came from no one knew. He travelled first to New South Wales then came to Auckland by 1840.
Pollen was a witness to the signing of the Treaty of Waitangi and established himself as a doctor and coroner in Auckland.
In May 1846 he married Jane Henderson and they moved to Kawau Island.
In 1861 after dabbling in politics he was appointed to the Legislative Council (our Parliament now) where he served, on and off for several years.
He also held four positions – Receiver of Land Revenue, Commissioner of Confiscated Lands, Commissioner under the Native Land Act of 1870, and Immigration Officer.
When Juluis Vogel’s government recalled him to the Legislative Council in 1873 and he held several roles before becoming Premier in 1875 where he served for nearly a year.
Pollen was considered a cultured, genial, outspoken and vigorous man. He worked for the enfranchisement of women, a champion of Maori and was known to have a biting sarcasm.
He died on May 18, 1896 and is buried in the George Maxwell Memorial Cemetery in
Avondale, Auckland.​

We take some things for granted now - like vaccines, medical help and advice and treatment.
But it was not unusual for past newspapers to report deaths from things now that are readily treatable.
Twenty year old George Seymour had been herding stock at Mangawai using a whip in October 1872. He flicked the whip out and managed to catch himself just over his left eye.
A hardy chap, he did not think much about it.
But more than 10 days later, not only had it not healed, but he was now unwell. Feeling increasingly sick, he finally sought medical help days after the little incident.
But by the time he saw the doctor, it was too late, his jaw had set firm and he was confirmed to have tetanus. He died a day or so later.
A death by tetanus was a horrible way to die, with often the associated muscle spasms wracking the body, sometimes with enough strength to break bones, troubling swallowing, fever, headaches and breathing issues.
Often called lockjaw, it’s a bacterial infection usually from infection through an open wound.
At one point the treatment recommended before the vaccine was to apply chloroform.
The first passive vaccine was not introduced until 1890 and it wasn’t until 1938 that an effective vaccine was available - tested widely during World War Two.
These days the treatment for tetanus comes from the vaccine we all know but also from medication to control the muscle spasms.
The last death from tetanus in New Zealand was recorded n 2007.
George had been the son of well known sea captain Robert Seymour - who along with his wife Mary and family came to New Zealand in 1860 on the Phoenix.
Captain Seymour entered the coastal shipping trade and was often mentioned in newspapers.
He travelled between Mangawai and Auckland owning the cutters Three Brothers and Alarm which he also sailed in regattas.
He died on February 12,1893 aged 78 and his wife Mary Ann died aged 92 in 1908.
They are buried - along with George in the Symonds St Cemetery.
Picture of a painting by Sir Charles Bell of a tetanus sufferer.​

If it weren’t for your gumboots where would you be?
Go on, admit it, you heard the song in your head.
What could be more kiwi than gumboots, the footwear that makes us all the same.
They aren’t New Zealand invented - gumboots - or Wellingtons - initially owed their name to Arthur Wellesley - the first Duke of Wellington who invented them in the 1800s.
And they were imported into New Zealand along with a variety of knockoffs - even being taxed.
For New Zealand, one of the big brands was Skellerup - which was started in Christchurch by George Waldemar Skellerup - or Skjellerup.
Skellerup had been born in the small town of Cobden in Victoria, Australia to Margaret and Peder Skjellerup on February 14, 1881.
His father had been a farmer but died when George was 2.
After leaving school at 12, he moved to Freemantle where he was apprenticed to a surveyor. At his mother’s request he took a night class in shorthand. He was taken under the wing of a businessman where he was a clerk and later a secretary then went to work for the Dunlop Pneumatic Tyre Company.
In 1902, he sailed for New Zealand - landing in Dunedin after which he moved to Christchurch - working for Dunlop there.
He married Elizabeth Reid in Dunedin, on 25 February 1907. They first lived in Riccarton, in a house he had built himself. He worked long hours repairing punctured tyres.
Then in 1910, he founded the Para Rubber Company - selling all kinds of rubber products. The name Para came from Para in Brazil, which was a major source of high grade rubber. By 1918, he had four stores.
It was also when he opted to drop the j from his name.
His success began to grow but when he was hit hard from the Great Depression he diversified into other companies - one of which was the Marathon Rubber footwear company started in 1939 - the maker of gumboots. It was one of multiple companies manufacturing things like parts for milking machines and waterproof coats.
He wasn’t, however, allowed to make tyres - failing to get a licence from the government. Despite this, during the shortages in World War Two, he was asked by the government to see if he could reclaim rubber from old tyres.
But he was hampered by a lack of salt - there was not enough in the country so he set up Skellerup Solar Salt - to take it from Lake Grassmere. That company later became Dominion Salt when the government took over the company.
His greatest interest was gardening. He was an active member of the Canterbury Horticultural Society, and donated the Para Cup for garden competitions in Christchurch. The New Zealand Lily Society made him a life member, and he was a notable supporter of the New Zealand Rhododendron Association. He imported many specimen trees and shrubs for his Desmond Street property, which became a showplace for visitors to Christchurch.
George Skellerup suffered a massive heart attack while on holiday in England and died at Minehead, Somerset, on 5 June 1955. His body was flown to Christchurch and buried under a weeping elm in Ruru lawn cemetery.​

Watching debates in Parliament sometimes reminds us of watching toddlers that need a time out. Especially lately.
But despite what’s been happening recently, none of it is particularly new. There has always been those who misbehaved, disruptions and debates so long and so stupid that we wonder how it is that they happened.
For example, one of the pointless debates in the House happened over clothing. No, not important safety stuff, but about what the servants in Parliament should wear.
What was then called the House of Representatives spent all of a day in 1856 debating cuffs and colours, only to come to the decision that servants should wear gaudy red cuffs rather than plain black suits - and it was mainly because they did not want the servants to appear better dressed than the politicians.
There are also a series of hugely funny insults flung around that were often considered to have breached the rule of unparliamentary behaviour and language.
This included - and this is not an exhaustive list - “blowfly minded’, “fungus farmer”, “redartate worm”, “great ape”, “frustrated warlord”, “silly old moo” and hilariously “has the energy of a tired snail returning home from a funeral.”
Debates can also bring out the worst and best. You might have heard the term American term filibuster - a speech so intentionally long it's designed to delay something.
In New Zealand it’s called by the British term stonewalling….and we once had a speech last 24 hours.
William Lee Rees was born in Bristol, England on december 16, 1836 to surgeon James Rees and Elizabeth Pocock. After his father died when he was young he was raised by his mother and uncle, both of the members of a famous cricketing family.
In 1851 he emigrated to Melbourne, Australia with his mother at the start of the Victorian gold rush.
William began studying law and had an interest in religion, training to be a congregationalist minister.
He married Hannah Elizabeth Staite - called Annie - in July 8, 1863 and they had seven children.
Like many others of his family he played cricket including first class matches.
Attracted by the rapidly growing Otago gold rush, the family moved to New Zealand in 1866 where William was admitted to the Supreme Court and worked as a barrister before becoming interested in politics.
They moved to Auckland where William began his political career, first representing the Kanieri Riding then being elected to the Auckland City east electorate. After several more elections where he lost - he was then a member of the Opposition.
It was on September 13, 1876 (a Friday!) Lee began his speech and ended the next day - with the House taking breaks.
So what on earth could he have talked about all that time? Essentially any rubbish he wanted.
The point was actually to keep the House sitting for a period of time without anything being done during a contentious period about the validity of some members of the house and their electoral seats.
And like a lot of things Parliament had done, it was essentially a waste of time in the long run.
Strangely, at the next election he was defeated.
Rees died in Gisborne on May 18, 1912 and is buried in Makaraka Cemetery.
Pic from Te Papa’s collection.​

We don’t think anything of airmail now. Although not as popular as it once was, mail - mostly in the form of packages - goes all over the world all the time.
But someone had to start it. And despite the attempt as pigeon post which we have written about before, the first airmail service in New Zealand was in 1919 between Auckland and Dargaville.
In December 1919 George Bolt, flying for the Walsh brothers in Mission Bay, took off and made the first official airmail flight. Mail was picked up from the harbour opposite the Queen St wharf from a launch. He flew up the east coast then crossed to the west coast heading for the mouth of the Dargaville river. (Te Ara, the online dictionary of New Zealand has a recording of Bolt discussing the first flight).
Despite keeping it up for four months, it never made a profit and was stopped.
He tried again with a route between Auckland and Whangarei using a seaplane but it was no more successful.
A regular route was later taken up by another pilot - Captain Euan Dickson a couple of years later..
Bolt was born in Dunedin on May 24, 1893 to Frederick and Mary and became interested in flight at the age of nine when he saw early hot air ballooning and modelling.
Determinedly he built his own glider which he flew above the Cashmere Hills. After that he never stopped - building more and more from which he took aerial photos.
In 1916 he was hired by pioneer pilot Vivian Walsh and learned to fly flying boats and float planes.
Bolt married Mary Best in Christchurch in 1922.
He went on to work for Dominion Airways then was appointed the commercial pilot, chief engineer and advanced flying instructor for the Wellington Aero Club.
Mary Bolt had died in 1928, leaving George with two young children. On 3 March 1933 he married Dora Irene Frankland Bell at Khandallah, Wellington.
During the second World War he flew in the Royal New Zealand Air Force and the Royal Air Force and on his return became Chief Engineer for Tasman Empire Airways Limited, or TEAL, which went on to become Air New Zealand.
In 1953 he received an OBE and retired in 1960.
The main access road to Auckland Airport is called George Bolt Memorial Drive.
Bolt died on July 27, 1963 and is buried in Purewa Cemetery​

So fierce was the fire in Lyttelton on October 24, 1870, that the red sky could be seen for hundreds of miles.
About 10am, a small fire started in the store room of the Queen’s hotel. It was noticed by a group of billiards players who raised the alarm.
A determined effort was made to put it out but the fire was firmly in control.
Wind began to push the fire on, first to a nearby empty house, then it jumped the street ravaging through buildings. The Lyttelton Times office was destroyed, onwards through the Bank of New Zealand office and any house in the way.
Lyttelton had no fire brigade of its own, only a small group of volunteers with minimal equipment.
Along with them residents tackled the fire, attempts were made to stop it by pulling down houses to create a break, but the fire was too wild.
Prisoners were even released from the prison to help fight the inferno.
The Canterbury Hotel fell as the fire continued through the town.
The telegraph office went too. Word had got out but now communication was cut off.
Fortunately the fire engine from Christchurch had arrived and was hard at work.
It moved so fast that children were snatched from their beds, and people gathered, many in nightclothes, and were sent to the Colonists Hall or to the SS Taranaki who took anyone seeking refuge.
Within five hours most of the commercial area of Lyttelton had been wiped out.
And more than 15 hours later the fire was under control. Forty one homes and businesses were gone.
To this day, no one knows how the fire started. It was estimated two thirds of the business centre of Lyttelton was destroyed.
Food had to be sent from Christchurch to feed those displaced by the fire.
Originally it was thought no one had died in the fire and even today that is not confirmed. But a sailor called Johnston - seen only shortly before the fire - was never seen again and no sign of him found.
Lyttelton’s mayor - John Smith Willcox - who had only just taken on the job in 1868 - was unable to continue as his own business - cabinet making was also burned to the ground.
He had been born in Birmingham, England to William and Ann. He was found dead in his chair at his business on October 29, 1880.
He is buried in the Lyttelton Anglican Cemetery.
Pic from Te Papa’s collection.​

For a brief three months the Lusitania was the world’s biggest liner until the Mauretania was launched - and had made the fastest crossing of the Atlantic in 1906.
The Lusitania, it had been agreed, would be available in times of war, and had gun positions fitted. But no guns were ever fitted to them, although she was carrying war supplies.
The ship was huge, fitted out with lifts, electricity, wireless telegraph, first class and second class lounges, a cafe that could open out onto the deck during fine weather, a grand staircase that took in six floors and smoking rooms.
It was palatial and even its third class - mostly used by immigrants - was considered much better than previous ships.
James Andrew Gardner, his wife Annie and two of their sons Eric and William were on board.
James had been born in Dunedin in 187,1 to Andrew and Sarah. Andrew was considered “a leading light” of the Trinity Methodist Church in Dunedin. James took after his father and became a lay preacher for the church.
He was educated in Dunedin working as a hosiery manufacturer.
He married Annie Gray in 1893 and they had two sons in Dunedin, Leonard and Eric. Then in 1902, James decided to go to Toronto, Canada where he had a business interest in a costume manufacturing company. Their third son William was born there.
In1915, James decided to come back to New Zealand with his family. Leonard had gone on ahead to Nelson.
James, Annie, Eric and William boarded the Lusitania on May 1 heading first for England.
It was just after 2pm when the torpedo hit the ship. Annie fainted and was unable to be brought round and in the frantic rush never left the ship. It seems unlikely James would have left her.
Eric managed to get to a boat only for him to discover the body of their father was lying in the bottom of a lifeboat. He had no idea what had happened to William.
It was at Queenstown, Ireland (now known as Cobh) that survivors came ashore. And it was where Eric was reunited with William. They were orphaned and penniless. Both returned to New Zealand to their older brother Leonard. Eric however enlisted and died in France of his wounds in 1917.
James and Annie are considered lost at sea.​

The world was plunged into horror as the news broke that luxury liner Lusitania had been sunk by a German torpedo.
It was a defining moment in World War one, and globally turned public opinion against Germany.
The official death toll was 1198. Among them were two New Zealand families.
Joe and Mary Macky stood on the deck of the sinking Lusitania and let others get into the lifeboats ahead of them.
Joe had been born in Auckland on March 6, 1855, to Thomas and Catherine. Although considered a British subject, he was born, lived and worked in New Zealand before that fateful trip.
Educated in Auckland he went on to found the firm Macky, Logan, Steen and Company, a well known haberdashery and clothiers, best known for their “Cambridge” shirts, a business that in its heyday employed some 2000 people.
Macky became Mayor of Devonport in 1896 and retired near the end of his fourth term in 1900. Macky also held a seat on the Auckland Harbour Board as the Devonport Borough representative. Macky was also known as a prominent Auckland yachtsman.
He had married Isabella Campbell Kennedy in 1878 and they had five children before her death in 1887.
Joe then went on to marry Mary Birrell in Australia in 1888 and have four more children.
In 1915, Joe and Mary were travelling in what’s called second cabin or second class on the luxury liner Lusitania.
They were unlikely to have known that about 50 telegrams had been received by prominent passengers warning that the ship would be torpedoed leading to some warning that “death accompanies the Lusitania.”
Joe and Mary had been visiting overseas since 1914 as part of Joe’s annual buying trip - heading to England via New York to see one of their son’s Jack, who wished to enlist with an English regiment.
In 1915 they boarded the Lusitania, going from New York to Liverpool.
On May 7, the ship was off the coast of Ireland when it crossed in front of a U-boat that fired a torpedo. On board her were 1,264 passengers, 3 stowaways and a crew of 693.
It hit the starboard bow and there were a couple of explosions. The crew raced to get people to lifeboats but the listing of the ship made it difficult. In all only 6 out of 48 managed to get launched.
Joe tried to help as much as he could but it was soon apparent some people were never going to get off the ship.
Mary was offered a seat in a lifeboat but she gave it to another younger woman passenger telling her “I am getting old and would rather stay with my husband. You are younger and have life before you.”
They were both last seen standing together on the deck. It would be only moments later the ship went under.
Both, of course, are lost at sea.​

That phrase was everywhere, on social invitations, meetings, morning and afternoon teas, dances.
And it evokes memories of sausages rolls, pikelets with jam and cream, asparagus rolls and of course, lamingtons.
Right, let’s get this bit out of the way because it’s a bit of a chuckle. There really was someone called Lord Lamington.
And yes, the fluffy sponge dipped in chocolate and dusted with coconut is named after him.
Or probably more precisely his wife.
Charles Wallace Alexander Napier Cochrane-Baillie, Lord Lamington, was Governor of Queensland from 1896 to 1901. Born in England, as a member of the peerage, he was given the best education and became the private secretary to the English Prime MInister.
Upon the death of his father in 1890 he became the second Baron Lamington.
He married Mary Houghton Hozier in1895 and a year later went to Queensland as governor.
It was there that the tale of the sweet treat seems to begin. The story is that during entertaining guests at Government House it was discovered there was not enough for a dessert. At the time the French chef Armand Galland is supposed to have cut up leftover sponge cake, dipped it in chocolate and covered it in coconut.
The new treat was a hit (even if Lord Lamington did refer to them as those bloody poofy woolly biscuits) and an icon was born.
There are many variations of the story - that a maid accidentally dropped sponge cake into some melted chocolate and the one that attributes it directly to Mary, Lady Lamington herself.
But she wrote a memoir of her time which includes no reference to the cake.
It’s just as likely that it was invented by Amy Shauer who ran a cookery school in Queensland that Lady Lamington was patron of.
The chef at the centre of one of the stories, Armand Galland, had arrived in Australia in 1911 and rapidly became the chef to celebrities - becoming something of a celebrity himself.
He may or may not have let behind a sweet treat we all know.
He is buried with with his wife Cladie in South Brisbane cemetery.,​

The inscription of “killed in motor accident” on the McElroy family headstone
barely tells the story of a family plagued by a series of disasters.
George McElroy and his wife Cathrine, their kids and their young employee were on
their way home from blackberry picking near Ongarue on February 25, 1927.
George was a farmer and contractor. He had been driving for 20 years and held a
taxi licence as well.
But at the Ongarue level crossing he had just started to cross in his five seater car
when the northbound train came through the crossing.
The impact threw the car 30 metres and most of the passengers out of the car.
George and Cathrine along with baby Eugene and five year old Doreen were killed
while Colleen who was two and four-year-old Patsy survived as did 19 year old
employee Alice Gospodnevitch.
The train managed to stop and passengers jumped out to help and found little
Colleen and Patsy emerging from among the wreckage.
The train driver said he never saw the car and it was noted in the inquest that the
crossing was considered a dangerous one.
Alice later said she had never seen or heard the oncoming train and did not think
George had either, as the car never stopped. However she was unable to remember
the accident itself.
The train driver Herbert Dick said he had been slowing down coming into the
crossing and was blowing the whistle and had only seen the car at the last moment.
The inquest concluded the deaths were accidental saying George had taken an
unnecessary risk.
George was born on November 9, 1888 to Owen and Mary in Halcombe. Records
say he married Kathleen Francis King in 1920 - who may have been called Cathrine
- George had a sister called Kathleen.
Owen had come to New Zealand in 1879 from Northern Ireland and had been one of
the pioneering settlers in the area working in the flax and saw milling industry. He
had married Mary in 1881 and was a member of the Oroua County Council for 27
years.
George had been part of the New Zealand Expeditionary Force and was injured - a
shot to his right thigh.
The McElroy family had quite a run of bad luck.
Only a year before George’s mother and sister Eileen had been in a motor accident
in Palmerston North after a collision with another car. His brother had also been in
an accident where the truck he was driving hit a young man who died.
His father Owen had been badly injured only a few weeks before after being kicked
by a horse.
Meanwhile another brother had his business and home destroyed by fire.
George and his family are buried in the Taumarunui Old Cemetery.​