All around New Zealand were subantarctic islands with caches of food and supplies that had saved the lives of many a stranded sailor.
Isolated at the bottom of the world, the islands around our country were beautiful, welcome to sea weary sailors and very dangerous. With voyages taking months, having a supply depot was a good idea. Quite a number of castaways had survived on remote islands, living on what they could find. In 1867, the survivors of the General Grant were found on Auckland Island. Before that both the Grafton and the Invercauld had also wrecked and the Government began a plan of a network of castaway depots and regular visits (although they could be months apart) by government ships. Emergency depots were set up on Auckland Island, Campbell, Antipodes and Bounty Islands. The first wooden depot was set up at Sandy Bay on Enderby Island and in 1877 the government took over responsibility for managing the network of huts and cabins. There was nothing fancy about the provisions, tinned meat and biscuits, clothing, blankets, fishing equipment, medicine, matches, tools and some weapons and ammunition. Along with supplies, the government opted to release animals on the islands, pigs on the Auckland Islands, then goats, sheep, rabbits, cattle on other islands. Some populations did not survive but some few did and because of their limited breeding opportunities have rare characteristics. Some of the caches also had boats or building materials. It wasn’t long before the depots were plundered. Thieves, whalers and just anyone who saw it as a cheap way to get supplies had a go, completely defeating the purpose of them. One of the most regular visitors to the depots was George Samuel Hooper, often as the Captain of the Amokura. The ship had started life as a British Royal Navy ship before being bought by the Government as a training ship and called Amokura. Captain Hooper took boys aged between 12-14 out, sailing to the subantarctic islands over the summers to teach them. It was hoped that the boys so trained would provide a nucleus for the New Zealand Division of the Royal Navy as well as being a source of recruitment for the mercantile marine. They often visited the depots. Many of the boys became deck officers, and at one time a very high proportion of the New Zealand merchant marine was commanded by Amokura boys. Hooper was born in London in 1874 and came to New Zealand as an officer. He had been apprenticed on to ships at the age of about 14. He was appointed the training officer in charge of the Amokura in 1906. He died in Wellington on March 4, 1931 and is buried in Karori Cemetery
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New Zealand boasts the steepest street in the world (sorry Wales, you tried and
failed). Baldwin Street in Dunedin has been celebrated in many different ways. Including the annual gutbuster where runners go up and down again and the rolling of thousands of Jaffas down it. There have also been plenty of stunts, including one man who went up it on a pogo stick and another who used a motorcycle but on one wheel. Tourists flock to the street, sometimes to the residents’ dismay. Baldwin Street is a 359m dead end street (although there is a linking walkway at the top) with a gradient of 34.8 percent - now officially recognised the Guinness Book of Records. It was never intended to be that steep. Like many cities in New Zealand, Dunedin was laid out in a grid with no consideration for the terrain. So how did Baldwin Street get its name? It’s named after William Baldwin - who was born John Baldwin in 1836 in Ireland. He served in the army in India before coming to Otago in 1869 and buying a sheep run. He was one of the first discoverers of gold in Waitahuna. Baldwin tried politics for a short while but never made a career of it. Maybe because he believed the North and South Islands should be separate. In 1873 he established the Otago Guardian newspaper and became it’s general manager and editor. He was also a partner in the accountancy and grain firm Baldwin & Ashcroft. By 1891, he was also the owner of the New Zealand Times. In the 1890’s he visited Perth in Australia for the first time and fell in love with the climate. He determined he was going to retire there with his wife Janet Curling Buchanan. He moved, and took no further part in business but was considered one of Perth’s best known residents. He died aged 82 on July 30, 1917 and is buried in Kattakatta Cemetery in Perth. Maggie McIntrye was found in the back room of widow Martha Reid’s home scratched up and thin, dressed only in a nightgown on May 16,1877.
It was a far cry from the plump girl who had gone to work for her only a few months before. When detective Thomas Neil checked her it was obvious she was dead. There were only a couple of mattresses in the room and one window had no glass in it and she wore only a thin nightdress. How and why she had died - aged only 17 - was a mystery and it went to an inquest - which in those days had a jury. Maggie - Margaret - had gone to work for Martha Mary Harris Gill Reid as a servant on February 16, 1877 - and the last time her parents /Daniel and Ann had seen her she was healthy and plump Several people told the jury having seen Maggie, spotting her looking thin, silent and cold looking. And never properly dressed for a Dunedin heading into a full winter. John Blakeley who lived nearby saw her out on the street one winter’s evening picking up stones. She told him Mrs Reid had told her to do it. He told her to go inside but she continued picking up stones. At least one mentioned that in February Maggie had looked healthy. A week before her death a Sunday school teacher had seen her and worried she had been hit but satisfied himself it seemed to be ill-health. Another teacher was told Maggie was made to work without any shoes. There was also circumstantial evidence that Maggie was being beaten. Another girl Kate Telfer who had previously worked for Reid for a short time said she had never had enough to eat and had ended up sleeping on the floor. But her evidence was controversial - with Reid’s lawyer complaining that the treatment of other staff did not mean anything about Maggie. Another witness had seen Reid hit Maggie. Doctors disagreed on why Maggie had died. One has considered starvation while another thought meningitis was a possibility. Reid for her part said Maggie had been ill and had been thin since she came to work for her. The coroner said the jury had to consider why Maggie had made no attempt to escape the situation but the jury wasn’t having it and found that Mrs Reid would be guilty of manslaughter by neglect. Reid was sent for trial in the Supreme Court and by then one of the doctors told of a brain bleed likely to have been caused by a blow to the head and that the cause of death was starvation. Hundreds tried to get into the trial at the Supreme Court in Dunedin in July 1877. Despite what seems like a great deal of evidence, the jury found her not guilty - the judge himself had said that Reid would not be guilty of manslaughter simply because she did not provide enough food and shelter, as the victim could have removed herself from the situation. Reid, who had been born in England, promptly returned there soon after the trial and never came back to New Zealand. Maggie is buried in the Southern Cemetery in Dunedin. New Zealand is known for its sheep. We’ve all heard the statistics that there is more
sheep than people. We are also known for our lamb exports. Thursday was National Lamb Day. But the frozen meat trade was nearly over before it had begun and was rescued by one quick thinking man. We’ve told the story of the Dunedin before, the ship that carried the first lot of frozen meat to Britain. Weirdly, the Dunedin and its sister ship the Marlborough, disappeared during their sailings never to be seen again. But that first voyage was on February 15, 1882 the Dunedin sailed with 4331 mutton, 598 lamb and 22 pig carcasses, 250 kegs of butter, hare, pheasant, turkey, chicken and 2226 sheep tongues. It was under the command of Captain John Whitson. He had captained the Dunedin since it was an immigrant ship and had also overseen its conversion to carry frozen meat. The journey started well enough but once in the tropics the ship was becalmed, delaying its progress. It was then the crew noticed that the freezing air, necessary to keep the meat at a cold enough temperature, was not circulating properly. Like many at the time, Whitson was a jack of all trades. Immediately he rolled up his sleeves and went to work. He went into the freezing hold and began drilling holes to allow the air to move more freely. He nearly froze to death to keep his historic cargo from spoiling. He had to be pulled out by the crew and resuscitated. The Dunedin arrived in London 98 days after leaving New Zealand with it’s cargo intact, kicking off the frozen meat trade. Whitson had been born in Perthshire, Scotland to John and Charlottee and become a master mariner. He had married Elizabeth Hall Illingworth who died in 1877 leaving him with two daughters. Whitson captained the ship during several other voyages but before its last one he was taken ill and when the ship arrived at Port Chalmers on March 1, 1886, he was so ill he had to relinquish command and seek medical aid. Yet he was at the Oamaru wharf in May to wave farewell to his former command but he died within 24 hours of her leaving port, on 4 May, 1886 at age 45. His body was sent by train to Dunedin and his burial on 8 May was attended by some 200 mourners. He is buried in Dunedin’s Northern Cemetery. Picture by Judith Prins Today is Valentine’s Day - the day for love, when if you listen very carefully you may hear the twang of Cupid’s arrow, but more likely the sound of an empty wallet and the rustle of florist paper wrapped around an over-priced rose.
But while you’re (hopefully) snuggling up to your nearest and dearest, spare a thought for poor Alfred Webb, whose quest for love failed - dismally. His is almost the time-honoured story; boy meets girl, boy falls in love, boy fails to meet girl’s mother’s standard, boy loses girl, boy is branded a lunatic and dies alone in an asylum. We did say almost! Alfred was born sometime around 1844, where is not known, nor are the names of his parents. He landed up in Whanganui where he served in the Armed Constabulary, a police force which operated in Taranaki between 1846 and 1867 and aimed to protect settlers. Alfred also worked as a messenger for the Post Office, was active in his church Sunday School and by all accounts was a well-respected, honest young man. Early in 1869, Alfred contracted Rheumatic Fever. Remarkably he survived, but the illness left him with memory problems and made him appear quite simple-minded. It is not known when Alfred met Emily Soulby, the girl who stole his heart, but it was at Sunday School. Emily was born in Whanganui in 1852, the only child of Joseph Soulby, a wealthy mill owner and his wife Mary Jane (nee Shield). Joseph died in 1868, leaving Mary, then aged 53, a widow with a 14-year-old daughter. Alfred’s (perhaps one-sided) romance with Emily saw him bring her gifts of cakes and he often called on her at her home – despite the protests of her mother. On September 15, 1869, things took a turn for the worse when Alfred was found in the Soulby’s garden trying to see Emily. Mary finally had enough. She had him arrested. Alfred appeared in court the next day and was sentenced to a week in prison. While there, he was assessed as being insane (no doubt his memory problems aided the diagnosis) and he was shipped off to the notorious Karori Lunatic Asylum in Wellington. Many in the Whanganui community who knew Alfred protested that he was quite sane and was being harshly punished, while others thought the treatment might help him recover from his memory problems. But Alfred’s fate was sealed. He spent around six months in the asylum before being released. He returned to Whanganui but found that being labelled a lunatic left him unemployable. Alfred refused to take charity and was arrested for vagrancy in June 1870, then again in July for which he was imprisoned for a month with hard labour. In October he was again charged with vagrancy and was sent back to Karori. The Karori asylum closed in 1873 due to its horrendous conditions and lack of actual treatment and Alfred became one of the first patients at the new Mount View Lunatic Asylum near the Basin Reserve (where the Governor General’s residence is now). He never left. Alfred died from tuberculosis on March 20, 1885, aged 41. He is buried in Bolton Street Cemetery. But, as it is nearing Valentine’s Day, we will end on a happier note. Emily did meet someone who passed her mother’s scratch test. In 1872 she married William Lingard, a former trooper in the Colonial Forces and the first recipient of the New Zealand Cross (the equivalent of the Victoria Cross). William was also a founder of Whanganui’s Bell Brewery. Probably much to his mother-in-law’s disappointment, however, William became bankrupt in 1883 owing £13,300. William found work as an insurance agent and in about 1889 the couple and, most likely, Emily’s mother, moved to Wellington. They bought a large house on Wesley Road, Kelburn. Ironically the house was just a few hundred metres from Bolton Street Cemetery, where Alfred was buried. Mary died in January 1905, William in June 1922 and Emily two years later in 1924. All three are buried in Karori Cemetery. William and Emily had five daughters, four of whom lived into adulthood. Picture by Kelly Sekkema. Who loves a good crime novel?
New Zealand was the birthplace and home of one of the “Queens of Crime.” Ngaio Marsh whose novels about Detective Roderick Alleyn are still enjoyed all over the world She was born in Christchurch to bank clerk Henry Marsh and his wife Rose probably on April 23 1895 - there is some uncertainty about it since her father did not register her birth until 1900. When she was 7 her family moved to Cashmere where, her father built a house in Valley road. It was to be her home for the rest of her life. During her school years, Ngaio was much involved in literary and dramatic arts before going to the Canterbury College School of Art and doing some private tutoring. She shared a studio with other artists on Cashel Street, making friends she would keep throughout her life. She wrote articles, poems and stories many of which were published in the Christchurch Sun. Despite joining a Shakespeare company and then a comedy company, Ngaio thought of herself as a painter. Despite exhibiting she never managed great success. In 1928 she went to England returning in 1932. She had completed a novel A man lay dead sending it to Agatha Christie’s agent who sent it to a publishing house. Between 1934 and 1982 she wrote 32 detective novels. Ngaio quickly became a star in the detective novel literary world. Four of the books are set in New Zealand and many contain references to New Zealand. She was unofficially engaged to Edward Bristed who died in action in 1917 in the First World War. After that she never married or had any children. She gained many honours including becoming an officer of the Order of the British Empire in 1948 and a Dame in 1966. Her home has been preserved as a museum and the University of Canterbury has a theatre named after her as is a retirement home in Christchurch. Ngaio also wrote her own biography - called Black beech and honey dew in 1966 - and revised it in 1981 just before her death. Before her death she systematically destroyed many of her papers, letters, manuscripts and documents. Nevertheless - a book she had started during the Second World War called Money in the Morgue was released after it was finished by Stella Duffy in 2018. A number of her books have been adapted for television and radio dramas. Ngaio died in Christchurch on February 18, 1982 and was buried at the Church of the Holy Innocents in Mount Peel. Photo from Te Papa’s collection. It has been years since the 74 bells of the Wellington carillon bells rang out over the city.
The whole project of a memorial with the bells was a huge commitment - one taken by the Wellington War Memorial Carillon Society who ordered the first 49 bells without having land or money to build the necessary bell tower for them. So they offered the bells for sale to the citizens of Wellington from as little as £30 to £1440. And despite what was then a huge cost - they were snapped up. So much so that they had too many applications to buy them. Preference was given to the families of the fallen and New Zealand Expeditionary force members along with several military bodies. Each bell has a name and an inscription (with the exception of a bell dedicated to veterans of the South African war.) The bells were given to the government who used them in the building of the National War Memorial Carillon which stood 50 metres high. It was dedicated and opened on Anzac Day 1932 and the first recital of the bells was made - by English carillonist Clifford Ball and Wellingtonain Gladys Watkins. Gladys Elinor Watkins was born on October 20, 1884 in Akaroa, to Elizabeth and Stephen. After schooling in Wellington she started her own business as a music teacher. During World War One she belonged to a group that performed at the Trentham camp and was a singer in a couple of choirs. She heard about the possibility of a carillon and wanted to learn how to play one - so with the backing of Carillon society she travelled to Belgium to study. Gladys went on recital tours and got to try the newly cast bells destined for Wellington while they were still in London. She was one of the very few women carillonists and composed original music for the huge instruments. At the formal opening for the Wellington she played along with Ball then went on to play a further 307 recitals from the clavier in the bell tower, which she could only get to by climbing a long steep set of stairs and ladders. Gladys retired in 1936 and married Evening Post chief reporter Ernest Edward Muir. She died on October 20, 1939 and is buried in the Karori Cemetery. The horrific death of 35-year-old Rebecca Grigg shocked all who read of it.
And it was her husband Frank who bore the brunt of the court’s ire. She was found so emaciated that doctors thought she would have needed to be found two weeks before her death to survive. It caused a series of sensational headlines in 1905 after she died on July 13. In the end, it was the breaking down of her lungs from an abscess killed Rebecca but it was hastened police believed by the wilful neglect of her bottle gatherer husband Francis George Grigg who ended up charged with manslaughter. No food was found in the house, which was filthy and she was not even lying on any bed clothes. Lice were on her neck and face and in her hair. Neighbours worried about Rebecca in the days before her death had been told a variety of things by Francis and he gave yet another at the inquest into her death. Neighbour Prudence Weaver had been asked by Francis to help his wife - she had done so before and knew Rebecca was a frail thing who did not have good health. She found her covered in old rugs, jackets and coats and ice cold. Rebecca was alive, but only just. Rebecca was barely able to talk, asking for a stout - but when it was brought to her she could not drink it. A doctor was sent for but he never arrived and after a few hours another was sought but Rebecca died a couple of hours after he arrived. Prudence said Rebecca could not have been in any state to cook anything even if there had been more than a piece of bread and a bit of rice in the house. She also said she had spoken to Francis a few days before who had told her Rebecca was unwell. At the inquest Francis - called Frank - said his wife had woken the night before her death complaining about her chest. He had given her a little brandy. She had had always been a bit unwell and they had thought it was her heart. The jury at the inquest thought he had hastened her death with neglect and Frank was sent to trial. But it was from one of the police witnesses that the possible answer came. One of the police witnesses said several times Rebecca had been arrested for public drunkeness around Auckland. Given that she had asked for stout even as she was dying, it was likely she had a severe alcohol problem. The Supreme Court did not believe a charge against Frank given the circumstances would hold up and threw it out before any trial. Frank had been born in 1865 in the Channel Islands to George and Ann and the family came to New Zealand in 1874. He married Rebecca in Dunedin in 1899. After his release he never remarried and died in July 1915. Both Rebecca and Frank are buried at Waikumete Cemetery. |
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