The Waverley Wine Vaults

Few would suspect that the now empty lot on the corner of Worcester, Gloucester and Manchester streets was once home to the famous Waverley Wine Vaults.

Previously known as the Australasian Wine Vaults, the business was established in the late 1870s by New Zealand pioneer Edwin Coxhead Mouldey (Press 22/5/1897: 5). Mouldey, along with parents Moses and Eleanor, siblings Moses, Mary-Ann, William, Phoebe, Eleanor and relatives Henry and Sophia, were one of the pioneer families who emigrated to New Zealand on The Cressy in 1850.

In 1869, leaving the confectionery business he had established in Lyttelton to his eldest son Walter, Mouldey purchased 4 ha of land in the Heathcote valley. Here, Edwin established his vineyard, featuring plum, apricot, pear, peach and tomato plants. Mouldey also built a homestead on the site, where he, his wife Jessie Landers and their five children Ethel, Walter-Edwin, Frederick, Amy-Eleanor and Eva-Rebecca resided (Ogilvie 2009: 134-135).

The Mouldey homestead in Heathcote valley. Image: Ogilvie 2009.

While life in the valley may have seemed oh-so-sweet, it was not without tragedy for the Mouldey family. Frederick Mouldey, who was a keen rabbit hunter on the Heathcote hills, was found dead after failing to meet his father at the family bach in Sumner in 1914. His death was listed as accidental, as it appeared his shotgun had mistakenly gone off and the shell had lodged in Frederick’s throat (Press 09/03/1914: 9).

Article regarding the death of Frederick Mouldey. Image: Press 09/03/1914: 9.

Walter Mouldey, the eldest of Edwin’s sons, became well known in the community for his strength and as an amateur sportsman. At just 19, Mouldey’s chest measures a staggering 43 inches and he was ranked among the 10 strongest men in the world. In the early 20th century Walter added a gymnasium to the Mouldey homestead, where notable visiting boxers were often invited for a round or two in the ring. One of the more prestigious visitors was Bob Fitzsimmons, who held three boxing world titles between 1891 and 1905 (Ogilvie 2009: 134-135).

In 1914 when war broke out and New Zealand didn’t immediately join the war efforts, Walter (who had previously fought in the Boer War) purchased a ticket to England and joined the Lancashire Fusiliers. During his time in the Fusiliers, Walter rose to the rank of lieutenant, but was severely gassed in France and sustained a leg injury from a splintering shell. His outstanding physique was thought to be the only thing that saved him from death (Ogilvie 2009: 134-135).

The grave site of Edwin Mouldey and Jessie Lander. Image: BillionGraves.com

The Mouldeys most prosperous venture was the Waverley Wine Vaults. Originally named the Australasian Wine Vaults, Edwin began his wine making at his Heathcote Valley property in 1869. While the fruit trees prevailed, grapes were not as easy to procure as Edwin had hoped, and so he was limited to making fruit wines (Press 22/5/1897: 5).

In 1888, Edwin moved his business into what was formerly Gee’s school room, on Town Sections 688, 689, 690 and 691. With this move, the wine vaults grew both in size, and success (Press 22/5/1897: 5). The vineyards achieved their peak in 1907, when they produced 1,150 gallons of wine, 105 gallons of spirits, 1,413 gallons of sherry and a staggering 162 gallons of fortifying fruit spirits (Ogilvie 2009: 134-135).

Advertisements from the period promote the sale of port wine, sherry, verdeilho, red and white constantia and other light wines (Press 27/11/1901: 12).

Advertisement for the sale of liquor from the Waverley Wine Vaults. Image: Press 12/11/1901: 12.

In 1913 after the death of his wife, Edwin sold the Heathcote Valley vineyard to the Booth family, stepping down to allow eldest son Walter to carry on the lease and management of the Worcester Street winery until 1939 (Ogilvie 2009: 134-135).

Advertisements and articles from the period are a stark difference to the way in which we advertise alcohol today. In an article about Mouldey and the wine business, the industry is described as “commendable” and Edwin describes the need for “encouragement” for people (referring in particular to families) to consume more alcohol, by way of lower prices and a license to retail his wines (Press 22/5/1897: 5)

Article on the Waverley Wine Vaults. Image: Press 22/05/1897: 5.\

The wine business didn’t come without its bumps along the way, however, and the Mouldey family experienced some significant challenges. In 1888, Edwin Mouldey was declared bankrupt just 5 years after he originally leased and mortgaged the town sections on which he situated the Waverley Wine Vaults (Star 7/1/1888: 2). A vesting order was taken out on all the sites in the same year, which is believed to have been the reason Mouldey was able to stay in business.

In 1907, Walter Mouldey was caught delivering a package of unlabelled port wine to George Bales in Ashburton, which was at the time a no-license district. Walter was charged with making the delivery, and further charged with failing to send the requisite notice to the Clerk of the Court (Ashburton Guardian 15/2/1907: 3).

Despite these indiscretions, the Mouldey family were held in high respect within the community. Eva-Rebecca took her love for art and made a distinguished career for herself, under her married name of Mewton. She exhibited some of her water colour drawings in London, which featured scenery from Switzerland, Austria and Bombay, showing the distance of her travels (Ogilvie 2009: 134-135).

Amy-Eleanor succeeded in a ‘first aid to the injured’ course, passing in the Medallion section, and received many awards during her school days (Ogilvie 2009: 134-135).

Edwin lived to be 83, and maintained a distinguished reputation within the Canterbury community. The Waverley Wine Vaults was the first distillery in the South Island, and although after 1939 the distillery was re-purposed into a packing facility, several other wine merchants came into business in Christchurch during the middle of the 20th century, following in Mouldey’s footsteps (Ogilvie 2009: 134-135).

From 1959 the Heathcote valley property was farmed by Jack and Lucy Labuddle and Rolfe Bond, after Walter officially retired from the business in 1939 and moved into the seafaring business, followed by his two sons Andrew and David.

Steph Howarth

References

Olgivie, G., 2009. The Port Hills of Christchurch. Phillips and King Publishers, Christchurch.

Born again Baptist bargain barn

Who would have thought a Bin Inn could have such a sacred past?

We definitely didn’t see the potential when we first arrived on site. Image: P. Mitchell, 2016.

But as is usually the case with archaeology, once the layers are peeled back, an entirely different story starts unveiling itself.

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The former 1940s Wholesale Groceries (CH.CH.) Ltd store, revealing a rather holy facade. Image: P. Mitchell, 2016.

In its glory days this bargain Bin Inn was in fact the sacred church of the Spreydon Baptist Church congregation. Back in 1880 the growth of the congregation’s membership called for a larger church to be built. The new church, seating 100 people, opened its doors in November 1881 (Burdon 2015: 8).

The congregation’s old church, built in 1867, was also moved to the site and by 1894 a school and minister’s house were also located on the 1 acre property (Star 7/8/1894: 3). However, by 1898 the church school was deemed inadequate, and the church building was in need of alterations and repairs. Christchurch architect Arthur Chidgey was contracted to design a new, larger classroom. A somewhat simple fix to improving the building’s condition was to rotate the church so that the entrance faced northwest, towards the road. It was also during this period that a new Gothic porch and front windows were added, as well as the infant room extended off the southwest elevation (Press 29/10/1898: 7).

The 1881 Baptist church showing the relocated older church on the left, and the 1898 infant room extended to the right of the church. Image courtesy of M. Ballantine.

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The curved ceiling of the original church exposed during demolition. Image: P. Mitchell, 2016

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Northeast elevation of church, showing the location of the original windows, which had been removed. Image: P. Mitchell, 2016.

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Northwest elevation of church, showing where the old schoolroom and 1898 infants’ room were once attached to the church by a lobby. Image: P. Mitchell, 2016.

During the foundation removal, we bizarrely came across two foundations stones, one dating from 1881 when the church was built, and the other from 1898 when the church was rotated. A historical newspaper article explained that Thomas Dixon relaid the foundation stone on 15 September 1898 to mark the commencement of these radical alterations to the church (Press 16/9/1898: 4).

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Foundation stone laid when the church was constructed. Image: P. Mitchell, 2016.

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The 1898 re-laid foundation stone found at the west end of northwest elevation’s foundations. Photo: P. Mitchell, 2016.

On the morning of 1 January 1904, a fire broke out at the church, completely destroying the men’s social club room located in the lean-to added in 1898 (Press 2/1/1904: 10).

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Southeast elevation of church showing evidence of the 1904 fire damage. Image: P. Mitchell, 2016.

In the early 20th century church membership began declining, and by 1947 the Canterbury Baptist Association recommended that a union be formed between the Lincoln Road church and the Lyttelton Street Baptist Church. In 1948 a new combined Spreydon Baptist Church was built and the decommissioned old Baptist church began it’s second life as a discounted grocers (Ward 2004: 4-5).

Francesca Bradley & Peter Mitchell

Sources

Burdon, M., 2015. “Old Addington: The Baptist Church”. Addington Times, July 2015: 8.

Press. [online] Available at: http://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz.

Star. [online] Available at: http://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz

Ward, K., 2004. “Against the Tide: Spreydon Baptist Church 1960 to 2000”. New Zealand Journal of Baptist Research 9: 1-50.

Making sense of it all

It is interesting to consider how we are influenced by an intangible map of our senses and emotions tied to our place in the world. We pay little attention to how we feel walking around a familiar neighbourhood, looking at an iconic heritage building in town, or going to a public event. Yet on any given day these experiences can be very different for each person. Which brings me to the topic of today’s blog post: phenomenology and heritage. It’s a bit of a mouthful, but bear with me, I shall explain.

We often take for granted how we easily navigate through the city. We know to walk on the pavement, where to park our cars, the correct entry and exit points in a building. We practice our manners and courtesies and grumble when others make social faux pas. We live in this environment, entertaining, navigating and living in and around buildings without so much as a second thought. Phenomenology is the study of how we understand and interact with our environment. It has its origins in the study of philosophy. Philosophers Kant, Husserl and Heidegger first defined and elaborated on the subject, and it has been expanded upon through many other studies. For more (light) reading on this, have a look at Wells’ website on phenomenology, which gives a very concise run down on a very heady subject.

If we were to think about the identity of Christchurch, words which spring to my mind are as follows English, earthquakes, gardens, heritage and traffic (Figure 1). Some of you might agree with them instantly, or disagree entirely, but how did I form this vision of Christchurch? My experience is based on my knowledge of history and stories, my activities and memories created here, and assumptions formulated in my youth. This personal memory bank (without delving into the psychological theory of memories) influences the decisions I make, both consciously and unconsciously.

By Roger Wong from Hobart, Australia (20100130-07-Christchurch Cathedral Square panorama) [CC BY-SA 2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

Figure 1. Panorama of Cathedral Square, prior to the earthquakes. Photograph by Roger Wong, via Wikimedia Commons

My interest is in how people interact with heritage spaces and buildings, particularly how we interpret these spaces when we visit and participate in activities within them. My experience is different to yours, his, hers and theirs. It is this idea of experience and interpretation that feeds into phenomenological studies. Heritage buildings can be controversial (see the cathedral). They are seen through many different lenses and different eyes. People want them propped up, or torn down, others couldn’t care less about them. This begs many questions: Are heritage buildings relevant, vibrant community spaces? Are they mere sad relics of a by-gone era? White elephants in a world of progress? What is the point in keeping them? What do they say to people? Can everyone read them?

In Christchurch and wider New Zealand, gothic architecture is an indicator of local and national identity. Where heritage buildings are preserved, there is an emphasis on identity and community, based on the idea that these buildings reflect where we came from and form a picture of the place. The Arts Centre (as it is now known) is a collection of buildings constructed between 1877 and 1965 to house the educational sector of Christchurch, including the University College, the boy’s and girl’s schools, and the music and arts colleges (Figure 2, Figure 3). This was the primary campus for education before the university was relocated to Ilam in the 1970s.

Figure 2. The Great Hall prior to the earthquakes. Photograph by Greg O'Beirne (Own work) [GFDL (http://www.gnu.org/copyleft/fdl.html), CC-BY-SA-3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/) or CC BY 2.5 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.5)], via Wikimedia Commons.

Figure 2. The Great Hall prior to the earthquakes. Photograph by Greg O’Beirne (Own work) , via Wikimedia Commons.

Bgabel at wikivoyage shared [GFDL (http://www.gnu.org/copyleft/fdl.html) or CC BY-SA 3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

Figure 3. The School of Art, prior to the earthquakes. Image: Bgabel at wikivoyage, via Wikimedia Commons

We have been involved with monitoring the strengthening and restoration project at the Arts Centre for several years. During our most recent work at the Arts Centre we found the remains of the ‘Tin Shed’ as it was nicknamed – the first science building constructed in Christchurch, built for the chemistry department, (Figure 5, Figure 6, Figure 7). The building was demolished in 1916, and it has largely been forgotten in history, except for a fleeting connection to Ernest Rutherford – who spent his formative years studying chemistry in the building. When we were recording the remaining piles and external foundations, I began to wonder – what do we value when it comes to our history? The archaeology in question was mostly removed, save for some sections of concrete foundations and a few piles that were able to be left in situ. This was a practical solution as the services were not able to be redirected and were vital to the endurance of the standing buildings (Figure 8). It was disappointing, but the above ground history is the most visible component of heritage and so is perceived as the principal component. This points to a dislocation from many parts of the story, especially the ordinary, unexciting bits. People aren’t campaigning to save drains or utilitarian buildings even if they are protected under our legislation. We have these magnificent buildings to symbolise our past and authenticate our identity. So where does the rest of the story and the archaeology fit in?

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The ‘Old Tin Shed’ , 1912. Source Strange 1994, p.7.

Figure 6. The remains of the tin shed found in 2015-2016 during archaeological monitoring. Image K. Webb and J. Hughes.

Figure 7. A section of the piles from the Old Tin Shed uncovered during 2015 monitoring. Image: J. Hughes.

Figure 8. The North Quad as it is seen June 2016. Image Source: The Arts Centre.

There are many studies that use phenomenology to explore the idea of place and history. Wells and Baldwin used two different neighbourhoods (one historic, the other a modern development) to examine what made the place feel “local” to the participants in the study (Figure 9, Figure 10, Wells and Baldwin, 2012). They used interviews and photographic survey to explore sense of place and feelings towards heritage. Where the character buildings of the suburbs were championed in the orthodox descriptions of the area, as defining the ‘feel’ or identity of the place, the participants came up with different answers. It wasn’t the buildings themselves that enhanced that neighbourhood, but the collective environment (warts and all). Walls, trees, and fountains became key for the identity of the place. The sense of place was reinforced by imaginative and taken for granted features.

I, Maveric149 [GFDL (http://www.gnu.org/copyleft/fdl.html), CC-BY-SA-3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/) or CC BY-SA 2.5-2.0-1.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.5-2.0-1.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

Figure 9. Historic Charleston homes. Image: I, Maveric149, via Wikimedia Commons

I'on streetscape 2008. Image: www.citydata.com

I’on streetscape 2008. Image: www.citydata.com

Other studies about museum and tourist experiences and even local views on neighbourhood identity tell a similar story: much of what we identify in our environment is unique to our own experience, memories and imagination (Hughey-Cockerall et al. 2014, Kowalczyk, 2014). Emotional attachment to a place validated it in the eyes of the visitors. Past and future events, small details and forgotten things are highlighted in this approach and point to the value of the experience.

You might argue being impartial and presenting a singular story means that it makes all experiences equal, making it enjoyable for all. But if you take the emotion out of the city it blocks our perception (positive or negative) and generates the apathy currently influencing discussions about Christchurch and heritage. Perhaps it is time for emotion to be dragged into the commercial sector and public engagement – shining a light on the ordinary things so that we get a broader picture. This means giving all avenues of evidence equal weight: subsurface archaeology, architecture and historical narratives and documents, and examining our attitudes towards it all.

Why should it matter? It matters in the sense that heritage buildings in Christchurch and wider New Zealand are always thought of in terms of value and mostly monetary value. With the focus on the dollar sign, are we losing some of the meaning when it comes to symbols of our past? Christchurch demonstrates that it is not simply a case of demolishing the “old dungers”. The desire to retain and use these buildings is admirable, and draws many sectors of the community. The impetus to redefine Christchurch and retain the heritage is at the heart of the rebuild efforts. There are many people concerned with taking back the identity of the city- so that everyone can feel at home or welcome. There should be more discussion about what makes Christchurch ‘Christchurch’. We should pay attention to what people feel when they walk down the street and into a building. We should study how we can enhance that. If we look at the work of Katie Pickles and Fiona Farrell – they have articulated what makes this city Christchurch, and how the earthquake has affected that. An articulated phenomenological approach would validate heritage buildings through the experience of a multitude of people. Such an approach would renegotiate the urban landscape into an inspiring, vibrant setting to live in.

Julia Hughes

Selected references

Farrell, Fiona, 2015. The Villa at the edge of the empire, one hundred ways to read a city. Vintage, Auckland.

Hughey-Cockerell, A., et al. 2014. Developing a sense of place in St Albans. Unpublished draft report for St Albans Residents Association. Accessed [online].

Kowalczyk, A., 2014. The phenomenology of tourism space. Turyzm 24 (1). Accessed [online] www.deepdyve.com

Pickles, K., 2016. Christchurch Ruptures. Bridget Williams Books Ltd, Wellington, New Zealand.

Strange, G., 1994. The Arts Centre of Christchurch, then and now. Clerestory Press Christchurch, N.Z.

Wells, J. C., & Baldwin, E. D. (2012). Historic preservation, significance, and age value: A comparative phenomenology of historic Charleston and the nearby new-urbanist community of I’On. Journal of Environmental Psychology, 32(4), 384-400.

Wikipedia, 2016. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/I%27On,_Mount_Pleasant,_South_Carolina

Whisky, that philosophic wine, that liquid sunshine

It is a well-known truth, in this office at least, that archaeology and whisky go well together. Or, perhaps more accurately, that archaeologists and whisky go well together. With a few exceptions (you know who you are, gin drinkers), it is not at all uncommon to find yourself in the company of an archaeologist with a fine appreciation for a single malt (or two, or three). With that in mind, it’s a bit of a wonder that we haven’t thought to write a blog post combining the two before now (honestly, archaeology and whisky are two of my favourite things, what were we thinking).

It won’t surprise any of our readers, I think, to hear that alcohol bottles are one of the most common artefacts we find on 19th century sites (here in Christchurch and throughout New Zealand). Despite the temperance movement in the late 19th century and the many discussions and testimonies about the evils of the demon drink, alcohol remained a popular product. As with the gin bottles we discussed a while back, however, it can be difficult to know exactly which types of alcohol were originally contained in these bottles – unless we have a label or embossing (and even then, these bottles were reused over and over again for a variety of products). Fortunately for this post, as it happens, we’ve been lucky enough to find a few examples that do have labels, each with their own story to tell about whisky consumption in Christchurch.

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“Black  beer” bottles of various sizes found in Christchurch. While a large number of these were probably used for beer, the larger quart sizes in particular would also have been commonly used for spirits like whisky and gin. Image: J. Garland.

Johnnie Walker.

Old Johnnie Walker. Established in Kilmarnock in the mid-19th century, John Walker (and then John Walker and Sons) has making whisky for far longer than some of you might be aware. It’s advertised in New Zealand newspapers throughout the latter decades of the 19th century. This particular bottle, found on a site in Rangiora, has been cut with a hot wire around the shoulder of the bottle to create a preserving jar out of the base (the jar like shape of the cut base would be used to store fruit or preserves and sealed with wax). Image: C. Dickson (left), Southland Times 16/04/1887: 4 (right).

Genuine pure whisky will never injure the system.

Advertisements for whisky in the 19th century were many and varied. This one, for Teacher and Sons, makes the oft-used claim that “Genuine pure whisky will never injure the system; it is the common inferior stuff which is the curse of the world.” Image: Akaroa Mail and Banks Peninsula Advertiser 3/06/1904: 2.

removing the drunk from whisky

In which an enterprising chemist with only the best of intentions claims to have removed the “drunk” from whisky, but not the exhilarating powers. Amazingly, his discovery doesn’t seem to have taken off. Image: Dunstan Times 30/08/1909: 2.

saucel-paisley

This label has a bit of a story behind it. We sent it off to the good folks at Whisky Galore, who managed to trace it to the Saucel distillery in Paisley, Scotland – one of the biggest distilleries of the late 19th century (apparently producing over a million gallons a year in the 1890s), but one that has now been completely erased from the landscape. The distillery was established c. the 1790s and continued through into at least the early 20th century (it was taken over by the Distiller’s Company in the early 1900s). It was bought by James Stewart and Co. in 1825 and, although it was resold in 1830 to Graham Menzies, continued to carry the Stewart name for quite some time. There are several advertisements to be found in New Zealand newspapers in the 1860s and 1870s for Saucel or ‘Stewart’s’ whisky from Paisley. Image: J. Garland (left), Taranaki Herald 05/03/1864: 4 (right).

squirrel whisky

Squirrel whisky! We do not recommend. Image: Tuapeka Times 8/07/1908: 1.

Kirkliston

Another old establishment, the Kirkliston distillery was established in 1795 in West Lothian, Scotland. It had a series of owners during the 19th century, including Andrew Stein, who installed a Stein continuous triple still, John Buchanan and Co. and, eventually, John Stewart and Co., who bought it in 1855. Stewart and Co. installed a Coffey still, taking the distillery back to large scale grain distilling rather than using pot-stills. John Stewart and Co., and the Kirkliston distillery, were one of the six Scottish whisky manufacturers who formed the Distillers Company in 1877 (see below!). The Kirkliston distillery was apparently also a large producer, with estimates of 700 000 gallons a year in the 1880s. It’s quite often mentioned in New Zealand newspapers, especially in the 1860s and 1870s. Image: (from top right down) C. Dickson, Press 4/01/1865: 2Otago Daily Times 1/09/1865: 1Press 16/11/1864: 5 and Dickson, C. (right).

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See? Whisky is totally medicinal. Image: New Zealand Herald 29/07/1925: 12. 

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Thom and Cameron may be the most common whisky manufacturer we’ve come across in the archaeological record (this is not to say that they were the most commonly consumed, just that their bottles may survive better in the ground that most). They were established in 1850 and had premises in Glasgow, although I’m not sure if this is where the distillery was or not. They made a variety of whiskies, including Glenroy, Rob Roy, Hawthorn, Old Highland Whisky, Special Reserve Whisky and, my personal favourite, Long John Whiskey (named after Ben Nevis whisky distiller John Macdonald, who was apparently quite tall). A description of their distillery in 1888 mentions “immense vats of American oak’, including some that held 10 000 gallons. Image: J. Garland (left), Press 03/10/1895: 1. 

Thom and Cameron

We also found the fragments of a Thom and Cameron jubilee whisky jug on a site on St Asaph Street last year. The jug, which depicts a particularly sour faced looking Victoria (she has definitely got her eye on you), would have been made in 1887 to celebrate Queen Victoria’s 50 years on the throne. Image: C. Dickson (left) and The Sale Room (right).

idle men need duff's whisky

Idle men need Duff’s whisky. Now you know. Image: Auckland Star 9/09/1933: 8.

Distiller's Company

This flask has a metal capsule seal with the mark of the Distillers Company Ltd, or D. C. L. These guys were formed in 1877 by six Scottish distilleries. By the early to mid-20th century, they had become one of the leading whisky (and pharmaceuticals) companies in Scotland. Image: J. Garland (left), Press 22/04/1916: 5. 

heddle leith

We don’t know much about this one, unfortunately. James Heddle was a whisky, gin and cordial manufacturer or distributor based in Leith, Scotland during the latter half of the 19th century. We have advertisements for his products in New Zealand during the 1870s, including for lime cordial, old tom gin and scotch whisky. Image: C. Dickson (left),  Wanganui Herald 16/05/1879: 4Press 22/03/1871: 4Press 13/01/1925: 10.

Occidental

As well as importing bottles of whisky, people imported casks and bottled the spirits here. This bottle label says “SCOTCH WHISKY, bottled in New Zealand by B. Perry, OCCIDENTAL HOTEL.” The Occidental was a well-known and well-loved establishment on Hereford Street in Christchurch that was still running until just before the earthquakes. Benjamin Perry, who was proprietor of the hotel during the late 19th and early 20th centuries, holds the distinction of being one of the only licensed victuallers in the city to never be in breach of his liquor license. We couldn’t find any specific reference to whisky being bottled at the hotel (although we did find other references to whisky at the hotel…), but we did find a notice in the paper in the 1910s advertising for washed whisky bottles, presumably for that very same purpose. Image: J. Garland (left), Sun 27/07/1918: 11 (top right), Press 17/01/1903: 8.

ruining the whisky punch

And, last but not least, whatever you do, don’t ruin the whisky punch with water. Image: Evening Star 23/01/1884: 2.

Jessie Garland

References

Papers Past. [online] Available at www.paperspast.natlib.govt.nz.

Townsend, B., 2015. Scotch Missed: The Original Guide to the Lost Distilleries of Scotland. Neil Wilson Publishing, England.

Picturing Christchurch

As a researcher for Underground Overground Archaeology, I spend my time searching written and visual sources for historical information on the sites the archaeologists are working on. The newspapers available on Papers Past are some of the best sources for rediscovering nineteenth-century Christchurch. Photographs, where they are available, offer additional layers of information not available in the written sources. As the saying goes, “A picture is worth a thousand words.” Christchurch City Libraries, Te Papa Tongarewa and the National Library of New Zealand  have many photographs of early Christchurch online. The website Early New Zealand Photographers and their Successors offers information on photographers and examples of their work.

We are indebted to amateur photographer Dr Alfred Charles Barker, immigrant on the Charlotte Jane in 1850 and the settlement’s doctor, for many of the views of the growing city. He photographed early buildings, local residents and Christchurch city streets. The Canterbury Museum holds a collection of his glass plate negatives, many of which are available to view online.

A number of professional photographers set up businesses in Christchurch during the nineteenth century, producing views of the city and as well as portraits of its inhabitants. The first professional photographer, John Crombie, arrived in 1857 from Auckland. In that year the Lyttelton Times announced that “Photography has broken out like an epidemic amongst us”:

Crombie only stayed for a few months, but by 1865 there were seven photographers operating in the city (The Southern Provinces Almanac, 1865). Over the next 25 years, Christchurch would be home to over 40 studios. Last year Christchurch Uncovered looked at Charles Lawrence who had a photography studio on Oxford Terrace.

There was a thriving market in the sale of photographic views of the new settlement. These were often posted to friends and relatives overseas to show the “improvements” of Christchurch. In 1880 the studio of Edmund Wheeler and his son Edmund Richard Wheeler advertised that they would mount photographs purchased from them into an album and send it free of charge (Star 12/4/1880: 1). Wheeler and Son was one of the longest-lived of Christchurch’s nineteenth-century establishments, operating for nearly 50 years. They set up on Colombo Street in 1865 and moved into Cathedral Square in 1880 where the business remained until 1914 when it went bankrupt (The Southern Provinces Almanac 1865; Star 12/4/1880: 1 and 9/6/1914: 5). Like other photographers, the studio’s main activity was taking portraits, and they produced thousands.

Unidentified woman, by E. Wheeler's Studio. Image: Toitū Otago Settlers Museum, Album 107.

Unidentified woman, by E. Wheeler’s Studio. Image: Toitū Otago Settlers Museum, Album 107.

During the 1870s they issued an album of photographs of Christchurch and other locations around the country, which they described as “one of the most complete yet made of New Zealand Views”:

Nearly 20 years later in 1896, Wheeler and Son, in partnership with the New Zealand Scenery Publishing & Co., issued “The Imperial Album of New Zealand Scenery,” another compilation of photographs taken around the country:

High Street, Christchurch, by Wheeler and Son. Image: The Imperial Album of New Zealand Scenery.

High Street, Christchurch, by Wheeler and Son. Image: The Imperial Album of New Zealand Scenery.

Other Christchurch photographers also produced images of the city. John Gaul, who set up on Colombo Street in 1872, advertised in 1873 that he had in stock over 100 views of Christchurch and vicinity taken by William Sherlock, who was working in Gaul’s studio at the time (H. Wise & Co. 1872-73: 230):

Sherlock’s Christchurch photographs had been described in glowing terms in the Star newspaper in 1872. His views of the Avon were touted as “perfect gems” and Sherlock’s talent as a photographer commended:

Christchurch’s bridges proved to be popular subjects for photographers, partly due to their scenic nature but also because they were a symbol of engineering and progress. The studio of Thomas Easter and Frank Wallis produced a carte de visite (small photograph mounted on card measuring 6.5 cm x 10 cm) of the Victoria Bridge:

Victoria Bridge, by Easter and Wallis. Image: Toitū Otago Settlers Museum, Box 85, No. 10.

Victoria Bridge, by Easter and Wallis. Image: Toitū Otago Settlers Museum, Box 85, No. 10.

Photographs of public buildings and churches like this one taken by Peter Niels Schourup were likewise very marketable:

Photographers from outside of Christchurch also produced views of the city. The Dunedin studio Burton Brothers visited Christchurch in the 1880s and took a number of photographs of the city’s buildings and streets:

A photograph they took of the intersection of Hereford Street and High Street features the Fisher building prominently in the centre. Christchurch Uncovered looked at the Reverend Thomas Richard Fisher several years ago.

Streetscapes such as this one of Oxford Terrace are valuable for researching nineteenth-century Christchurch buildings. The photograph shows Oram’s Royal Hotel in a high degree of detail, and even the hotel’s sign is clearly shown:

Detail of Oram's Royal Hotel.

Detail of Oram’s Royal Hotel.

Detail of Oram's Royal Hotel sign.

Detail of Oram’s Royal Hotel sign.

A Burton Brothers photograph of Hereford Street shows the building now known as Shand’s Emporium that has been recently moved to Manchester Street:

Detail of Shand's Emporium.

Detail of Shand’s Emporium.

In addition to buildings, we do a lot of research on Christchurch’s nineteenth-century roads and drainage. A photograph of “Colombo Road” in Sydenham, shows one of the channels that ran along the roadside to help combat the city’s drainage problems:

Detail of drainage channel alongside Colombo Road.

Detail of drainage channel alongside Colombo Road.

Unfortunately, only a small number of Christchurch’s streets and buildings were photographed during the nineteenth century, and thousands of the glass plate negatives from photography studios were lost during the First World War when glass was in short supply. Australian companies purchased them for as little as 3 pence per dozen, and one Auckland studio sold 6,000 of their negatives for the war effort (Press 29/5/1916: 6). A Sydney company visited Christchurch photography studios in 1916 and purchased a number of negatives of the old Canterbury identities.

Jill Haley

References

H. Wise & Co., 1878‐1979. Wises New Zealand Post Office Directories. Dunedin: H. Wise & Co.

Lyttelton Times [online] Available at www.paperspast.natlib.govt.nz. [Accessed September 2016].

Press [online] Available at www.paperspast.natlib.govt.nz. [Accessed September 2016].

Star [online] Available at www.paperspast.natlib.govt.nz. [Accessed September 2016].