“A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words” -Alfred Charles Barker and his photography

When it comes to researching properties and places around Christchurch, we historians review and compare a wide range of resources in order to figure out exactly what was happening there during the 19th century. By far one of the most valuable resources we have are photographs – as the saying goes: “A picture is worth a thousand words.” When it comes to early photographs of Christchurch, there is one man to whom we are forever indebted: Dr Alfred Charles Barker (1819-1873). So, this week on the blog we thought we would give a wee overview of Dr Barker’s life in Christchurch and some of the amazing photographs that make up his legacy.

Photograph of Alfred Charles Barker with his camera in 1864. Image:Canterbury Museum, 1864.

The Barker family arrived in Canterbury on board the Charlotte Jane in December 1850, and Dr Barker was among the first colonists to come ashore. Barker selected Town Sections 717 and 718 (located on the northeast corner of Worcester Street and Oxford Terrace) as the site for his family home. In preparation for the family’s departure to New Zealand, Barker had purchased a consignment of timber with which to build a dwelling. But upon his arrival in the colony, he found that his timber had been sold. As an alternative, Barker purchased the studding sail from the Charlotte Jane and used it to construct a dwelling for his family on Town Sections 717 and 718. This early dwelling was affectionately known as Studdingsail Hall. Barker did a good deal of sketching during his first years of settlement in Canterbury, and some of his earliest sketches provide views of the exterior and interior of Studdingsail Hall. The outdoor stove being tended by the women on the righthand side of the sketch is also believed to a cooking stove taken from the Charlotte Jane (MacDonald, 1952-1964: B124).

Sketch by Dr Barker in January 1851, showing the Barker family’s first dwelling ‘Studdingsail Hall’. Image: Alfred Barker, 1851.

The Barker family’s residence was in close proximity to Christchurch’s earliest public building, the Land Office, which was located on the opposite side of Oxford Terrace, where the Municipal Chambers building currently stands. As such, the Barker’s home witnessed a number of important public events in the history of the fledgling township. For example, when rural land was first made available for selection by the Canterbury pilgrims in February 1851, large crowds gathered around the Land Office building and the Barker family provided hospitality to those who gathered. The Lyttelton Times records:

Dr Barker’s tent, which stands immediately opposite the land office, and is constructed of an immense studding-sail, formerly belonging to the “Charlotte Jane,” was remarkable for its seasonable hospitality (Lyttelton Times, 22/2/1851: 5).

Dr Barker was Christchurch’s first doctor, making Studdingsail Hall Christchurch’s earliest medical surgery. His practice is known to have been innovative, with Dr Barker being an early adopter of chloroform as an anaesthetic during surgery, as well as designing and building his own steam bath (Turner, 1990). Barker’s tent does not appear to have remained long on the property before he replaced or converted it into a more substantial timber dwelling. A sketch drawn by Barker in December 1852, shows the Barker family’s timber dwelling standing on the corner of Oxford Terrace and Worcester Street.

Detail from a photograph of Alfred Barker’s 1852 sketch of Christchurch, showing the Barker family’s timber dwelling (red arrow). Image: New Zealand Graphic and Ladies Journal, 1897.

Dr Barker’s early sketches of Christchurch show his artistic side, but it was not until 1856-1857 that he discovered what would be his lifelong artistic passion: photography. It is not clear exactly when Barker was first introduced to photography, but he is believed to have been taught the art by his friend Benjamin Mountfort, who was himself advertising as a portraiture photographer from April 1857 (Lyttelton Times, 7/3/1857: 9; MacDonald, 1952-1964: B124). Photography itself appears to have begun to take off in Christchurch in 1857, with the Lyttelton Times proclaiming in May 1857:

Photography has broken out like an epidemic among us. Quite unknown in the place a year ago, we have now a professional artist well known in the northern provinces, and another on the point of coming; two students practising the art, and, we believe, one amateur. Canterbury will now be able to look itself straight in the face (Lyttelton Times, 9/5/1857: 7).

It is possible that Dr Barker was the ‘amateur’ mentioned by the Lyttelton Times, but despite his amateur status, Barker appears to have been infatuated with the artform and began dedicating much of his time to his new hobby. It did not take long for Dr Barker to start losing interest in his medical practice, and by the end of 1858 he had given it up entirely (Turner, 1990). As photography had only just reached Christchurch in 1857, he had to get creative to obtain the equipment he needed. He is said to have built a camera from a tea chest lined with paper and with a lens barrel made from a large empty pill box whose lid was used as a combined lens hood and shutter (Early Canterbury Photography, 2008). When he couldn’t get his hands on the glass he required, he was known to cut panes of glass from his windows to make wet plates, and when he couldn’t get hold of the necessary gold and silver salts used in the photographic process, he use to melt down sovereigns, silverware, and cutlery to make his own (MacDonald, 1952-1964: B124). He even cut his own paper and treated it with egg white (Early Canterbury Photography, 2008). Many of Barker’s early photographs are domestic images – portraiture of his family and friends around his home and garden – and so he constructed a dark room in his home on Worcester Street in which to develop these domestic images (Turner, 1990).

Photograph of the Barker family playing croquet at their home in Worcester Street in the 1860s. Image: Alfred Barker, 1860s.

Photograph looking west along Worcester Street in 1872, showing Dr Alfred Barker’s house. Image: Alfred Barker, 1872.

It was not long before Dr Barker began to adventure out to take photographs around the Christchurch township and further afield. As the wet plate process required the images to be developed almost immediately after taking the photograph, he constructed a four wheeled buggy with a dark room on the back so that he could develop his plates wherever he might be. One story told is that when Barker was processing photographs in his mobile dark room in Sumner, the horse was startled and took off with him trapped inside. When the horse was finally recovered, he emerged looking like a Dalmatian dog covered with blotches of nitrate of silver (MacDonald, 1952-1964: B124).

Photograph of Dr Alfred Charles Barker and his homemade photographic trap in April 1869. Image: Alfred Barker, 1869.

Photograph of Dr Alfred Charles Baker at Cave Rock in Sumner with his photographic trap in 1867. Image: Alfred Baker, 1867.

Dr Barker’s extensive portfolio of photographs taken throughout his life has become a significant source of information for researching early Canterbury. Some of his most valuable images are the early photographs of Christchurch, which show how much the settlement has grown from a small timber township to a thriving city.

Photograph looking northeast towards the Victoria Street bridge in 1860. Image: Alfred Barker, 1860.

Photograph looking south over Cathedral Square on Market Day in 1871. Image: Alfred Barker, 1871.

Photograph looking along High Street in 1872, Image: Alfred Barker, 1872.

Dr Barker died at his Worcester Street residence in March 1873 (Lyttelton Times, 21/3/1873: 3). Shortly after his death, the Barker family moved away from the property, and the family’s household furniture and goods were sold off (Lyttleton Times, 16/4/1873: 4). Dr George Lilly Mellish temporarily took up occupation in Barker’s former premises, but in July 1878 the trustees of Barker’s estate decided to remove the house from the property (Press, 2/7/1878: 4). Dr Barker’s house was purchased for removal by Mr. Furhmann in July 1878, and was finally removed from the section in February 1879 (Lyttelton Times, 20/2/1879: 4; Press, 19/7/1878: 2). A photograph taken from the spire of the Cathedral in early 1881, shows Dr Barker’s former property after the removal of his house and garden.

Photograph looking west from the Cathedral’s spire in 1881 showing no buildings present on Dr Barker’s former property. Image: Wheeler and Son, 1881.

While Dr Barker’s photographs are an amazing resource for researchers today, they are not the only material left behind by photographers for us to view. The photographic process requires all manner of equipment, chemicals, and other sundries in order to produce an image, and these items also come to form part of the material culture of early Christchurch. Unfortunately to date, we have not encountered any of Dr Barker’s photographic equipment, but our archaeologists have encountered other examples of photograph material from time to time.

When excavating a site occupied by Mr Samuel Charles Louis Lawrence, photographer, in Oxford Terrace in 2013, out team encountered the usual material culture relating to Lawrence’s occupation of the property in the 1860s and 1870s: tea and table wares, food containers, alcohol bottles, personal hygiene items, pharmaceutical bottles, smoking pipes and shoes. But among these typical items, our team also found evidence of Lawrence’s photographic pursuits – a bottle made by R. W. Thomas who made all manner of chemicals and other sundries used in the practice of photography  – Check out the full blog on Lawrence’s site here.

R. W. Thomas bottle from the site on Oxford Terrace. R. W. Thomas operated as a photographic merchant from 1851 until 1894, becoming R. W. Thomas & Co. and then R. W. Thomas & Co. Ltd in the 1880s. Thomas sold all manner of photographic equipment, from dry plates, dark tents and cameras to the chemicals and products necessary for the development of the photographs. Image: J. Garland.

When excavating a well in Invercargill’s CBD a few years ago, our New Zealand Heritage Properties partners encountered a wide range of photographic equipment relating to a photographic studio which occupied the site during the early 20th century. The material includes parts of a wooden camera, bottles which held ink, glue, lubricating oil (possibly for the camera parts), and mascara (theorised to have been used for editing photographs as Victorian and Edwardian formulas generally consisted of coal and petroleum jelly, providing a thicker consistency than many inks), and glass plates (Check out the excavation here).

Timber camera components. (A) front and back of handmade camera component. (B) shutter mechanism closed (left) and open (right). (C) part of shutter mechanism. (D) front standard. (F) bone page turner/spatula. Image: N. Woods.

Selection of photography related glass vessels and blank plates in two sizes and materials (glass and porcelain). Bottles clockwise from top left: oval cross section bottle, ink, square cross section bottle, perfume/mascara bottle, cobalt blue chemical bottle top and small phial. Image: N. Woods.

Photography came early to Christchurch, with a number of studios being established from 1857. But one of the earliest and most dedicated amateur photographers was Dr Alfred Charles Barker, who took numerous shots around Canterbury between 1857 and 1873. His legacy of photographs is one of the most valuable resources we have to view early Christchurch, and we researchers are forever indebted to him. Thousands of his photographs are available to view on the Canterbury Museum website and we encourage you to check them out! But it is not just the photographs themselves which our early photographers have left behind, but also a unique material culture of photographic equipment that we are looking forward to uncovering more of in the future.

Lydia Mearns

A man named Wuzerah

Much of the historical information we have available about 19th century Canterbury was written by and about individuals with access to property, resources, money, time, and influence. In this blog post I want to look at an individual who didn’t have access to any of these things and look at two things. Firstly, what was his story? And secondly, how and why was that story told?

The small and unassuming newspaper reference that inspired this blog. Originally, I was going to write on the Cashmere Drains Historic Area, but when you live in a city that was very very proud of its English roots when it came to naming geographic things (I’m looking at you nearly every single street in Central Christchurch), a name like Wuzerah’s Drain stands out. And so, down the rabbit hole I went. Image: Lyttelton Times 11/5/1877: 3.

The man at the centre of this blog was called, or at least referred to in historical sources, as Wuzerah. The name Wuzerah means minister or butler (Drury 2016: 28), indicating his name could have been either a personal name or a work title. Wuzerah, title or name, is spelt in a variety of ways in the primary historical sources, including Wazero, Wizzero and Wiggers (Press 23/3/1941; Press 24/10/1927: 15). Sometimes Wuzerah is referred to with the identifier ‘a Mahomedan’, ‘Moosalman’, or even just as ‘Indian Natives’ or ‘Hindoos’, and the connection between the article and the man is only made clear by reference to his employer (Drury, 2016: 28; Lyttelton Times 9/7/1859: 5; Press 8/10/1869: 3; Star 9/12/1886: 3; Press 11/12/1886: 1). Europeans had a poor grasp on ethnic or religious distinctions of these groups at the time, and these terms are often used to lump together disparate peoples. Wuzerah and his family were Indian, and were possibly Afghan-Pashtun folk, based on the etymology of Wuzerah’s names and the names of his eldest sons, Pero and Mero (Drury, 2016: 28). Wuzerah’s sons took his first name as their last name, which is a traditional Muslim custom.

Wuzerah came to New Zealand, with his wife Mindia and his two eldest sons, under the employ of Cracroft Wilson in 1854. Wuzerah was a member of the Indian workforce that Cracroft Wilson employed in the creation of what is now known as the Cashmere Drains Historic Area,and on his large Cracroft Estate. Most of what we know about Wuzerah is framed in and around his employer, who was a significant and powerful individual within early colonial society in Canterbury (we have another blog on Cracroft Wilson here). Unlike Cracroft Wilson, we don’t have an entry in Te Ara to tell us who Wuzerah was and what his life in early Christchurch was like. Instead, we have to use legal records: court records, coroner’s inquest reports, records of accidents, deaths, and sometimes donations, available to us through historic newspaper records, to try and piece together his story. This often doesn’t build a very detailed or personal view of individual lives, but sometimes enough details are recorded to give an impression of someone’s life.

Wuzerah first appears in historical records by name in 1858, when he charged Goordeen, another Indian man employed by Cracroft Wilson, with larceny (Lyttelton Times 13/03/1858: 4). Drury (2016: 29) notes that Wuzerah was the first Muslim man involved in a court case in New Zealand, indicated by the article reporting that Wuzerah and Goordeen were sworn into the court on an English translation of the Qur’an (spelt ‘Koran’ in the article). Wuzerah brought a case against Goordeen (also spelled Goorden in the same article), another servant of Wilson’s who attempted to steal his purse and Mindia’s necklace while they slept. Wuzerah tied up Goorden and took him to the Magistrate’s Court in Lyttelton on a charge of larceny. A Mr P. Ashton acted as interpreter for both Wuzerah and Goorden, since neither of them spoke English (Lyttelton Times 13/03/1858: 4). The article states that Cracroft Wilson and his overseer Mr Irvine were called on the side of the prisoner Goorden, and that his account differed greatly from Wuzerah’s account under examination. Goorden claimed to have gone to Wuzerah’s house for a light and woke Mindia to ask permission. The charge against Goorden was dismissed, and it was assumed by the court that the charge was laid against Goorden for an old grudge between him and Wuzerah. It must have been some grudge that made Wuzerah capture Goorden, walk him over the Port Hills to Lyttelton, and pursue a charge against him in a court system where he did not speak the official language, with his employer advocating for the accused.

Wuzerah next appeared in the historical record for a 10-shilling donation to the ‘Indian Relief Fund’, which was established to provide aid to British colonists that were affected by the Sepoy Mutiny of 1857 (Lyttelton Times 8/5/1858; Drury, 2016: 35). He was identified as “a Mahommedan” in the article, which could be read as either a point of interest or an identifier in place of a last name. A search of other newspaper articles in the same years referencing ‘Mahomedan’, ‘Mahometan’ and ‘Mussulman’ show othering and racist narratives where Muslims were framed as a foreign other, and Wuzerah’s identifier here likely continues in this vein. We have another blog on the Sepoy Mutiny, which you can read more of here. Wuzerah’s donation to the Indian Relief Fund is an indication that he disagreed with the revolt, or possibly as an expression of support for his employer, who was in India at the time working with British forces to put down the revolt (Ogilvie, 2009: 235). Wuzerah’s choice to donate to the fund, and to include his name on the donation list can be read as an act of agency. Cracroft Wilson was not known for generous wages, and Wuzerah’s choice to publicly donate money to the fund indicates that he used resources available to him to publicly express his views.

Donation list to the Indian Relief Fund. The Indian Relief Fund was created to support British colonists who suffered under the Sepoy revolt, and Wuzerah’s donation here likely indicates disapproval with the mutiny. Image: Lyttelton Times 8/5/1858: 5.

Wuzerah returned to the courts in 1859 on a charge of larceny issued by his employer (Lyttelton Times 9/7/1859: 5; Lyttelton Times 3/9/1859: 4; Lyttelton Times 7/9/1859: 4). Cracroft Wilson charged Wuzerah with stealing tools and a copper boiler from his estate. Phillip Ashton once again interpreted for Wuzerah, and two other witnesses spoke on his behalf: Gunga Ram and Bhowanee Singh. Cracroft Wilson accused Wuzerah of stealing multiple tools and the copper boiler, and located these items in Wuzerah’s house after it was searched. Wuzerah was recorded as saying the following “The things are all yours, take them and forgive me” (Lyttelton Times 3/9/1859: 4). Phillip Ashton, when asked about this wording explained that this was a figurative form of apology used in India rather than an explicit admission of guilt. Here the Lyttelton Times notes that “several other witnesses were called whose evidence was of a conflicting character” but “The hour at which the report reached us precludes us giving any further details” (Lyttelton Times 3/9/1859: 4).

Both Gunga Ram and Bhowanee Singh testified that the tools were in Wuzerah’s possession before they left India, and that the boiler had been given to Wuzerah by Mrs Wilson more than four years beforehand. Mrs Wilson and others of the estate denied this claim (Lyttelton Times 7/9/1859: 4) The court ruled in Wilson’s favour and found Wuzerah guilty. A small note at the bottom of this report notes that a second charge of larceny was brought against Wuzerah, but “the case was of so trifling a character that we reserve our available space for a more interesting matter”. This indicates that Wilson evidently bought multiple charges against Wuzerah. If it seems a little odd that man as powerful and influential as Cracroft Wilson would bring multiple charges against a man under his employ for supposedly stealing a copper boiler and tools which he used as part of his employment, it is. Regardless of whether Wuzerah was telling the truth, and two witnesses speaking on his behalf definitely support this, Cracroft Wilson had the means and ability to handle this matter internally on his estate. Instead, he dragged Wuzerah through a months long court process, which Cracroft Wilson knew would result in publication of Wuzerah’s name with the offence, and then won the case against Wuzerah. Cracroft Wilson made an example of Wuzerah and punished whatever perceived transgression with institutional power structures.

The Old Stone House was built to house Cracroft Wilson’s Indian workers, and it’s possible Wuzerah lived here at one stage. This photo shows Old Stone House in a neglected state with farm implements outside, Cashmere, Christchurch. Williams, Edgar Richard, 1891-1983: Negatives, lantern slides, stereographs, colour transparencies, monochrome prints, photographic ephemera. Ref: 1/4-097560-F. Alexander Turnbull Library, Wellington, New Zealand. /records/30634110

The next record of the Wuzerah family is a coroner’s inquest into the death of Pero Wuzerah (Lyttelton Times 5/11/1862: 4). Pero slipped crossing a footbridge over the Heathcote and drowned in the river. The article notes that another boy fell into the river at the same spot within the same week but was rescued by his father. Interestingly, Pero Wuzerah is referred to as “the son of one of the Mahomedan natives of India employed by Cracroft Wilson” whereas the other child is referred to as “a son of Mr Jas. T. Fisher”. This difference in identification between Wuzerah and Mr Fisher is a clear contrast: Wuzerah is referred to as a nameless employee of Cracroft Wilson, whereas Fisher is identified by name and honorific.

The next mention of Wuzerah involves yet another court experience for charges issued by Cracroft Wilson. Cracroft Wilson brought charges against Wuzerah for the cost of £38 9s 3d in 1873 (Press 8/5/1873: 3). The reason for this quite hefty charge is indicated in a Star article months later, which recounts a meeting held by Cracroft Wilson for his constituents as the member for the Heathcote District in the House of Representatives (Star 21/10/1873: 2). A tax of £1 per household had been issued for education purposes, which Wuzerah had apparently neglected to pay. Cracroft Wilson, as the advocate for this particular tax, brought charges against Wuzerah for non-payment of this tax. Cracroft Wilson tells his constituents that Wuzerah, identified in this article only as ‘the Mahomedan’, said in Hindostanee [sic] that “he would not pay for nothing and that he would therefore send his boys to school”. The implication for Wuzerah’s statement is that if he had to pay the tax, then he would be sending his sons to school to benefit from that education funding. Cracroft Wilson, known for paying remarkably low wages, publicly charged Wuzerah with a hefty £38 fine for failing to pay an education tax of £1 that he politically championed. This charge by Cracroft Wilson is not only hefty and punitive but used here to make a political statement to reinforce Cracroft Wilson’s political convictions.

Cracroft Wilson was a Member of the House of Representatives and heavily involved in politics. One of his more controversial acts was the 1865 Masters and Servants Bill, designed to provide legislative guidelines  for disputes between masters and servants. Unsurprisingly, given Cracroft Wilson’s wealth and status as well as it being well known that he employed Indian servants, he was heavily critiqued for introducing legislation that would personally benefit him. In this satirical comic the master is likely Cracroft Wilson. Image: Punch in Canterbury (Periodical), 1865. Punch in Canterbury: What may come of the Masters and Servants Bill. Original question. “That a disobedient servant be imprisoned.” Mr Punch’s Amendment. “That a master, if he misconduct himself, shall be liable to hard labour.” Punch in Canterbury, 19 August,1865. Ref: A-315-967. Alexander Turnbull Library, Wellington, New Zealand. /records/22336950

Wuzerah was evidently familiar with the court system following his initial experiences, and brought charges against a William Harges in 1869, and a Lane in 1885 (Press 8/10/1869: 3; Star 7/10/1885: 3). Wuzerah was charged by a J. Sheriff in 1875 and a return charge was issued by Lane in 1885 (Lyttelton Times 18/11/1875: 3; Lyttelton Times 22/10/1885: 3). The only charges named are those to and from Lane, issued by Wuzerah for cartage, and returned by Lane for repairs to a dray (Star 7/10/1885: 3; Lyttelton Times 22/10/1885: 3). For every charge Wuzerah was involved in, brought by him or accused, the court finds in his opponent almost every time, except for the charge brought by J. Sheriff, where Cracroft Wilson speaks in support of Wuzerah. Appearances in court were not unusual in the 19th century, but Wuzerah didn’t speak English very well. Taking people to court in an unfamiliar language is a pretty bold move, especially when the legal system didn’t often rule in his favour.

Wuzerah also went to court for his youngest son Noora. Noora (written as “Noer alias Noorwa”) was charged for putting stones on railway tracks, which could have resulted in a serious accident (Star 24/6/1874: 2). Wuzerah testified before the court that he had already punished the boy, and that he would pay a £20 bond as security to ensure the boy’s good conduct in the future (Star 24/6/1874: 2). There is a ‘recognizance of the peace’ file under the name Wuzeera [Wuzerah] in 1874, possibly for this same bond payment (; Drury, 2016: 32).

As previously mentioned, Wuzerah was part of the workforce employed by Cracroft Wilson to dig the historic drains network that was required to drain large sections of Cashmere (Ogilvie, 2009: 235). An advertisement in the Lyttelton Times called for tenders to deepen the Cashmere River from “Wuzeerah’s Drain to Promontory Bridge (Lyttelton Times 11/05/1877: 3). It Is likely that Wuzerah was part of the Indian workforce employed by Cracroft Wilson to dig this drain network, hence his name associated with a portion of the drain. Mero Wuzerah was injured in a dray accident in 1879 and was treated in Christchurch Hospital (Lyttelton Times 9/9/1879: 4). Mero must have made a full recovery, for he and his father were involved in an incident in 1886 where they were accused of “illegally rescuing cattle” from a ranger to the Halswell Road Board. The charge was dismissed since the ranger didn’t produce identification and neither Wuzerah nor Mero kept the cattle (Star 9/12/1886: 3). A return charge was issued to the ranger for assaulting Wuzerah, but this charge was also dismissed (Star 9/12/1886: 3). It’s not clear whether violence was a common part of Wuzerah’s life based on the information available, but the court ruling against him in charges certainly seemed to be.

Wuzerah spent his later years on a cottage on the corner of Cashmere and Valley Roads, which was provided by Cracroft Wilson’s estate following his death in 1881 (Drury, 2016: 32; Ogilvie, 1978: 132)

Port Hills of Christchurch map with ‘Indians Cottage’ and ‘Old Stone House’ marked with circles. The ‘Indians Cottage’ marked on the map is probably not Wuzerah’s, as his reported house location is shown with a yellow circle. Image: Ogilvie, 1978: 132.

Wuzerah appears to have run a cartage business with a team of bullocks following release from Cracroft Wilson’s employment (Drury, 2016: 32-33; Ogilvie, 2009: 238). Wuzerah apparently favoured two bullocks named ‘Baldy’ and ‘Smuggler’, and James Sutherland recalled that when asked why he always used the same pair he replied “They go quick run it” (Ogilvie, 2009: 238). The Star reported that Wuzerah was one of a team of bullock drivers employed to cart stone into Christchurch for the construction of the Christchurch Cathedral (Star 1/5/1902: 3).

Christchurch Cathedral under construction, late 1879-early 1880. The stone visible in the foreground was locally sourced and transported by bullock teams run by folk like Wuzerah. Ref: 1/2-022786-F. Alexander Turnbull Library, Wellington, New Zealand. /records/23063747

Wuzerah passed away from heart disease on 30 April 1902, and his death notice was published across New Zealand as far as Auckland, Otago, and Wanganui (Press 2/5/1902: 6; Star 1/5/1902: 3; Auckland Star 2/5/1902: 5; Otago Witness 7/5/1902: 30; Wanganui Herald 2/5/1902: 2). A small memorial to Wuzerah and another Indian servant Kulloo, who died the same year, was installed in Sydenham Cemetery by the Cracroft Wilson Family (Star 22/8/1902: 3; Drury, 2016: 34). The memorial was broken by vandals and restored by the Cracroft Community Centre between 1985 and the early 2000s (Press 2/12/1985: 17; Press 18/7/2009: D9; Drury, 2016: 34).


Wuzerah’s death notice in the Star (Wuzerah’s name is spelt Bezire in this article). Source: Star 1/5/1902: 3.

This blog may have given the impression that Wuzerah was a relatively unknown individual from the 19th century, but that’s not quite true. A quick Google search of his name will return 832 results, and his experiences are cited in nearly every publication on the history of Muslim settlement in New Zealand. Wuzerah’s identity was treated as a point of interest by his contemporaries, evident in the creation of a memorial for both Wuzerah and Kulloo in the Sydenham Cemetery, and the publication of his death notice in newspapers across New Zealand. This focus is continued by the restoration and repairs to Wuzerah and Kulloo’s gravestone in the 1980s by the Cracroft Community Centre (Press 27/11/1985: 59; 4/3/1986: 8). Wuzerah was the subject of academic interest in the 20th and 21st century as the first documented Muslim living in New Zealand (which isn’t quite true either, see Drury, 2016: 17-18 and Singh, 2016: 65-69). There was a renewed media interest in early Muslim experiences in Canterbury following the Christchurch terror attacks in 2019, and Wuzerah’s story was retold to indicate historical experiences of Muslims in Canterbury (you can read a couple of examples here and here).

From the 19th century to the present day, Wuzerah’s legacy is drawn solely from his identity as the first Muslim settler to live in New Zealand. Readers of the newspaper clippings and snippets of his life might get a sense that he had a hard life in Canterbury as the first Muslim settler, as one of very few Indian employees to stay on following the completion of his indenture period. Wuzerah was treated unfairly by his employer, he was mistreated by the legal system, newspapers spelt his name wrong constantly, even in his death notice. But these mentions of Wuzerah during and after his lifetime were utilised by newspapers, community groups, media outlets and other platforms (this blog included) because he is known as the first Muslim to settle in New Zealand, rather than any choices he made or actions he took of his own volition. Potentially the only record available that indicates Wuzerah’s personal views or choices is the donation record to the Indian Relief Fund in 1858, which either indicated support for his employer in India, or disapproval of the Sepoy Revolt. Other people have made choices about Wuzerah’s story and have created a significant legacy around his identity. Cracroft Wilson chose to make an example of Wuzerah during his lifetime to reinforce his status as a landowner and as a politician, and Wuzerah’s story continued to be used as an example of early Muslim experiences long after his death. Cracroft Wilson had the opportunity and choices to create his own legacy in the colonisation of Canterbury, which is embedded in almost every aspect of the history of Christchurch. If Wuzerah had choice and opportunity available to him, perhaps he would have chosen to present his legacy differently.

Photograph of Wuzerah and Kulloo’s restored grave. Image: Alistair McGowan, 2023. 

Neda Bawden

References

Drury, A. M. 2016. Once Were Mahometans: Muslims in the South Island of New Zealand, mid-19th to late 20th century, with special reference to Canterbury. Masters Thesis, University of Waikato.

Ogilvie, G. 1978. The Port Hills of Christchurch. Wellington, Sydney, London: A. H. & A. W. Reed.

Ogilvie, G. 2009. The Port Hills of Christchurch. Christchurch. N.Z.: Philips & King.

Singh, H. 2016. From Guru Nanak to New Zealand: Mobility in the Sikh Tradition

Field Notes

Have you ever sat down and thought about how and where archaeologists record all that information they observe on site and what happens to those records after they’re done? Actually… you probably haven’t, but I’m going to talk about it anyway.

Most of the information recorded on site is collected as field notes. Field notes and field books contain the raw data collected in the field, and are the legacies of archaeological excavation. Archaeologists refer to these notes when writing reports and making observations on different features and sites. To some extent, they are a daily diary that records the results of excavations, surveys and other forms of archaeological monitoring and contain the initial interpretations and other general observations made in the field. Field notes can include data collected on preprinted forms, details scrawled in notebooks, frantic sketches on scrap paper, hurriedly typed notes in work phones or beautiful carefully drawn scale diagrams on graph .

An example of a scale diagram drawn on site. This one is a plan view of a brick barrel drain.

A quick Google of archaeological field notes will bring up numerous images of pages scanned from various field books all around the world. These are often immaculate examples of perfectly drawn diagrams or beautifully calligraphed notes that look like they are straight off someone’s Pinterest inspiration board and proudly displayed as a part of an archaeological exhibit. The reality of field notes is that they are much more varied and not necessarily pretty. Not every writer in the field records information in a way that you would expect them to as the Smithsonian Institution Archives identified during their Field Book Project. Lockshin and Benett (2018) observed; “Aside from hoarding and creative reuse of material, another strategy of the thrifty writer that may create media legibility issues is the technique of cross writing, self-annotating, and/or use of the field book in reverse orientation from back to front, which can cause headaches for the most attentive user trying to work out the beginning from the end”. I can even think of examples where I have written around the edge or upside down in the corner of a page to further articulate a point while running out of .

A creative use of space by this archaeologist, with their notes encasing their sketch map.

While in this form, the archaeologists utilises both portrait and landscape views to maximise space.

Scribbles in a notebook from a slow day on site. Pages like these provide an insight into the mind of the archaeologist and what the fieldwork was like on that day.

Every archaeologist will, at some point, work with someone else’s field notes. In fact, while I was procrastinating writing my MA thesis in 2021, I went on a bit of a deep dive into numerous papers on the subject. These either lamented or celebrated how legacies of ‘historic’ fieldnotes are used in archaeology and what sorts of information they can add to future research studies. It was slightly (mostly) off-topic… but I’m sure it gave me a broad background perspective and certainly mentally prepared me for working as an archaeologist. One of the papers even interviewed various archaeologists’ regarding their experiences working with other people’s field notes and what they wished their co-workers had included instead (Faniel et al., 2013). However, the most interesting of these studies focused on how re-examinations of original field notes have the potential to highlight assumptions that underpin how archaeological data is interpreted to this day at even some of the most prominent sites across the world (e.g. Ellis, S.J.R. (2008), Ellis et al., (2008), Boozer (2015), MacFarland and Vokes (2016) and Wylie (2017)).

I personally argue that the field notes themselves should always be considered an important part of the archaeological legacy collections. ‘Published’ archaeological writing often conceals the inconsistencies of archaeology by erasing the ambiguities characteristic of tangible archaeological evidence (Gero, 2007). The field notes help highlight the ambiguities so that we can account for them in future interpretations. They provide all of the non-artefactual information recorded about archaeological sites which have been reduced, or destroyed outside of a published report.

“no idea what else this might be – definitely not a soak pit”

Most of the ‘historic’ field notes housed in the Underground Overground Archaeology (UOA) office are contained within the yellow, Rite in the Rain ALL WEATHER METRIC FIELD No 360F hardback notebooks. These notebooks are celebrated for their near indestructibility, especially in wet weather, and have been used for field research in many areas since the early 20th century.  The UOA collection is housed on a shared bookshelf with the date and the initials of the notetaker recorded on the spine.

The archived yellow field books.

Notes in these journals range from journal-like diary entries to bullet-pointed notes and annotated sketches.

An example of field notes written with bullet-pointed notes.

An example of field notes written in ‘journal’ style with drawings and a torn page.

Another example of field notes written in full in a ‘journal’ style.

For larger projects, field notes have been recorded on forms. These are meant to provide reliability in how the information about archaeology is recorded in the field. Forms achieve this by prompting archaeologists to record key attributes about the feature in the interest of ensuring nothing is accidently forgotten. They also offer a clear structure and consistent terms that should (in theory) make writing archaeological report simpler.

Forms such as context, bag and photo registers also assist in the handover of information between archaeologist on site as they allow for information to be quickly summarised at the end of each day. Yet even forms experience somewhat interpretative use, and everyone still finds ways to make them their own.

An example of a context register that helps different archaeologists to know what was last recorded on site.

A blank context record form example.

The environment can also play a role in the legibility of notes, whether that be from trying to write with near frozen fingers on a freezing winter morning or water and dirt covering pages on a particularly muddy site.

An abused field book – the realities of working on site.

A bonus examples with various drawings. This shows a general (not to scale) plan of a project area.

Here at Underground Overground Archaeology, field notes are digitised before the physical copies (either in the form of Yellow Field Books, or binders full of paper forms) are archived for future inspection within our office as part of an ever-growing internal library. Collections of archaeological field notes exist in thousands of repositories worldwide with the intention that they will be able to provide data for and add valuable information to current and future archaeological and heritage studies. They provide data for a critical examination of commonly held assumptions about the past drawn from past research. They are unique, vibrant, (sometimes nearly illegible), windows into the minds of individual archaeologists providing information about their thoughts and processes on site alongside essential insights about the archaeology. Archaeological data is messy, and a strong understanding of the original assumptions and goals of the research that produced an assemblage is often required to critically apply it to new research. Relevant documents that clarify how the archaeological material and artefacts were initially collected are needed to address this meaningfully. I hope this blog encourages you to love field notes as much as I do.

Amy Tuffnell

All fieldnote examples contained within this blog are sources from within the Underground Overground Archaeology internal archive. I would like to thank everyone from the office for the suggestions and contributions.

References

Boozer, A. L. (2014). The tyranny of typologies: evidential reasoning in Romano-Egyptian domestic archaeology. In Material evidence (pp. 112-130). Routledge.

Ellis, S. J. (2008). The use and misuse of ‘legacy data’ in identifying a typology of retail outlets at Pompeii’. Internet Archaeology, 24: 450-457.

Ellis, S. J., Gregory, T. E., Poehler, E. E., & Cole, K. (2008). Integrating legacy data into a new method for studying architecture: a case study from Isthmia, Greece. Internet Archaeology: 24.

Faniel, I., Kansa, E., Whitcher Kansa, S., Barrera-Gomez, J., & Yakel, E. (2013). The challenges of digging data: a study of context in archaeological data reuse. In Proceedings of the 13th ACM/IEEE-CS joint conference on Digital libraries, (pp.295-304).

Lockshin, Nora S. and Bennett, R. William, III. (2018). Smudges, Snakeskins, and Pins, Oh My!Book and Paper Group Annual. 37:125–142.https://repository.si.edu/handle/10088/97808

MacFarland, K., & Vokes, A. W. (2016). Dusting Off the Data: Curating and Rehabilitating Archaeological Legacy and Orphaned Collections. Advances in Archaeological Practice, 4(2), 161-175. https://doi.org/10.7183/2326-3768.4.2.161

Rite in the Rain – History, 2023 September 14, https://www.riteintherain.com/rite-in-the-rain-history

Wylie, A. (2016). How Archaeological Evidence Bites Back: Strategies for Putting Old Data to Work in New Ways. Science, Technology, & Human Values, 42(2), 203-225. https://doi.org/10.1177/0162243916671200

 

 

 

 

Milsom, Mace and More

Today’s blog is the start of a three-piecer on one of Christchurch’s earliest aerated water factories, once located on St Asaph Street. Now we have written plenty of blogs about aerated waters in the past (see here, here, and here) so we won’t cover much of the general information on the industry. Instead, we will start by diving into the history of Milsom and Mace, two big fish in the pond of aerated waters, before getting into the archaeology discovered on site in our next blog. So, settle in with a glass of your favourite soft drink and enjoy.

The St Asaph Street aerated water factory, which is the subject of these blogs, was in operation from 1860, which is pretty early for the Christchurch setting. The only other manufacturer set up in central Christchurch before this was Thomas Raine, who was in operation from 1859. Raine (great name for a fizzy drink man) was initially located over on the corner of Peterborough and Colombo Street, but later moved to the corner of Gloucester Street and Cambridge Terrace.

The St Asaph Street aerated water factory was owned and operated by Joseph Milsom from 1860, although it wasn’t ‘officially’ purchased until 1863. The Milsom family became somewhat of a powerhouse in the world of 19th century aerated waters in Canterbury. So, before we get into it, J. Milsom is not to be confused with R. Milsom (his brother), H. J. Milsom (his nephew), G. P. Milsom (another nephew), J. B Milsom (yet another nephew), or any other potential Milsoms out there. The many Milsom businesses are summarised below.

Keeping up with the Milsoms. A summary of the many Milsom businesses of Christchurch and surrounds, their locations, names, and operation dates. Honestly, it was a whole family affair. Compiled based on information from Christchurch Antique Bottle and Collectables Club Inc (2022).

Once established in 1860, J. Milsom initially traded under his name, before entering a partnership with his brother Richard in 1861. Richard also had an aerated water factory, which was located on London Street in Lyttelton. For the next two years the pair traded as R. & J. Milsom, operating out of both Richard’s London Street factory and Joseph’s St Asaph Street Factory. For reasons unknown the partnership ended in 1863 and the two went back to operating out of their own factories under their own names

An advertisement for R. & J. Milsom, detailing their dual locations. Lyttelton Times, 8/5/1861: 8.

Advertisement for J. Milsom’s goods. Southern Provinces Almanac, 1864: 126.

During this early operation period, two buildings are shown to be located on the property. It is likely that the building fronting St Asaph Street was the house where Milsom and his family lived as it matches the placement of the other neatly arranged houses on the surrounding sections. The second building to the south was most likely the original aerated water factory. No buildings were established on the western town section and the southern areas of the two sections were otherwise vacant at this time.

The St Asaph Street aerated water factory site highlighted in red, as shown on Fooks 1862 map of Christchurch. The eastern section was ‘officially’ purchased in 1863, and the western section was purchased in 1875. Note: Southwark Street was originally named George Street.

In 1866 J. Milsom formed a new partnership with his nephew Henry J. Milsom, with the business operating under J. Milsom & Co. Unfortunately, the partnership filed for bankruptcy in 1871, which, to be fair, was a pretty common occurrence during the 19th century. A newspaper article from the time suggests that something a bit scandalous happened between the pair as Joseph Milsom declared that he was carrying on the business in his own account having ‘no connection with Henry Joseph Milsom’ who was a former business partner. Although whatever happened can’t have been too serious as Henry Jospeh Milsom remained in the employ of the Aerated Water Company. What exactly went on remains a mystery, but we haven’t seen the last of Henry.

A public notice. Lyttelton Times, 17/4/1871: 1

Following the resolution of the bankruptcy, the 1870s and 1880s proved to be a successful period for the Milsom family as branches were operated in Dunsandel, Ashburton, Sheffield, and Leeston (Christchurch Antique Bottle and Collectables Club Inc, 2022: 152). During these two decades, the family certainly had a strong hold on the market and by the mid-1870s, the St Asaph Street factory had grown. In Stout’s 1877 map of Christchurch, we can see the expansion of the factory in the centre of the site, with two smaller associated outbuildings to the east. Additionally, J. Milsom’s house in the northeast corner of the site appears to have been either expanded or replaced by this period.

Interestingly, Henry Joseph Milsom appears to have returned to the partnership with his uncle by 1876. It is possible that the returned partnership was triggered by Henry Joseph Milsom’s purchase of the neighbouring property to the west. There are two houses shown on this section in Strout’s 1877 map, a larger one facing St Asaph Street and a smaller one facing Southwark Street. It is likely that these were the original houses built on the property by Mr James Long Fleming who purchased it in 1863. A sales notice from 1864 describes the property as a quarter acre section of freehold land with a dwelling house of five rooms (likely the one facing St Asaph Street) and a cottage of two rooms (likely the one facing Southwark Street) (Lyttelton Times, 30/8/1864: 4).

The St Asaph Street aerated water factory site highlighted in red, as shown on Stouts 1877 map of Christchurch. Facing St Asaph Street are two houses, the large building in the centre is the new factory building, with two outbuildings to the east. Another small cottage faces Southwark Street.

Henry Joseph Milsom’s return to St Asaph Street appears to have been in preparation to take over the factory from his uncle, who seems to have retired in 1880. Although J. Milsom does seem to continue to have had some involvement in the business, as it was not until 1882 that the firm begun to trade as H. J. Milsom and Co. But all up that makes over 20 years in the aerated water industry, which is a pretty good innings.

The business seemed to have prospered under Henry’s lead, as in 1884 he was advertising the removal of an old house, buildings, sheds, and other things to make way for the construction of ‘new and extensive buildings’ (Press, 5/4/1884: 3). It seemed as though he was planning another revamp of the factory and accommodations. However, in less than a fortnight after placing the advertisement, Henry died of a ‘short but severe illness’ at the St Asaph premises aged 42 (Press, 14/4/1884: 2). Henry’s widow, Mrs Amelia Jane Milsom, initially took over the running of the business, and later sold it in December of 1884 to Henry Mace (Star, 6/01/1885: 2). Thus, marking the end of the Milsom era at St Asaph Street.

Auction notice for the removal of buildings at the Milsom’s Lemonade and Cordial Factory, 1884. Press, 5/04/1884:3.

A public notice detailing the sale of the St Asaph Street factory to Henry Mace, following the death of Henry Milsom. Star, 6/01/1885: 2.

Henry Mace had an interesting life and was quite the successful man. He was born in Yorkshire, England in 1837, and, like many others, was drawn out to Australasia after the discovery of gold (The Cyclopedia of New Zealand [Canterbury Provincial District] 1903:367). In 1861, after a few years on the Australian goldfields, Henry crossed the ditch and began looking for gold in Otago. He, along with his brothers John and Charles, began prospecting at the junction of 12 Mile Creek and the Arrow River, with the ensuing settlement named ‘Macetown’ after the trio. Following his success on the goldfields, he became an important figure in the aerated water industry. Prior to his purchasing of the Milsom factory, he also ran factories in Hokitika and Wellington.

The man, the myth, the mohawk? The Cyclopedia of New Zealand [Canterbury Provincial District] 1903:367.

Tancred Street, Hokitika in the 1870s, looking towards the Southern Alps with the Hokitika River on the left. Part of the Mace & Dixon building is visible on the left. Image: westcoast.recollect.co.nz/nodes/view/26468  .

After purchasing the Milsom business from Mrs Amelia Jane Milsom, Mace renamed the business ‘H. Mace’ and traded from the factory. He seems to have continued on with the site renovations started by Henry Milsom, as an 1885 description of the factory states he had a large main building, a stable, and a coach house. These buildings are likely the ones shown on the 1899 survey plan.  Here is a full description of the factory:

“His large and commodious building is built of brick and stone, as also is a large six-stalled stable and coach-house, with an extensive loft, and is situated in St. Asaph-street, running through to George-street. The upper storey of the factory is used as a storeroom for the numerous articles used in the manufacture of cordials bitters, sauce, &c. The ground floor contains the factory, cordial room and office. Water is laid on throughout the premises, and the frequent use of it keeps the place pleasantly cool. The machine at work is a soda-water machine (by Barrett and Foster) with double cylinders, each containing eight gallons, capable of turning out 1600 dozen daily. It is driven by an Otto silent gas-engine of 3-horse power. This also drives the oat-crushing and chaff-cutting machines in the stable loft-Among the other apparatus are the several bottling machines, which are used for filling the Hogben, Lamont, and Coad patents, as well as the ordinary plain bottle—all of which are in use by this firm—a siphon, filler, and a gasometer, one of the largest in the colony. In the cordial room are the several casks in use for the manufacture of cordials, sauce, bitters, &c., whilst all the shelves are kept constantly filled up with them. They are all corked by the French. Gervais corking machine, which compresses and drives in the cork at the same time.”

 – Illustrated Guide to Christchurch and Neighbourhood, 1885: 208.

The St Asaph Street factory site as shown on an 1899 survey plan. The factory is now in the centre of the western section. LINZ, 1899.

Henry Mace’s brand became known for their dogs head logo, variations of which featured on the bottles produced, and the business powered on through the 1880s and 1890s. In c. 1901, H. Mace became H. Mace & Co., with William Longton becoming a partner. But, soon after this, in mid-1902, Henry Mace died of rheumatic fever. Nevertheless, the business continued under his name, trading until 1923 (Christchurch Antique Bottle and Collectables Club Inc, 2022: 126-127).

H. Mace bottle with dog head logo in centre. Image: C. Watson.

Advertisement for H. Mace & Co.. Davie, 1902: 35.

By the turn of the 20th century, the factory site was still owned by Mrs Amelia Jane Milsom. In 1900 she sold the eastern section to Grummitt, White, and Co., who were clothing manufacturers that specialised in waterproof clothing, and in 1906 she sold the western section to James and Catherine Rattray. Through the 20th century the site became heavily built up with commercial buildings, but nothing too major seems to have happened. By 2004 much of the former factory site was used as carparks, which are an archaeologists best friend. You’ll see why next time.

Grummitt and White Christchurch clothing factory St. Asaph Street, Christchurch. The aerated water factory site is on the right. Image: CCL-KPCD13-0006, Christchurch City Libraries, 2021.

Alana Kelly

References

Christchurch Antique Bottle and Collectables Club Inc, 2022. Unearthed: Bottles of the Christchurch & District Soft Drink Industry 1860-1980. Christchurch Antique Bottle and Collectables Club Inc, Christchurch.

Christchurch City Libraries, 2021. [online] Available at:  https://christchurchcitylibraries.com

Cyclopaedia Company Ltd., 1903. Cyclopaedia of New Zealand [Canterbury Provincial District]. The Cyclopaedia Company Limited, Chistchurch.

Davie, M., 1902. Tourist’s Guide to Canterbury. P. A. Herman, Christchurch. [online] Available at: https://christchurchcitylibraries.com/DigitalCollection/Publications/1900s/TouristGuide1902/Pages/83338-001.asp

Fooks, C. E., 1862. Christchurch, Canterbury, New Zealand [map].

LINZ, 1899. A 8690, Canterbury. Landonline.

Lyttelton Times, 1851-1920. [online] Available at: https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers.

Mosely, M., 1885. Illustrated Guide to Christchurch and Neighbourhood. J. T. Smith & Co., Christchurch. [online] Available at: https://nzetc.victoria.ac.nz/tm/scholarly/tei-MosIllu.html

Press, 1861-1945. [online] Available at: https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/.

Southern provinces almanac, directory, and year-book, 1864. Lyttelton Times, Christchurch. [online] Available at: https://canterburystories.nz/collections/publications/southern-provinces-almanac/ccl-cs-11851

Star, 1868-1935. [online] Available at: https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers.

Strouts, F., 1877. Map of Christchurch, Canterbury compiled from data supplied to City Council and District Drainage Board [map].

West Coast Recollect, 2023. [online] Available at: https://westcoast.recollect.co.nz/

Enterprise in a New Street

**TRIGGER WARNING: This blog talks of infant death and sex work**

 

Time forgives and forgets, dulling the harsh effects of first-hand accounts of shocking life events to a point where one can laugh at unfortunate events, or even become engrossed in the salacious accounts of someone’s long gone, some would say best forgotten, life. This ‘best forgotten’ approach to unfortunate historical events means history tends to present the winners in life, the successes, and the ideals of what a ‘good life’ is, skewing many a family history and leaving many questions and surprises for those who decide to delve.

In many of the histories we research we do get the opportunity to write about Canterbury’s success stories, but we also research the residential lives of the average colonial settler brought out to a new world. Despite the Canterbury Associations’ self-assured hubris, campaigning for the ideal Anglican settlement, life did get in the way. The need for immigrants to help play out the grand scheme of things brought working class innovations: the good and, in the Victorian’s eyes, the morally questionable.

Enter the world of a smallish new street, a right of way in the beginning, in the residential northeast of the city. It was a patchwork of small worker’s cottages with dodgy drainage. Most of these cottages were leased, and some were sold to those who ventured to better themselves by owning a property. Little was happening on this street during the early 1860s, but by 1868 the section we are going to focus on in this blog was sold, and a small cottage was built. The property went through a few owners with little fanfare. In July of 1878 the property sold to Mr John Hannan, who already lived in the new street. Hannan, hoping to extend his property portfolio, took a mortgage out with a Mr Michael Murphy. Hannan’s property empire wasn’t to be and, as mortgagee, Mr Michael Murphy, took over the property in 1879. It was from this time that life started to get interesting in the new street – yes you can cue the ominous music now (LINZ, 1860).

While this is not our street it does give an idea of early cottages in Christchurch in the 1860s – albeit in a nicer area! Image: Barker, Alfred Charles (Dr), 1819-1873. Canterbury Museum, 2016.13.7.

Michael Murphy, according to George Ranald Macdonald in his Macdonald Biography of Canterbury Project, along with his brother John ‘were two of the greatest rouges in the history of Christchurch’ (MacDonald, 1952-1964: M753a). It’s quite an accusation but Macdonald did go on to say, so vast and numerous were their appearances before the courts it was too much to record in the biography project. So, with this opinion of Mr Murphy and his brother in mind, the following events could be deemed unsurprising.

The year of 1879 for Murphy was relatively quiet year regarding court appearances. In July 1879 Murphy was fined 10 shillings and costs for allowing a cow to graze on Cambridge Terrace (Lyttelton Times, 15/7/1879: 3). Later in the same month Murphy was sued by a C. Hensley for the recovery of £15 for a dishonoured cheque. A Mr McConnell represented the plaintiff (Hensley), and Mr Izard represented the defendant (Mr Murphy). Murphy obtained £15 from his brother John in exchange for a cheque of the same amount. When John went to use cheque, it was returned endorsed with ‘payment stopped’. John then paid away the cheque to Mr Howe in liquidation of an account, and then Mr Howe paid away the cheque to the plaintiff, Mr Hensley in settlement of wages (still with me here?). Hensley made his way to the bank to deposit his wages, not noticing the endorsement, and duly had the cheque returned to him unpaid. Murphy disclaimed liability stating the cheque was given for a gambling debt. This resulted in some ‘very hard swearing’ and Murphy, in a peremptory manner, stated he could provide independent witnesses to state the contrary. It is at this point, dear reader, we find out that Murphy, true to form, had called in at his so-called witnesses’ office that morning to cross question him about the cheque and said if he leaned towards Murphy that it would be ‘worth his while’. Once the witness had stated the account to the court Murphy’s defence lawyer, Mr Izard, picked up his hat and quit the court room leaving Murphy to defend himself. Murphy then wondered if the Magistrate could adjourn the case stating, ‘I am left to myself’, with the Magistrate replying, ‘I don’t wonder indeed’. This left Murphy asking irrelevant questions of the incorruptible witness before asking for a verdict deeming, he had proved his case that the cheque had been produced under the influence of alcohol to pay a gambling debt. The Magistrate failed to see the case with Murphy having to pay all costs (Lyttelton Times, 18/7/1879: 6). This was a case among many of the Murphy Bros, sealing their reputation in Macdonald’s dictionary.

A day in the Magistrates Court… you can only imagine! Image: Addle-headed Justice on the Auckland Bench. Hangum J.P. (to smashed-up plaintiff): it serves yet tight far goin’ inter theae sort et ‘oases; so, let this be a warning to yer. The prisoner is discharged without a stain on ‘is character. ‘ (Observer, 27 May 1899). Alexander Turnbull Library, Wellington, New Zealand. /records/5813200

So back from that brief interlude to characterise Murphy, to our property in the new street. Murphy, as the ‘mortgagee’, decided to sell. Three freehold sections were advertised for sale in the new street; all had been in the ownership of Hannan and all had three-roomed cottages (Lyttelton Times, 7/3/1879: 8). The properties did not sell, and it was the property’s next appearance in the newspapers that sealed its fate. In April of 1881 in the magisterial column of a Saturday paper it noted ‘Larrikin Prostitutes’, Josephine Ellen, Nellie Ross, Alice Hulbert, and Jane Wilmot, all but one being of a young age, were brought up under the ‘Vagrancy Act’ and charged with having no lawful visible means of support. It was deposed that they lived at a house, in the new street, owned by Mrs Michael Murphy (it has to be said that Murphy himself was in Lyttelton gaol awaiting a perjury trial). The arresting sergeants disposed that the girls’ occupation of the property caused great disturbance to the neighbourhood. The accused were described as prostitutes, with one neighbour, Mr J. McDonald, who lived near the house, disposing that orgies had taken place at the property. The Bench responded in a severe manner about the degradation of the neighbourhood by the defendants, who were then sentenced to prison for three months with hard labour (Globe, 9/4/1881: 2; Lyttelton Times, 11/4/1881: 3). Another newspaper article said the prisoners had flippantly informed the Bench that indeed they did have support, so much so that they had considered purchasing the house they rented from Mrs Murphy (Star, 9/4/1881: 3). Josephine Ellen, the elder of the women and deemed the keeper of the brothel, exclaimed ‘Vel, vot am I do mit my little dorgs!’ (New Zealand Herald, 21/4/1881: 3). It was not known what happened to the dogs and no further records could be found regarding Josephine Ellen, her name likely to be an alias. Mrs Murphy continued to let cottages in the new street and in October of 1881 one of the cottages burnt down (Star, 31/10/1881: 3).

In 1882 Murphy sold one of the properties to an Eva M Boyd (LINZ, 1860: 600). You could surmise it may have been the now empty section, as Boyd already lived in the street and had purchased a property with a shared boundary in 1881 and another later on in 1897. Boyd styled herself as ‘Mrs Boyd’, ‘Ada Boyd’, and ‘Mabel Ada Boyd’. Nothing was found with current research regarding a Mabel Ada Boyd prior to this time or an Eva Mabel Boyd.

‘Mrs Boyd’, as she was referred to, is noted in newspapers linked with the street from March 1881 where she was associated with a court case of a Frederick Walter Berry on a charge of vagrancy. It was deposed during the court case that Berry had been cooking for Mrs Boyd (Star, 20/5/1881: 3). Mrs Boyd started to make regular appearances in Magisterial proceedings where her home was described as a ‘house of ill-fame’ and a ‘brothel’ (Globe, 14/6/1882: 3; Star, 14/6/1882: 3). It seems Mrs Boyd picked up where Josephine Ellen left off. The following is a little unsettling, so reader beware.

Things came to a head in the street in 1883 when three people, Alice Hulbert, Ada Willett, and Alice Willet, were arrested on a charge of disposal of a body of a child. A woman, Boyd, also had a charge of concealment but had yet to be arrested. The body of the child was found ‘secreted’ in the garden adjoining the house occupied by Mrs Boyd. Some boys playing in the garden found the body concealed in brown paper. The body had been buried. It was not known at the time if the child was still born (Star, 3/5/1883: 3). As the court case progressed, Mrs Boyd was eventually found in Dunedin and arrested. Boyd was later noted in court attacking a Constable Neale, the principal witnesses in the case. The constable was said to have ‘parried’ off the attack very skilfully, suffering no injury from his ‘formidable assailant’ (Star, 15/5/1883: 2). As the details of the case transpired, it was a girl named Amy Dyson, a lodger with Boyd, who had died and had been pregnant. On hearing that the boys had found the body, the Willets, and Hulbert removed the body and reburied it elsewhere. None of the witnesses testified to have seen or buried the child (Evening Star, 5/5/1883: 2).

It was in these reports of the case that Mrs Boyd was referred to as Mabel Ada Boyd (Star, 15/5/1883: 3). Later, in the police gazette, it is recorded that the four women were charged of the offence of concealment of birth, but in consequence of a legal difficulty, the Crown Prosecutor presented an indictment (New Zealand Police Gazette, 8/8/1883: 140).

From 1884 Mrs Boyd appeared to have a consistent account of keeping a disorderly house and being described as a ‘nuisance’ in the new street. In a Magisterial hearing, Mabel Ada Boyd was accused of acting as the mistress of a house of ill fame. Her lawyer, Mr Joyce, even suggested she lease the property and close her business. One neighbour across the road from her property described the goings on as a ‘regular terror to the neighbours’ and it was a ‘very bad house’. Another neighbour also offered his property for sale to Mrs Boyd, in order to escape the bad character of the neighbourhood. Mrs Boyd stated that she did not live in the house. Mrs Boyd was noted as living on the corner of the street in a rental property belonging to a Mr John Goston, which incidentally had recently burnt down (Press, 9/4/1884: 2; Lyttelton Times, 24/4/1884: 3). In 1885 another fire in the street burnt down a four-roomed cottage owned by Mrs Mabel Ada Boyd. The dwelling was considered old and had not been inhabited for 12 months. It was also stated that Mrs Boyd had gone to Wellington, and the property was to be leased to Mrs John Hannan. In a strange twist, this was the wife of the same Hannan that owned the properties originally (Lyttelton Times, 7/2/1885: 5; Star, 7/2/1885: 3).

The perceptions of prostitutes in 19th century New Zealand. Image: Blomfield, William, 1866-1938. Blomfield, William, 1866-1938: The Seven Ages of a Lost Sister. New Zealand Observer and Free Lance, 12 October 1889. Ref: H-713-095. Alexander Turnbull Library, Wellington, New Zealand. /records/22306446

After this eventful phase in the street, things seem to have settled down. Mrs Boyd was gone, having moved to Wellington and styling herself as Ada Boyd.  Again, Mrs Boyd is accused of bringing down the tone of a neighbourhood, this time in Boulcott Street Wellington.  The newspapers titled Boyd as a ‘notorious woman of ill-fame’ in an article titled ‘A Den of Iniquity’ (New Zealand Times, 10/9/1885: 3). Boyd was charged with keeping a disorderly house, frequented by idle and disorderly persons, and having no lawful visible means of support. Apparently, the nuisance had been tolerated by residents of Boulcott Street for some time, and it was hoped that it would be abated. The house was located in a very respectable area of town and close to two schools. The house was owned by a leading citizen of Wellington, no other than Mr John Plimmer. Plimmer stated that the lease was held by another woman called Farris. A Detective Chrystal gave evidence that Boyd kept a brothel with three girls called Carrie Williams, Sarah Williams (with an alias of Brighting), and Clara Mitchell.  A woman called Woodroofe, from Christchurch also resided at the property. It was stated that Boyd had been convicted of similar charges in Christchurch (New Zealand Times, 10/9/1885: 3). Boyd was later charged on remand and by 22 September had left the house in Boulcott Street (Evening Post, 22/9/1885: 3).

As for the new street? By 1891 it was renamed and the mysterious Eva Mabel Boyd, now listed as an Auckland spinster, seems to have purchased another section of land in the street in 1897. By 1899 the property was acquired by a building firm, who quickly subdivided, and developed the property into respectable residential sections – deemed no doubt by the Victorians as a more palatable enterprise for a new street.

-The Historian, Underground Overground Archaeology

References

Akaroa Mail and Banks Peninsula Advertiser, 1877-1839. [online] Available at: https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers

LINZ, 1860. Canterbury Land District Deeds Index – A/S – Subdivisions of Christchurch town sections. Archives New Zealand, Christchurch office.

Lyttelton Times, 1851-1920. [online] Available at: https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers

Evening Star, 1865-1947. [online] Available at: https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers

Globe, 1874-1882. [online] Available at: https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers

MacDonald, G.R., 1952-1964. Macdonald Dictionary of Canterbury Biography project. [online] Canterbury Museum. Available at: <https://collection.canterburymuseum.com/objects?query=maker_name%3A%22George+Ranald+Macdonald%22>.

New Zealand Police Gazettes, 1877-1945 [online] Available at: https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers

New Zealand Herald, 1863-1945. [online] Available at: https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers

Star, 1868-1920. [online] Available at: https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers