A HOUSE OF THE PAST

Press, Volume LXXI, Issue 21389, 4 February 1935, Page 12

A HOUSE OF THE PAST

Link With Early | Canterbury THE CAREER OF JOHN MARSHMAN Between the demolition, last week, of an old house in Avonside, and Canterbury's first railway line there would seem to be little connexion; nor would the casual pedestrian, glimpsing the tangled remains of a garden above a decrepit red brick wall, associate its great mulberry and walnut trees with the buying of cannon and the bogey of a Russian invasion of Lyttelton. Yet that is but part of the story the old house had to tell. Tenantless for some time past, the house was recently partially

destroyed by fire, and was given into the wreckers' hands. Contractors are accustomed to meeting with faithful workmanship in old Christchurch buildings; but in this case they were astonished by the sturdiness of the older wing of the house. Very few nails had been employed in its construction, the hand-sawn timbers having been perfectly dovetailed. Beneath the corrugated iron of the roof were discovered the shingles of an eariier day—that of the 'fifties; and most of them, on being uncovered, were found to be in an excellent state of preservation. The house, known as 54 River road, stood just 100 yards or so west of the old mile-post, which still juts from the pavement near the Stanmore road bridge. Sumner road Memories By old residents of Christchurch No. 54 river road was remembered as the one-time abode of John Marshman, who held several important posts in the Canterbury Provincial Government. Originally a man of Bristol, he landed in Wellington about the time of the big earthquake, and his first work in New Zealand was the construction of a road through Ngahauranga gorge. The office of provincial treasurer of Canterbury attracted him next, and as treasurer he was one of the illustrious three (the others being C. C. Bowen and Richard Packer), who ventured their lives for their country's good in the tandem-team dogcart which James Edward FitzGerald drove from Christchurch to Lytteiton at the opening of the Sumner road in 1857. The dogcart was followed by a four-wheeled conveyance containing a band, while an indiscriminate

mob of riders tailed along behind. Since the riders and their horses had to be punted across the Heathcote, eight at a time, the dogcart was able to secure a fairly good start. It is on record that even the stoutest hearts quailed before the downgrade of the zig-zag from Evans Pass into Lyttelton. In after years Sir Charles Bowen admitted that John Marshman and he got out and walked. The elderly Provincial Secretary, however, had so stern a sense of public duty that he stuck to his volatile Superintendent's side throughout the whole journey. And so, amid intense excitement, the dogcart arrived at last in Lyttelton, with volunteer grooms holding the horses' heads and several helpers hanging on to the dogcart behind. Christchurch and Lyttelton forgot their mutual differences that day in the consumption of a Gargantuan dinner. Not once did Christchurch refer to Lyttelton as "Wapping': nor was Lyttelton heard to murmur about the "city of magnificent distances."

Early Railways On the opening of the Ferrymead railway to the Heathcote ferry in 1863, John Marshman vyas appointed general manager of Canterbury railways. Christchurch made holiday for" the occasion. Flags and banners were displayed everywhere, all roads led to the railway station, and cheers were given as the first passenger train ever run in Canterbury puffed out, with the Superintendent, the general manager of railways, and the rest of the official party aboard. Even a violent nor'-wester which raised clouds of dust could not mar the rejoicings. Christchurch citizens were grimy, but happy. Three and a half years later the "hole in the hill" was completed, and another line was thereby added to the general manager's charge. Meantime, work was commenced on the Great Southern Railway. Alas, it was to be many years before this line was carried as far as the Selwyn river, and when it did get there it had to stop as the river suddenly elected to part company with the bridge! A Popular Manager John Marshman is somewhere described by a Canterbury chronicler as an unassuming man who wore a cabbage-tree hat and loose clothes. Independent to a degree, he seldom hesitated to express his disapproval at anything displeasing to him. In the eyes of his railway officers he could do no wrong, and testimonials

to his popularity with them still survive. One of these, a candalabra presented to him on his retirement, is in 'the New Zealand Railways museum. Another memento is an 'old clay pipe to which he was greatly i attached. The pipe is mounted in I gold, a condition in which it was rei stored to their general manager by I railway officers who had temporarily "borrowed" it. On his part, John Marshman stood by his men through thick and thin. A guard was once charged in the Christchurch court with being drunk in charge of a train, and the general manager appeared to give evidence in his favour. John Marsh- ! man's naive opinion that the guard | had been able to pronounce the name "Hillsborough" correctly, and therefore that he could not possibly have been intoxicated, led to the withdrawal of the charge. Again, a stationmaster was accused of having committed some offence against railway etiquette, and a tedious enquiry dragged its length through many days. John Marshman grew increasingly restive as the enquiry proceeded, and after the stationmaster had been triumphantly vindicated the general manager of railways resigned, as the deep measure of his disapproval. This created a tremendous stir in the province. There was a subsequent "crisis" in the Provincial Council, and Canterbury "Punch" published a cartoon depicting John Marshman in the guise of a wild Irishman, thwacking a recumbent C. W. Kennaway with a shillelagh ticketed "Enquiry." The Russian Bogey John Marshman mode many voyages to England; in fact, in his old age he made it a rule never to spend the winter in New Zealand. It was on one of his early trips that he

married a member of the famous Wilmshurst family of artists. For some time, while still in his youth, he acted as the Canterbury Provincial Council's immigration agent in London, in conjunction with Henry Selfe Selfe. At the time of one of the Russian "scares" to which British people were periodically given during the nineteenth century the law-makers of Canterbury decided to Lyttelton harbour, and instructed London agent to spend the sum of £3OOO on ordnance. Politely but firmly John Marshman replied, pointing to the incredible folly of such a proceeding. He signed himself: "Your obedient servant." Unable to detect any signs of obedience, the Council wrote back sharply. Their agent's reply was short. He had spent the £3OOO on guns, he said, and he was their most.obedient servant; but on second thoughts he had crossed out the "most." He wrote, by the way, an excellent hand; in fact, it was he who transcribed the Canterbury articles of abolition, when the provinces

were amalgamated into a central government. For a year previously he had been Commissioner of Waste Lands, and under the central government he became Canterbury's first Commissioner of Crown Lands. It was during his tenure of this position that he was once told by a madly-excited clerk that the office was on fire. He went quietly on with his writing. The clerk dashed out, to return again, more excited than before. "Mr Marshman, there's a fire in the office:" he shouted. "Why haven't you put it out, then?" growled the commissioner, not raising his eyes from his work. In politics John Marshman was strictly conservative, and in his old age it was only to members of the Conservative party that he would accord the title of "Mr." If compelled to mention members of other parties he would refer to them as "Brown" or "Robinson," as the case might, be. A Link With 3arauel Butler Many and varied were the visitors who passed through the doors of 54 River road during John Marshman's tenancy, and many were the entertainments the old house saw. Sir Julius von Haast was a nextdoor neighbour. William Guise Brittan lived in Linwood House, and the Percival home was not far away. At times Samuel Butler came in from his station, played on the Marshman piano, painted in the dining-room, and walked in the Marshman garden. No doubt he also sniffed the banksia roses and dreamed of the time when, having created the estate of his desire, he would be able to return to London and the British Museum, and there devote himself to literature. But in the meantime, he played the piano and painted. . . . A granddaughter of John Marshman, a Christchurch resident, is today the possessoi of a portrait of her grandfather which was painted by Samuel Butler. Quite a little romance is attached to this portrait. John Marshman did not always live at 54 River road; he also lived at Sumner and on the old Wilderness road. During one of the upheavals in the shifting of many possessions the portrait was put out among some lumber to be given to a daily charwoman. Thirty years afterwards, one of John Marshman's grandsons identified it. hanging, smoke-blackened, above the fireplace of a fisherman's hut at Redcliffs. Promptly he bought it from the fisherman; and to-day the portrait is a valued family possession, linking as it does Samuel Butler with John Marshman, Canterbury's first general manager of railways.