Exuberance At Sod-Turning

Press, Volume CII, Issue 30302, 30 November 1963, Page 20

Exuberance At Sod-Turning

I Specially written for “Th* Press" by A. M. MENZIES]

PROVISIONS of the Electoral Act and rules for the use of the 1 Technical College Memorial Hall have ensured that afternoon tea at today’s function to mark the centenary of the railways means —afternoon tea. This would never have done 100 years ago. Our colonists loved a banquet; afternoon tea would have been an unpopular substitute.

And today’s function will surely be sedate compared with those two fine opportunities of indulging provided by New Zealand's first railway on the day of the turning of the first sod, July 17, 1861, and the day of the opening, December 1, 1863.

It was an excited crowd of about 2000 which gathered in the Heathcote Valley for the sod turning in a drizzle which continued throughout "one of the very worst days of one of the worst of Julys.” Th-> programme had earlier been well notified in “The Press.” a strong opponent of financial arrangements for the railway, and the "Lyttelton Times,” supported of the pro. Vince’s Superintendent, William Sefton Moorhouse, the prime mover in the railway project These included a change in venue, from Christchurch to the valley, in deference to the residents of Lyttelton, and the holding of a banquet by the contractors in a spacious tent. It was distinguished by the name "dejeuner.” Said the “Lyttelton Times”: "As the space is necessarily limited, we understand Messrs Holmes and Company have arranged for ample entertainment outside for all comers. The ground will be kept by police, aided, we hope, by such members of the five volunteer companies as may be present, unarmed.” That was ominous. With enthusiasm unrestrained by the weather, everyone set out for the Heathcote Valley. The paddle steamers, Avon and Planet, held a race when they took Lyttelton residents to the Heathcote Ferry where they were joined by those from Christchurch ad Kaiapoi, the ferry being provided free by its owner. Gay Gathering After the inevitable delays * Kay procession including police. bands. volunteers armed and unarmed, the Christchurch and Kaiapoi, the horsemen four deep and Mr Moorhouse moved up the valley to the scene of the sod where his Honour “handled the spade with skill and dexterity.” Then they flocked to the sumptuous dejeuner prepared by John Birdsey, proprietor of the British Hotel, Christchurch. For weeks he had been advertising for waiters and a “lot of poultry and bouquets" for what he unseemingly called the “railway fete.” It was reported that the tent presented a sight “which dinner-loving Englishmen—dare we add women?—are certain to look upon with pleasurable sensations: a well furnished table. "... The ladies, who mustered very strongly, thought it not undignified for the nonce’ to let it be thought they were possessed of such an unsentimental thing as an appetite; and we can only say that if the desire on the part of the company generally for the success of the railway corresponded in any degree to the vigour with which they attacked the viands, his Honour and his coadjutors in the scheme may count upon a considerable number of most devoted adherents.” At this stage, matters began to get out of hand. There had been some minor incidents during the day: a Kaiapoi man had his leg broken when kicked by a horse; another man was knocked down twice by horsemen on F erry road—there was danger on the roads even in those unmechanised days—there was a great deal of impatience among those using the ferry; and Mr Pierce’s Heathcote Arms,

| which was in a “perfect state |of siege" was enlivened by 1 the occasional boxing match, perhaps caused by railway issues As the dejeuner progressed, toasts were responded to with tremendous enthusiasm and it was soon impossible to hear what was being said. Discontented with what had been provided for them, some of those outside the tent made an attack on it and tore it to ribbons. “It is a pity some of these high-handed gentlemen do not seek a field for their activity at the gold diggings where they might be of use; here they are a nuisance,” commented “The Press.” The “Lyttelton Times” described them as a gang of disorderly ruffiians who were not content with the ample provision made for them on the ground, which they wasted and destroyed in a most wanton manner. Police Action The whole celebration deteriorated into something of riot. Police were in hand-to-hand conflict with the attackers. It became so serious that one volunteer officer suggested fixing bayonets, a suggestion which both newspapers later roundly condemned. Charging rioters with firearms or any other weapons was illegal until the Riot Act had been read by a magistrate or justice of the peace, according to the “Lyttelton Times.” “There is no one thing more utterly repugnant to all the notions of an Englishman than that armed men should appear in a public crowd,” said "The Press.” One assessment of the damage to be born by the contractors and Mr Birdsey was £2OO, but there was another side to the story. A letter from a correspondent alleged this was “only a puff in favour of the proprietor of the British Hotel,” and that outside the tent “what food there was was very meagre in quantity and indifferent in quality. There was some very sour colonial ale, which was certainly thick enough for both victuals and drink; and it might have been intended for that purpose, but its appearance was against it, for it looked very like thick ditch water. No wonder they forced their way into the tent as the Heathcote Valley is not a pleasant spot, especially on a rainy day.” When the first part of the line, from Christchurch to Ferrymead, was opened more than two years later, recollections caused the “Lyttelton Tunes” to remind its readers it was an occasion when courtesy and forbearance would not be out of place. This time the day progressed without an unpleasant incident but our forefathers’ preoccupation with food and drink had not diminished. A howling nor’wester, now the prerogative of People’s Day at the show, became the villain in the place of the gang of ruffians. Shops were closed, the town was bedecked with flags and the road to the railway station was thronged with vehicles and pedestrians to provide the biggest crowd ever to have congregated in Canterbury. One observer described it as “the most English spectacle” he had witnessed in the province.

“The nor’wester and the hot sun played strange pranks with the ladies ,and discomposed the gentlemen; it tickled your nose and made

you sneeze; it powdered your hair and beard; it ground your teeth to an excruciating edge, reduced your eyes to a chronic state of rheum, defiled your pocket handkerchief and brought you generally to a state of griminess impossible to describe.” Through all this they enjoyed themselves, packing refreshment booths, buying oranges, ginger beer, dyspeptic pastry and stick confectionery. Elegantly-dressed ladies in crinolines and gentlemen in top hats and frock coats paraded about the gaily decorated platform, wool store, engine-shed and other buildings, shaking hands incessantly. The Superintendent—now Samuel Beale -was late but the first train, drawn by the mechanical monster in all its polished oiliness left at 2.3 p.m. and arrived at Ferrymead just 10 minutes later. After the dignitaries, members of the public were delighted passengers out and back for the rest of the day. Such an occasion surely called for a dejeuner. This I one was held in the goods shed and prepared again bj the irrepressible Mr Birdsey Two tables running the length of the shed held all the sumptous delicacies of* the season for the 500 invited* guests but those not privi- “ leged to sit there made the l most of a row of waggons,! some covered as sideboards | “We saw one party of nine. | amongst whom there were| only three knives, one of I them being a carver, and two! forks, said the "Lyttelton | Times.” We saw one gentle-1 man insanely attempting to] carve a ham with a penknife? no bigger than a knitting! needle, another demolishing! a joint in a very primitive j manner: but notwithstanding I all these drawbacks, it is a | strange fact that the choicest | dishes accumulated in a most i mysterious manner around | these apparently outsiders.” | "The Press” praised the ’ spread highly but said; “There is no advantage in either writing or reading about good victuals, we are not a cookery book. “Tired Giants” Afterwards guests watched the arrival and departure of trains at the platform and listened to speeches from Moorhouse and others but one observer went off to the engine-shed where the employees c_ the contractors were feasting. He found the door guarded by four or five big workmen who refused him entry at first. One constituted himself a guide saying: “They’re having a fine turn-out inside here,” and in a deprecating manner, “Lord bless ye, sir, what vor shouldn’t un?” The door was opened upon the scene of cleared taoles and “some 50 or 60 giants enjoying a refreshing nap.” Unlike that of two years before, the day was agreed to have been a most satisfactory one. There was some criticism of those who had more than one ride when others could not get on and there was a little disappointment with the engine’s whistle—“ What good is a hingine if it doesn’t scream properly”—but there was not an accident or an incident. “The Press” said the opening day of the LytteltonChristchurch railway terminal ended in the usual manner of darkness, just as if no momentous event for Canterbury had happened. The centennial day will surely end in the same way. l

“OPENING OF THE FIRST RAILWAY IN NEW ZEALAND, at Christchurch, Canterbury Province,” was the caption of this picture in the “Illustrated London News.” The accompanying article said: “On Tuesday, December 1, a new era in the history of New Zealand was inaugurated by the opening of its first line of railway. To Canterbury province, the youngest of the five principal settlements of New Zealand, belongs the merit of having been the first of them to introduce the railway locomotive and the electric telegraph. . . . After the opening in the morning, trains continued to run up and down throughout the day, and afforded gratuitous rides, as well as immense amusement, to crowds of colonybred young people, to whom a ride in a railway train was, perhaps, a novelty; as well as to many others, who had not enjoyed that mode of conveyance since they emigrated from the Old Country.”