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Press, 20 October 1978, Page 1

Brian Mackrell writes about an early colonial identity who had a talent for playing The Joker.

John Heslop was born in 1838 in the Cheviot Hills, the territory of wiki Borderers, the freebooters of Scots-English history. In 1856. then a mature teen-ager, he determiend to see the world, packing his few possessions on a swag-seick, he set forth. Some days travel brought him to a wayside inn. The sun was setting as h ? staggered, dusty and exhausted, inside ter inquire for food and lodgings. The inn-keeper looked the yokel up and down and told him that all rooms but one were full as he had a hunting party Of rich gentlemen staying there. The remaining room, said the inn-keeper, was haunted by a whispering ghost who. though it had never made a physical manifestation, had driven countless lodgers screaming into the night with its demonic moaning and murmuring. Young John smiled and jingled his few remaining coppers, replying that he was not superstitious and would take that room for the night. The inn-keeper grabbed the preferred coins, snapping that the “Clod-hopper” had been warned and not. to expect a refund when he ran gib j bering from the ghost. After a frugal meal the weary youth climbed the stairs to the reputedly haunted room too tired to worry about whispering spirits and collapsed on the bed into an exhausted sleep — which was soon rudelv interrupted by the return of the rowdy hunting party. The inn-keeper told them of the bumpkin-boy who had paid for the “ghost’s room” and this caused much hilarity among the party, increasing with their intake of wine and cider as the evening wore on. Undoubtedly the innkeeper believed in the whispering spirit, but the gentlemen, being gentlemen hid their doubts and fears regarding ghosts beneath a facade of mirth. They retired to a room under the haunted one to play cards and, make bold with the booze, frequently bellowed to the yokel upstairs to ask if he was enjoying himself with a ghost for company. Their raucous performance allowed young John only a fitfull sleep but, as midnight approached, the gamblers became quieter. Not for fear of any ghost but because most of them had passed out —slumped on floor or table in drunk en stupor. The few hardened drinkers persevered with the cards and considerable amounts of gold passed back and forth across the table. In the room above young John began once more to sink into deep sleep. Then .. . “In the earlv hours of the morning I heard a strange whispering. This gradually grew loader and more distinct. The ghost, the ghost. I thought, and I hardly dared to breath. “After what seemed an eternity, in which the weird whisperings did not cease, I plucked up courage and, approached the window near which the strange voice seemed to emanate. I halted. I listened. I looked — and still the voice moaned and whispered. “Then, like a flash, I threw up the window, looked out, and the myth exploded. Outside the window was an old pear tree, trained against the wall. A branch was rubbing against the window sill, being moved by a breeze which generally sprang up shortly after midnight.” Having thus “laid” the ghost, young John hastened back to bed. Sleep was upper most in his mind until he heard a loud “Hurrah.” from one of his tormentors below who had just struck a winning hand. “An idea entered my head. I wrapped a sheet around me and crept down the stairs. I approached the gambling den and slowly opened the door. | At the sight of the weird I apparition that confronted | them, the gamblers let out one yell and streaked for I another door. They left I their cards, their wine, and a pile of gold on the table. Young John may have looked a green country boy but he was a true Borderer, and after some m minutes alone in room, except for intoxicated gamblers snoring on table and floor, he realised his joke had more auspicious results than he had magined possible. “I had to laugh, but I made the best of the opportunity. I seized the gold and hurried back to bed. I was up at daybreak and was met by the trembling inn-keener. He told me that for the first time the ghost had been seen. Needless to say I lost no time in leaving the inn far behind me.” A few more days on the road and John reached the port of Liverpool where the gambler’s gold was more than sufficient

to buy first-class passage to New Zealand. The manner in which he purportedly paid his way to the colony where he became known as "Honest John” was not revealed until his ninetieth birthday, shortly before his death. “You may say it was a doubtful proceeding on my part," he told the audience at a function held in his honour, "but the men were gambling. The pile of gold on the table went to the man who held the best hand. Some held kings, some held queens: but 1 — well. I held the joker.” The young man who had so successfully “played the joker” landed at Wellington in 1857 and went north to Hawke's Bay where he became a builock dray contractor. After five years of carting goods in and wool out from sheep stations in times when there were no roads, he was able to establish a farm on the banks of the Waipawa river. He married Isabella

Steele, a dainty Miss who shared his love for sports and horses. In 1866. when the Hauhau threatened Napier, he saw action at Omarunui as member of the First Hawke’s Bay Cavalry Regiment and was awarded the New Zealand Medal. In the next few years his farm thrived: his cattle and horses were among the best in the province: he became proud father of a baby' daughter. The future looked bright. But the meandering Waipawa flash-flooded, changing its course over night. John Heslop’s property became a freshcarved riverbed and swamp dotted with the bloated corpse-- of his prize-winning stock. It was no exaggeration when he later declared: “I was ruined in one night.” New Zealand rivers in those days were uncontrolled by man and he was only one of many who suffered such a disaster. A Borderer is not easily discouraged and John Heslop was soon working in a partnership supplying the Thames with sheep and cattle. Then came a personal tragedy that made his losses on the Waipawa as nothing in comparison. Isabella caught a chill while swimming; it developed into pneumonia and she died; their second child died with her. Desolate, John Heslop left the Bay and moved about both islands for some years before settling down once more, this time in Taranaki. He remarried, became a member of serveral local bodies, including the Taranaki Land Board on which he served

for a record 27 years. He was particularly active in A. and P. Associations and his services as a judge of cattle and horses were in great demand in both islands. He contested the Patea electorate and was. on first count. declared elected, in later lite he considered it a great joke that he had confidently written scores of letters with “Member of the House of Representatives" after his name until a recount was demanded. Ever the Borderer, he was put out of office on this recount by one vote. He had more luck as a punter than a politician. A double dividend in excess of today’s equivalent of $4OOO was recorded at Riccarton in 1906 — a $4OOO plus return for a $2 bet. Star Rose and Captain Shannon won the New Zealand Cup and Stewards' Handicap that year, and a newspaper of the day reports; "When the dividend was hoisted there was a gasp of astonishment by the crowd. No sooner was the dividend put up than there was a rush to the pay-out window to see who the lucky investor was. for there was only one ticket taken out on that combination. The crowd eagerly waited to see the lucky party form himself into a queue and present his ticket.” Doubless, too, in that crowd there were a few “dips” — the classic term for pickpockets — and had the payout been effected the winner would have required a strong escort. But apprently the winner knew a thing or two, and stood off. Probably he celebrated his win in champagne, but whatever he was doing he never faced the pay-out clerk and the eager totalisator staff packed round their fellow, keen to have a look at the lucky one. Ever suspicious. there some of the crow d, peeved at the non-appearance of the ticket-holder. who were ready to declare that "nobody had the winning bit of pasteboard." The identity of that 1906 winner was not revealed until a week after "Honest John” died, in February. 1929. The Auckland “Sun” reported: “Thia interesting item was vouchsafed by a wellknown racing official who stands high in the game in both islands. He stated that the late Mr Heslop posted his ticket to the Canterbury Jockey Club, and was paid his big dividend by post. So, after over 20 years, the identity of the winner of the biggest dividend ever returned in New Zealand by the double totalisator was disclosed.” John Heslop “knew a thing or two” alright — when not to show your hand as well as w-hen to play the joker.