EARLY OTAGO HISTORY.

Otago Witness, Issue 3890, 2 October 1928, Page 69

EARLY OTAGO HISTORY.

VISITS TO SOUTH CANTERBURY.

By

Old Identity.

IX. Many places that are of importance today were, at the -time with which these notes treat, as inaccessible as backblocks, Timaru, Oamaru, and Waimate could be reached only after long travel by road from Christchurch or Dunedin. Timaru had rather an advantage over the other two places in-so-far that, weather permitting, goods and passengers could be landed by surf boa't from the coastal steamers. The alternative was a trip to .Lyttelton on the part of anyone going north or to Dunedin to a person coming south. For this reason a Preferred to use the coach services, which were always sure. The awkward uacom 4ortable landing at Timaru was indeed a thrilling experience when the 11 s °°k e( l upon as “ just workable. It was, in fact, an experience never to be forgotten, especially when J 1 . t°. be taken by those who were suffering from “ mal de mer.” The poor ladies were dumped into the arms of sailors in the surf boat, while landing on the beach was even more thrilling at times, as it was quite a common thing for these flat-bottomed craft to be pooped at the moment of touching land, and as may be imagined this put the finishing touch on what" had gone before. The passengers, however, soon forgot their troubles after landing, and, indeed, they were only among the discomforts incidental, to early life in the colonies, which had to be endured in common with many other things. In those days of only a little over 50 years ago /there was none of the luxury for travellers such as is provided to-day, and the Timaru breakwater and harbour existed only in the dim vista of the future. The South Canterbury people were even at that time a sporting lot, and, far though they were from the chief centres of Christchurch and Dunedin, thev had many important racing and athletic fixtures, the former including steeplechases at Timaru and Waimate. At this time the Grand National meeting had been started by a band of hunting enthusiasts, but. as the Canterbury Jockey Chib looked upon the financial side of the enterprise with disfavour, they had to do all they could to popularise 'it by holding meetings further south, one of the most conspicuous of which was held at Oamaru, and was run over the Awamoa property of the Hon. Mathew Holmes, who had kindly given his consent, and the course -was laid out by the master of the Christchurch Hounds, a good Irish sportsman of that period. The object of holding the meeting at Oamaru was to enlist the assistance of North Otago residents to keep the fixture going.' What a course it was that was laid out! There were stone dykes from four feet to four feet three inches in height, two doubles over a metalled by-road, and sundry others, all formidable, with d dug-out water hole, styled a water jump, with a downhill approach and takeoff, the negotiation of which almost beggars description. This water jump was “ the limit.” After the first race it Was a veritable quagmire, and the horses had partly to jump and partly to scramble through it —many with the assistance of the onlookers gathered there to witness the fun. None of the owners or jockeys had seen the course until a day or two before the races, and, some of them drawing the attention of the stewards to the unreasonableness of the course, they were told it was too late to do anything in the njatter, as, in fact, it was really. Moreover, those who had slow but sure horses welcomed the course as giving them a chance against the higher class animals. The master of hounds settled the matter by saying: “What nonsense! Do you mean to tel] me that any fence there would stop any man riding after hounds in full cry? ” It was useless to say to him that was a different proposition from racing four miles over such country. Somewhat miraculously, the day passed without any serious injury to man or beast. One steeplechase jockey, with a strong Yorkshire brogue, was, however, while nursing his. bruises, heard eloquently anathematising the course. He finished his discourse as follows: “We don’t want no (adjective) Mediterranean to cross, and the ’igh road makes ’ard falling.” That just gave an account about as accurate as possible of what the course was. The meeting at that time was a one-day one, the funds not allowing more. Sir Julius Vogel’s public works scheme was well under way, and as Dunedin and Christchurch were connected by rail a very full train went from Dunedin and returned the same night from Oamaru. i After this a good permanent course wa» r made at Riccarton. and the Gran < National was held afterwards under the management of the Canterbury Jockey Club, and as one of its .fixtures, as it s vn to the present time. The course at that time, however, was of a much stiffer nature than it now is, and could not be raced over at the nace we see to-day. We now see nothing like the ditch and rails at Cutts’s. for instance, or-the old double opposite the stand at Ford’s, the second of which Tanged from 4ft 2in to 4ft 4in. and was stiff—unbreakable, in fact. At that time there were no brush fences, which, /though formidable to look at. ar? negotiable if a horse jumps a little over three feet. The present course, however, is a very fine one. and horses racing ovei it present a very beautiful spectacle. The old identities cannot forget the stalwart” of that time. Some of the big jumpers of the past were as well bred as anything that is racing to-day. For examnle. there ■were Canard, hv Anteros out of the TradiKer mare Gossip: King Arthur, by Albany; Agent, another beautiful horse, by Ravensworth; and Clarence, by the same sire. These, however, are only a few of the noble animals of tljat tinr that could jump anything and travel fast as well when called unon to do so. a*> they often demonstrated on the training tracks.

A fixture which offered a considerable attraction for many between Christchurch and Dunedin up to about 1872 was the annual meeting of the South Canterbury Athletic Club, always held in Timaru in May. Many young men lived cn the upcountry runs of that period, and this wan ■really the annual holiday for some of

them, while for others it was the last gathering of the season before they entered into winter quarters. Many of these men were good athletes, and others come from north and south to assist at what was undoubtedly the best athletic gathering in the South Island, and, probably, in New Zealand. It was really a festival that lasted for a week At first the sports were held at the Saltwater Creek, some way out from town, but about 1871 a very fine ground was bought at the back of Timaru. and laid out foi sports purposes, with grand stand, dressing rooms, etc., and many things requisite for the purpose. Good performances were put up over all distances from 100 yards to four miles. The four-mile race wa.* only staged once, if the writer’s memory is correct, when it was won bv Melville Grey, who ran a wonderful race against a pedestrian named Monk, and won on the post by about a head, as we might say. As the event took too long, however, it was ruled out, and a mile was the maximum distance provided for in future Among the performances recorded at these gatherings were the 100 yards in lOJsec, the mile in 4min 30sec. the long jump 214 feet, and such like. Christchurch and Timaru itself used to supply most of the winners, the writer remembers only one good thing coming to Dunedin—the Lawyers’ Cup, I think, for most points in jumping events. Dunedin athletes could never get the necessary leave to go so far from home, but some who were not athletes would not have missed that week’s festivity for anything. The sports lasted for two days, after which all the athletes abandoned training methods and began to enjoy themselves after weeks of more or less privation. That they were noisy goes without saying, but so good matured that Inspector Brougham, who knew most of them well, gave every latitude, and they never abused this privilege. He knew that any damage that was inadvertently done would be paid for next day. The annual dinner after the sports was' always largely attended, and never to be forgotten for joyous hilarity and merriment with good music, speeches, and songs by the diners, who ranged from Dunedin to the Kaikouras, all there to enjoy themselves for that week. Dear old ‘Michael Studholme was always in the chair, supported as a rule by Fred Teschmaker on the left, and perhaps Mr W. Rolleston (a name to conjure with in New Zealand history), or some equally important person on his right hand. It was a jovial night always, as those who will remember the leading spirits of that festive throng— Denniston and Wallace, of Haldon Station, “ Tom ” Teschmaker, of Otaio. Cunningham Smith, Lachlan, Al’Pherson, and others—will admit. After the annual dinner was the annual club ball, which always, as one might say, suffered nothing in prestige in comparison with what had gone before. The Christchurch Hounds were always brought down by invitation for that week, in which, for two days, the New Zealand and Australian Land Company offered its two properties, the Levels and Patearoa, to be hunted over, and for those two days the company entertained largely at both places. The first afternoon’s run was always held at the Levels, over well-grassed lands with beautifully well-kept gorse hedges to negotiate. A drag was the bait and the hunts were most enjoyable for those well mounted, as they were small steeplechases, and (as Jorrocks of ancient fame would have said) the sport of kings, the image of war without 70 per cent, of its danger. Riders got excited sometimes, however, and funny things happened. On one occasion the hounds doubled towards the homestead to give the -onlookers a chance of seeing the 40 or 50 horsemen gallop past and take a fence in front of that vantage point. They were after-' wards to go through a gateway. Some wag had closed the gate, as it turned out, after the master and huntsman had gone through with the hounds. In the meantime the hounds were laid on across the fence almost immediately, the result being a regular block, everybody shouting out for the gate to be opened, and no one being at hand to do it. At that moment up thundered A. St. George Hammersly on his old hunter Scissors, well known as a perfect jumper and also a very hard puller. Hammersly was making a beeline for that point and when he saw a crowd at that gate, having been previously thrown out, and wanting to be in at the finish, he simply charged down that slope, calling lustily to those in front to clear out of the way One sportsman, who was trying his best to get the gate open, had barely time to get out of the way when Scissors was upon him, and jumped both the horse and gate, narrowly missing the horseman, who got the fright of his life. That rash freak went down as a “ classic ” for a long time, but no doubt has long been forgotten by most of those who were present. In the evening a delightful dance was always given at the big house, where the general manager of the company (Mr Davidson) lived. The general manager of the Levels Estate in those days was Mr Charles Orbell, without whom those gatherings would not ha-e been quite the -same. He became the owner later on of the homestead block, in the possession of which he was followe<Tby his son. The hunt was carried out next day at the Pareora Station, the manager of which was Mr Andrew Turnbull, a very worthy and willing host. As, poor man, he was a bachelor, he was ably assisted by some of his Timaru lady friends. The programme was not quite the same as at the Levels, a lunch being substituted for the dance.

The concluding day of that week was always spent at Mr Michael Studholme’s Waimate Estate, where the hounds hunted on the Saturday after travelling down from Pareora the day before. On that occasion the big house was usually full of visitors, as was also the manager’s cottage adjoining, and the overflow found quarters at the township if necessary, the distance from Timaru being about 30 miles. Mr Studholme, or “ Old Michael,” as he used to be affectionately spoken of, was not a great talker, but he was always taking notes and, when occasion warranted, he expressed his opinions very freely, and with a very decided dislike of anything approaching insincerity. He always left the entertainment of the ladies in the evening to others who, he would say, were better at that kind of thing than himself, and he would be found at the manager’s cottage where a special armchair was always kept for him, and where later in the evening the young men of the party would congregate to talk over the events of the day. They all regarded him with great affection as he

”? 4he corner smoking his pipe and listening to the .surrounding banter, but always very much on tin* " qui vive ” for anything interesting. Of his mode of thought the following little incident which happened on the very last of these festive gatherings will serve as an illustration. A friend from Christchurch, whom he expected, had gone to Timaru after the hunting was over without letting him know. At this he expressed great disappointment and surprise. Someone made some remark in disparagement of Ifis friends habits, when a young curate, lately from Home, lisped out, “Well, thank God, I have never had any inclination to do that kind of thing.” To everybody’s astonishment, “ Old Michael ” waking up as it were, from a deep study of the embers m the fireplace, and look- <’< n & t le . c ! ir ™. e through and through, said, Humph. Then I don’t think much of ■ J ent on smoking. Shortly after this the young fellow wended his way back to the big house. A neighbour, W «% the V e ’ said a Bttle later to his host, Surely, Studholme, you didn’t hat y ou 6aid to that young fellow? The reply was, “ Yes, I meant every word of it; I can’t stand those sanctimonious people, who, like, the Pharisees ld ’ are alwa ys thanking the Almighty that they are not as other people. No I Ik? those who can look after themselves, while possessing al] the qualities, good and bad, which are common to us all.” that really gives an idea of the inner character of the man who was indeed the grand old man of South Canterbury. The and a fullv fter Ji' ar » S I , ea f ned to appreciate y und ® r stand the man who, as one a iSnblfY’ had brou S ht him up with a double turn on one occasion. Mr Studholme s manager. E. Cameron, or “ Teddv ” TnGnT ca * ,ed hy those who knew him intimately, was his right-hand man to the old ’ hnrll J® J? leasan ,t to know that fine old homestead, with some of the adof flip B nl C i >U ? try ’ ’ 8 ’ n tbe Possession St