Early Days in Central Otago

Otago Witness, Issue 3993, 23 September 1930, Page 6

Early Days in Central Otago

Being Tales Jg- A ft <-/ of Times gone by

by

Robert Gilkison

CHAPTER XIII.—SETTLING DOWN.

Who set this ancient quarrel new abroach?

—Romeo and Juliet.

After the fever heat of the first rushes came the period of settling down, though it must be remarked that the history of the becalming period was coloured with not a few purple patches. A greater calm began to pervade the goldfields towns liable to be broken by only a few occasional tempests. Buildings of wood and iron took the place of the early tents, hospitals and churches of a primitive type sprang into existence, while some garden enthusiasts began to plant flowers and even trees. A kindly Government converted the towns into boroughs, and the people looked around to find men suitable to act as mayors and councillors.

Many curious incidents attached to the proceedings of these earliest councils on the goldfields, and most famous of the old-time mayors was Captain Jackson Barry. He was a hardy, self-dependent old sea dog, who had roamed about the world for fifty years, and in that time had had many extraordinary adventures. He used to tell in his own inimitable and artless way how he had been shipwrecked, and he and two others, after swimming about in the sea for a long time, spied something large amid the waves. With difficulty they reached it, and, exhausted, climbed on it, and when daylight came they found they were floating on a dead whale! He remembered Arthur Orton, “ the claimant,” at Castlemaine, and in his career claimed to have, interviewed robbers and bushrangers as well as princes and governors. Although a man of only slight education in letters, he subsequently published a book entitled ‘ ‘ Past and Present, ’ ’ but, unfortunately, had it edited by a journalist, who excised all the naughty but racy expressions with which the captain used to embellish his tales. However, if one half of the stories told in the book are true, he had seen much more of life than it is the average lot of man to experience. About 1862 he was seized with the gold fever, and, being a man of action, carted, flour by bullock wagon to the Dunstan, swam the Molyneux, and drove a mob of sheep to Fox’s and Skippers. Afterwards, seeing an opportunity for business at the new township called “ The Junction,” and since known as Cromwell, he opened a butcher’s shop there, and having broken a meat monopoly and reduced prices to the public, he acquired great temporary popularity and was elected first Mayor of Cromwell. His quarter-deck manner of repressing rowdy seamen, however, proved somewhat out of place when he found himself in the chair in the Council Chamber, and by his autocratic methods he gave great offence to his councillors. Accordingly, when on one occasion he went away to Dunedin, the other members carried a vote in his absence censuring him for his behaviour. When the next meeting took place, the minutes were read. “ Who moved that? ” said Barry, referring to the hostile vote. “ I did,” said a councillor. With that, Barry rose from his chair* locked the door, knocked the opposing councillor down, picked him up in his arms, and threw him out of the window. “ Who seconded it? ” demanded his Worship, and no one replied. “ Then if it was not seconded, it was informal,” said Barry, and calmly excised the paragraph from the minutes. Two other councillors leaped through the window, and the meeting came to an untimely end. With Barry the habit was promptly to return any real or fancied injury with a blow, and only once did he apologise. On that occasion he was a party to a suit and also a witness in a goldmining case tried at Maeetown. So exasperated was he with the questions put to him by Mr Finn, the opposing counsel, that, in the face of the court he made a violent rush at the annoying legal practitioner. Being seized by the bailiff and taken into custody, he was kept there until he had made some kind of apology, which Mr Finn accepted. When it was known that Governor -Grey was about to travel through the goldfields, a discussion took place in the Cromwell Council as to a public reception, and a mayoral robe was suggested. “Yes,” said Barry, “we must have a mayoral robe, and it must be lined with vermin.” This suggestion must have been too much for the council, as it was never carried out. When the Governor arrived, he was pressed by the Mayor to inspect his pigs, for, dearer to Barry’s heart than his office or robes, were his prize boars. So off went the Governor to the pig styes. Sir George missed nothing, and thoroughly

enjoyed himself, and •when he left he wrung Mr Barry by the hand and said, “ I would not have missed this for worlds.” One can imagine how Sir George’s eyes would twinkle as he spoke, but he left Barry in a good humour and delighted with himself and his Excellency. Bracken was much tickled with the old mariner’s tales and adventures, and embalmed them in verse:—

Who wrote a book of wondrous tales, And stories told of hulks and gaols, And floated on the backs of whales?— Why, Captain Jackson Barry.

Who knew the claimant at a glance— At Castlemaine they met by chance— And solved the Tichbourne heir romance? — Why, Captain Jackson Barry.

Who took a drive down Rotten Row Between two real live lords, you know, And never yet has learned to blow?— Why, Captain Jackson Barry.

Who told about the wondrous ores That lie around New Zealand’s shores, And showed Sir George his Cromwell boars’— Why, Captain Jackson Barry.

Who got a letter from the Queen? Writ by her own fair hand I ween, Saying, Barry, dear, your book I’ve seen, Dear Captain Jackson Barry.”

When the old Provincial System was abolished and the County System was put in its place in New Zealand in 1877 a curious clash of contending forces ■was aroused in.the new County of Vincent, and something of the old spirit of Captain Barry reasserted itself. The Vincent County was named after Vincent Pyke, the first member of Parliament for the Dunstan, and is divided into two parts by the Dunstan Range. Although similar in many respects, these two parts have many conflicting interests, and these caused in the early days an intense feeling of jealousy and distrust between Cromwell in the northern part and Clyde and Alexandra in the southern.

Mr Pyke was the .first county chairman, and, in reply to a questioner, stated that he would support the appointment of Cromwell as the county town if Cromwell gave up its status as a borough and merged into the countv. 1 As Cromwell never complied with this condition, while Clyde did, Mr Pyke held himself free from the promise; but, unfortunately, Cromwell voters thought otherwise’ When on February 3,1877, Mr Fraser moved that Clyde be the meeting place, Pyke, in the chair, was in a quandary, for he loved Clyde, but feared to offend Cromwell. He solved the problem by dividing himself and giving his deliberative vote for Cromwell, but his casting vote against it. As a result Clyde became and remained the county town, but Pyke earned the undying hatred of Cromwell and its residents.

The latter were furious. They denounced Pyke as a traitor and a cheat, and called a public meeting to be held in the open air to punish him. A dummy representing Pyke was tried and condemned amid general execration, and was then tied to a ladder, carted round the'town, and flung into the boiling Clutha. Two weeks later a ship, arriving at Port Chalmers, reported wreckage. “ Somewhere off the Nuggets Lighthouse,” said the captain, “ we spied the body of a man lashed to a ladder. It was too stormy to lower our boats.”

No doubt this was the last of poor Pyke’s effigy, which had been carried 200 miles from the place where it was first cast into the deep.

But Cromwell councillors did not forget. They only waited their time. And by and by their opportunity came. In 1882 Pyke determined to resign his chairmanship of the County Council, and then set in a long , and protracted struggle to secure the vacant seat. The parties were evenly balanced in numbers, and whichever held the coveted chair could, by means of the easting vote, carry things its own way. If Cromwell could win the majority, it would very soon transfer the centre of county management to its own town.

We shall not attempt to give a detailed account of the assaults by one side and repulse by the other, the dashing attacks and stubborn defences, the skirmishing and sharj>