From surgeon to student: a residential history of 86 Queen Street

Tags

flatting, philosophy, politics

This post was researched and written by University of Otago history student Bree Wooller in 2017.

86 Queen Street 2016. Photographed by Bree Wooller.

North Dunedin has not always been occupied by students. For most of its history it has been just another suburb. Now, the houses are crumbling, and we risk losing the heritage and character that has become iconic to the area.

The gold rush of the 1860s made Dunedin the richest and most highly populated province in New Zealand.[1] This influx of wealth influenced the building of large, elegant, houses along the town belt. In 1880, David Henderson built a house at 86 Queen Street. In its early years 86 Queen was considered a charming, first-class, modern residence.[2] The early occupants were wealthy; regular adverts posted in the local papers look for domestic help, and furniture auctions reveal the occupants lavish lifestyle.[3] Walnut pianos, marble vases, and oil paintings were common furnishings in 86 Queen Street at the time.[4]

Professor Salmond had a brief occupancy till his death in 1917. Photographed by Morris, 1914. Image courtesy of Hocken Collections, P2018-013-005.

John Laing, a ‘foreign agent,’ owned the house from 1909 to 1924. He lived there with his wife Kathleen, son John Carroll, and daughter Katherine.[5] John Carroll Laing was killed in action in Italy, 1943.[6] Professor William Salmond, known for his position on the chair of mental and moral philosophy at Otago University, appears to have resided at the house for a brief amount of time up until his death in 1917.[7] Kathleen Laing’s brother, Dr Francis Hotop, a surgeon at Dunedin Hospital lived with the family for a period around 1922.[8] Their father, Lewis Hotop, a pharmacist and three-time Mayor of Queenstown, was also living at the residence until his death in 1922.[9]

House Interior 2016. Contrast of modern repairs and older features in balusters and stained window panes. Photographed by Bree Wooller, July 2016.

A new upstairs room was added in 1913, electricity was connected during the renovations.[10] In 1926, a garage was added at the front of the house.[11]

90 years ago, Dunedin was feeling the effects of the Great Depression.[12] Large houses along the town belt became too hard to maintain during this economic downturn, most were split into multiple dwellings. In the late 1930s, 86 Queen Street was split into a top and bottom flat.[13]

The house was rented in this period by a fast-changing array of occupants. Tenants included Miss Anna Glover, a spinster, who lived in the top flat 1940 to 1946, and an engineer named David Jack, who lived in the bottom flat from 1939-41.[14] The flat was owned by a retired salesman, Thomas McGoldrick, from 1944 till his death in 1969.[15] In 1958, the iconic yellow roughcasting replaced the houses traditional wooden exterior, making it resemble its present-day appearance.

Between 1969 and 1979, 86 Queen Street was owned and occupied by Richard Mulgan and his wife Margaret.[16] Mulgan was a professor of political studies at Otago University, known for his role on the New Zealand Royal Commission of 1985, which recommended the adoption of an MMP political system. Mulgan converted 86 Queen back to a single house, and remodelled the kitchen in 1976. From 1979, the flat was owned and occupied by Duncan Roper and his wife Mirrel.[17] Duncan was a tutor at the university while residing in the house.

50 years ago, the university roll was on a steady climb, and the number of students wanting to flat was on the rise.[18] In 1956, 17% of the student population lived in flats, and this rose to 39% of students in 1972.[19]

Student Occupation at 86 Queen Street. Photographed by Bree Wooller, October 2016.

The beginning of student occupation at 86 Queen Street is ambiguous. Names and dates in an upstairs room suggest students were living in the flat from 2001, if not earlier. 86 Queen Street became known as “The Yeast Infection” in 2008.

In 2017, we face the continued issue of degrading student flats. Maintenance and care is needed to preserve old houses such as 86 Queen Street. Without this, many historic flats will be demolished. Along with them, aspects of student culture, and landmarks of the first settler’s Dunedin will be lost forever.

Notes

[1] Erik Olssen, A History of Otago (Dunedin, N.Z. : McIndoe,1984), 69.

[2] Park, Reynolds and Co, “Charming City Residence and Choice Piece of Ground” Evening Star (Issue: 11528), 20^th April 1901.

[3] Gow, “Wanted, Respectful General Servant”, Evening Star (Issue 11411), 1 December 1900.; Mrs Laing “Wanted, Young Lady”, Evening Star (Issue: 14150), 30^th October 1913.; Mrs George Mackie, “Wanted, Young Girl” Otago Daily Times (Issue: 19225), 16^th July 1924.

[4] Park, Reynolds and Co, “Superior Household Furniture”, Evening Star (Issue: 11528), 20^th April 1901.

[5] Laing, “Birth Notices”, Otago Witness (Issue 3060), 6^th November 1912; Wise’s New Zealand Post Office Directory, 1909-1924.

[6] Northern Cemetery, block 191, plot 86, 85. New Zealand, Cemetery Records, 1800-2007. Ancestry.com.

[7] “Auctions – Estate of the Late Professor Salmond” Evening Star (Issue 16422), 12^th May 1917.; Wise’s New Zealand Post Office Directory, 1917.

[8] Dr F. R. Hotop, “Professional Advertisement – Commenced Practice”, Otago Daily Times (Issue 18518), 31^st March 1922.  

[9] Hotop “Death Notice”, Otago Daily Times, (Issue 18673), 30^th September 1922.

[10] Electricity Records, 3^rd July 1913. Register No. 3329. Dunedin City Council Archives.

[11] Building Plans, 1926. No. 8788. Dunedin City Council Archives.

[12] Olssen, 90.

[13] Electricity Records, 24^th June 1940. Register No. 32313. Dunedin City Council Archives.

[14] Wise’s New Zealand Post Office Directory, 1940, 1942, 1943, 1946.; Electricity Records Register No. 32313.

[15] Anderson Bay Cemetery, block 259, plot 27. New Zealand, Cemetery Records, 1800-2007. Ancestry.com; Electricity Records Register No. 32313; Wise’s New Zealand Post Office Directory, 1947, 1950-1, 1953-4, 1955.

[16] Dunedin, Otago, 1978. New Zealand Electoral Rolls, 1853–1981. Auckland, New Zealand: BAB microfilming. Microfiche publication, 4032 fiche. Ancestry.com.

[17] Dunedin, Otago, 1981. New Zealand Electoral Rolls, 1853–1981.

[18] Debby Foster “No Mixing By Students” in Tower Turmoil: Characters and Controversies at the University of Otago, ed. Time Keepers. (Dunedin: Department of History, University of Otago, 2005) 129

[19] Sam Elworthy, Ritual Song of Defiance: A Social History of Students at the University of Otago, (Dunedin: OUSA, 1990), 199.

Bibliography

Auckland Museum Online Cenotaph. J C Laing. Record: C28301, Service Number: 600485.

Building Plans, No. 8788. Dunedin City Council Archives.

Evening Star. Dunedin, New Zealand, 1 December 1900 – 12 May 1917.

Electricity Records, 3^rd July 1913. Register No. 3329. Dunedin City Council Archives.

Electricity Records, 24^th June 1940. Register No. 32313. Dunedin City Council Archives.

Elworthy, Sam. Ritual Song of Defiance: A Social History of Students at the University of Otago. Dunedin: OUSA. 1990.

Foster, Debby. “No Mixing By Students.” In Tower Turmoil: Characters and Controversies at the University of Otago, edited by Time Keepers. Dunedin: Department of History, University of Otago. 2005.

McLeod, Catherine. “Halls of residence in the 1960s: curfews, couples and controversy.” In Tower Turmoil: Characters and Controversies at the University of Otago, edited by Time Keepers. Dunedin: Department of History, University of Otago. 2005.

New Zealand Electoral Rolls, 1853–1981. Auckland, New Zealand: BAB microfilming. Microfiche publication, 4032 fiche. Ancestry.com.

New Zealand, Cemetery Records, 1800-2007. Ancestry.com.

Olssen, Erik. A History of Otago. Dunedin: McIndoe, 1984.

Otago Daily Times. Dunedin, New Zealand, 31 March 1922 – 16 July 1924.

Otago Witness, Dunedin, New Zealand, 17 March 1898.- 6 November 1912.

Professor W. Salmond, by Morris Phot, 1914. Hocken Collections (c/nF189/1)

Wise’s New Zealand Post Office Directory, 1898-1955. New Zealand, City & Area Directories, 1866-1955. Microfilm publication, 921 fiche. Anne Bromell Collection. Ancestry.com.

Where it all began

Tags

1870s, 1930s

The university’s first home, complete with ‘loungers’, photographed around 1877. Image courtesy of the Hocken Collections, University of Otago Library records, 96-111/15, S17-612b.

The University of Otago had its first home in Dunedin’s first Oamaru-stone building, designed by William Mason in neoclassical style for a post office. As the building neared completion in 1867, Dunedinites began imagining other uses for it; provincial superintendent James Macandrew suggested it ‘might be turned to much better account than that of a Post Office’. He convinced the government to turn the building over to the province in exchange for a more modest post office building. Locals were already using the ‘new post office’ for meetings and balls, but its first long-term tenant was the Otago Museum. It was the obvious accommodation for the university, and in 1871 – the year that classes began – it moved in. The building wasn’t perfect: the University Council reported it spent ‘a large sum in providing a new roof for the hall, in altering the staircase, and in adapting the building generally to the purposes of a University’. That was, however, cheaper and quicker than starting from scratch.

The Princes St location, right in the centre of town, was fitting for a university which modelled itself on urban foundations such as Edinburgh and London rather than ‘the sleepy cloisters’ of Oxbridge, but it did have its problems. The ‘footpath before its door was a favourite resort for loungers’, suggests George Thompson in the jubilee history, and parental concerns about sending their offspring to ‘the temptations and seductions of a town life’ were real. The biggest problem, though, was the lack of space for an expanding institution, which was sharing the building with the museum and art school and wrangled constant requests from citizens for use of the hall. The University Council wanted to develop residential accommodation for students and, though that didn’t happen for several decades, it did prompt the initial plans to move to a new site.

In 1874 the Otago Provincial Council granted the university a new site in part of the ‘old cemetery reserve’ (subsequently used for Arthur Street School and the Otago Boys’ High School). When, a few months later, the museum was allocated a new site in Great King Street, the Arthur Street location seemed less ideal; University Council member Donald Stuart argued ‘it was absolutely necessary that the Museum be situated in close proximity to the University, on account of the zoological, botanical, and medical classes’. In 1875, after the necessary legislation was passed, the cemetery reserve land was swapped for a new site, conveniently close to the museum and hospital, known as the botanical garden reserve. After delay finding a buyer for its original building, the council began construction on its new home beside the Leith in 1878.

The Colonial Bank became the proud owner of the Princes Street building. Unfortunately for the university, it failed to make its intention to transfer the clock to its new building clear in the sale contract and the Colonial Bank insisted on keeping it. The indebted university could not afford to purchase another and its new Clocktower Building had no clock until 1931, when one donated by the chancellor, Thomas Sidey, was installed. It was a fitting gift by ‘Summertime’ Sidey, the politician who succeeded after a long campaign in introducing daylight saving time to New Zealand. The original university building later became the Dunedin Stock Exchange; it was demolished in 1969 and John Wickliffe House now stands on its site.

Princes Street, featuring the Stock Exchange building with its clocktower, around 1926. Image courtesy of the Alexander Turnbull Library, Sydney Charles Smith photographs, 1/2-046489-G.

From beginnings to endings: today is my last official day of work on the 5-year (part-time) project to write a new history of the University of Otago! That project is now in the capable hands of the excellent team at Otago University Press. They will publish the book late in 2018, in time for the 150th celebrations of 2019. This blog has been an important part of the project for me. It began in mid-2013 with weekly posts, but later became fortnightly, then monthly; this year it has been more sporadic as I have been preoccupied with completing the book. It has been wonderful to have the opportunity to share here some of the great stories I’ve encountered. My sincere thanks to everybody who has read the blog, and particularly to those who have responded with extra information, corrections and encouragement, along with those who have spread the word about the blog and the project. Not all of the 130 stories and accompanying images I’ve shared here will appear in the book – there simply isn’t room for all of them – but many will.

This blog will not die. We’re currently finalising arrangements for its new management and some Otago history students have been working on new stories – look out for those next year! I’ll still be at the University of Otago, continuing in my other role, in the archives at the Hocken Collections. You can still contact me there with queries about the fascinating history of New Zealand’s first university.

Ngā mihi nui ki a koutou katoa,

Ali Clarke, December 2017

 

Building a medical campus

Tags

1910s, 1920s, 1940s, 1950s, 1960s, 1970s, anatomy, biochemistry, library, medicine, microbiology, obstetrics and gynaecology, pharmacology, pharmacy, physiology, preventive and social medicine, surgery

An aerial view showing the medical school and hospital buildings, c.1970. The low-rise 1950s building replaced by the Sayers building can be seen between the Wellcome and Ferguson buildings, with cars parked in front. At the hospital, the clinical services building, opened in 1968, can be seen, but construction is yet to begin on the ward block, which opened in 1980. Several of the buildings in the block east of the hospital are now part of the university: the original Queen Mary maternity hospital now houses the surveying school and marine science department; the 2nd Queen Mary hospital is Hayward College, and the old nurses’ homes are Cumberland College. Image courtesy of the Hocken Collections, University of Otago Medical School Alumnus Association records, MS-1537/806, S17-517b.

There’s a significant university anniversary this year: it’s a century since the medical school opened its first Great King Street building. Otago medical classes started out in the university’s original building in Princes Street, but soon moved to the purpose-built anatomy and chemistry block (now the geology building) on the new site near the Leith. Opened in 1878, the new premises incorporated a lecture room, dissection room, preparation room, morgue, laboratory, anatomy room and professor’s office for the medical school. The facilities weren’t large – they were designed to cater for classes of a dozen or so – and the building was extended in 1883 and again in 1905, to provide for the expanding school and its first physiology professor. As medical student numbers continued to expand, from 80 in 1905 to 155 in 1914, space became desperately short and the medical faculty won government approval for further extensions to the anatomy and physiology departments, plus a new building to house the pathology and bacteriology (microbiology) departments, along with other subjects being taught in far from ideal conditions in the crowded hospital.

The site of the new building – in Great King Street, opposite the hospital – was controversial. Some university council members wanted all new developments to be on the existing campus, but medical academics wanted to be closer to the hospital, and the chancellor, Andrew Cameron, was on their side. Sydney Champtaloup, professor of public health and bacteriology, revealed the thinking behind the move during the 1914 public appeal for funds for the new building. After completing their studies in anatomy and physiology, which would still be taught at the university, said Champtaloup, ‘students are intimately associated with the Hospital. At present students attend some classes at the University, and have then to proceed to the Hospital for others, and to return to the University later. This involves a great waste of time and energy. All lectures and practical classes for senior students should be held in a suitable building near the Hospital’. He also pointed out that the hospital and university both required bacteriology and pathology labs, and ‘a combination of these requirements in one building makes for efficiency and economy, but that building to meet Hospital requirements must be either in the Hospital grounds or in its close proximity’. Although he didn’t mention it, Champtaloup would have to waste considerable time and energy himself if the new building wasn’t close to the hospital, since he was in charge of its bacteriology services.

The bacteriology and pathology building, later known as the Scott building, which opened in 1917. Image courtesy of the Hocken Collections, University of Otago Medical School Alumnus Assocation records, MS-1537/636, S17-517a.

The public appeal raised the goodly sum of £8000 (over $1 million in 2017 values), which included £2000 from William Dawson (a brewer who made a fortune as one of the founders of Speight’s) and £1000 from members of the medical faculty. It was matched by the government, though the project ran considerably over budget thanks to ‘the presence of subterranean water, later found to characterise the whole area’, along with rising prices due to war conditions. The new building, designed by Mason and Wales and built by Fletcher Brothers, opened in 1917. Of brick with Oamaru stone facings, its neoclassical style seemed quite plain to contemporaries; the Evening Star noted some ‘pretty stained glass’ in the entrance hall was ‘one of the few ornamentations’. The building was large and well-lit, with a lecture theatre able to ‘seat 150 students and give everyone plenty of elbow room’ and other smaller lecture rooms; they incorporated facilities for the latest technology, the lantern slide. The pathology department was on the first floor and the bacteriology department on the second floor; there were also rooms dedicated to medical jurisprudence and materia medica (pharmacology), the library, specimen museum and an assortment of staff and student facilities. ‘The roof is used for store rooms, etc.’, reported the Star with some delicacy; that was where animals and food stores were housed.

The new building was just the beginning. Medical dean Lindo Ferguson had ambitious plans; he imagined the school expanding to take up the entire side of the Great King Street block facing the hospital, replacing its collection of old cottages and shops. Not everybody approved, and there was another battle over the new anatomy and physiology building. In 1919 university council members decided that further extensions to those departments should be on the main university campus, provoking a determined – and successful – campaign by the medical faculty, medical association and ODT to have them change their minds and instead construct a large new building adjoining the 1917 one. Physiology professor John Malcolm countered one of the main objections to the Great King Street site: ‘It had been said that the social life of the university was cut in two through the existing arrangements; and if that were so how about the scientific life of the university? Was it not cut in two as well? The most important was the human life’. After considerable delays in raising funds, in 1927 a splendid new building – ‘one of Dunedin’s most handsome’, declared the ODT – was opened. Designed by Edmund Anscombe in brick and stone facings to complement its neighbour, it provided accommodation for not just anatomy and physiology, but also the ‘sub-departments’ of histology, biochemistry and pharmacology. It had the ‘necessary classrooms, laboratories, and research rooms for a school averaging an annual class of 50 students’.

At the opening of the new block, Ferguson joked that ‘if a dean were content he was not fit to hold his position. No one knew the shortcomings of a school better than the dean, and if the dean thought that enough had been done he should be pole-axed’. He continued to dream of further expansion, and had already foiled suggestions the new dental school building should be immediately next to the medical school; instead its new 1926 building (now the Marples building) was constructed on the next block. Ferguson’s successors took up his scheme and in the midst of World War II work began on yet another large building. It had the prosaic name of ‘the south block’, but later the various buildings were named after the medical deans, according to their chronology, and it became the Hercus building, after third dean Charles Hercus; the earlier buildings were named for the first two deans, John Halliday Scott and Lindo Ferguson.

The Ferguson building (opened 1927), with the Scott building (1917) and Hercus building (1948) in the distance. Image courtesy of the Hocken Collections, University of Otago Medical School Alumnus Association records, MS-1537/637, S17-517c.

The south block was in brick and of similar scale to its neighbours, but the similarities ended there; it was a striking example of art deco, designed by Miller White and Dunn. Hercus recounted how the Minister of Education, Rex Mason, ‘turned down our original severely utilitarian plan with the statement, “This is not a factory, but a national building of great importance, and it must bear the marks of its function”’. The new design incorporated various artworks, most notably a sculptured marble panel by Richard Gross above the main Hanover Street entrance; there were also plaster murals inside. Building was a challenge because of wartime labour and supply shortages; four Dunedin building firms – Love, Naylor, Mitchells and McLellans – formed the Associated Builders consortium to complete the project. Some students obtained holiday work helping with the demolition and ground works for the foundations, which were dug down 15 metres, but the foreman ‘had to keep his eye on them because many would jump the fence and be off’. The building opened in 1948 and boasted 210 rooms; it became a new home for the preventive medicine, pathology and bacteriology departments and had two dedicated research floors, one of them for animals.

The new south block (Hercus building) under construction in the 1940s, looking east along Hanover Street. Image courtesy of the Hocken Collections, University of Otago Medical School Alumnus Association, MS-1537/631, S15-619f.

The next building development was less imposing and not destined to last for long: a single-storey brick building, completed in 1956 next to the Ferguson building, provided a space for the surgery and obstetrics and gynaecology departments. Next to it, on the corner of Frederick and Great King Streets, appeared in 1963 the Wellcome Research Institute. Funded entirely by the Wellcome Trust, which was created from a pharmaceutical fortune, the new building was a tribute to the important research on hypertension by Otago medical professor Horace Smirk, and provided a space for various research teams. It soon developed the nickname ‘Hori’s whare’, while the dental school was ‘Jack’s shack’ after dental dean John Walsh and the pharmacology department in the old Knox Sunday school was ‘Fred’s shed’ after its professor, Fred Fastier. The Wellcome building was designed by Niel Wales, the latest generation in old Dunedin firm Mason and Wales, which had also been responsible for the Scott building; the new building’s international style, with its simple forms and lack of ornamentation, reflected the architectural fashion of the period.

The next buildings took the medical campus further into the realms of new architecture. In 1972 the medical library acquired a new home in the Sayers building, named for the fourth dean, Ted Sayers. The building, which replaced the 1950s surgery and O & G construction, also included accommodation for the medical school administration. A year later the multi-storey Adams building (Bill Adams was the fifth dean) emerged behind it, with an entrance from Frederick Street; it provided new space for the preventive and social medicine, pharmacology, pharmacy and surgery departments, along with the university’s higher education development centre. The Sayers building was designed by Alan Neil of Fraser Oakley Pinfold. A 1994 exhibition on University of Otago architecture suggested his ‘use of fair-faced concrete is an essay in Brutalism’. The Adams building was designed by Miller White and Dunn and the design was recycled in the microbiology building, opened in 1974 on Cumberland Street. The 1994 exhibition noted its utilitarian architecture: it ‘appears to have been designed from the inside out’ and ‘no thought appears to have been given to the external appearance .… Built in the tradition of tower blocks in a park-way, it does not invite inspection of detailing’.

The new Sayers (front) and Adams buildings in the 1970s. Image courtesy of the Hocken Collections, University of Otago Medical School Alumnus Association records, MS-1537/665, S17-517d.

With the 1970s buildings completed, Lindo Ferguson’s 1910s vision of a medical school encompassing the length of the block was fulfilled. Indeed, the school was already spreading much further afield, with microbiology and biochemistry buildings on the new science campus in Cumberland Street and new developments in Christchurch and Wellington. At its Great King Street home base, the school was a showcase of 20^th century architecture, from neoclassicism and art deco to international style and brutalism. Across the street, Dunedin Hospital, whose presence had drawn the medical school to this location, also went through multiple developments. That, however, is a whole other story.

Rounding off 2015

It’s that season again – time to look back on the year that’s been! My thanks to everybody who has read the blog this year and made it all worthwhile. The 2015 stories which attracted the most ‘hits’ were –

1. Preparing for the health professions (the history of Health Sciences First Year and its predecessor, the intermediate year)
2. Maori Studies celebrates (the first 25 years of Te Tumu)
3. Water of Leith – friend or foe? (floods)
4. Radical Carrington (NZ’s first co-ed residential college)
5. The centenary project – UniCol (the beginnings of UniCol)
6. Building the sciences (the 1970s science buildings)
7. Heading to the hills (early years of the tramping club)
8. Early Chinese students (this one’s self-explanatory!)
9. The lives of presidents (stories of OUSA presidents)
10. The cost of an education (uni fees through the years)

Some old favourites are still getting plenty of hits, too, including Our oldest building, the tale of Mellor House, built in 1862. This year I had the pleasure of meeting Elizabeth MacAvoy, a descendant of the Cook family who owned this house for many decades before the university purchased it in 1946. Liz’s father Redmond Cook, who graduated in medicine from Otago in 1942, grew up in the house and she kindly shared some photographs and information about the family.

An undated snapshot of the Cook family home, now Mellor House, courtesy of Elizabeth MacAvoy.

Brothers Alfred Cook (1853-1945) and George Cook (1851-1942) outside the family home. Image courtesy of Elizabeth MacAvoy.

Another shot of the Cook family garden, courtesy of Elizabeth MacAvoy.

Ann Cook, born in 1825, lived in the Union Street house from 1863 until her death in 1907. When some of the Arana boys moved into Mellor House in 1946 they discovered some old-fashioned women’s clothing in a wardrobe – perhaps Ann’s? Image courtesy of Elizabeth MacAvoy.

My real life meeting with Liz at her Bannockburn home shows the roundabout ways of social media – I wrote a story on this blog, the Otago Daily Times picked it up and published an article, Liz came across the newspaper story and phoned me, we exchanged information by email, and eventually we met in person. Putting stories out into the world and getting feedback and further information about them has been very helpful – I am most grateful to everybody who has got in touch about stories on the blog, and I must put in a special word for those who have pointed out errors, thus saving me from embarrassment when the book is eventually published! A hearty thanks also to those who have provided information and/or images for posts, and those who helped publicise the blog, particularly the Hocken Collections, history and art history department, alumni office and Susan Baxter (the university social media advisor).

This blog will now take a wee break, but I’ll be back in February 2016 with more tales from the University of Otago’s fascinating history. In the meantime, if you’re interested in New Zealand history you may like to check out another blog, Clarke’s Quill, where I share some of my other history research. Have a great summer everybody!

Building the sciences

Tags

1970s, 2010s, biochemistry, chemistry, human nutrition, mathematics, microbiology, physics

Construction underway on the Science I and biochemistry buildings, around 1970. Image courtesy of Arthur Campbell.

With work now underway on a major redevelopment of the Science I building, it seems a good time to look back at the beginnings of this and the four large science buildings which neighbour it: Science II (like Science I, occupied by chemistry and human nutrition), Science III (physics, maths and statistics and the science library), the biochemistry building and the microbiology building.

These buildings were part of a major expansion of the university campus during the 1960s and 1970s, necessary to cater for rapidly rising student numbers. Growth was particularly evident in the science departments, which were straining at the seams in their original locations (now known as the registry and geology buildings). The Interim Science Building (discussed in an earlier blog post), provided some extra space from 1965, but much more was needed. In 1960 there were 300 students studying in the science faculty, by 1970 there were 1420 and by 1977, when the last of the five buildings was completed, there were 1663 science students. Meanwhile, moving microbiology and biochemistry into new buildings provided more space in the medical school, which also had to cater for a growing roll.

Development began with the demolition of existing buildings in the block bounded by Cumberland, St David, Castle and Union streets, which once accommodated around 100 low-cost dwellings, crowded together along little alleyways. In late 1968 construction commenced on the first new building, then known as the chemistry phase I building, with the department moving in early in 1971. Science I, as it is now called, was designed by Ministry of Works architects in light and dark tones of grey to ‘blend in’ with the older university buildings. Next out of the ground was the biochemistry building, designed by Allingham, Harrison and Partners as a home for this rapidly growing department, previously squeezed into the Lindo Ferguson Building with much of the medical school. Next was the chemistry research building (Science II), which adjoined the first two buildings on the east, along Castle Street. Designed by John Aimers of Mason and Wales, this ten-storey building towered over the campus; it was occupied in 1973.

Special attention was paid to the appearance of the fourth building in the complex, the microbiology building, designed by architectural firm Miller, White and Dunn. ‘We are taking particular care with the external treatment of the façade and the over-all form of the building’, explained E.A. Dews, the head of university works and services. ‘We want it to look a particularly attractive building since it is to be the focal point for the approach to the university’. There was a plan at the time to make a road from this point of Cumberland Street to the clock tower, which would make the building the ‘front door’ of the campus. The project was brought forward to cater for an increase in medical student numbers; like biochemistry, microbiology had previously been squeezed into the medical school buildings. Construction started late in 1972 and was competed in 1974. In the same year work started on the final building in the science complex, Science III. The design for this large building was a joint-project of the Ministry of Works and Allingham, Harris and Partners; its foundations required ‘one of the largest single [concrete] pours to be laid on a Dunedin site’, noted the Evening Star newspaper. It opened in 1977 to house the physics department and science library, with mathematics moving in a little later.

All of this building was a great boon to local trades firms. Fletcher Construction Ltd, which had grown into a building powerhouse since its small beginnings in Dunedin early in the century, was main contractor for the first three science buildings. The next two contracts went to another large firm, Naylor Love Construction Ltd. Building seems to have gone reasonably smoothly, but there was one major exception. In 1971, as a crane was lifted from one floor to another of the partially-completed Science II building, a wire rope broke and the crane fell 15 feet, landing on two young workers. One of them, Kenneth Copland, was killed.

The new science buildings feature at top right of this late-1970s aerial view of the central Dunedin campus. See this earlier blog post for further discussion of this image. Photograph courtesy of the Hocken Collections, S12-192J.

Opinions varied on the design of these buildings. Where space was concerned, they were a great improvement for the sciences. Chemistry researchers, for instance, had previously squeezed into the attics and basements of what is now the geology building, in conditions considered unsafe even in those less safety-conscious days; now they had two large purpose-designed buildings. The buildings were also well equipped. New biochemistry professor George Petersen put many hours into his application for the grant to equip the new building, accounting for every last rubber bung together with the expensive new machines needed for the best teaching and research. The department eventually obtained a government grant for over six million dollars in today’s values to equip the biochemistry building; it was, recalls Petersen, as well equipped as any biochemistry department he had seen and helped attract good staff to Otago.

All that concrete architecture took some getting used to, though. Stan Hughes, who had been a technician in the physics department since the 1920s, found the design of the Science III building ‘rather severe’. He preferred the old building (the south end of what is now the registry), which was ‘marvellous – every floor was different’. It was ‘pleasant to walk around’ and also ‘so variable that it is adaptable’. Four decades later, opinions of the architectural style of the 1970s science precinct remain mixed. The 2010 campus master plan noted that the science buildings were ‘from an architectural period that was not renowned for the subtlety of its aesthetics’, with somebody once describing Science II as ‘being designed by Stalin’s personal architect’. Part of the current project to redevelop Science I involves a new exterior design ‘to play down the concrete box appearance in favour of softened architectural lines’. The need to re-clad concrete buildings of this era for technical reasons – 1960s and 70s construction techniques have not stood the test of time, with surfaces crumbling – has already provided an opportunity for a little restyling. Recladding of the microbiology building was completed in 2010, though not everybody approves of its new look – a friend now calls it the Joan Rivers building, in honour of its ‘garish’ recladding!

Whatever you think of its style, the science precinct has been highly significant in the university’s history. Generations of students have learned all about science in its laboratories and lecture rooms and much exciting research has emerged from these buildings. Do you have any memories to share of the science complex?

The newly-refurbished microbiology building in 2010. Photograph courtesy of University of Otago Marketing and Communications.

The centenary project – UniCol

Tags

1960s, 1970s, 1980s, 1990s, 2000s, centenary, UniCol

The front of University College in its early days – the cantilevered entry was quite a feature until additions built it out. The John Middleditch sculpture was a centenary gift to the university from the Association of Staff Wives. Image courtesy of Hocken Collections, c/nE3724/44a, S15-008a.

As this is the 100^th post on this blog (that went fast!) I decided to write something with a centenary theme. The university’s centenary gift to itself in 1969 was the largest university residential college in Australasia: University College, most often known as UniCol, built right on campus. ‘Our tradition dictates that we should celebrate our centenary by strengthening the communal and broader cultural aspects of university life’, stated vice-chancellor Arthur Beacham as he launched a fundraising campaign for the new college in 1964. Student numbers were increasing rapidly and accommodation for the many who came from beyond Dunedin was in short supply. The campaign kicked off with large donations from the Dunedin City Council and Otago Savings Bank and later a very substantial gift from old investment firm the National Mortgage and Agency Company made building possible; the government offered a 2 for 1 subsidy on money raised by the university.

One of the tower blocks, 2006. Image courtesy of University of Otago Marketing & Communications.

The original plan was for 300 residents, but to make the most of the subsidies on offer the capacity was increased to 324 beds (double the size of any existing Dunedin college). The extras were squeezed into the basement and spaces originally allocated to kitchenettes – residents quickly christened these smaller rooms the gimp rooms. Acclaimed local architect Ted McCoy came up with a striking modernist design featuring two ten-storey bedroom tower blocks with the main communal areas in a single-storey block at the front; it was to be the tallest building in Dunedin. The towers, explained McCoy, featured recessions and balconies ‘to avoid a big rectangular block, or a great square building’. The original pre-cast concrete fronts of the balconies were later replaced with perforated steel and higher glass fronts to improve safety and security.

A 1972 report by the college’s master and council chair noted the challenges and successes of its first four years. Despite doomsayers, it proved popular with students, achieving full occupancy and better than average academic pass rates. But building had been expensive and the college had large debts. The number of students brought its own challenge: ‘There is probably no more lonely or isolated person in any residential hall in Dunedin than the last member of University College who enters the dining room for the first time.’ The ‘architecture tends to control social patterns’, noted the report. ‘At meal times each lift delivers to the ground floor about ten or a dozen people largely from the same floor. These people join the lunch time queue in the dining room together and tend to sit at the same table.’ By default, the ‘floor’ became the main social unit of UniCol – most floors housed 18 people.

Though it was a mixed-gender college, right from the beginning UniCol developed quite a ‘blokey’ culture, probably as a way for the male residents to assert themselves amidst the rather chauvinistic culture of the university and all-male colleges like Selwyn, Knox, Arana and Aquinas. The separation of men and women within UniCol didn’t help. Women had the north tower and men the south tower and visiting was strictly regulated – as people formed their closest bonds with people sharing their floor this reduced integration. UniCol was founded at a time when mixed flatting was a hot topic and many students desired greater freedom to make their own lifestyle choices, so it’s no great surprise that a campaign for integration of the towers began early on; it was sparked off by a speech from visiting broadcaster Brian Edwards in 1971. Despite overwhelming support from the residents, the master and council resisted requests for mixing of the towers for many years, in part due to a concern that female residents needed protection from the robust behaviour of the men of UniCol. When integration was finally implemented in 1989, after a trial the previous year, it had a positive effect on college life: among other changes, there was less noise and less damage. A few floors remained single-sex for those who preferred that option.

Residents studying in the sunshine, 2009. Image courtesy of University of Otago Marketing & Communications.

Integration didn’t entirely end rowdy behaviour, of course, though fortunately the dangerous skyrocket wars between the college and flats on Clyde Street had gone; they were a feature of Guy Fawkes season in the mid-1970s and again in the mid-1980s. In the 1990s UniCol continued its well-established reputation as a ‘party’ college; reforms around the turn of the century increased pastoral care, raised behavioural expectations and modified the worst excesses. Renovations smartened up the facilities and in 2004 the dining hall was extended to cater for more students; the addition of two new four-storey wings took the roll up by over 100 people that year.

UniCol has provided a home for a considerable proportion of Otago students over the past few decades; it was an inspired choice for the university’s centenary project. It is a big, noisy, colourful place, as you would expect from the home of over 500 bright young people! Do you have any memories to share of Otago’s largest college?

A view across campus from one of the communal balconies, 2013. Image courtesy of University of Otago Marketing & Communications.

Interim and permanent buildings

Tags

1960s, 1970s, 1980s, chemistry, computer science, geology, library, mathematics, physics, technology

This year is the 50th anniversary of two significant university buildings. Ironically, the one originally called ‘interim’ is still here, while the other has gone!

The northern side of the new Library/Arts Building in 1965. Image courtesy of the Hocken Collections, S13-217g.

On 7 April 1965 the new Library/Arts Building was officially opened by the Minister of Education with much fanfare (complete with a student protest about inadequate government funding for university staff and facilities). The library, which had been taking up more and more space in the old clocktower building, now had a spacious new home, and there was also room for some of the arts and commerce departments. Those departments later moved out into other new buildings, allowing the library to expand. But as the university grew and grew, the library space became inadequate. Since the building’s design did not allow for any additions, some of the collections were moved into other spaces. Eventually the central library building was replaced by the current Information Services Building, completed in 2001.

Not far away from the library is the other 1965 building, now known as the Information Technology Services Building. It started out as the Interim Science Building. The word interim did not refer to the building, but to its usage – it was to provide temporary additional space for the physical sciences until their large new buildings were completed in the 1970s. There was a lot less fanfare over this building. I haven’t yet uncovered any evidence that it even had an official opening – its residents simply moved in and started using it in September 1965.

Though the numbers seem small by today’s standards, the university was growing rapidly in this period, making the old buildings woefully inadequate. The student roll jumped from 2000 in 1955 to 3700 in 1965; by 1975 it had reached 6300. As the Vice-Chancellor Arthur Beacham commented in 1964 when plans for the interim building were announced, it meant the university could avoid restricting entry into the physical sciences, whose labs were cramped into every attic and basement available.

The key feature of the Interim Science Building – a two-storey light steel-frame construction – was that it could be built quickly. The design, by Auckland architects Beatson, Rix-Trott, Carter & Co., had already been used for buildings at Auckland and Massey universities, though of course the foundations had to be customised for the site. The site was a particularly interesting one. With no space for a long building readily available around campus, it was built to span the Water of Leith. Once government funding was approved in October 1964, the University of Otago accepted a tender from Dunedin building firm Mitchell Brothers and, true to schedule, science departments moved in just under a year later.

The Information Technology Services Building, formerly the Interim Science Building, photographed by Ali Clarke, March 2015.

For several years the Interim Science Building provided extra laboratory space for the geology, physics and chemistry departments. In the 1970s, as the large new Science I, II and III buildings were completed, those departments moved out. The initial plan was for the building to then become available for expansion of the School of Home Science, but nobody had foreseen the ever-growing needs of another original occupant of the building, the university’s computing services.

The timing of the Interim Science Building construction was providential for the beginnings of computing at Otago. Space was reserved for installation of an IBM 360/30 early in 1966; this was run by the mathematics department. The large space under the building, where it crossed the Leith, proved convenient for the running of all the cables needed for the computer and its powerful air conditioning system. There were some disadvantages though. Brian Cox, the mathematician who became Otago’s first computer scientist, recalls that the puzzle of frequent false fire alarms was solved when they discovered that waterblasting under the building had accidentally stripped the insulation off all the wiring! Rumour has it that people waiting for the computer to work through a program sometimes passed the time by fishing out the window.

The Computing Centre’s first machine, from its 1971 ‘Notes for users’.

Early computers were very large in size, if not in data capabilities – Otago’s first IBM had 16KB of memory! A new computer, installed in 1973, filled half the ground floor of the Interim Sciences Building. Later computers were smaller, but there were many more of them, together with a growing staff to manage computer services all around campus, train users and carry out academic research and teaching in computer science. By the mid-1980s computing had taken over the entire building, which was renamed the Computing Services Building to reflect that. The building design had proved flexible – “hardly any of its internal walls are the originals”, commented the staff newsletter in 1986. Later, when Computing Services became Information Technology Services, the building was renamed the Information Technology Services Building.

Do you have any memories to share of the Interim Sciences Building? And do you know of any early photos of the building? The only ones I’ve located so far are in newspaper clippings. It’s hard to photograph these days because the trees have grown so much!

Another view of the ITS Building, photographed by Ali Clarke, March 2015.

Water of Leith – friend or foe?

Tags

1920s, dentistry, floods, grounds

Damage to landscaping is evident in this photograph of the Leith flowing past the clocktower building soon after the 1923 flood. Image courtesy of Dunedin City Council archives, 89/22.

As it flows gently past the iconic clocktower building, the Water of Leith plays no small part in creating an environment which has seen Otago named one of the most beautiful university campuses in the world (twice!). Recent major landscaping work around the Leith has made it even more attractive and accessible, but its underlying purpose has been to upgrade flood protection, because, like any river, the Leith is not always gently burbling and benign.

The university actually owes much of its site to a major flood of the Leith. The Dunedin Botanic Garden was originally located on the land bounded by Castle, Leith, St David and Albany streets (it can be seen on the right of the old photo in this earlier post). In February 1868 the whole region was swept by floods, and the raging Leith washed away several bridges and about an acre of cultivated land at the gardens, along with the flood defences then under construction. This was the major impetus for the botanic garden to move to their current site in 1869, allowing the university to take over the land in the 1870s.

There have been several major floods of the Leith since the 1870s. The largest recorded by the local authorities was in 1929, but it was a 1923 flood which caused the greatest damage to the university. Alison Breese of the Dunedin City Council archives has recently digitised these wonderful lantern slides, revealing the damage after the 1923 flood.

Late on Saturday 21 April 1923 heavy rain began and it continued until Monday morning, leading to major flooding in all low-lying parts of Dunedin and the Taieri. Many homes were inundated and the hallowed turf of Carisbrook lay 3 feet under water. The Leith became “a seething, foam-wrapt mass of water”, reported the Otago Daily Times. Between Leith Street and Forth Street “the river was a striking sight, the groynes churing the waters into what was a veritable seething cauldron.”

A curious crowd gathered on the Union Street bridge, undermined by the 1923 flood. In the background is the Home Science building (now the Applied Science building). Image courtesy of Dunedin City Council archives, 334/34.

The seething waters caused serious damage to the Union Street bridge, undermining its foundations, scouring out parts of the road and leaving a telegraph pole beside it suspended from its wires. But it was the nearby Dental School building – now the Staff Club – which came off worst. A one-storey addition of galvanised iron which nestled into the back corner of the building was completely washed away by the flood. Parts of the building were found in the harbour as far away as Ravensbourne. Contents of the building, which housed the mechanical room, students’ common room and dark room, were fished out of the Leith and also the harbour: somebody found a dental case with a full set of instruments on the Otago Peninsula side of the harbour. The flood also undercut some of the remaining building, leaving a recently-constructed addition at the back hanging about 2.5 metres over the Leith. The flood made it obvious that the site was not suitable for the expanding Dental School, and in 1926 it moved to its new building (now the Marples Building).

The back of the Dental School after the 1923 flood. An addition which sat immediately behind the original stone building was completely washed away. Image courtesy of Dunedin City Council archives, 334/9.

The university buildings escaped major damage from the more severe flood of 1929, but again there was a big impact on the grounds. A memorial walk, planted beside the Leith in 1927, disappeared as the river washed away its banks for a distance of about 150 metres. Nearby, in places that would later become part of the university campus, the wooden bridges at Leith and Clyde streets were washed away, and the Dundas Street bridge was also severely damaged.

The 1929 flood prompted improvements to Leith flood defences, and these have been gradually upgraded over the decades since. Floods have, of course, continued to come and go, but none have caused as much drama as in 1923. Some students, in their inimitable way, have indulged in adventure sports during floods, taking some pretty reckless kayak trips. In 2010, when the Leith ran especially high, a few dare-devils even tried surfing it.

Debris lies beside the Leith after the 1923 flood. The road at the top left of the photo is Leith Street (then a through road). The building of engineers J & AP Scott is now home to the university’s property services. Image courtesy of Dunedin City Council archives, 89/20.

Castle Flats and Union Court

Tags

1930s, 1970s, 1980s, flatting, human nutrition, international students, physical education, Toroa

Union Court from Union Place, photographed by Ali Clarke, August 2014.

From refined apartments to student flats to university offices, the building now known as Union Court has seen many changes. There are few university buildings dating from the 1930s – others are the former Queen Mary Maternity Hospital in Cumberland Street (now home to the School of Surveying and Department of Marine Science) and one wing of Cumberland College (formerly the Dunedin Hospital Nurses Home) – so the art deco style of the period is rare around campus. This two-storey brick building presents a dramatic contrast to the adjacent large wooden villas and the multi-storey concrete 1970s Science I Building opposite.

The building dates from 1930 and was a project of some innovative property developers, Castle Buildings Ltd. The company included builders Frank Lawrence and George Lawrence, who carried out the construction, and various Dunedin businessmen, including a quarry owner, a tannery manager, an accountant and two butchers. They set up with a capital of £8000, apparently with the sole purpose of financing this project. The Evening Star commended the project because it had, among other things, “helped considerably to keep a large staff of men in constant work”: this was, of course, a time of economic depression. The architect, William Henry Dunning, had designed various well-regarded Dunedin buildings; the Star suggested that his involvement was “sufficient in itself to guarantee the Dunedin public something of no mean order”. (There is an interesting piece about another of his designs, Barton’s Buildings, on the Built in Dunedin blog).

The building was originally named Castle Flats and included 14 self-contained flats, mostly with 2 bedrooms, built around a courtyard. Two separate blocks were connected by “well-fitted washhouses and archways.” Purpose-built flats were rare in Dunedin at the time, but the Star believed that the “demand for residential flats planned on modern lines is increasing daily in view of the great difficulty in obtaining a dwelling at a moderate price within the city.” These were no cheap or poky apartments, being “artistically designed, and beautifully finished,” with rooms spacious and well lit and tiled fireplaces in living rooms. The target market was “Varsity graduates and professional men whose near abode to the University class rooms is so necessary.”

The front entrance of Union Court, looking through to the courtyard. Photographed by Ali Clarke, August 2014.

At least one early resident worked at the university: Dr Morris Watt, who lived in Flat 6 for a few years, lectured in bacteriology at the medical school. But most of the flats were occupied by people with no obvious link to the university: 1932 residents included a police sergeant, a warehouseman, a clerk, an insurance manager, a couple of railway employees, and various single and widowed women (street directories of the day assigned them no occupation). In 1950 Flat 6 was the home of Sister Mary Ewart, a former deaconess of Knox Church. Other residents at that time included musician Rodney Pankhurst, teacher Rae Familton, Victor Castleton, who was manager of the Octagon Theatre, civil servant Augustine McAlevey, driver Alex Borrell, and various people without occupations listed. Elizabeth Noble lived in Flat 12 for at least 20 years.

By the 1970s, the Castle Flats building was becoming rather run-down. In 1977 it was purchased by the Otago University Development Society, founded in 1948 for “the rendering of assistance and support to the University of Otago”. Until it wound up in 2002, the society raised money for various university projects. It also invested in buildings – including student accommodation – which would help the university. As an extensive renovation programme to Castle Flats began, society president Maurice Joel suggested that they would “provide pleasant and comfortable accommodation, primarily for staff, and are ideally situated at the centre of the complex.” But by 1978 the society was finding that there was great demand for all its properties from students; the 1979 report commented that Castle Flats were “particularly valuable as accommodation for married post-graduate students from overseas.”

Soon most of the flats were occupied by international students. Some lived there with their families, while others shared with fellow students. OUSA president Jon Doig noted in 1988 that this was a “supportive environment” for students from overseas, who were “often under great financial hardship” and had “trouble finding other flats of suitable standard and price.” A list of 1988 tenants is dominated by Indian, Arabic and Chinese names; most of the residents were undergrads at the university or polytech. Doig was acting as an advocate for those students, who were about to lose this accommodation option. By the late 1980s the rapidly-growing university was desperate for space. In early 1988 the university asked the development society for use of one of the flats for “a university related business venture,” but by the end of the year wanted the entire building for the mushrooming Commerce Division, whose new building was not completed until 1992.

Since the Otago University Development Society’s sole object was to assist the university, it was not about to turn down such a request. Accordingly, late in 1988 the university purchased the building for around $365,000, a price determined by an official valuation. It was converted into offices, and later the university added an extension at the back (facing the University Union), designed to blend seamlessly in style with the original building. These days the building, now known as Union Court, is occupied by the Department of Human Nutrition, the School of Physical Education, Sport and Exercise Sciences, and the administrative offices of the Division of Sciences. Meanwhile, there were plenty of international students looking for accommodation. In 1996 the university opened a new place for them in upgraded blocks of flats in Queen Street. Toroa International House, as it was known, provided self-catering flats in a supportive environment complete with communal areas and computer facilities (it is now Toroa College).

Do you have any stories to share of Castle Flats/Union Court? I’d especially love to hear from anybody who lived there when it was an international student community. I’m also on the lookout for earlier photographs of the building!

Looking from the west towards Union Court. Photographed by Ali Clarke, August 2014.

Our oldest building – some runners up

Tags

1870s, 1880s, Arana, St Margaret's

This J.W. Allen photograph looking down on the corner of Dundas and Leith streets was probably taken in the mid-1870s, before the university moved to its current site. The Tilbury family home is at front left, and part of the Scotia Hotel is visible at front right. At the centre, in the middle distance, is the cottage and market garden of James Gebbie. Image courtesy of the Hocken Collections, Album 68, S14-433.

The search for the university’s oldest building turned up several interesting contenders. Mellor House – featured in last week’s blog post – may have won the prize, but it’s a shame not to share some of the tales of other buildings we looked into!

I wouldn’t have got far in my search without the expertise of architectural history experts David Murray and Michael Findlay, who can look at a building and distinguish that some feature, such as the roof angle or style of weatherboard, dates from a particular decade, or that a house bears the distinctive marks of a particular architect. Michael and I wandered around campus looking for buildings which might be particularly old. I then researched their history from a variety of sources. Old rates records, kindly checked by DCC archivist Chris Scott, were particularly helpful in narrowing down dates.

As the old photograph above reveals, there were various houses scattered along Leith Street and the hill below Clyde Street in the 1870s. This area is still home to a collection of old houses which have been incorporated into Arana College. The big question is, how old are they, and did any of the buildings in this photo survive into the 21st century? Of course, one complication is that few houses remain unaltered for over a century! Many homes started out as small cottages and were gradually added to over the decades; a new roof or windows or cladding can disguise their original form.

Joined houses at 107-109 Dundas Street, now part of Arana. Photographed by Ali Clarke, October 2014.

A good example is the two attached houses at 107-109 Dundas Street. The large double bay windows at the front suggest a late nineteenth-century construction date, but closer inspection shows that these windows have been added to an earlier flat-fronted house. In fact, a careful look from above at the chimneys and roof lines (thanks Michael!) reveals that this is the building which appears on that same corner location in J.W. Allen’s 1870s photo. Rates records are patchy for that period, but judging by the date of the photo and the style of the original building we date its construction to the early to mid-1870s.

By 1877 – possibly earlier – this building was owned by Richard Tilbury. Just as the Cook family owned their home for eight decades, the Tilbury family were long-term owners of the joined Dundas Street houses, though the families had contrasting class backgrounds. Richard Tilbury was a Londoner, the son of a waiter. By 1870 he and his younger brother George were living in Dunedin, where both young men married. They worked together as expressmen, meaning they delivered goods to order by horse and carriage. Richard retired from the Tilbury Bros partnership in 1907, leaving his brother and nephews to run the business.

Richard Tilbury was the father of ten children, and saw his share of tragedy. His first wife, Eleanor Farnell, died in 1881, aged 32, around the time she gave birth to their seventh child. The baby followed her to the grave two months later. Two of their older children had also died as infants, and another at three years. In 1882 Richard married Irish woman Kate Finerty, who gave birth to three more children. Their son Harry drowned in the Leith in 1892. Newspaper reports of the accident reveal that the 9-year-old fell into the river just near the family home; there were suspicions that he had a seizure, which he had become prone to recently.

Fortunately not all of the Tilbury children died young; several of the five who survived childhood lived into old age. Their father, Richard Tilbury, died in 1934 aged 89 years, and his wife Kate died 6 years later. Richard left various bequests to his children. One of the pair of Dundas St houses went to his youngest daughter, Henrietta, and the other to his youngest son, William. When Henrietta Tilbury died in 1949, she left her house to be used by her sister Sophia Tilbury during her lifetime; it was then to pass to her niece Thora Smith (William’s daughter). Sophia, the oldest of the Tilburys, lived on at Dundas St until 1964, when she died at the grand old age of 90; William, the youngest, ended up in Waimate, where he died in 1968 at 80 years.

Two generations of the Tilbury family thus owned the Dundas St building for a remarkable ninety or so years. The University of Otago later bought the property and added it to the growing complex of houses which formed Arana. Arana may have been based around the grand Clyde St home of Sir James Allen, but it also came to own a mish-mash of cottages of various ages and styles. However, the Tilbury home remains the only surviving 1870s house identifiable on that side of Leith St in J.W. Allen’s photograph.

This Arana cottage was moved from further up the hill, on St David Street, to Leith Street. It dates from around 1885. Photographed by Ali Clarke, October 2014.

A couple of other houses in the vicinity did rouse our curiosity. The distinctive cottage just around the corner from the old Tilbury home, now painted orange, has the somewhat timeless design of any very simple house! It used to sit at 122 St David Street, and was moved to its current location to make way for new developments at Arana. Rates records show it was built around 1885, a few years after the university registry building.

Was this house at 368 Leith St once Gebbie’s cottage? It is in the right location, and the part at the back appears to be older than the rest of the property. Photographed by Ali Clarke, October 2014.

 

Another house I’m suspicious about is on the other side of Leith St – could this, perhaps, be built around the original cottage of James Gebbie, the nurseryman? Since the house is still privately owned, I haven’t researched it any further. There are, of course, many old buildings in the vicinity of the campus which don’t belong to the university, including some rented to students.

At the top of the hill, in Clyde Street, are some much grander homes. The Allen house, named Arana (a Maori transliteration of Allen), dates from the 1880s, as do several of the others. We wondered about the house at number 96, now known as Thorpe House and part of St Margaret’s College. Council records reveal that this is a contemporary of the university’s geology building – it was constructed in 1878 for warehouseman Joseph Ridley. The house then passed through various hands before it was purchased by solicitor Jefferson Stephens around 1913. I wonder if he socialised with the Cooks, around the corner in Union Street? The house remained in the Stephens family, latterly to Jefferson’s son Oswald Stephens, a teacher, until St Margaret’s took possession in 1980.

Do you have any stories to share of the old houses which have been absorbed into the university and its residential colleges?