A group of Gordonton farmers were working on the road on the marshy ground by Grahams Road at the foot of Tommy Martin's Hill. Fred Williamson and his brother Sam had brought their horse and dray, and so had Edgar McMullan. When Denby Sainsbury arrived in his dray driving his smart new mare, everyone stopped work to admire her. Denby always had good horses and this one really was a beauty. Jim Sharp, who had never liked horses at all said, "There won't be need of horses soon. Everyone will be using trucks."
As Sam took his shovel out of the cart he said, "It's because of all these cars and trucks that the road is so cut up."
"The Waikato County Council has ordered all heavy traffic to cease from May to September. Perhaps that will help." said Denby.
"Mr. J. Kelly who's got the sawmill on Woodlands has offered to pay cnrtage of one hundred and eighty yards of metal from Taupiri Quarry to repair the road between Rumney's and us," observed Jim Sharp. "But it won't do the road much good if they go so fast. His truck often goes pt1st our place at at least twenty five miles an hour. That's far too quick."
"The council decided that he wasn't to carry more than six hundred feet timber or logs even on the big lorry, especially during the winter months. He's not to use the Rototuna road at all," remarked Fred.
"Roads have always been a problem in the Waikato. There is never enough money to do all that wants doing. When we came to Gordonton, the main route was via Taupiri." Commented Jim Sharp.
"It wasn't much better when we came in 1913." said Fred. "The swampy parts were bad enough, but this hill and Thomas' Hill (called Holloway's then) were worse. I remember in 1915, Esther and I went to the Winter Show in the dray. It rained all day, and when we were coming up Thomas' Hill, how in the dray. It rained all day, and when we were coming up Thomas' Hill, Dago took three steps forward and slipped back five! It was dark o11d raining hard and hurricane lanterns don't really show the way very well. Esther was frightened and wanted to get out, but the mud would have been up to her waist. I told her Dago would see us home, and he did." Dago was big... over seventeen hands, with legs like trees and a heart as gentle as a baby's. He wriggled his ears and looked at his master when he heard his name mentioned.
"It was on Thomas' Hill that Mrs Riddell was nearly killed," said Sam. "They got the Cadillac in 1917. She would not drive the car, and wanted to go into town for some meeting or other. As it was shearing time, the boys were busy, so she said she would drive herself in the buggy."
"The Riddells had a particularly smart buggy and pair," observed Jim Sharp.
"Yes. This day they were pretty fresh, and were probably going down the hill a bit fast. Anyway, a ti-tree fascine caught in the back wheel and tipped the whole lot over the side of the road. One of the wheels went over Mrs. Riddell's back."
"She hasn't been able to sit down properly since, but it is lucky that she wasn't killed," said Jim.
"The first fatal motor car accident was on Tommy Martin's Hill though." said Victor Ballard. "Do you remember? Mr. Madill was bringing our new minister, Rev. Shaw, out to the afternoon service. I suppose he put on the brakes too quickly and the car skidded in the red clay and landed upside down in the paddock. We were singing hymns when Tommy Martin came into the church and said our minister was dead. Afterwards the Road Board cut the top off this part of the hill and it isn't nearly as steep now."
"One of the funniest things I saw, was on this hill." said Victor, a little later. "Do you remember old Tom Evan and his team of five Clysdales? He used to come out from town in the afternoon and spend the night in the whare at the corner of Sainsbury's Road. In the morning he would collect the cream from the Creamery at Gordonton, and go right round the district picking up the rest at the various roadside stands, and take it back to the factory at Frankton. Well, one wet Spring afternoon when I was coming along this road, I heard an awful clatter. Tom Ewen, with a full waggon, was trying to get up the hill. The track was slippery and lead horse, Jack, fell down. The right wheeler wouldn't pull her weight, and the waggon began to slither into the gutter. First two cans the top began to shift. Ewan made a grab at them, but as the whole waggon tilted he had to worry about the horses and the cans went everywhere. As they crashed onto the ground the lids came off and the cream splashed into the mud. What with the crashing of the cans and Tom's yelling, the horses took fright and pulled as they had never pulled before. They got to the top in record time, but you've never seen such a mess. I helped pick up the cans, and I don't know which was the mudiest; the cans, the waggon, or Tom and me. I had to go home and change anyway."
Blackberries grew across the drains. Rabbits made burrows till the sides caved in.
As the men talked they worked. They were shovelling sand from Sainsbury's pit into the drays, and then driving the loaded drays round the corner to where the mud was deepest.
Fred Williamson wiped his forehead. "This is hard work, " he said. "Do you remember the old roadmen, Edwin Johnson and that flea-bitten, grey horse of his? He told me once that he started as surfac -man for the old Kirikiriroa Road Board in 1887. He got 6 shillings a day for the rust year, but they reduced it to 5 shillings in 1888. He must have worked on these roads for over thirty years, but his wages did go up before he retired. In these boggy places, his instructions were to dig the drains on each side of the road five feet wide at the top, two feet six inches at the bottom, and four feet deep, and to spread the spoil on the roadway. To stop the peat just falling back into the drain, they often pushed willow stakes into the side of the drain and then rammed more sticks behind them. I wonder if Edwin planted those willow trees."
"May be." said Edgar, splashing shovelfuls of sand into the mud. "But Johnson was the surface man really. His job was to fill in holes as we doing. The farmers round usually tendered for new road works, and for gravelling and claying stretches of road way. They got paid, too, there doesn't seem to be any money now. The men who took up military allotments say it was almost the only way of getting any ready money. But now, if we didn't do this for nothing, we wouldn't be able to get to town."
Suddenly Jim Sharp said, "You know, if we put the sand in the holes it will only come out again. Let us fill sacks with the sand and put the sand into the holes."
The others thought that was a good idea.
They were filling the sacks when Jim said, "When are you going to get car, Fred?"
"I'll have one this year, I think," answered Fred. "The school committee meetings are at night, and Church Managers meetings are often the evenings too. I hate to keep my pony waiting tied to a fence on a cold night, especially if it has been raining. If the Drainage Board meeting are shifted to evening meetings too, I'll have to think about getting a car."
"You might be safer with a horse these foggy days, though." thought Denby. "A fortnight ago I was going to the sale at Frankton. As you probably remember there was an exceptionally heavy fog that morning, and I couldn't see a thing, so I trusted old Darkie. I'd been riding for ages and thought I should be getting close to the Five Cross Roads, when Darkie suudenly stopped at a gate. It took me a moment to realise it was our own front gate! I don't know when Darkie turned round, but he must have thought it was a good day not to be on the road. A car would have run into the ditch and left you there."
The others laughed. They all had had experiences in the fog. "Waikato fog" was known all over New Zealand.
"Well,we're getting considerable more for our butterfat this year, and with Mr. Coates as Prime Minister, all should be well." said one of the men.
Edgar snorted. "He's promised to give a Motherhood allowance for each child after the second for all those families that are receiving the basic wage. Where's the money to come from except out of farmer's pockets. And with the School Dental Clinic Scheme... "
"Hey,'' said Fred. "I think the school dental clinic is a marvelous idea. Gordonton School was one of the first in the area to join. It costs us two Pounds, but if they can get any girls to train as nurses I think it will be well worthwhile."
"Coates has promised to build new houses and rent them out cheaply. I don't think they have any right to use people's money for houses." said Jack.
"Anyway," added Denby, with this new electricity you'll be able to milk twice as many cows."
"Two of the school committee members cut the pole and erected it to connect the school, and we put it up so they had the light in March." (1924) said Fred to Edgar. "If you work in with us to cut and erect the ten poles we need, the Power Board will surely include us soon, though at first they wouldn't even consider any side line unless there were at least four houses."
"I've got to guarantee to use thirty pounds worth of electricity every year," complained Edgar. "I think the most worthwhile installation will be the pump for the water. An electric motor in the shed should be an advantage too. At least it would be easier to start on cold mornings."
The other men laughed. They all knew how difficult their engines were to start on a frosty morning.
"The greatest advantage is the light. It's just grand to flick on a switch when you come in the dark, and not have to fumble round for a candle. And the matches are bound to be somewhere else." said Jim. He lived on the main road, and had been connected up in 1922." We were having tea last night, and a moth came in. We all got up to protect the mantle of the 1amp and then laughed when we realized that a moth can't hurt an electric light. Oh, it's a grand invention alright."
Fred said, "Probably the fridge will save most, as we all kill our own mutton, but I think the washing machine will be most valuable. My wife's exhausted every Monday night, though we have got one of those washing machines you work by hand."
One of the other men said, "I wonder why the women insist on boiling all the clothes. They can't do that with an electric washing machine. I guess someone will just have to invent materials that will come clean without boiling them."
The others agreed. Then Fred said, "You know, in January 1919 when there seemed a chance we'd get the telephone in Gordonton, four of us spent four days riding aroung getting everyone's signature and the last man signed up by February the twentieth. We had our phones fixed by August the twenty fourth. Now when we want a working-bee or anything, we just ring up."
"Or when the women want to talk," said Edgar cynically, laughed and Denby said to Jim, "How many on your line?"
"There's eight on ours,"said Jim. "It's a good line as we haven't got nnyone who monopolises the phone."
Denby groaned. "We've seven on our line, But one of the women spends nll her time on it. If we want to use the phone on business I often have to ask her three or four times if the line is engaged before she will hang up. Then she 'forgets' to ring off, It's most annoying."
Fred said, "Ours is a good line too. Sometimes the neighbours kids listen though. Esther was talking to one of her friends the other day, when she heard a clock chime. 'Your clock sounds like Joan's." she said, nnd they both chuckled as they heard the neighbour's receiver slam up."
Eight bags were now full of sand, so they hoisted them into the dray, and went over the hill to the bad place. They dumped the bags into the holes as they heard the chug, chug, of an approaching truck. The "roadmen" went to stand by their horses' heads, waving as Jack O'Hearn in his model T one-ton truck went slowly and noisily past. But instead of gathering speed, it began to go slower and slower till it ground to a halt. Jack got out to look.
"Come and see what you've done," he yelled to the workmen. One of their bags of sand had caught on the crank handle, and the truck was unable to pull it along.
References:
Rushes ‘an Raupo, To cows an’ Clover by Edith Williamson