I'm still on the discovery jaunt. Have been really lucky to have access to a set of WWII registers of people serving. I want to include a small section in my book, that'll have a list of the Jockeys and Apprentice Jockeys in NZ who went to serve. It's proving harder than I thought it would be. WWI wasn't too bad, there is a database that I was able to get most of the info from. However WWII is still within the time frame that some of the people might be alive so I had to be creative and while at the local library (Whangaparaoa Library) I noticed a bin tucked under one of the genealogy computers (we have an awesome area that is run by the Hibiscus Coast Branch of the NZSOG) I had a look in the bin, and found a bunch of registers. I have looked thru 9 of the registers, and today while I was looking for more riders, I took the time out to read the writing at the front of the registers. It was to do with troop movements and when they left NZ, where they were going, and how many left. I read the concern they had about Japanese submarines. Hard to believe Japan is now one of our trading partners. At first what I was reading was just words, but then it began to sink in that these men were part of someones family, and many of the soldiers didn't come back. How awful that must feel to lose someone that way.
The Auckland City Library has a resource centre for genealogists, on-line they have some images of early Auckland, and in their collection, I found the image of one of the jockeys I've been researching, it had a picture of him, and he had served in the Boer War. Sheesh that was like before 1900. It said that he went across with the Calvery, as he was trained as a Blacksmith. The riders name was Thomas Taylor he was born in 1865 and was killed on the Ellerslie Racecourse. At 42 years he was one of the oldest men killed in racing. (actually there are 3 of them all aged 42 years old)
You know what I worry about the most .... that I might miss a name and leave a person who deserves recognition out of the list. Dumb but it's always in the back of my mind.
Wednesday, 16 November 2011
Monday, 17 October 2011
Jockeys from WWI
Spent the afternoon typing out a list of Jockeys from NZ who went to World War I. I kept thinking about the ANZAC day ceremonies we hold throughout NZ, and this is probably the first time I thought about the jockeys who went to war. Had a long chat to my dad about it, and he told me that most of the jockeys were of such a small body frame size that they often got the job of being the ones to wriggle forward and to cut the barb wire so the rest of their battalion could pass through without delay. There was a lot of the jockeys who were put on the reserves lists, either due to health or family commitments. But what I know about the jockeys who were around at that time, they were fearless. Maybe they had a different kind of mind set because a lot of them acted like they couldn't control the future, so living for the day was the way to get through life.
I saw a couple of names of guys who died during their racing careers after the war, on the list I was typing. It was sad - compared to today, they had a tough life, and it was a struggle. But through it all, they found things to enjoy and be happy about. I could take a lesson from them. Gotta remember to laugh more!!
I saw a couple of names of guys who died during their racing careers after the war, on the list I was typing. It was sad - compared to today, they had a tough life, and it was a struggle. But through it all, they found things to enjoy and be happy about. I could take a lesson from them. Gotta remember to laugh more!!
Sunday, 9 October 2011
John Mahoney #3
John Mahoney - where do I start with this fella. I thought this should be a piece of cake, but did I come unstuck. Since I began my book project, I've kept my eyes open for anyone in the 1860's called John Mahoney or related to a John Mahoney. It might be wrong for me to suggest there was a few bag eggs with this name but we got a lot of idiots called John Mahoney settling in NZ in the 1860's. The article in the paper about his death said only that his parents came from Auckland. (it would've been so helpful to at least mention their names?)But Auckland is where I tried to start my search. Don't ask my why, but I wish I could reach through time and give this kid a hug. He had a bit of a crappy life, his father ended up in court more often than not. Sometimes the escapades were funny, other times I could have cheerfully slapped the fool. John Mahoney was named after his father, but I think most of his life he rode under the nickname of Jack, till he moved to Nelson as an apprentice and his boss Mr Redwood Jr would have required him to use his proper name. (Mr R was a bit particular about those kinda things)
John Mahoney was attending a pretty important racing event in Nelson, South Island, NZ. His Royal Highness The Duke of Edinburgh was making a visit to the region. 20/21st April 1869. There was a full day of racing which the Duke enjoyed, on the second day (a half day of attendence) John was going to ride a horse called 'Bones' for his boss, but the instructions were to rest the horse if he was tired, so that is what happened and John was available to ride another horse called 'Subaltern' for Mr McRae. It was the second race of the day, and Subaltern baulked at a jump. It was said that John tried to rush the jump, but the horse somersaulted over the fence and injured his young rider. He was carried to the Turf Hotel across the road from the race track and there his friend Edward Cutts another rider stayed with him till he died just before 9 pm that night. Medical evidence was given by Dr Squires who was also the coroner in Nelson. As John had a deep gash on his head and an obvious fracture, it was decided no autopsy was need as the cause of death was clear.
I'm still digging, but I believe John M rode before HRH the Duke of Edinburgh the day before, and that the horse he rode came second. If that is so, it's quite possible that the little apprentice would have met HRH. Definitely a big deal back then. I understand that Prince Albert was pretty cool.
At the time Mr Redwood Jr made it clear he did not give his permission for JM to ride Mr McRaes horse. I've since learnt that the apprentices took every instruction from their boss and only his boss should have ok'd the alternative ride. Maybe if there had been some different input on that day, the little fella from Auckland who started riding at 12 years of age for a living, would have been around a lot longer. From the races he won in Auckland before going south to Nelson, it's clear he had a lot of talent. Even if he once rode a donkey in a race, (totally true) and was unlucky enough to run over a spectator during one of his races (dumb kid ran out onto the track at the end of the race and JM had no where to go to avoid him) Watch Utube and you'll still see idiots walking out onto race tracks totally oblivious to the thoroughbreds baring down on them.
Back to JM, I looked everywhere to find where his final resting place was, and eventually I found it under the spelling of John Mahney. (the phonetic spelling for Mahoney) He's buried in one of the sweetest cemeteries in Nelson. It's tucked into a small glade on the right hand side of the road leading into the city of Nelson. No matter what time of day, it has a very historic feel to it due to the huge trees planted many years ago. (and I have to say, it's spooky looking at night because of all the ornate headstones and the way the wind blows through the trees) But on my next visit back to Nelson, I'll definitely stop by and find JM
I lived in Nelson for many years, and while I have been to the race track at Nelson, and am familiar with the old pub on the corner in Richmond, I'll have to investigate further to see if it is the same hotel that is mentioned in the article about JM's last ride. It seems in olden days they would take the injured to the local hotel for treatment, both in NZ and in a number of other countries around the world.
(Have just realised that Mr McRae who's horse John was riding was the uncle of rider #24 Richard Nelson McRae who died in 1899 at Sandon. Nelson McRae was injured in front of his father, he died a few minutes later. That's one story that ripped me up when I started digging. But you'll need to wait for that one it's still on the way to being added to my blog)
John Mahoney was attending a pretty important racing event in Nelson, South Island, NZ. His Royal Highness The Duke of Edinburgh was making a visit to the region. 20/21st April 1869. There was a full day of racing which the Duke enjoyed, on the second day (a half day of attendence) John was going to ride a horse called 'Bones' for his boss, but the instructions were to rest the horse if he was tired, so that is what happened and John was available to ride another horse called 'Subaltern' for Mr McRae. It was the second race of the day, and Subaltern baulked at a jump. It was said that John tried to rush the jump, but the horse somersaulted over the fence and injured his young rider. He was carried to the Turf Hotel across the road from the race track and there his friend Edward Cutts another rider stayed with him till he died just before 9 pm that night. Medical evidence was given by Dr Squires who was also the coroner in Nelson. As John had a deep gash on his head and an obvious fracture, it was decided no autopsy was need as the cause of death was clear.
I'm still digging, but I believe John M rode before HRH the Duke of Edinburgh the day before, and that the horse he rode came second. If that is so, it's quite possible that the little apprentice would have met HRH. Definitely a big deal back then. I understand that Prince Albert was pretty cool.
At the time Mr Redwood Jr made it clear he did not give his permission for JM to ride Mr McRaes horse. I've since learnt that the apprentices took every instruction from their boss and only his boss should have ok'd the alternative ride. Maybe if there had been some different input on that day, the little fella from Auckland who started riding at 12 years of age for a living, would have been around a lot longer. From the races he won in Auckland before going south to Nelson, it's clear he had a lot of talent. Even if he once rode a donkey in a race, (totally true) and was unlucky enough to run over a spectator during one of his races (dumb kid ran out onto the track at the end of the race and JM had no where to go to avoid him) Watch Utube and you'll still see idiots walking out onto race tracks totally oblivious to the thoroughbreds baring down on them.
Back to JM, I looked everywhere to find where his final resting place was, and eventually I found it under the spelling of John Mahney. (the phonetic spelling for Mahoney) He's buried in one of the sweetest cemeteries in Nelson. It's tucked into a small glade on the right hand side of the road leading into the city of Nelson. No matter what time of day, it has a very historic feel to it due to the huge trees planted many years ago. (and I have to say, it's spooky looking at night because of all the ornate headstones and the way the wind blows through the trees) But on my next visit back to Nelson, I'll definitely stop by and find JM
I lived in Nelson for many years, and while I have been to the race track at Nelson, and am familiar with the old pub on the corner in Richmond, I'll have to investigate further to see if it is the same hotel that is mentioned in the article about JM's last ride. It seems in olden days they would take the injured to the local hotel for treatment, both in NZ and in a number of other countries around the world.
(Have just realised that Mr McRae who's horse John was riding was the uncle of rider #24 Richard Nelson McRae who died in 1899 at Sandon. Nelson McRae was injured in front of his father, he died a few minutes later. That's one story that ripped me up when I started digging. But you'll need to wait for that one it's still on the way to being added to my blog)
Wednesday, 5 October 2011
Why I began this
It all started on a foggy morning in the middle of a Waikato winter in 1975. Trevor Rowlands riding Grandeoso disappeared into a bank of fog while exercising his horse. It was the last time he was seen alive. He didn't return to the stables at Kaipaki, his horse had suffered a heart attack and both the horse and Trevor were found later that morning in a ditch beside the road when the fog eventually lifted. That one accident changed how I felt about horse racing for a long long time. I hated the fog, and it took 35 years before I put all the peices together and began to remember the person, and not the death. Trevor was 17 years old, and I was almost 16 when the accident happened, and talking to his friends in the last year or so, they have relished the chance to talk about him again.
I set out to research my Family History, but after having lousey luck with my own family , I typed Trevors name into the Burial Locator, and up his info popped. I went to the cemetery and at the office I got the directions and then drove to the area they said he was buried in. (I am not a cemetery person, do not hang out in them as a habit, and don't like walking in them cos I feel like I'm stepping on someone when I pass by) Having said that, I did find his headstone, I actually walked past it, but out of the corner of my eye I saw the letters TREV - the rest of the name was hidden by lichen. I turned back and brushed off some of the growth and discovered his whole name in faded white paint on the polished granite headstone. I thought of all the things I wanted to say, but just sat there crying as I looked at his unkept headstone. It was like he'd been forgotten and that wasn't right. I returned the next day with bucket and brushes and cleaned it up so that it looked spick and span ... (it's amazing how fast you can scrub in a cemetery when you have too) and I go back each month and leave new flowers. But Trevor isn't there, it's just his bones, Trevor's spirit is around a lot and he knows he's not forgotten.
I rang the NZ Thoroughbred Association and they sent me a list of 82 names of jockeys killed during their careers in NZ. Sadly Trevors name wasn't on the list as he died in an off-track accident. So I started hunting down the lost and forgotten jockeys. My blogs are going to be about what I've done, who I've found and how I feel about this journey. One day it would be great to put them in a book and use the proceeds to fund a museum dedicated to NZ racing. But till then ... I'm going to be a Jockey PI and leave no stone unturned in my search for their stories.
I know this all started out from something sad, but what I've learned so far is that these men and women lived, and if they could tell us anything, it would be to grab each moment in our day and go for it ...... the number of jockeys/riders killed during their careers now stands at about 140. As I search some I've dropped off the list as they'd retired or had stopped before they passed on. Still it's sobering to think that 140 men and women have died so far.
I set out to research my Family History, but after having lousey luck with my own family , I typed Trevors name into the Burial Locator, and up his info popped. I went to the cemetery and at the office I got the directions and then drove to the area they said he was buried in. (I am not a cemetery person, do not hang out in them as a habit, and don't like walking in them cos I feel like I'm stepping on someone when I pass by) Having said that, I did find his headstone, I actually walked past it, but out of the corner of my eye I saw the letters TREV - the rest of the name was hidden by lichen. I turned back and brushed off some of the growth and discovered his whole name in faded white paint on the polished granite headstone. I thought of all the things I wanted to say, but just sat there crying as I looked at his unkept headstone. It was like he'd been forgotten and that wasn't right. I returned the next day with bucket and brushes and cleaned it up so that it looked spick and span ... (it's amazing how fast you can scrub in a cemetery when you have too) and I go back each month and leave new flowers. But Trevor isn't there, it's just his bones, Trevor's spirit is around a lot and he knows he's not forgotten.
I rang the NZ Thoroughbred Association and they sent me a list of 82 names of jockeys killed during their careers in NZ. Sadly Trevors name wasn't on the list as he died in an off-track accident. So I started hunting down the lost and forgotten jockeys. My blogs are going to be about what I've done, who I've found and how I feel about this journey. One day it would be great to put them in a book and use the proceeds to fund a museum dedicated to NZ racing. But till then ... I'm going to be a Jockey PI and leave no stone unturned in my search for their stories.
I know this all started out from something sad, but what I've learned so far is that these men and women lived, and if they could tell us anything, it would be to grab each moment in our day and go for it ...... the number of jockeys/riders killed during their careers now stands at about 140. As I search some I've dropped off the list as they'd retired or had stopped before they passed on. Still it's sobering to think that 140 men and women have died so far.
Henry Thomas Bloomfield #2
Henry Thomas Bloomfield was the son of Martha Saffron and William Bloomfield born the 31st of October 1847 in Tasmania, Australia. From what I have discovered Henry was the youngest son. Henry and an older brother John came to NZ together, and lived and worked around the Greymouth and Charleston areas. Greymouth is on the Westcoast of the South Island of NZ. Charleston just up the coast a bit.
Henry was riding in Greymouth when he was fatally injured. It was March 1869 when Henry was riding a horse called 'Gamester' at the Omoto Racecourse on the first day of the race meeting. As they approached a hurdle, Henry's horse hit the hurdle with his front legs causing Henry to be thrown over the hurdle and the horse then followed rolling on him. Other jockeys reported Henry standing up, but then staggering and falling to the ground. An autopsy revealed Henry's liver had burst and he had died within minutes of being injured. His brother who was working in the gold fields in Charleston came to Greymouth to take care of the funeral arrangements. The newspapers of the day wrote how the procession moved through the city and how the merchants all closed their doors and everyone stood in respect to the fallen jockey as the procession passed by. I think the saddest thing I read was how his brother walked alone behind the carriage as the chief mourner. After reading the description of the funeral, I thought about Henry's family in Tasmania and how awful for them to lose him so young (21 years). I tried to find out about Henry's Australian family and discovered by chance that John Bloomfield is mentioned in a book as having been in the gold fields of NZ before returning to Australia to make his fortune. Man was I stoked to find that reference. Any genealogist worth their salt will tell you ... 'get two sources to confirm a fact'. Henry's family included William, John, Robert, Margaret, Joseph and Ambrose. I think there is a missing child in there born about 1854. Still have a way to go on the Bloomfield family tree but it's falling into place slowly.
As for Gamester the horse - he was ridden the next day in the Hurdle Handicap. It seems he was none the worse for the fall, he won the race.
The day before he died, Henry attended the funeral of one of his close friends Samuel Finlay who was killed when a block of cement fell and killed him a few days earlier in Charleston.
The reason the funeral procession of Henry Bloomfield doesn't leave my mind is because my family moved to Greymouth while I was in my last year of high school. I played hockey and one Saturday during a game the ref suddenly blew the whistle (I of course was looking for the infringement but couldn't see one) then I watched with growing respect as every girl on the field and the spectators turned to pause, remove their hats and quiet the children running around as a funeral procession passed by. As soon as the cars were gone, the game was back on. I'd never experienced that before and it made me think that small town values were long gone from some places in my country. How sad.
Henry was riding in Greymouth when he was fatally injured. It was March 1869 when Henry was riding a horse called 'Gamester' at the Omoto Racecourse on the first day of the race meeting. As they approached a hurdle, Henry's horse hit the hurdle with his front legs causing Henry to be thrown over the hurdle and the horse then followed rolling on him. Other jockeys reported Henry standing up, but then staggering and falling to the ground. An autopsy revealed Henry's liver had burst and he had died within minutes of being injured. His brother who was working in the gold fields in Charleston came to Greymouth to take care of the funeral arrangements. The newspapers of the day wrote how the procession moved through the city and how the merchants all closed their doors and everyone stood in respect to the fallen jockey as the procession passed by. I think the saddest thing I read was how his brother walked alone behind the carriage as the chief mourner. After reading the description of the funeral, I thought about Henry's family in Tasmania and how awful for them to lose him so young (21 years). I tried to find out about Henry's Australian family and discovered by chance that John Bloomfield is mentioned in a book as having been in the gold fields of NZ before returning to Australia to make his fortune. Man was I stoked to find that reference. Any genealogist worth their salt will tell you ... 'get two sources to confirm a fact'. Henry's family included William, John, Robert, Margaret, Joseph and Ambrose. I think there is a missing child in there born about 1854. Still have a way to go on the Bloomfield family tree but it's falling into place slowly.
As for Gamester the horse - he was ridden the next day in the Hurdle Handicap. It seems he was none the worse for the fall, he won the race.
The day before he died, Henry attended the funeral of one of his close friends Samuel Finlay who was killed when a block of cement fell and killed him a few days earlier in Charleston.
The reason the funeral procession of Henry Bloomfield doesn't leave my mind is because my family moved to Greymouth while I was in my last year of high school. I played hockey and one Saturday during a game the ref suddenly blew the whistle (I of course was looking for the infringement but couldn't see one) then I watched with growing respect as every girl on the field and the spectators turned to pause, remove their hats and quiet the children running around as a funeral procession passed by. As soon as the cars were gone, the game was back on. I'd never experienced that before and it made me think that small town values were long gone from some places in my country. How sad.
Monday, 3 October 2011
Jockey #1 from 1848
I need to take some drastic action if I'm to get this poor guy uncovered. The NZTA gave me very little to go on for the first jockey they have on record who was fatally injured. All they wrote was "Unknown Maori Boy - Wangnui - 1848.
Facts as they are:
1) Maori Boys in 1848 didn't own horses, the Maori (native New Zealanders) did have horses, but not many. Chiefs or warriors would have ridden them, not boys.
2) In Whanganui (Wanganui now it has been renamed again) the Militia were based in and around the area in 1848. There is a record of them holding horse races in December of 1848. The date varies depending on what source you have, but two dates seem the most logical. 22 of December or 28th of December. My leaning is towards the 28th of December as this port town would have celebrated Christmas then before New Years celebrations kicked off, it would have been perfect to bridge the two festive dates by having the horse race.
3) I think the UMB would have possibly been a groom for an officer in the militia or just a boy who hung around the stables, when the owner of the horse couldn't make the ride, the boy would have stepped up and if he knew the horse, the valuable animal would have been given to him ... a familiar rider.
4) The wording implies that the UMB was probably between 10 - 13yrs old, if he was older he'd have been called a Lad.
So as of today I don't know who he was, or how he was injured. Kinda sad really. I was in Ratahi (central North Island) and while going through the museum I found a picture of the Whanganui Race course a few years after 1848. I paid for a copy of the image, and am waiting for it to be sent to me. I'll add it when it arrives so you can see how it looked. While I wait for the postie, I'll try and think of other places to search besides the Archives in Wellington.
Facts as they are:
1) Maori Boys in 1848 didn't own horses, the Maori (native New Zealanders) did have horses, but not many. Chiefs or warriors would have ridden them, not boys.
2) In Whanganui (Wanganui now it has been renamed again) the Militia were based in and around the area in 1848. There is a record of them holding horse races in December of 1848. The date varies depending on what source you have, but two dates seem the most logical. 22 of December or 28th of December. My leaning is towards the 28th of December as this port town would have celebrated Christmas then before New Years celebrations kicked off, it would have been perfect to bridge the two festive dates by having the horse race.
3) I think the UMB would have possibly been a groom for an officer in the militia or just a boy who hung around the stables, when the owner of the horse couldn't make the ride, the boy would have stepped up and if he knew the horse, the valuable animal would have been given to him ... a familiar rider.
4) The wording implies that the UMB was probably between 10 - 13yrs old, if he was older he'd have been called a Lad.
So as of today I don't know who he was, or how he was injured. Kinda sad really. I was in Ratahi (central North Island) and while going through the museum I found a picture of the Whanganui Race course a few years after 1848. I paid for a copy of the image, and am waiting for it to be sent to me. I'll add it when it arrives so you can see how it looked. While I wait for the postie, I'll try and think of other places to search besides the Archives in Wellington.
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