Families are a treasure trove of entertainment
For fear, perhaps, that I might not be quite as Irish Catholic as I like to think – how else could I explain all the guilt, booze and shame? – I’ve stopped short of subjecting myself to one of those DNA tests in fashion of late. A friend, proudly self-identifying as Italian stock, undertook one last year only to discover he was no such thing, highlighting why the tests apparently come with a warning that the results may disconcert one’s sense of identity.
But who needs DNA when we have PapersPast, the extraordinary searchable database available online through the National Library? What an incredible resource! If you haven’t checked it out, you should, especially if your family’s been in New Zealand for as long as mine.
With a few simple search terms, I’ve been able to uncover a Netflix costume drama’s worth of material on my father’s side alone.
Our original New Zealand ancestor, Charles Quin, turns out to be a colourful character, albeit one who came to a tragic end.
According to an article published in June 1879 by the Poverty Bay Herald, entitled ‘‘Denouncing from the Pulpit in Patea’’, Charles got himself involved in what can only be described as fisticuffs with his parish priest and congregants over allegations that he (Charles) was scamming the parishioners out of money intended for a church rebuild.
The reverend’s denunciation went too far for Charles when his antics were compared to those of deliciously named American evangelical shysters Moody and Sankey. ‘‘Mr Quin could stand it no longer,’’ went the account, ‘‘rising in the church, demand[ing] to be heard, that he might clear his character’’.
At this, the priest raced from the pulpit to evict Charles, urging the parishioners to help ‘‘put him out’’: ‘‘one of them, Mr O’Shea, using great violence, and forcing Quin against a half-opened door in such a way as to cause him serious injury’’.
It didn’t end there; much litigation ensued.
Phew, if it had rolled like this, I might have stuck with church longer.
Sadly, it didn’t end well for Charles, who took his own life by self-inflicted gunshot in his late 50s. The details surrounding the suicide were canvassed in incredible detail in the Hawera & Normanby Star, including the graphic testimony at the inquests of his 10-year-old daughter, Mary, who found the body. Charles’ death, the Star concluded, ‘‘was undoubtedly a release from great bodily, as well as mental, affliction, under which the balance of the deceased’s intellect at the last gave way’’. Tragedy aside, it’s hard not to admire the rhetorical flourishes of 19th-century journalism.
As it turns out, Charles was not the only early Quin to find himself in legal trouble. His son, William Alphonsus, was successfully sued for ‘‘breach of promise’’ by a spurned fiancee, a Wellington dressmaker who had gone as far for him as converting to Roman Catholicism.
The letters between the two were published verbatim in an extensive Evening Post account. Ultimately, he was ordered to pay his oncebetrothed £175 in damages, roughly his annual income as a hardware store proprietor.
He later found himself in another convoluted scandal, this time over conflicting libel claims involving his eventual wife and another woman who, one can only infer, was also less than impressed with his shenanigans. Quite the cad.
My direct ancestor, Alphonsus’ brother John Thomas (ahem), was a more upstanding sort, a veritable town elder: the extent of his legal wrongdoing involved once failing to feed the horses.
None of this is to say my family history is any more noteworthy than yours, but to illustrate the deep and rich resource available to all of us. I have a history degree, but it would have taken me months of tireless research to uncover a fraction of these juicy details – and this itself is a fraction of what we as a family have managed to find using PapersPast and other digital resources in New Zealand and beyond.
It also casts a spotlight on how newspapers once covered the minutiae of local news. It seems no event was too small, no issue too trivial, to warrant careful and detailed reporting.
It must have played a vital role in creating a sense of community in early Pa¯ keha¯ New Zealand. It’s sad to reflect on that but, as we jump from one digital-age moral panic to the next, PapersPast should be a reminder of how truly illuminating the internet can be.
With a few simple search terms, I’ve been able to uncover a Netflix costume drama’s worth of material on my father’s side alone.