Days of future past
In 1905, Edward Breckon predicted ‘‘the day is not far distant when a determined agitation will arise for properly constructed cycle paths’’. He wrote a letter to the editor of the
expressing his pleasure at a motion put at a meeting of Hamilton Borough Council, that ‘‘cyclists be allowed to use a 4ft track on the outside of the footpaths, except in Victoria Street between the station and Knox’s corner’’. Breckon felt ‘‘this progressive measure at last recognised the rights of those who use bicycles as a rapid and convenient means of locomotion’’. He hoped that the paths within the prescribed area would be available between sunrise and 8am to enable cyclists to get to work.
Progressive measure indeed, and of course Breckon’s prediction has come to pass, in far greater measure than he was contemplating, with cycleways constructed and opened throughout the country.
Breckon did not have the advantage of a specially-constructed cycleway when he undertook a marathon ride in 1929 – from Hamilton to Wellington. He made the trip in 61⁄2 days and arrived looking fit and well. He was then 73 years old and made national news.
By 1927 Breckon had made his name as an enthusiastic longdistance cyclist, having completed a ride from Hamilton to Auckland in
12 hours, and from Hamilton to Arapuni in five hours. For the 1927 Dunlop North Island Championship cycle race from Hamilton to Auckland, Breckon insisted on being handicapped ‘‘with the boys’’ despite his 70 years ‘‘and promises to surprise them when it comes to staying’’ Sept 27,
1927). Perhaps the handouts of raisins, chocolate and Bovril helped – he substantially lowered his time to
8hr 33 minutes.
Cycling was not the only sport he was adept at – he was a champion of the greasy boom. This popular sport had been around for decades, apparently consisting of a spar or mast positioned horizontally out over the water and greased with fat. Breckon won the greasy boom competition at the 1905 carnival at Hamilton Lake.
Originally from Yorkshire, Edward Breckon settled in Onehunga in 1879 and worked as a carpenter. He married Jane Hawke Green in 1886. They were to have four children – son Arthur became a commercial photographer, working in Hamilton for Henry Gaze before gaining a post with the
in 1913; Auckland Museum and Hamilton Libraries.
Edward and Jane shifted from Onehunga to Waitetuna, farming there for a few years from 1894 and came to Hamilton in about 1904. Breckon resumed his trade of carpenter and in 1905 he was appointed caretaker of the Hamilton Town Hall. Jane suffered for years with a painful illness and died in October 1904 aged only 39 years.
After Jane’s death Edward married Mary Annie Thorne – she was 18 years younger than him and bore him another daughter when he was 64.
Breckons Avenue in Nawton is named after Edward Breckon – he owned several acres there which he subdivided in 1914 and 1920. The property was named Rosedale.
Edward Breckon died in 1933 and was buried in Hamilton West Cemetery.
❚ Thanksto Hamilton Libraries Heritage Team member Susy Thomas for her assistance with research.
❚ Guided tour Saturday March 23 of Hamilton East and West Cemeteries at 9.30-11.30 and 1.30-3.00 respectively. Today the presence of Hollywood filmmakers in New Zealand attracts media attention. So it was 91 years ago when Alexander Markey, from Universal Studios, passed through Hamilton en route to Rotorua. On the 5th of March, 1928, an article appeared in the
announcing Markey’s intention to make a ‘‘super picture’’, which would ‘‘bring out all the subtleties and softness of the Maori nature and would reveal to the outside world the nobleness of the Maori character’’.
For the leading parts, he was looking for ‘‘the most beautiful Maori girl in New Zealand and the finest specimen of young Maori manhood’’.
Markey was described as a ‘‘producer’’, a ‘‘well known writer and lecturer’’ and ‘‘a man of high culture and artistic inspiration’’ who ‘‘knows exactly what he is after’’.
It’s likely he was none of these things, having never directed a feature film before. To do so inside two months, aspiring to make ‘‘a masterpiece’’, for he ‘‘ . . . would not have come all the way out here otherwise’’, proved difficult. By July Markey’s participation in the project was over.
Having wasted four months and nearly $50,000 he was fired by Universal.
reported that rain played a part in delays, but the would-be director had also proved profligate, paying ‘‘his Maori company’’ in ‘‘wet weather and fine’’ and spending 15 pounds on transporting a canoe from Ngaruawahia to Ohiwa, near Whakatane, when ‘‘one could have been had closer’’.
Markey had a good relationship with local iwi. His replacement, assistant director Lew Collins, was said to be ‘‘hated’’ by Maori. Given Collins reportedly ‘‘looked down upon them as ‘a pack of niggers’ ’’, this was understandable.
Regardless, Collins did complete the film. Markey, meanwhile, continued to work on his own project. In December of 1930 he was before the courts, defending charges that he had maliciously prosecuted a former cameraman in his employ whom he believed had stolen photographic equipment.