Statuesque: Reverend Canon Charles Jordan, 1839-1912 - by Helen Towgood
Dear Canon Charles Jordan
The year is 2009. 2012 will be the 100th anniversary of your passing; the passing, it would seem, of one of Tauranga’s foremost and much-loved spiritual and civil leaders.
Strangely, however, it is through your Eighth Avenue home (you being the original owner and I the current owner) that our paths have crossed. That your home still stands after 126 years is a rarity in Tauranga. That YOU still stand, albeit as a statue in the Tauranga Domain, is an unprecedented tribute.
I do hope that this letter is not an unwelcome intrusion but I felt you deserved an account of the legacy you have left.
I am writing to you from the north-facing verandah of your old home. I cannot imagine how Tauranga looked in 1873 when you arrived from your homeland, Ireland. You may recall Tauranga’s population at the time was 574. More than 100,000 people now call Tauranga home and it is New Zealand’s fifth largest urban centre. That must surely make you proud! You were first to suggest Tauranga become a borough and then you were mayor nine times.
The view from the verandah in your time would have been very different. Today, Tauranga Harbour is still visible, the property’s elevation and the Seventh Avenue gully preserving the view. Sadly, however, the view due north to the Mount has been lost.
But you will be thrilled to know that the three trees beyond the verandah, a gingko (maidenhair) and two beeches, have grown into impressive specimen trees. The gingko is so large its branches span the width of the house. Its dense canopy provides welcome protection from summer’s searing sun.
But it is winter now and the leaves are off the trees. As I write, a cacophony of birdsong accompanies me. Many trees of early Tauranga have disappeared, victims to housing and coveted water views. And so, many birds congregate here. Their melodic chatter evokes the spirit of the Māori proverb: The birds call. The day begins. And I am alive. Like your home, the kauri on the west boundary is very much alive. Home to tūī, it towers, sentry-like, above the roofline: guardian of the home.
I am pleased to have solved the mystery of the severed path that runs between the two beech trees. How so? During a chance meeting in an antiques shop, a gentleman explained that your stables used to be in the swampy gully below. Also, that the Memorial Park land, opposite Seventh Avenue, is named Jordan Field. Your property access must have been from Devonport Road.
The fire that destroyed Tauranga’s Government Buildings in 1902 has made uncovering information about your old home unduly difficult. All Council records of early Tauranga properties were lost.
When we purchased the home in 1993, I travelled to the Land Registry Office in Hamilton (a much shorter journey than in your day) for copies of the property’s various Certificates of Title, including change of ownership details. What a history these documents revealed!
The first Certificate of Title cited you as the owner in 1879, but two other names, Peter Benson and John Dixon (both Australians), preceded yours. As soldiers of the 1st Waikato Militia, they had been granted separate allotments ‘under the hand of Sir George Ferguson Bowen ... Governor of New Zealand’ in 1869, as reward for their military service during the 1864 Battles of Gate Pā and Te Ranga.
The two allotments were part of the 30 acres that Archdeacon Brown had secured on behalf of the Church Missionary Society from local chiefs. They had entrusted him to hold the land “for the benefit of the Māori people”. However, in 1867 the Crown commandeered a good portion of this land for the settlement of soldiers. EventuNgāi te rangi rangi were compensated for the confiscated land, along with a retrospective and “symbolic” pardon – 116 years on.
I digress, however. What amazes me is that since purchase in 1879 and the building of the house in 1883, the property remained in your family eighty-six years. Only three other families, including our own, have lived here since 1965.
In 2004 your great-grandson, Gareth Clemson, an accomplished composer in Scotland, visited. He commented that friends of his grandmother’s (your daughter Marguerite), used to say what a peaceful atmosphere the house had.
I have often suspected it has its own heartbeat. Many of the original features still remain. Kauri floors and ceiling panels, sash windows, fireplaces and high ceilings: each an ingredient of the palpable ambience that pervades the home. Other character features – the roughcast stucco exterior and leadlight windows – were most likely later additions.
I have come to understand why “the people of Tauranga” immortalised you in marble, to be remembered as “A friend and benefactor to all.” These words are etched on the monument dedicated to you in November 1915.
You were the Vicar of the Holy Trinity Church (later proclaimed a Canon by your Bishop), a long-standing mayor, magistrate, a member and chairman of innumerable committees and organisations, instigator of significant community initiatives and friend to notable political dignitaries, including Richard John Seddon.
Through your service and dedication you earned the love and respect of your community, even those who had earlier objected to your forthright manner and impulsive actions. Lieut.-Col. Roberts’ welcome-home address, in the company of 300 townspeople, is a poignant example of community sentiment. The year was 1907 and you had just disembarked, after journeying to Australia and Ireland.
“We desire to show our appreciation of your many past services to the township during your thirty-four years amongst us.... Your absence has been keenly felt.... We sincerely trust you will...be amongst us for many years to come.”
You died five years later, having caught a chill on a return journey from a Charitable Aid Board meeting in Whakatāne.
Man of God, family man and esteemed local identity of early Tauranga; I pay tribute to you, and we will remember you.
Yours in spirit,
Helen