Chapter 12
The Gores in New Zealand

12.1 Hugh and James in Otago

Gabriel Read’s discovery of gold at what is now known as Gabriels Gully, near Lawrence, took place in 1861. In the following year more and richer discoveries were made at “The Dunstan”, now called Clyde, on the Arrow River, and in late 1862 on the Shotover River. “The stories reaching Melbourne from the Otago gold diggings.........became so sensational, especially the accounts of gains from the beaches of the Shotover River, that James Gore caught the gold fever again. As his old father realised that the building trade in Dunedin was bound to be very brisk with the usual rapid growth of a gold-rush port of entry, he raised no objection to his son’s wish to leave for New Zealand,” writes Mick Gore. Mick’s notes continue: “So winding up his affairs in Melbourne he left for Dunedin with his son’s wife and family, while his son James left for the gold diggings on the Shotover.”

There is some doubt whether James left Australia at the same time as Hugh, Sarah and the children. The biographical note on James, presumably supplied by him, in the “Cyclopedia of Otago and Southland” states that he came to Otago in 1861. The biographical note on his son, Charles James Gore, presumably supplied by him, states that he “arrived at Port Chalmers at the age of eight”, which would be 1863, consistent with Mick’s account above. We may surmise that James, as was not uncommon during the gold rush, preceded his family and father in order to try his luck without risking their futures. This seems to be a minor inconsistency in Mick’s account. Although Gilkison, in “Early Days in Central Otago”, was able to write “By August [1861] ships from Australia were pouring into Otago”, the Shotover discovery did not take place until December 1862, that is after James’ stated arrival in Otago, although before Hugh’s. However, James may have begun his gold-seeking in or near Lawrence, moving to the Shotover later.


Figure 12.1: Grave of Hugh Gore, Melbourne

Mick goes on to write that on the Shotover, James “met with more success than he had in Australia, being one of the original shareholders in the “Big Beach” claim. For the next two or three years James Gore spent the summer at the gold diggings and the winter with his family in Dunedin, where his father, Hugh, had made a start in the building trade. [Hugh turned 60 during this time. - ALT] After a few years of this, James ceased his visits to the diggings, and went into business as a building contractor.” In 1864 and 1866 Sarah gave birth to James’ last two children, Elizabeth Ellen (“Hilty”) [G.1], and William Henry (“Bill” or “Willie”) [G.1], both in Dunedin. Sarah died in 1898 [G.1].

The “Big Beach” claim provides a link, possibly tenuous, between James Gore and L.O. (“Ossie”) Beal, the civil and mining engineer who married Jessie Dalrymple Kinvig (see notes on the Hellyers). Ossie Beal was closely connected with the Otago gold-mining industry and a pioneer in the development of gold dredging. The biographical notes on him in the “Cyclopedia of Otago and Southland” include the statement: “He was the first to introduce gold-dredging on a large scale and for this purpose organised the original Big Beach Dredging Company on the Shotover River, and thereby demonstrated that it was not necessary for ground to be covered with water to enable it to be dredged”. Presumably this was the same Big Beach, although perhaps a later company, that rewarded James Gore with his gold winnings. Jessie Kinvig was sister to Alfred Kinvig who married Emma Hellyer [H.1], an aunt of my mother.

The building business of Hugh and James Gore thrived. They built many terrace houses in early Dunedin, including a block of them in Hope Street round the corner from Stafford Street, where they at one time lived. The Hellyers also lived in this terrace.

Hugh in his last years returned to Australia, and died there. The old James Gore photo album includes a photograph of a headstone, believed to be in a Melbourne cemetery. The inscription reads: In memory of Hugh Gore born Feby 29, 1804, died Novr 21, 1875”.

12.2 James Gore in Dunedin

As James Gore became more successful he extended his building activities to include large public buildings. In 1873 he was awarded the contract for St Matthew’s Church (originally called St Thomas’) in Stafford Street. This handsome church still stands. In “Buildings of Dunedin”, the authors, Hardwicke Knight and Niel Wales, note (p.178) that James Gore “had not previously been employed on so large a building designed by an architect”. Subsequent large buildings built by James Gore included the Union Bank of Australia (now ANZ Bank) in Princes Street built in 1874, the Bank of New Zealand also in Princes Street, and Seacliff Hospital built 1879-1883, the architect for which was R. A. Lawson.

James Gore, and Lawson too, must have come to regret their involvement in this last project. Before work began some fears were expressed about the stability of the site, especially by James (later Sir James) Hector, the government geologist. Hector mentioned slips and questioned, among other things, the massive tower in Lawson’s design. However, as Knight and Wales write, “the building was proceeded with, and there is no question that the tower was a superb and crowning glory to the tremendous building, the largest in New Zealand at that time.

Unfortunately trouble was experienced as early as 1883. It had become of such concern and public rumour of scandal that in 1888 the government appointed a three-man Commission of Enquiry. I have a copy of the proceedings of the enquiry and of the Commission’s report, given to me by Vera Gore, a grandaughter of James Gore. The proceedings were distinctly acrimonious. The three main parties involved, R. A. Lawson the architect, James Gore the contractor, and W. N. Blair representing the Public Works Department, which had overall responsibility for the project including selection of the site, each showed as concerned not to be blamed for the cracking of the structure and the movement this implied. The Commission became bogged in a mass of technical detail relating to the execution of the work. Confusion was compounded by contradictory evidence about the nature and amount of movement of the building. Not surprisingly the report failed to identify the underlying cause of the problems being experienced - namely the unstable geological strata that Hector had drawn attention to at the outset.

Knight and Wales note that “By 1945 parts of the building had to be demolished, including the great tower, on account of earth movements which cracked and twisted the structure.” Thus Sir James Hector’s reservations, not given sufficient weight at the time, were only too sadly confirmed. [The same unstable geological formations have caused persistent movement on both the Main North and Main South Roads out of Dunedin, on the Kilmog and Saddle Hill respectively, and also gave rise to the relatively recent Abbotsford slip. - ALT]


Figure 12.2: James Gore, taken in Melbourne

James Gore’s son, Walter John [G.1], was associated with him during the construction of Seacliff Hospital. That association continued. Knight and Wales, in describing the Tokomairiro Presbyterian Church at Milton, another Lawson design, built in 1889, note that the contractors were “J. and W. Gore”. By this time James was 56 years old.

In the early 1880s James Gore established a brickworks at Wingatui. Initially all three sons [G.1], Charles James, Walter John, and William Henry, seem to have been involved in this enterprise. Early bricks were imprinted with the name “GORE” on one face; later ones only with a “G”. I have one of the early ones given me by Vera Gore. Knight and Wales record that the bricks for the Government Life Insurance Building, built in 1897 on the corner of Rattray and Princes Streets were supplied “by the Gore Brothers of Wingatui”. I believe that the brickworks became the responsibility of C.J. and W.H. Gore, while Walter John was the son involved with James in the contracting business.

Besides being a successful building contractor, James became a public figure of some note. In 1873 he became foundation president of the Dunedin Builders and Contractors Association (K and W. loc.cit). He entered the Dunedin City Council in 1877 as a member or South Ward. He served a term as Mayor of Dunedin 1881-82, and continued as Councillor for many years. He represented the City of Dunedin in the House of Representatives 1884-87. His rail pass, a gold coin, engraved, and pierced so as to hang on a watch chain, has survived. It was given by Grandpa Titchener to my brother, Gray, along with a collection of foreign coins collected by E.W. Titchener. During James’ term as Mayor, his eldest daughter Anne (“Auntie Annie”) [G.1] acted as his Mayoress, although his wife was still alive. When I asked Vera Gore why this happened, she told me that her grandmother, James’ wife, when she turned 40, announced that she was now an old woman, and,, almost literally, put her feet up and expected her daughters and the household maid to look after her. When James was elected Mayor, she refused to have anything to do with the office of Mayoress. She was about 44 at this time.

James Gore also served on licensing committees for High Ward and South Ward, as a member of the Dunedin Drainage Board, and of the Charitable Aid Board. He was a prominent freemason.

Late in his career James, according to my father, won the contract for the tunnels on the Otago Central Railway line in the Taieri Gorge between Milton and Middlemarch, and lost most of his money there because of his lack of tunnelling experience. When he died in 1917 his estate was worth the relatively modest sum of L8420 (document in Zeita Sonntag’s possession).

12.3 The Children of James Gore

12.3.1 Anne Gore

Anne (“Auntie Annie”) [G.1], James and Sarah Ann Gore’s eldest child, never married. I remember her as a tall, angular, gauntly forbidding figure, always dressed in black and wearing a black “choker”. When she went out she always wore a hat, black with a black veil. She lived in a substantial single-storey brick bungalow behind a brick fence on Queens Drive. On the beach side of it stood the even more substantial two-storey brick house that had been Walter John Gore’s. By the time I first knew it, it was occupied by Walter John’s widow, “Auntie Kay”, born Kezia Stait [G.1] and her large family of unmarried though adult children. On the other side of Auntie Annie’s place was another large two-storey brick house, the local Methodist manse, the home for a time during my early childhood of Basil Metson, his wife “Nell”, who was one of the McNair aunts of my mother, and their family of daughters.

On some Sunday afternoons when we were at Grandpa and Grandma Titchener’s, Auntie Annie would pay a visit, usually accompanied by her “companion”, whose name I recall only as “Harriet”. Harriet was as rotundly cheerful as Auntie Annie was sparely severe. On these occasions we would be warned not to play games. So “Rival Rovers” would be put away, and the pack of cards. Even building card houses was frowned on, so strict were Auntie Annie’s religious taboos. This made for a dreary afternoon if the weather was too cold or too wet for us (Gray and me) to play outside. Sometimes we, that is to say Gray and I and Mum, would call briefly on Auntie Annie, usually, as I recall it, on our way home after one of our Sunday afternoon visits to Grandma and Grandpa. We would be ushered in by Harriet and led into the sitting room, where Auntie Annie would be seated in a high-backed chair, from which she would hold brief but awesome court.


Figure 12.3: “The Three Graces”: Annie, Polly and Hilty Gore, daughters of James

Auntie Annie was in her eighties when she died. She must have depended on an annuity of some kind left by her father, or perhaps an income from a share in the brickworks. Her father must also have left her her house. Perhaps he lived in it with her in his last years. Not long before she died she gave me a silver watch. It had been hers, and was of the kind that hung from a ribbon pinned to the bodice of a woman’s dress. She had had it altered so that I could wear it as a wrist watch. It had, I think, been a 21st birthday gift to her, and was given to me on my 12th birthday I believe. It was my first watch, and I was very proud of it, and of its age. I used it for many years. When one of the links broke that carried the wrist strap I then used to carry it round in a small “Throatie” tin which I had sanded and polished and lined with cotton wool. I gave it up only when repairs to the movement became impossible.

When she died Auntie Annie’s house was bought by Dr Oestreicher, and the Oestreichers lived in it for many years. They were refugees from Hitler’s Germany who had had the good sense and enough money to get out early in the Nazi regime. I remember occasionally seeing them, father, mother, and their only son Paul, walking along Queens Drive. They looked strange in their long, alien overcoats, and Paul in a large cap that came down to his ears, quite unlike our pimples of school caps. There was a certain amount of muttering at Grandpa and Grandma Titchener’s and even more at Auntie Kay’s about these German foreigners. Were they Jews? (They weren’t.) How were they so well off? Wasn’t the Doctor seeing too many patients? (He was very popular and successful in his practice.) Was he a quack? (Some of his treatments were doubtless unorthodox compared with conventional New Zealand medical practice.) And so on. Paul probably had a pretty rough time of it at school, and I should have felt sorry for the little boy so obviously without friends, but instead took on the suspicions that derived from the foolish gossip of my elders. I mention the Oestreichers here only because of the quite different association that developed between them and Margaret’s Auntie Ida White.

12.3.2 Charles James Gore

Of the three sons of James Gore I know little. Charles James (“Charlie”) [G.1., G.2] and Walter John (“John” or “Jack”) [G.1, G.3] both died before I was born, and I do not recall hearing talk about them when I was a child. The third and youngest, William Henry (“Willie”) [G.1, G.4], lived at Wingatui, which seemed quite remote to my childish mind.

Charlie married Emily (“Essie”) Lack [G.2]. She was one of a musical family. Her father ran a violin school in the city, his several daughters all played stringed instruments, and he and they could muster a string quartet.

Charles and Emily had four children [G.2] of whom the only one known to me was Henry Charles (“Harry”) [G.2]. The only other son, Hugh, died at the age of 17 of peritonitis. The two daughters, Florence (“Cis”) [G.2] and Doris Margery (“Dod”) [G.2] both married and had children. Dod’s only child, Charles, was killed in World War I. I know nothing of Cis’s descendants.

Harry [G.2] as a young man went to Durban for about two years, where he worked as a tram driver. Back in Dunedin he became a studio photographer. He married Nellie Willis who came from Uffington in England. They had a large family of nine children. Zeita, the eldest, was some nine years older than me, Henry, the youngest, seven years younger. They lived in Bedford Street, St Clair, in a large two-storey wooden house that always looked outwardly untidy. It was only about two blocks round the corner from our place in Beach Street. Harry was a talented photographer but erratic. He was often referred to as the black sheep of the Gore family. According to Zeita he would disappear for long periods, generally when there was another baby on the way. The family could never have been well off, and Zeita remarked to me of “Dill” Gore’s [G.3] kindness, and what excitement there was among the children whenever Dill appeared carrying a parcel - which meant “new” clothes for them.

Although Dad and Harry were first cousins and we lived so near, the two families had little contact. Dad did not have much time for Harry. It would not be surprising if the feeling were mutual. I suppose Dad’s attitude rubbed off on us boys.

Verna and June [G.2] were in my class at St Clair School. With my close boyhood friend, Guy Kensington, I shared an unspoken admiration for Charlie Gore and his friend, Bert Lewis, a handsome and athletic pair who would regularly walk or jog past our place on the way to the St Clair Surf Life Saving Club or back to the Lewis’ in Norfolk Street. Hugh, too, several years my senior at High School, was one of another group of admired older boys. Hugh on leaving school joined the RAF. He was killed in World War II. Charlie joined the Navy in World War II. He was badly wounded at Guadalcanal.


Figure 12.4: Charles James Gore, eldest son of James Gore

Charlie’s first marriage broke up, apparently not without strife, for his first wife (nee Eileen Simpson) slashed one of the Gore portraits Charlie had inherited. These portraits were of Hugh and James Gore. According to Vera Gore they had been painted in London shortly before Hugh, James and James’ wife sailed for Australia. When I was a small boy they used to hang in Auntie Kay’s place in Queens Drive, one in the front hall, the other on the stairs. I do not remember them well, but Vera describes Hugh and James as being dressed in fashionable clothes of the day, evidently provided specially for the portrait sitting, and not at all like what they would have worn as builders in Liverpool or as prospective emigrants to the Victorian goldfields. Presumably these portraits were given to Charlie when the surviving family of Walter John Gore sold his house and moved away from Queens Drive.


Figure 12.5: Henry Charles (“Harry”) Gore, eldest son of Charles James Gore

Norma Gore [G.2] I recall only as a rather beautiful younger sister of Verna and June, and in a class a year or two behind me at St Clair School.

Henry [G.2], the last of the children of Harry and Nellie, was six years younger than Norma, l6 years younger than Zeita. He bacame a very senior officer in the Traffic Department of the Ministry of Transport, but I still see him as a small street urchin forever on the loose in the streets near ours. This image is fixed by the remark he made when he encountered one of his bosom pals and which was overheard by Dad as he passed them on his way home from work one day: “What the hell ya got there, Lyall?” Henry was about four at the time.

I did not know Zeita [G.2] or Koda [G.2] at all during those years, but in recent times have sought them out to get help with the Gore family trees, which they have freely and warmly given. Zeita in particular has a lot of Gore (and Lack) photos and some papers.

12.3.3 Mary Gore

Mary, or “Polly” [G.1] as she was always known, the second of James’ daughters, married John Fothergill [G.1], whom she invariably called “Foggle”. To us they were always Auntie Polly and Uncle Fothergill. Auntie Polly was a short, plump, and outwardly jolly person, though perhaps she had less reason than many to be jolly. Both of her sons were killed in World War I. Arthur [G.1] died at Gallipoli. Jack [G.1], who was then in Australia, decided he should return to New Zealand to enlist and “do his bit”. He was killed in France in 1917. Their daughter Beryl [G.1] married Thomas Coull Jr of the well-known firm of printers and stationers, Coulls, Somerville and Wilkie (later Whitcoulls). Beryl and Tom’s children were of an age with us children. Tom Coull Sr and his wife lived next door to us in Beach Street for many years. After they died Roland [G.1], Beryl’s eldest son, and his wife, Rena (nee Melville), came to live there. By that time Margaret and I had married and were living at Margaret’s father’s place in George Street. Their eldest son, Alan [G.1] later became close to our Janet, who was friendly also with their daughter, Kate [G.1].

My first memory of Uncle Fothergill and Auntie Polly is of visiting them in their house in Queens Drive. This brick villa stood behind a holly hedge not far from Grandpa and Grandma Titchener’s, but on the opposite side of the road. It is still there. I see them sitting in the sun on the front porch of this conventional two-bay-windows-and-a-portico house, she with her embroidery, he under a wide-brimmed Panama hat sucking at a briar pipe. He had retired by this time. He had been a successful businessman - a traveller in soft goods and a principal in the Union Felt Hat Company, which had premises in North Dunedin. Shortly afterwards they moved to a handsome one-and-a-half storey brick house in Sandringham Street, where he kept a beautiful garden. My earliest recollection of being inside that house is of being taken there on a Christmas afternoon, after our midday Christmas dinner with Grandpa and Grandma Titchener. We were led upstairs into a darkened attic where, wonder of wonders, was a lighted Christmas tree shining in the dark, and a Father Christmas alongside it. The Coulls were there too. This was before we had left Calder Street. I must have been about eight. Off the tree came the most wonderful Christmas present I have ever received - a “No. 1” Meccano set. It launched me on an almost 10-year love affair with Meccano, which grew in size as I in age. When I finally quit it - I had the idea of offering it to the New Zealand Correspondence School after a chance hearing of a broadcast to their Meccano Club members - there were literally several thousand parts. Of course Father Christmas was Uncle Fothergill. No other Christmas was ever quite like it.

Uncle Fothergill was short, broad, and stooped. When he went out he always wore a black frock-coat and a top hat. He walked with a slow measured tread, his hands clasped behind his back, and whistled an unendingly repeated three-note “tune”. His speech was slow and precise, although he never lost his North Country accent. He could not abide children when they mumbled. He seemed a formidable figure. Behind this awesome facade, however, there lurked something human. Sometimes correctness would be forgotten. In younger days he played the clarinet, and Dad would sometimes be called on to accompany him on the piano. On one occasion, after a long and demanding clarinet passage, he called on Dad to halt, with the remark: “My boy I am about to burst my phoo-phoo valve”.


Figure 12.6: Mr and Mrs Fothergill (“Uncle Fothergill” and “Auntie Polly”)

Uncle Fothergill was well read and he had a not inconsiderable library. He must have been told that I was a bookworm, which I was, and one day I was told he wanted me to call on him. I was not told why. I was petrified, but knew there was no escape. He began by questioning me about my reading. Doubtless he was disappointed wirth my tongue-tied and mumbled answers. At that time I was reading detectective and “wild west” novels and little else. Apparently he was not altogether discouraged, for he asked me to choose two volumes from his complete collection of Walter Scott. I suppose I must have mentioned Scott as a novelist I had read. I took “Ivanhoe”, which I had read, and “Peveril of the Peak”, which I hadn’t, but the title of which intrigued me. He added the invitation that, when I had read these, I was to call on him for more. I didn’t manage to read “Peveril” until almost 50 years later, and was too fearful ever to go back. Only several years later, when I was on vacation work with the Geological Survey in the Gisborne area, did I first come to enjoy Scott, cutting my real Scott teeth on “Woodstock”

When “Foggle” died there died one of the neighbourhood’s real characters.

12.3.4 Walter John Gore

Walter John Gore (“Jack” or “John”) [G.1., G.3] had seven children, five girls and two boys. Of these only two married. Gertrude (“Gert”) [G.3] the fourth child and middle girl, married William (“Bill” or sometimes “Will”) Talboys. They lived in Gourlay Street, Musselburgh, not many blocks from Walter John and family in Queens Drive. When I was a small boy they had a girl and a boy, Ray [G.3] and Billie [G.3], respectively four years older and two years younger than me. Ray was a moody child (and grew into a discontented adult), but Billie was cheerfully friendly. The Talboys sometimes visited Grandpa and Grandma Titchener when we were there, or more often would be at Auntie Kay’s when we called there on a Sunday afternoon on our way home from Grandpa and Grandma’s. Bill Talboys, the father, was never well - sleeping sickness we were told. He would sometimes walk round on his own to Grandpa and Grandma’s when we were there, would stay and talk for a short while, and then walk in a slow-paced way back to Gourlay Street. After he had gone there would be much tut-tutting and head-shaking about his state of health. “He doesn’t seem up to much, too good, too bright, etc, today.

The Talboys house, a brick bungalow, stood near the foot of an old quarry, and this cliff-face became Billie’s tragedy. He and a playmate had dug out a cave in the soft rock and one day it fell in on them. Billie was killed. He was about six years old. Some years later, miraculously everyone seemed to agree, another boy, Barry [G.3], was born to Gert and Bill.

Ray never married. She worked for many years in the library of the Dunedin Athanaeum. Barry married rather late in life, but had no children.

Of the two sons of Walter John only Leslie [G.3] married; but there were no children of this marriage to Edna Hardie [G.3]. I do not think Edna was much liked by Leslie’s sisters.

Auntie Kay’s household as I knew it as a small boy thus comprised, besides herself, by this time an old lady in her upper 60s, the four daughters [G.3], Dora, “Dill”, Ina, and Vera, and the unmarried son, “Mick” [G.3]. Mick was a hunchback, short and rather slight. He seemed to be always either setting or lighting the sitting room fire whenever we arrived. Auntie Kay would be sitting to the right of the fireplace. Mick had a very systematic way of arranging the kindling, stacking it in the form of a small “pig-sty”, before placing the coals on it. When I first had to light a fire it was his technique I consciously aped, and still do to this day. He was gently spoken, and kind to us boys. On one visit he produced and gave me several bound volumes of “Chums”. They were dated about 1911 or 1912. They gave me months and months of reading, and doubtless some of my schoolboy ideas about Britain and the Empire came from them. Mum told me that his hunch-back was the result of his being dropped from a table as a baby. When I asked Vera recently, she said he fell out of a tree as a small boy; and that no one noticed until too late that anything was wrong. Zeita gave the same account. He died in his 50s in 1939.

The four unmarried daughters, Dora, “Dill” (Ethel), Ina and Vera, lived on at the Queens Drive house until after the death of Mick and their mother, Kay. She died the year after Mick. Dill died shortly afterwards. Dora suffered a mental breakdown not long after, brought on, it was believed, by this close sequence of bereavements. She never recovered her sanity. Ironically she was for a while in Seacliff, which her grandfather and father had built. Later she was transferred to Sunnyside, out of Christchurch, where she died.

Vera was the one we children knew well. For one thing she was head of the Sunday School Gray and I went to at Holy Cross Church in St Kilda. For another, she and Mum were good friends. They were the same age and must have been together at Musselburgh Primary School in the period when Mum was there after her father had been transferred by Sargoods from Christchurch to Dunedin. She often came to our place for Sunday tea, even after we had moved from Calder Street, St Kilda to Beach Street, St Clair. She would often read a story to us boys in front of the sitting-room fire. Rudyard Kipling’s “Just So Stories” was a favourite and, after Gray had been given it as a birthday present, A. A. Milne’s “House at Pooh Corner”. I always looked forward to her visits and felt deflated on those Sundays when she didn’t come.


Figure 12.7: Walter John (“Jack”) Gore and family in their boat probably at Broad Bay. From the left: Vera, Ina, Gert, Walter John, Dill, Dora, Les

After Dill’s death and Dora’s mental collapse, Ina and Vera sold the Queens Drive house, which had become far too big for them, and went to live at Macandrew Bay on the Otago Peninsula, where Vera continued to live alone after Ina died

Walter John had died before I was born. I have never known how involved he was with his father, James, in the contracting business, or how involved in the brickworks at Wingatui. He was for 10 years Town Clerk of St Kilda Borough. He left this position on April 2, 1901. He was then only 45. Whether it was a part-time or honorary position I do not know. (His eldest brother Charles James, was for a time a Borough Councillor at St Kilda.) How well off he left his surviving wife and children when he died I do not know. Dora, Mick, and, so far as I know, Dill never worked. Ina and Vera were the household breadwinners, Ina as a secretary with the hardware firm, Briscoes, Vera as secretary to an accountant, Mr Taverner, who had an office near Cargill’s Corner. Walter John had a “crib” down the Otago Peninsula - at Broad Bay I believe - when his family were young. He owned a sequence of boats, and there is an old photograph in my possession of Walter John and his children in the family rowboat. A number of photos in an album that belonged to Ina and which Vera gave me a few years ago also show photos of holidays down the Peninsula. The crib must have been sold after Walter John died. When I once asked Mum why so few of the Gore girls had married, she said their mother had kept too strict a rein on them: “wouldn’t let them out of her sight” was her phrase. Walter John’s line will die out with his son Leslie and grandson Barry.

12.3.5 Elizabeth Ellen Gore

Elizabeth Ellen (“Hilty”) [G.1], the youngest of James’ daughters, married Hugh Titchener in 1886 [T.3, T.7a, 7b,7c]. Their son Cecil Gordon [T.7a] was my father. The nickname Hilty came from her attempted childhood pronunciation of Elizabeth. She was always called Hilty by all her contemporaries and by her many nieces and nephews.

I have written about her in the “Notes on the Titchener Trees”.

12.3.6 William Henry Gore

William Henry (“Willie”, “Bill”) [G.1, G.4] was the youngest child of James and Sarah Ann Gore. He was usually called Willie. In our immediate family he and his family were generally..referred to as “the Wingatui Gores”. Willie seems to have been the Gore most closely invoved in their brickworks. He had one son and two daughters. The son, Cecil James [G.4] had a large family, and many of them have married and had children. I do not know any of them. Of Willie’s two daughters, Ivy [G.4] married but had no children. Eva [G.4] never married. She lived all her life at Wingatui. She was over 90 when she died in 1981. Some of her childhood memories are encapsulated in a newspaper interview with her when she turned 90. Her 90th birthday was the occasion for a large gathering of her many cousins, nieces and nephews, and I have photographs taken at this gathering.