Politicians were more entertaining in the old days and thanks to a new book which came in my Christmas stocking, I now know something of one of our great political characters.
Along the way, his independence and dedication to the needs of his Central Otago constituents made him a politician the province can be proud of.
As a writer he produced novels still worth reading and his history of the Otago goldfields is probably still the best coverage of the subject.
Vincent Pyke: Goldfields Gladiator includes the eccentricities of his character, which were well remembered, usually fondly, by those who knew him.
He lived in boisterous times when even minor points were sorted out in the law courts, when arguments were settled by fisticuffs and the darker days lightened by a few drinks. It was the last of these which marked the Pyke image, but recourse to alcohol, usually in the cause of conviviality, was not uncommon among public men of the day.
Indeed, Pyke’s immediate predecessor as MP for Wakatipu, Henry Manders, a noted eccentric, eventually drank himself to death.
A story was told of Pyke and Sir George Grey having a discussion in Bellamy’s, the parliamentary bar. Pyke was grumbling about his advancing years and quenching a powerful thirst meanwhile.
"You know, I have gone through a lot in my time, Sir George," said Pyke.
Grey gave a meaningful glance at the other veteran’s empty glass, and quavered: "It isn’t what you have gone through, Pyke, so much as what has gone through you."
It was no secret that Vincent Pyke enjoyed a drink. Cartoonists almost always caricatured him with a swollen red nose but an Auckland "electioneering agent", William Hodge, went too far in a public address to a crowded Temperance Hall in Auckland.
He mentioned one member "who appeared in an advanced state of inebriety" and, when pressed for a name, said the member was Vincent Pyke.
Some newspapers published reports of the meeting and Pyke was incensed. He at once claimed £600 ($160,000 in 2026) damages and the papers swiftly apologised.
During the discussion of the Local Option Bill, Pyke placed his notes in order and called out: "Messenger, bring me a glass of water." Members roared with laughter and, when he claimed to be speaking from experience when the number of drunks being arrested was mentioned, there was more laughter.
Pyke quickly added: "When I speak from experience, of course I mean as a magistrate."
Fondness for alcohol aside, Pyke was noted for his literary knowledge.
His love of language is seen in something of a rough paraphrase of a verse in the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam ("And this delightful Herb whose tender Green Fledges the River’s Lip on which we lean"). When he discovered Jewish-born Julius Vogel helping himself to an enormous plateful of lettuce salad he murmured "Lo, on the green and tender herb / The gentle Jew descends".
When Californian thistle began to appear in New Zealand, Pyke happened upon the minister of lands inspecting a bundle of the plant which had been sent for his comments and the minister was sniffing the plants closely.
"Very sorry," said Pyke, "I didn’t know you were at lunch."
Pyke’s biblical knowledge was renowned, and a member met him in the lobby after he had successfully engineered for the Otago Central line to be built and asked: "How did you manage it, Pyke?"
"Oh," said Pyke, "I have no time to talk to you. Corinthians 9:26."
The member found a Bible and sought out the passage: "So fight not I as one that beateth the air!"
Russell Garbutt has produced a fine biography and readers of Vincent Pyke: Goldfields Gladiator will learn a great deal more about Vincent Pyke and 19th century Otago. They will, as I have, grow rather fond of Vincent Pyke, not only as a man who got things done but as a genuine character, faults and all.
Pyke’s friend, poet Thomas Bracken, deserves the last word.
In a tribute at Pyke’s passing, he wrote:
Faultless? No. No! I hate your faultless men;
His faults and follies now are, with him, dead;
A brilliant brain, and an expansive pen;
And yet his heart was bigger than his head.
— Jim Sullivan is a Patearoa writer.
