Biography

John Hamilton, an early Dunedin poet and foundation member of the Burns Club, is commemorated with a Writers Trail plaque in the Octagon. Born in Scotland in 1827, John was one of thirteen children. His father was a poor weaver in Paisley. Apart from seven months of elementary school he was entirely self-educated. He left home at sixteen and soon gave evidence of the determination, energy, and enterprise by which he raised himself out of the poverty he was born into. At the age of 52 when he arrived in Dunedin for the first time he had been a foreman, factory owner, commercial traveller, photographer, and property developer; but, like many others, he had been ruined financially in the crash of the City of Glasgow Bank.

In New Zealand John worked as a travelling bookseller and railway publicist. At first he prospered, but when he returned to Scotland in an attempt to reunite his family he encountered more misfortune. He became entangled in a disastrous lawsuit and was forced to return to New Zealand “alone, without money, and without friends” in 1885.

Even at the age of 58, John was not the man to give way. Starting with nothing, by the end of his life he owned a house in Moray Place and could contribute £100 towards building a hall. He was one of the founders of the Dunedin Burns Club and published his own poems in a book entitled The Lay of the Bogle Stone. It was said after he died that “he was a born Bohemian, possessed of that indefinable something which distinguished men of genius from the common herd. He had the courage of his opinions, and never denied to others what he claimed for himself-the right of private judgment. As a man he was courageous and self-reliant. An index of his character was afforded by the legend above his door-‘Laboro (I work away), Spero (I hope on), Exspecto’ (I wait with patience for my reward).”

For more than a hundred years after his death John Hamilton’s grave remained unmarked, until on 27th April 1995 a stone bearing the inscription “Laboro, Spero, Exspecto” was unveiled by his great-granddaughter Joyce Ryan. Several members of the Burns Club, including the current president, were present.

John left an account of his own life in the Brief Autobiography which he wrote to introduce The Lay of the Bogle Stone:

“The writer of this little book was born at Paisley, Scotland, on the 7th of May, 1827, of poor but respected parents. His father was a weaver, and during the first twenty years of their married life they succeeded in bringing into the world thirteen children of whom the writer is one. The majority of them died young, and at the present time, three only exist. Then, as now, it was much easier to get a lot of children than to keep them properly, with the result that only the hardy ones survive.

“There was no free education in those days, but as my mother had an idea that she would like to have a son a minister, I was fortunate in getting seven months of a private school at twopence-halfpenny a week, and during that time I became a fair reader and writer; in fact my religious mother said I was a prodigy, and my twopence-halfpenny schoolmaster agreed with her, and advised that I should be sent to a higher school. But, stern necessity decreed otherwise, and before I had finished my seventh year I was set to work as a drawboy, and so for the next seven years I had to work from six in the morning till ten at night, poorly fed, and poorly clothed. I have heard people saying or singing “who would not be a boy again?” but I look back upon my boyhood with horror. During those years the only pocket money I had was twopence or threepence on a Saturday, and whatever I could steal from my mother; and being rather ingenious, I succeeded pretty well in that respect, and this money was spent in penny Shows, (at this period Richard the Third, or any of Shakespeare’s tragedies, including a farce was played for a penny,) and hiring books from a circulating library, all my spare time being devoted to reading.

“I began with books of adventure, then stage plays, then novels, then every book I could lay my hands on. During all this time my mother was doing her best to prevent me reading anything but religious books. Now, as what is called infidel books has the word “God,” in them as often as religious books, I had only to point to that word to satisfy her that I was reading the right book, so that when I came to my fourteenth year, with what I had read and seen, I became dissatisfied with my condition and would brook no control. For the next two years I led a Bohemian life, working or not as I thought proper. But working or not no time was lost in idleness, I kept pegging away at reading and private theatricals.

“The reason I don’t mention my father, is, because he left Paisley for a situation in Greenock, and my mother had to manage the family which was now reduced to three, the best way she could. Well, my poor mother thought I was on the high road to ruin, and my religious grandmother prophesied I would be hanged; and it was settled that if I did not mend my ways I must leave the house, and I did leave the paternal, or rather the maternal roof when I was just sixteen years. Now, I says, I will just let mother and all interested see that I am somebody, and pride gave me an immense lift in this direction. Being young and strong, I had no difficulty in finding employment, and I stuck to it. At first my wage was only eight shillings per week, but this was supplemented by overtime and various ways. In three years I was master of the work I was engaged in, and before I had completed my twentieth year, I was foreman over ten men.

“During these years I paid my mother most of the money I had cribbed from her. She was now proud of her son, and my grandmother cancelled the prophecy that I would be hanged. Of course that was brought about after giving her a series of parcels of tea, sugar, etc. Well, during the next three years I was working hard, and yet I never lost a day with drinking, for I could always find enough spare time to spend all the spare money I had, and notwithstanding the smallness of my wage I contrived to save as much money as start a small Weaver’s Factory of four looms, and get married before I was out of my twenty-third year, but dull trade came, and I had to give up the manufacturing business and return to my old charge.

“At this I continued for another year, when becoming discontented and thinking I was qualified for better things I threw it up, resolving that for the future I should be my own employer, and I have kept my resolve.

“Hearing that a Traveller was wanted on commission by a big House in Edinburgh, and confident of my own ability, I lost no time in rigging myself out and started for the City, made arrangements, and for the next eight years was travelling over the three Kingdoms as Agent for three of the largest firms in Edinburgh.
“When I look back upon this period of my life, I marvel at the ease with which I made money, and how easily it went: and, although I say it myself, I was reckoned the most successful Traveller on the road, in the line I was in.

“To recite all the incidents in which I was a prominent figure during these years would fill a dozen volumes, but I must hurry on.

“I was now in my thirty-third year, and my wife had multiplied herself by five, so that I was now a family man, and my better-half never ceased nagging me to settle at home; so with what I had saved I started a bigger business than my capital warranted, and in this I struggled for two years, when I gave it up, and with the wreck started as a Photographer. In this I was determined I should succeed, and I made a vow that I wouldn’t sit down to eat or drink until I had surmounted every difficulty; and for two years everything I ate or drank was standing on my feet.

“By that time my place was a paradise, and I had a set of faithful workers. I continued in this business for eight years, and although I did not make so much money as in my travelling experience, I saved much more; for I was so much engaged, I had no time to spend it.

“This was the happiest period of my life, but it seems we are never so likely to go wrong as when we are well-off. For at this time I took it into my head that I should like to be a Builder, so, I sold off my beautiful place, bought some ground, and started building, and for the next eight years I laboured harder than ever I did with the view of soon settling down and living on the rents of my properties.

“I built the “Bogle-Stone Castle; a Theatre; and a range of Dwelling Houses, but alas! I was reckoning without my host, for the City of Glasgow Bank crash came, and I was one among thousands of sufferers from that event; some of whom went to their graves, some to lunatic Asylums, but I elected to seek a new home in the further parts of the earth, and I came to New Zealand resolved to turn to the best account what remained of my life, and if possible forget the scene of my late disaster.

“So, I arrived in Dunedin on August, 1879, and started as a travelling Bookseller, a business I was well acquainted with; and if my little book has anything like a circulation in Otago, many of its readers will remember the Old Gent with the “Baggie of Books.”

“I continued at this work for a year successfully, when I made arrangements to fix up all the advertisements on all the Stations on the South Island Railway Lines. This work engaged me for another year, by which time I had saved about £300, besides sending £5 a month to my family during all my absence from home.

“Well, with the money I had saved I went home in ’82, with the intention of trying to induce my family to return with me to Dunedin; but they would not. Instead, a new disaster awaited me, for I got inveigled in a law suit with “General Booth,” about a lease of my Theatre which lasted nine months, and ended in my having the worst of it.

“This was another sad blow to me, and it was with some difficulty I managed to save as much out of the wreck as pay for a steerage passage for myself back to Dunedin, where I arrived in July, 1885, alone, without money, and without friends. Starting in a small way in the Octagon, with no capital, but with a good stock of self-reliance, I have kept pegging away at work, until, I have single-handed succeeded in making a little money and building the “Boglestone House,” Moray Place, which I now look upon as my home.

“It has taken me over six years hard work to accomplish this, and I should not lose this opportunity of thanking the people of Dunedin for their great kindness to me from first to last. I have certainly tried to gain their good-will, but I am grateful enough to think that they have treated me better than I deserved, and that I am much their debtor.

“It will be gathered from what I have said that I never was troubled with religious fads-or, indeed, with any other fads. I may have my fancies, but I put my greatest faith in facts. From my youth upwards I have been surrounded with religious people and religious influences, but I never caught the infection in the slightest degree, and yet I am very fond of truly religious people. It is the quacks only I am opposed to.

“Such is a brief outline of the 65 years of my life. What the rest of it may be I cannot tell. I suppose it will be chequered like the past. I have always been trying to do my best, and I don’t suppose I can do better; although I am conscious of having committed a great many blunders; for while I was trying to do good, evil was always present with me.

“As it is, I have weathered the storms of life much better than the great majority of my fellows. I have thought and acted according to my light, all the rest I trust to my Creator.”