James Hayter JACKSON is reputed to have arrived in New Zealand in 1829, where he was the first mate for the first shore whaling station in New Zealand. Family history has it that he was build a boat in New Zealand, large enough to trade to Australia and is said to have given shelter to Te Rauparaha after the Wairau Massacre. He also established and ran his own whaling station at Jackson's Bay, Tory Channel.
JAMES is assumed to have been born 24 November 1800 in Putney, England, and died 2 August 1877 in Picton, New Zealand. He married ELIZA ROIL 19 February 1843 in Nelson, daughter of Thomas Roil and SARAH SEWRY. She was born 26 May 1826 in Alton, Hampshire, England, and died 3 July 1910 in Picton, New Zealand.
An ongoing Jackson Family Tree is maintained by John SYMONS, who compiled the genealogical data for the Family Reunion book & CD, "Jacksons of Te Awaiti" by Carol Dawber.For all enquiries to John, use the "Contact" page
A PERSPECTIVE ON JAMES HAYTER JACKSON, HIS DESCENDANTS AND JACKSONS BAY
EXCERPTS TAKEN FROM AN ARTICLE “MY HOME TOWN”, “A PICTON PAST” BY FAY ROBIN PUBLISHED in NORTH AND SOUTH” MAGAZINE, MAY, 1998
“One of my ancestors was the redoubtable Jimmy Jackson, written up in the Old Marlborough history book and whose spasmodic residence dates back beyond the famous – and infamous – Wakefield’s. He had a vessel that plied the coastline of New Zealand and had more than a passing acquaintance with the now celebrated whalers who frequented these shores. He admired Napoleon and kept a daily diary. Meagre historical fact, but treasured beyond gold by his descendants.
I came across Jimmy quite by accident, when I was researching the Tory Channel area. Suddenly, there he was, looming as large in print as he ever had in life. The sort of ancestor who would cause you to writhe with embarrassment if he were alive in your own personal community today, but who from a distance of several generations appears delightfully vibrant. Rather like a character from Robert Louis Stevenson, but with the difference that he was mine and he had once been real.
I discovered his grave was in a pretty little bay in Tory Channel, so several years latter when visiting Picton for a family reunion, I hired a launch and with two of my adult children and a young grandson, I visited Jacksons Bay. I thought I would be overwhelmed, maybe even struck speechless, when standing within a couple of feet of this distinctive ancestor, but the earth didn’t move, the heavens didn’t open and it all felt rather prosaic. His wife Elizabeth slept beside him. Probably more quietly than she had done in real life. He was a formidable male chauvinist, even for his own times and rumour has it that he wanted a subservient wife – or else. He should have kept his mouth shut. Elizabeth was considerable younger, considerably more stubborn and consistently more stoic than him, so when he was bedridden for the latter part of his life and she became his reluctant nurse, he got what is known in today’s parlance as his come-uppance
Their grave was fenced in, just a small plot overlooking the unpredictable Tory Channel and nestling alongside a winding tree lined path near where their first house had once stood. As I looked down on his concrete bed, I thought that if I had the power to bring back just one of the dead, then I’d like to revive old Jimmy Jackson. If family history has not been corrupted for the sake of impressing younger generations, then he and Elizabeth were the first white couple to live at Picton. If I am wrong, I don’t want to know. I like all the stories I have been told and the fact that some of them may have been embellished over the years is totally irrelevant
Their daughter, Annie Bragg who is my great-grandmother, seems to have inherited a lot of her father’s genes and was not above locking recalcitrant grand-children in a cupboard for the duration of their daytime visit in they annoyed her. Youthful renegade grandsons occasionally tested her reputation, but they only tried it once. A Cupboards in the late 1800’s was a dank and rather terrifying place when the key was turned resolutely in the lock And if you wanted to go to the toilet, it had better not be in that particular cupboard. She, like her father was of generous proportions and intimidated all who visited. Her husband was considered “weak” and therefore much preferred by younger members of the family
Article posted by kind permission 29/6/2011 from “North & South” magazine, (A division of ACP Media LTD)