By Roselyn Fauth
Books on maritime history often reflect the man’s world... one of sailors, captains, shipwrecks, and rescue crews. I often wonder as a mother who were the women in these stories? Who were the wives waiting at windows. The mourners in black. Where they were advocates, fundraisers, and workers in the waves, maybe survivors? What were the stories of women on Timaru’s coast?
In May 1882, the port town of Timaru was gripped by grief and outrage. On Sunday 14 May, two ships the Benvenue and the City of Perth were wrecked near the Timaru harbour. The disaster became one of the most infamous maritime tragedies in the region’s history. Both vessels had attempted to anchor off the port, but heavy seas drove them ashore. In the chaos, a lifeboat was launched to rush to the rescue.
This image from the collections at Te Papa and Illustrated Australian News - Melbourne Vic -1876-1889 Saturday 10 June 1882, shows the wreck of the Benvenue Ship and the City of Perth which was later refloated.
Nine men died, including local volunteers who had risked their lives in the rescue effort. The public shock was profound. Timaru was a growing settlement in the 1880s, and the loss of life, struck the community.
What made the disaster even more bitter was the conversation that it might have been preventable. People accused the lifeboat used in the rescue, was old and known to be dangerous. Calls for proper harbour infrastructure had been voiced for years, but little had been done. Now, lives had been lost and the public, especially the women of Timaru, were speaking out.
Hacon's 1882 Lifeboat Letter
In May of 1882, the Timaru Herald published a letter written by E. A. Hacon of LeCren’s Terrace, Timaru. Her words came in the aftermath of a local maritime tragedy, when grief was fresh and a lifeboat had proven desperately inadequate. She called on the women of Timaru and South Canterbury to act. Drawing inspiration from Baroness Burdett-Coutts, an English philanthropist who funded lifeboats in Britain, the writer urged local women to step forward:
To the Editor of the Timaru Herald. published 17 May 1882
Sir,
Now that public feeling is everywhere enlisted on behalf of the sufferers from the late awful struggle between impotent men and the omnipotent sea — and feeling, as we all must have done through every moment of that dreadful scene, that the one prominent fact before all others was: We must have a new lifeboat and a steam tug —
Living all my English life near the sea, and having often seen the grand work done by brave men with the help of lifeboats given by the generosity of Baroness Burdett-Coutts and others, and having witnessed the frequent drills which perfected the men for lifeboat service on our coast — I say that we women of Timaru and South Canterbury, who can only look on helplessly through our tears at such a time, should unite at once (having relieved the present sufferers), and give all our energies, our time, all the money self-denial can lawfully allow us to spare — if needs be, our fingers to work — for the purpose of giving our port a thoroughly seaworthy lifeboat, with all the latest improvements and appliances for saving life.
Although those whose lives have been sacrificed have gone like noble men to a martyr’s rest, let us place our port beyond the reach of another such disgraceful fact — that a lifeboat should be sent to sea that for thirteen years has been known to carry men to their deaths!
What words shall express all we feel about such men as will man a boat like the one that capsized so often last Sunday? Fighting for dear life without having been invested with lifebelts or cork jackets — but only each thinking of saving another’s life?
I can do but little, but I will give £5 to start a subscription. And if the women of Timaru will join me, I will organise a working committee to enable us to devise a plan to give the port a boat that will — humanly speaking, and with God's help — save life.
Let our gentlemen look to the steam tug.
I am, &c.,
E. A. Hacon
LeCren’s Terrace, Timaru
16 May 1882”
AN APPEAL TO THE LADIES OF TIMARU AND SOUTH CANTERBURY. Timaru Herald, Volume XXXVI, Issue 2387, 17 May 1882, Page 3
There is no mistaking the tone: it is not sentimental but resolute. She is making a case for women’s moral authority and practical influence. If men were to risk their lives at sea, women would ensure they had the tools to survive. This moment captures something often lost in the history books, women who were not just mourning but were organisers, community leaders, and funders of progress.
Since its retirement in 1882 the lifeboat has been a memorial to those who manned it and those it rescued. Named after the wife of King Edward VII, Alexandra of Denmark, the Timaru lifeboat is one of the oldest vessels of its type in the world.
This painting shows a life that was led by the wealthiest in England at the time. A stark contrast to the emerging English colony in Timaru of the 1860s. In the center is the Baroness reffered to in Hacons letter. After reading this letter, I wondered who was Angela Burdett-Coutts? Was she involved in our Alexandra lifeboat?
Right: By Alfred Preston Tilt / Archibald Preston Tilt / Arthur Preston Tilt - wellcomeimages.org Collection gallery (2018-03-23): wellcomecollection.org/works/f5ppm5wp CC-BY-4.0, CC BY 4.0, commons.wikimedia.org
The Baroness and her connections to our lifesaving boat Alexandra
Baroness Angela Burdett-Coutts the woman cited in that 1882 letter doesn't appear to be an idle inspiration. She was one of the richest women in Victorian England, and she used her wealth to fund lifeboats, hospitals, and schools across the Empire. She blame known as “Queen of the Poor”, a mantle given to her as a result of her devoted commitment to good causes, earning respect from other social campaigners, such as the successful author and social commentator, Charles Dickens.
Born into a banking dynasty, she was the youngest of six children; her father Sir Francis Burdett, 5th Baronet MP was known for his radical ideas and her mother, Sophia Coutts, was the daughter of the well-known banker Thomas Coutts. Through these prominent social and political family connections she was able to meet a range of important people including the Prime Ministers Disraeli and Gladstone.
When her grandfather died in 1822, his estate was left to his second wife who died 14 years later. 23 year old Angela inherited the Coutts estate, a absolute fortune, including a 50% share of the bank, she became one of the wealthiest women in the land! While I was reading up about her I learned when aged 67, she married a William Lehman Ashmead Bartlett who was, like her father, a Member of Parliament. She must have got a few tails in a spin because he was just 29 years old. This was a scandal at the time, but despite this, Angela Burdett-Coutts was undeterred and focused on her plans, pouring her money into philanthropy, scholarships and charity sponsorships.
She funded so many things, including a water fountain so the poorest of London had access to clean water, and in the Irish Potato Famine she funded the supply of sugar, flour and corn. Missionaries, soldier’s wives and nurses working on the frontline also received donations from Burdett-Coutts.
One of these recipients was Florence Nightingale, who whilst working in the poor and unsanitary conditions of the Crimean War begged for assistance in improving hygiene standards. Burdett-Coutts helped fund army hospitals based in South Africa.
Baroness Angela Burdett-Coutts supported sea rescue efforts during the 1800s by directly funding the construction and donation of lifeboats to coastal communities in Britain. The Royal National Lifeboat Institution (RNLI) was the key organisation leading sea rescue efforts in Britain at the time.
Founded in 1824, the RNLI was the leading force behind the design, development, and manning of lifeboats across Britain. The RNLI promoted innovations such as self-righting lifeboats, lifejackets, and structured crew training. It relied heavily on philanthropic donations and local committees, so benefactors like Burdett-Coutts were crucial to expanding its reach, and since the charity launched its first lifeboat in 1824, the RNLI has saved more than 146,000 lives at sea.
Lionel Lukin a coachbuilder paved the way when he designed the world’s first unsinkable boat and patented it in 1785. Plan of 'Unmergeable' boat-in boat taken from his pamphlet. Photo: The British Library Board. Lukin incorporated pockets of air in watertight bulkheads (compartments), buoyant gunwales (top sides of the boat) and used cork and other lightweight materials in the structure. He also included a false iron keel for additional weight to help keep the boat upright.
Burdett-Coutts was helped fund lifeboats during the 1800s. In 1859, she presented the town of Margate with a 36-foot self-righting lifeboat named Angela and Hannah, equipped with sails and oars. This gift was reported in contemporary newspapers and is documented in the history of the Margate Lifeboat Station. The following year, in 1860, she funded a second lifeboat of the same name for the newly established lifeboat station at Silloth, a 30-foot self-righting vessel placed on station with the support of the local community, who contributed to the cost of its boathouse and carriage. These donations were part of Baroness Burdett-Coutts’s wider philanthropic legacy, which spanned housing, sanitation, education, and maritime safety, all aimed at improving the lives of the vulnerable across the British Empire.
Messrs Forrest of Limehouse life-boat building yard where Alexandra Timaru Lifeboat was built - The Illustrated London News Google Books - Page 478
It was this legacy that was referred in Hacons 1882 letter to the Timaru Herald. A lifeboat was used to rush to the rescue in the Benvenue and City of Perth disaster. The Alexandra was commissioned in 1862 in London by the Canterbury Provincial Council, named after Princess Alexandra of Denmark, and arrived to New Zealand aboard the Lady Bird in Timaru in 1863. The Canterbury Provincial Council was the local government for the Canterbury region from 1853 to 1876. It managed infrastructure, education, land, and public services across the province, including in growing towns like Timaru. In 1862, the Council commissioned the lifeboat Alexandra to improve maritime safety at the Timaru port. The provincial system was later abolished in 1876, with governance shifting to central government control. Hacon invoked the example of Baroness Burdett-Coutts to encourage people in Timaru and South Canterbury to organise and fundraise for a new, modern lifeboat.
Here, across on the other side of ocean, an English noblewoman’s generosity was used to call the community to action on a South Canterbury shore. It is easy to imagine the women of Timaru seeing her not as a distant figure, but as a model.
“After my mother, she is the most remarkable woman in the kingdom”. This was how King Edward VII described Angela Burdett-Coutts, an outspoken and dedicated philanthropist, who helped to found both the NSPCC and RSPCA, as well as funding countless other humanitarian causes…
Despite this call to action in the newspaper, Timaru did not acquire a new lifeboat immediately following the 1882 disaster. The Alexandra continued to serve as the primary rescue vessel until it was eventually retired in 1885. Subsequently, the lifeboat was preserved and has since become a significant historical artifact, symbolizing the bravery and resilience of those involved in maritime rescues during that era.
I can imagine through grief there was so much anger. Pointing fingers to find people to blame and hold to account. Captain Alexander Mills, the harbourmaster, who died from exhaustion after the rescue attempts beared the brunt of this outcry. But I really feel for him. I can see how he was caught between the push and pull of politics of the port and safeguarding the safety of crew, cargo and vessels. He had so much pressure put on him, and I believe in the thick of it, he felt he had to try and save the City of Perth. That call put men back in the ocean. There were plenty of stone throwing, from blaming the boat, and then Mills. But the ultimate person hurt out of this was the wife he left behind, Margaret (née Sinclair), left to raise her seven children (four sons and three daughters). in the aftermath of the disaster. I hope she received the community's support, as it would have been crucial for families like the Mills during this period of mourning and adjustment.
Left: Angela Georgina Burdett-Coutts, Baroness Burdett-Coutts Wikimedia. Center: By Sir William Ross - National Portrait Gallery, Public Domain, wikimedia.org/26280357 Right: Miss Burdett Coutts between 1859 and 1870. Boston Public LibraryWikimedia
By Bain News Service, publisher - Library of Congress https://cdn.loc.gov/service/pnp/ggbain/09000/09012v.jpgOriginal Public Domain
Thomas Benjamin Kennington (1856–1916) was a British painter best known for his poignant portrayals of poverty, social injustice, and everyday working-class life in late Victorian and Edwardian England. He was associated with the social realism movement and produced works such as Homeless, Widowed and Fatherless, and The Pinch of Poverty, which depicted women and children in distress with emotional intensity and dignity. Kennington was married and had children, and many of his most powerful works center on mothers and children. His art suggests to me that he had deeply personal empathy with family life, maternal struggles, and child welfare, maybe inspired by his wife who wa probably the central woman in his domestic life. His art is sensitive to the hardships women endured, especially in motherhood and poverty.
Left: One of his paintings is in the Timaru's Aigantighe Art Gallery: The Mother, 1895, oil on canvas, Aigantighe Art Gallery Collection, 1956.37.Right: Thomas Benjamin Kennington (1856-1916)-‘homeless’-oil on canvas Victoria (Australia)-Bendigo Art Gallery.
Following the shipwrecks of the Benvenue and City of Perth on 14 May 1882 known locally as "Black Sunday", the community rallied to support the families of the nine men who lost their lives during the rescue efforts.
One notable initiative was a benefit concert organised by Herr Ludwig Mosch, a local musician. Held at the Garrison Hall in June 1882, the event featured vocal and instrumental performances and was well attended despite inclement weather. The concert raised a substantial sum for the relief fund, demonstrating the community's commitment to supporting the bereaved families.
In addition to fundraising efforts, a memorial was erected to honour the bravery and sacrifice of those involved in the rescue attempts. Known as the Wrecks Monument, it was funded by public subscription and completed in 1885. The monument features inscriptions detailing the events of the disaster and lists the names of the deceased, serving as a lasting tribute to their heroism.
Crowds assembled at the Benvenue Wreck Memorial, Timaru, for the 50th jubilee of the event in May 1932. The crowd appears to be being addressed by dignitaries from on the lifeboat 'Alexandra'. Handwritten on verso "14th May Jubilee 1932" - South Canterbury Museum
The Coronation Procession Timaru. Heroes of the Wrecks. Unused picture postcard featuring the lifeboat Alexandra entitled "The Coronation Procession Timaru. Heroes of the Wrecks", dated 22 June 1911. Features the lifeboat being drawn by a four-horse team on Craigie Avenue, Timaru, turning onto North Street. WF No3 South Canterbury Museum timdc.pastperfectonline.com/852999445251
The reports of the collective actions of the community help us reflect today, on the the deep solidarity and compassion, ensuring that the sacrifices made on that horrendous day were not forgotten nor in vain.
We often forget how dangerous coastal travel was. Their survival stories and voices shaped public memory of wrecks and rescues. I can't wait to see the boat back at the bay, so stories like this can live on.
Timaru’s Caroline Bay used to be known as the Riviera of the South. A wide, sandy beach, it was where Cantabrians would flock (by train) to swim, sunbathe and attend carnivals and concerts. Though it doesn’t quite draw the crowds of ‘Riviera’ times these days, it’s still a beautiful bay, enjoyed by Timaru locals. But it wasn’t always a place of peace, nor of fine golden sand. Rather, Caroline Bay was a place of heaving southerly swells and many a shipwreck. According to Timaru researcher Roselyn Fauth, the story is a good one - and she’s helping plan a new playground to pay tribute to it. Episode first screened in 2022. A Frank Film with Roselyn Fauth
https://frankfilm.co.nz/frank-changing-south/changing-south-season-4-2022/timarus-caroline-bay-remembering-a-stormy-history/
When the Sea Rose Up: The Tragedy That Changed Caroline Bay
In the late 1800s, Timaru’s harbour was a place of both opportunity and danger. As trade increased, so did the debate: should ships anchor close to shore for quicker unloading, or further out where the swell posed less risk? At the centre of this tension was Captain Alexander Mills, harbourmaster for sixteen years. He carried not only the responsibility for safe moorings, but for the lives of every sailor and every rescuer when the sea turned wild.
Timaru’s Rocket Brigade formed the frontline of rescue. When a ship was in distress, they fired a line from the shore and sent out a pair of canvas “rescue pants” on a pulley system. Sailors would climb in, one at a time, and be hauled back through the surf. It was a dramatic and dangerous operation, carried out by men whose names are mostly lost to history.
In 1878, construction began on a breakwater to protect the port. Government engineer John Blackett warned it would alter the coastline permanently. He was right. Caroline Bay, once a rocky headland, gradually transformed into a wide sandy beach. The lagoon behind it was cut off from sediment flow and now only a small portion remains. Despite these warnings, locals were determined. In protest, they paraded an effigy of Blackett through the town, carried it to the end of the new breakwater, and set it alight with fireworks.
The breakwater went ahead. Steamships gained better moorings, but sailing ships were still forced to anchor dangerously close to shore. On 14 May 1882, a powerful swell struck the coast. The Benvenue broke loose from her anchor and was wrecked against the rocks. Her crew managed to escape to the City of Perth, but that vessel also drifted and was wrecked. The old lifeboat Alexandra, neglected for years, capsized during the rescue. Nine men died, including Captain Mills.
Stories Resurfacing
While the infrastructure and rescues were led by men, the stories of Caroline Bay have often been preserved and reimagined by women. In recent years, Timaru-based researcher and storyteller Roselyn Fauth worked with Frank Film to create a short feature on the 1882 disaster. Her project explored not just the wrecks and rescue attempts, but the emotional impact on the community, including the widows left behind.
That storytelling helped spark a new vision for the bay. Under the banner of CPlay, Roselyn joined a volunteer team working to redesign the playground at Caroline Bay. The design draws directly from this history. It features a lighthouse, a buried Benvenue, a Rocket Brigade flying fox, and inclusive play elements that connect children to the stories under their feet.
From Wreckage to Play
The sea once tore ships from their anchors here. Today, it inspires something else. At the edge of Caroline Bay, children climb, swing, and imagine. The past is no longer forgotten. It has been turned into movement, learning, and joy.
Thanks to the work of volunteers, researchers, and community storytellers, the legacies of Timaru’s shipwrecks and sea rescues are being remembered in a way that is both grounded in place and full of life.
From wreckage to play, the story carries on.
https://youtu.be/PRz-c_wGYso?si=DTHR-w3WN3eZWUvC
The wrecks at Timaru, New Zealand: Lifeboats rescuing sailors in heavy surf, one life boat named City of Perth. . Wood engraving by Ashton, Julian Rossi, 1851-1942 slv.vic.gov.au/permalink/f/1cl35st/SLV_ROSETTAIE670476
The Alexandra lilfe boat was paraded during the Jubilee Procession held in Timaru on 13 July 1928, marking 50 years since the granting of self-government to New Zealand in 1878. The film of the event, presented by F.H. Drewitt, shows the lifeboat as part of the grand parade, accompanied by horse-drawn buggies, school children in uniform, brass bands, and floats marking the march of time from 1903 to 1928. Dominion Motors featured alongside the fire brigade, whose engine bore the words “Always Ready” while smoke trailed from its ladder. Biplanes passed overhead. Crowds lined the streets and spilled out at the close. It was a day to celebrate national pride and local service—and to remember the symbols that connected the town to a wider world.
Queen Alexandra, the Lifeboat, and a Civic Square: Tracing Timaru’s Royal Connections
Invitation, 1901, New Zealand, by Benoni William Lytton White, A.D. Willis Ltd. Purchased 2001. Te Papa (GH009568)
Colour postcard entitled "Alexandra Square, Timaru", circa 1910. Features the band rotunda gifted by Charles Bowker in 1903 in the foreground, with the James Bruce & Co. (or Timaru Milling Co.) flour mill on High Street in the left background. Both the reserve and the life boat were named after British Royal.
Timaru Herald. 13 July 1928 Page 9 (Supplement). paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/.../timar.../1928/07/13/25