Histories

Mr. Edward John Von Dadelszen, the Registrar-General and Statistical Officer, was born in Liverpool, England, in 1845, and educated there by the celebrated Dr. Ihne. In 1859 he passed the Oxford middle class examination for juniors, find shortly afterwards left for Auckland per ship “Red Jacket” with Mr. (afterwards Sir) John Gorst. His first situation was with Bishop Selwyn, who employed him on printing works for the Melanesian mission.
In 1862 Mr. Gorst was appointed Civil Commissioner for the Waikato, and sent up to Te Awamutu. His duties included the management of an industrial school for the education of Maori youths, by influencing whom, and in various other ways, it was proposed to introduce into Waikato the thin end of the wedge of civilization, and gradually to destroy the effect of what was known as the “King Movement.” Sir George Grey, speaking at Ngaruawahia, and pointing to the king flagstaff, had declared that he would not cut it down, but would dig round it till it fell of itself. The Te Awamutu institution, said an important chief, is one of the Governor's spades.
At this time, the King Movement was at its height. There was a Maori Parliament, with all the accessories for self-government, including an official organ called the Hokioi—the name of a Maori mythological bird of great ferocity. It was part of Mr. Gorst's method to direct attention to the evils of the King Movement, and an opposition newspaper was therefore started named the Pihoihoi—Maori for the insignificant though destructive little sparrow. Mr. Gorst employed his young friend Von Dadelszen in the capacities of printer and publisher.
The Commissioner and his factotum were personally very popular with the Kingites. The school was doing good work; but the little upstart Pihoihoi was more than a match for the Hokioi. That a “sparrow” should be set up to fight the gigantic and terrible “hokioi” was in itself an insult; but when it began to win in the contest, and to decry what the Maoris esteemed, they could stand it no more.
Returning one evening to his head-quarters, Mr. Gorst found his printing-office seized, and his staff prisoners. The natives stated they had no wish to kill their pakeha friends; but that they were determined no further issues of the Pihoihoi should make their appearance, the best plan of preventing this being to seize the type and appliances, and to drive the Civil Commissioner out of the King Country. Mr. Gorst declined resolutely to be expelled, saying that he had been sent there by the Governor and he would stay until recalled by the same authority,—“the Governor will not allow me to be made food for your patu.” It is possible that taking this course saved the lives of the Commissioner and his men. One of their number was allowed to ride to Auckland with despatches and a message from the Maoris that unless the pakehas were withdrawn within the time mentioned “the bottles would all be broken,” the word “bottles” being delicately used instead of “heads.” Communication with Auckland was a matter of difficulty in those days of no roads and devious tracks, and if it required but little bravery on the part of the messenger to ride away with the despatches, some pluck was needed for the return journey, with only the assurance of a disaffected tribe that all the “bottles” but his own would not be broken before he should arrive. The Maoris were, however, true to their promise. The Commissioner and his company were allowed to get clear of the King Country; but no sooner were they away than the war with the Waikatos began.
That this good work among the Natives should have been so suddenly cut off was most unfortunate. The objects of its founders were to civilise the rising generation, and train the young men to useful arts. “The prosecution of these objects,” said Sir Dillon Bell, in his memorandum to Sir George Grey, “was confided to a man (Gorst) who, to a real interest in the Native people, united peculiar abilities for the task; willingly relinquishing the advantages which private fortune gave him in a country where wealth is so easily accumulated, and content, a Master of Arts of Cambridge University, to live in the bush, almost without society, and without books, for the sake of laying the foundation for a few poor Native boys of a school that should replace the indolence and dirt of a ‘pa’ by the industry, discipline, and comfort of a civilised home. The boys who came to the school were fed and clothed in the most liberal manner; they were provided with separate sleeping places, and with many other conveniences which were for the first time known in Native schools; no limit was placed on the discretion of the Commissioner in this matter; and even those Native chiefs who suppressed the school were loud in the praises of the mode in which it had been conducted. Besides the ordinary instruction in reading, writing, arithmetic, and English, each boy worked for six hours daily at some industrial pursuit, under European superintendence. At the time when the school was suppressed, the following trades were in full operation:— Farming, printing, carpentering, shoemaking, tailoring, and blacksmiths' work. The last three trades were carried on for the benefit of the neighbourhood. At the breaking up of the establishment, there were orders for fifty pairs of boots, at which the shoemaker and three Native boys were working, all of which would have been paid for by European and Native neighbours; both the tailor and the blacksmith had as much work as could be got through. The Awamutu establishment was a ready market for the surplus produce of Kihikihi and Rangiawhia Natives. Twenty-two Native boys were under instruction, and several applications for admission had been refused until the new buildings which were being erected increased the accommodation. The extent to which discipline and esprit de corps had been established amongst them may be estimated by the fact that, from the day of the outrage until the school was finally broken up, a period of four weeks, not a single boy had deserted, and that all with the exception of one Ngatimaniapoto, expressed their desire to go to Auckland, or to any other place to which the school might be removed.” Mr. Von Dadelszen, though so young, took a very active part in this Native school. His name occurs frequently in the despatches. It seems very probable that had the Pihoihoi not been published, the good work of Mr. Gorst and his coadjutors would not have been brought to such an abrupt conclusion.
On returning to Auckland, Mr. Von Dadelszen lived at Sir George Grey's island home, the Kawau, for about three months with other refugees. After this he joined the post-office at Auckland as clerk, remaining in this service till September, 1864, when he entered the Registrar-General's Department.
In 1880 Mr. Von Dadelszen was promoted to the Chief Clerkship, and four years later he was appointed Deputy-Registrar-General. In February, 1890, he was selected by the Government as delegate to the Conference of Australasian Statisticians held at Hobart in March of that year to consider questions in reference to the Census. He was raised to his present important office on the 1st of May, 1892.
The subject of this notice was married in 1876 to Miss Lotze, daughter of Mr. William Lotz, of Sydney. His family numbers four, one son and three daughters. Cyclopedia of New Zealand 1897