Hanging the Mayor

There's been a bit of confusion over the provenance of the Mayoral portrait Gallery now gracing Council, so we thought we'd set the record straight and at the same time look at an interesting piece of Wanganui history which resonates down the ages to the present day.
Our understanding is that none of the Mayoral portraits were hanging in the chamber, or anywhere for that matter, till the Diva had them all printed up and framed and put there early this year. This is confirmed by Council's 4 April Minutes which state that:

This year the Chamber has been enhanced with the installation of 25 portraits of former Wanganui Mayors and the Peter McIntyre painting 'Wanganui. Mayor Laws also proposes that funding be provided for the commissioning of an artwork to tell the story of Wanganui, within the Council Chamber, and that funding be provided for the commissioning of a carved Maori entranceway to the entrance of the Chamber.

The addition of the sitting Mayor was a more recent event. The work apparently was done by the museum and a councillor (Watchers cannot recall which one) once asked how much it cost. The answer was that "it had been done by the museum". Said councillor then pointed out that there would be an internal cost, but the matter was never heard of again. But the same Minutes do provide some information on the cost of other alterations to the building:

• $40,300 for enlarging Committee Room 2 improving access by removing the wall between it and the adjoining office. Some additional work for sound proofing, lighting and new carpeting.
• $33,700 for further developing the Council Chamber "as a formal and official reception facility available for civic functions" and, intriguigly, to remove "raised floor and benches and the media booth to be developed as a servery". We can't wait to see Sean Hoskins in a pinny, serving the sausage rolls. At last, a worthwhile function for Chron staff attending Council meetings, since reporting what actually goes on doesn't seem to be on their agenda.

Those Watchers who know the story of one former member of the great and the good gracing the Council's walls, one Charles Mackay, were delighted to see him in the line up. Many a joke is made in the bleachers at council meetings about what a wonderful precedent it is that at least one mayor has already been sent away for a bit of hard labour.

Mackay was young, having been elected to the Wanganui Borough Council aged 30, and to the Mayoralty a year later. He was also regarded as clever, having gained a BA at the age of 19 and an LLB six years later. And he had a bit of a problem with a few members of the local artistic fraternity, one of whom (a young poet by the name of D'Arcy Cresswell) he shot:

It was then that Mackay invited Cresswell to visit the Sarjeant Art Gallery privately with him on the Friday. As a founder of the gallery, Mackay had his own key, and inevitably they must have spent time at the gallery's pride and joy, its marble reproduction of the ancient Greek nude "Wrestlers". Mackay took Cresswell back to his office, and showed him his collection of (female) nude photographs.

What exactly happened then is shrouded in Cresswell's self-serving account (signed by Mackay), but Cresswell demanded that Mackay resign as Mayor, or else be exposed as a "pervert"... At half past nine on the Saturday morning, in Mackay's office, Cresswell gave Mackay a week. Mackay pleaded for hours, threatened suicide, begged Cresswell to spare his family. Cresswell forced him to write a confession, then, after further bargaining, a letter of resignation to be held in safe keeping for a month. They turned to leave. "This is for you!" shouted Mackay, and shot Cresswell in the chest. Then he put the revolver in Cresswell's hand to give the appearance of suicide.

While we haven't seen the Diva waving any artillery around, there are other fascinating parallels with the present. Yes, even airborne furniture:

As he was leaving, the "dying" man rose and pointed the revolver at him. Mackay slammed a door between them. Cresswell could not open it, so he flung a chair through the window and called for help.

Mackay claimed the revolver had fired accidentally when he was showing it to Cresswell, but the chair through the window meant even the local police could see through that story.
Mackay eventually pleaded guilty to attempted murder and was sentenced to 15 years hard labour. He served seven, during which he was declared bankrupt and divorced by his wife. Wanganui's Mackay Street was promptly renamed Jellicoe Street, and his name was removed from the Sarjeant Gallery's foundation stone. (It was replaced in 1985). And still the eerie coincidences continue. Mackay had a problem with the local newspaper, it seems:

[During the trial, Mackay's] lawyers said he had sought treatment from doctors and "metaphysicians" (presumably clergymen) for "homosexual monomania". As well as Cresswell's harassment, Mackay had seen his lawyer the day before the shooting about an item in a local newspaper that "threatened him with exposure".

And as if that's not weird enough, what did the disgraced Mackay do when he was released? Went to England and became a journalist.

The Wrestlers are still there in the Sarjeant. The story was the basis of a book by Maurice Gee published last year, The Scornful Moon. Though it was reworked and set in Wellington many of the characters are recognisable including a woman painter based on Edith Collier, whose collection is held by the Sarjeant and who has a permanent bay there dedicated to her works. The possibility of the Collier family pulling the collection out of the Sarejant amid the Mad Mayor's ravings and threats strikes terror into the hearts of those who worry about the city's reputation as an arts centre.

So while one Mayor of Wanganui shoots someone over the works at the Sarjeant, his successor 85 years later shoots his mouth off on the same topic. Spooky, possums, as Dame Edna would say.

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