Topiary skill… is less common in New Zealand than in older countries, for most people hold that a tree is a thing to be burnt and not clipped into a semblance of a bird, a beast or a politician [Auckland Star, 1932].[i]
Topiary – the art of cutting hedges and trees into ornamental shapes resembling animals, decorative objects and geometric forms – was never widely practiced in New Zealand, with few local examples mentioned in our newspapers up to the 1950s. However, there is the odd exception, such as this one from Onehunga, Auckland, in 1932:
“There is a very quaint instance in a garden facing the Esplanade, the waterfront road at Onehunga. On a grassed terrace there is a complete set of furniture for a tea party of three. The table is a Pinus insignis [now Pinus radiata] with its branches flattened and trimmed flat to represent the round top. The chairs, one at each side and one at the back farthest from the road, are ingeniously “built” out of Elaeagnus. The bare stalks represent the legs, and the leafy branches have been coaxed into the exact shape of seat and back, with an inviting hollow for the shoulders. The suite would have delighted Peter Pan and Wendy, and it is more than probable that if there are any fairies in the borough of Onehunga they must haunt the spot on moonlight nights and hold wonderful banquets there”.[ii]
Despite this article appearing in six newspapers, scattered between Auckland and Christchurch, this garden never received a second story.
The most widely reported topiary gardens in local newspapers were those of Mr John Cooper (b.1863; d.1942) of Newman, a small settlement located 4 km north of Eketāhuna in the Wairarapa region, which were often accompanied with photos. This garden, on the route used by travellers between Wellington and Wairarapa[iii], obtained a good amount of coverage through the early 1930s, and was said by one newspaper report to have been “world famous”. [iv]
In 1931, for example, the Manawatu Times reported: “This unusual sight is to be found in the garden of Mr. J. Cooper, at Newman, Eketahuna. Macrocarpa hedges, kept closely clipped, appear in the guise of tables, chairs, animals, and haystacks, sheep, deer, and birds are to be found on the lawns”.[v]
Similarly, the Dominion in 1934 notes: “A garden in the ancient topiary style is one of the outstanding sights between Eketahuna and Pahiatua. The gardener, who skilfully clips his conifers to the shapes of tables, chairs and animals, has spent many years developing his effects.”.[vi]
Unsurprisingly, the gardens were quoted as being “the source of considerable interest owing to the unusual shapes into which various bushes and shrubs have been trimmed”.[vii] Among the most celebrated visitors was Lady Bledisloe, the wife of the Governor-General.[viii]
John Cooper was born in Mākara, west of Wellington, in 1863. He was the son of Mr William Cooper, who “arrived in New Zealand in 1856 from St. Helena, where he was one of Napoleon’s guards, being an officer in the British Imperial Army”.[ix] John Cooper’s early life was spent bush-felling in the Mākara, Wairarapa and Bush districts, and he followed in his fathers military footsteps, when at 17 he was on active service at the colonial attack on Parihaka, and later became a member of the Eketāhuna Mounted Rifles. Cooper moved to his famous garden site around the time of his 1893 marriage to Miss Charlotte Dowsett, of Newman.
During his time in Newman, John took an active interest in the affairs of the district, including being a director of the local School Board, a member of the Domain Board, and he served as a Sunday School teacher at the local Methodist Church for some period. His topiary gardens were a retirement project, after he stood back from active farming in 1920.[x]Most of his attention to the gardens followed the death of his wife, Charlotte, in 1931.[xi]
Cooper’s time at Newman came to an end in 1938, when it was reported he would be leaving to take up residence at Rotorua.[xii] In a 2004 book on his gardens, author Margaret Lucas noted that the motivation behind the move was that if his topiary gardens were a success in such an off-the-beaten-track location, it was sure to do well in a major tourist centre.[xiii]
To Malfroy Road in Rotorua, he was accompanied by his youngest son, Len, and Len’s wife Vera. It was reported that Cooper’s intention was to transplant his topiary from Newman to Rotorua. Indeed, in the June 1939 issue of the Australian magazine ‘Pix’, Len was featured with topiary in the Rotorua garden, including a topiary swan and wheelbarrow – just three months after being planted – which featured alongside examples of topiary gardens from Australia, the United States and The Netherlands.[xiv]However, Lucas reports that most of the plants had died en route.[xv]Nevertheless, the Rotorua experience was not to last long. Following the outbreak of World War II, Len was required back on the farm, and the Rotorua garden was abandoned.[xvi]
John Cooper died in a private hospital in Pahiatua in August 1942. At the time of his death, very little apparently remained of the topiary at Newman, besides a suite of furniture deemed too large to have been transplanted to Rotorua; this was trimmed until the Cooper farm was sold in 1960.[xvii] Following a number of years of abandonment, the house was restored in the 1970s, and named ‘Glendon’. The story of its restoration can be found in the book “Glendon: Topiary & Tranquillity, A History of Two Gardens”, by Margaret Lucas.[xviii]
[i] The Passing Show, Auckland Star, 25 February 1932, P 6
[ii] Growing Furniture, Auckland Star, 30 August 1932, P 6
On 24 November 2022, at 6-7pm, author and gardens enthusiast Matt Morris will talk about his book: “Common Ground: Garden Histories of Aotearoa” – a history of gardening in Aotearoa NZ from 1200-2020AD. He will also share information about two new book projects he is working on, on related themes.
Matt Morris has always lived in Christchurch. After completing a PhD on Christchurch garden history he began working in the Sustainability Office at the University of Canterbury, where he has remained since 2009. He is deeply involved in community-led food resilience initiatives (which he has worked with for over 20 years) and has surrounded his home in New Brighton with fruit trees and vegetables.
Chartwell Room, Hamilton Gardens, $5 door charge and raffle.
Recent historical trends have seen the emergence of the garden as a space through which to examine the social and cultural history of particular groups and places. This talk will examine marriage in colonial New Zealand through the lens of the garden.
Looking at the way in which couples interacted in the garden throws new light on colonial life and relationships. This talk will focus on the point of view of women and, through their own words and experiences, show how vital the space of the garden was to the development of colonial society.
Annette Bainbridge will present her talk “Cultivating Relationships: Colonial Women and their Married Life in the Garden, 1850-1914” at The Chartwell Room, Hamilton Gardens, at 6 – 7 pm on the 4th November.
Annette Giesecke, Centre for Science in Society, Victoria University of Wellington
Almost without fail, I select native plants when adding to my small garden landscape, being conscious of the need to maintain habitats for precious native fauna. I happen also to find New Zealand native flora both fascinating and beautiful. The small-leaved Muehlenbeckia astonii [‘shrubby tororaro’] – its wiry, architectural branch structure having evolved in response to bracing winds; cold, dry environments; and, possibly, pressures from browsing moa – is a particular favourite.1 Nonetheless, I am seduced by exotics from time to time. Most recently, it was Kalanchoe thyrsiflora, known commonly as the ‘paddle plant’, that caught my eye and found its way onto my porch (Figure 1). In this case a combination of shape, colour, and name made this plant irresistible… especially its name.
The paddle plant looks something like a super-fleshy Rosa centifolia [‘cabbage rose’]. Native to South Africa, the paddle plant is a succulent with rounded leaves that are greyish-green and have striking, wide red margins at least part of the year. As its scientific name betrays, the plant bears ‘thyrsus-shaped’ flowers. The Latin species tag thyrsi-flora literally means ‘thyrsus-flowering’. But what is a thyrsus? Greco-Roman religion provides the answer, which has its roots in the cult of the Greek god Dionysus.
Dionysus, called Bacchus by the Romans, is today widely known as the god of wine, but this reflects only part of the god’s identity in antiquity.2 As it happens, Dionysus also was not a Greek god in origin. Rather, he was native to the ancient Near East from where he was imported to Greece. From Greece he was later introduced to Rome. As for his sphere of influence, Dionysus originally was a vegetation deity. Specifically, he represented sap, the life-sustaining liquid in plants, and for this reason he was viewed as being responsible for luxuriant growth in all plant life (Figure 2). Over time, Dionysus became associated with a range of life-sustaining fluids derived both from plants and from other sources in nature, for example wine, honey, and milk. In his play The Bacchae, the Greek tragedian Euripides (5th century BCE) described the arrival of Dionysus in Greece, as well as the nature of his worship, in detail. From the first, Dionysus was extremely popular, and his cult spread like wildfire. Little wonder, as Dionysus was the ultimate ‘democratic god’. In his eyes all were equal: slave and free, male and female, young and old, even human and animal. The god offered people a welcome release from the worries, hardships, and constraints of daily life, all facilitated by drinking a bit of wine. In earliest times, his celebrants would drain their cups (thereby actually partaking of the god that wine embodied), don a fawnskin, clutch a thyrsus, and head for the hills or other wild places in order to commune with nature in ecstatic dance (Figure 3). Something of a magic wand, the thyrsus was a fennel stalk topped with a clump of ivy. According to Euripides, a thyrsus could be used as a weapon, especially against those who disrespected the ‘foreign’, gender-fluid, shapeshifting god (the long-haired, effeminate Dionysus could assume the shape of a serpent, a bull, fire, and even a burgeoning grape vine). Alternatively, the thyrsus could be used to work miracles. When struck with a thyrsus, the earth flowed with streams of milk and honey.
In a state of manic ecstasy – literally ‘standing outside oneself’ (ancient Greek ek-stasis) – the gods’ worshipers snatched up small animals, tore them apart while alive (Greek sparagmos), and ate them raw (omophagia). While appearing barbaric to modern sensibilities, this ritual gave worshipers access to fresh blood, another liquid incarnation of the god. Over time, however, this form of worship was considered ‘over the top’ even by the Greeks. As they became more urbanized, new, more restrained forms of worship were introduced. The city of Athens took the lead in popularizing theatrical productions as the chief public form of honouring this much revered and popular god. As wine drinkers will know, this beverage is conducive to blurring reality and encouraging shifts in behaviour. In view of this fact, a connection between playacting and Dionysus, the wine god, can quite naturally be made.
In any event, the thyrsus would remain one of Dionysus’ most important symbols throughout antiquity. Depiction of a thyrsus alone could suggest the presence of the god. What, then, of the paddle plant? When flowering, this plant produces a metre-long stalk atop which vibrant yellow, fragrant flowers cluster (Figures 4 & 5). The resemblance of this Kalanchoe’s flower stalk to a thyrsus is striking, hence noted Irish botanist William Henry Harvey’s publication (1862) of this plant as the thyrsus-flowering Kalanchoe, Kalanchoe thyrsiflora, in his Flora Capensis; being a systematic description of the plants of the Cape Colony, Caffraria, & port Natal (1862).3
2. See for example, Annette Giesecke, The Mythology of Plants: Botanical Lore from Ancient Greece and Rome (Getty Museum, 2014), pp. 66-75.3.
3. The full citation of this work is: William Henry Harvey & Otto Wilhelm Sonder. 1859–1933. Flora Capensis; being a systematic description of the plants of the Cape Colony, Caffraria, & port Natal. 7 vol. in 11. Kalanchoe thyrsiflora appears in Fl. Cap. Vol. 2: 380 (1862).
Upcoming Garden History talk! The Centre for Science In Society at Te Herenga Waka—Victoria University of Wellington presents a talk by Annette Giesecke on ‘The Mythology of Plants: Gods and Heroes in the Ancient Roman Garden’, on 22 September 2022. Attend in person, or request a Zoom link – see the flyer, below, for details.
When proud Hamiltonian and champion of the Waikato region George Parr died on 26 February 1929, one of Kirikiriroa Hamilton’s best loved parks was born. In his will, Mr. Parr generously bequeathed his home and the three acres of land it sat on to the people of Hamilton with the intention of it becoming a convalescent home and playground for children and families to enjoy. Although it was ultimately decided that the house would not be appropriate for a convalescent home, Parana Park was developed into a popular family destination that people are still enjoying almost 100 years later.
Parr was born in St. Helens, Lancashire, and moved to Hamilton with his parents as a young boy. The family initially settled in Cambridge, but subsequently moved to Hamilton, where his father – Mr. John Parr – later became mayor. After leaving school, George and his brother Robert acquired a grocery business in Hood Street, which they ran until George retired. He was said to have taken an active part in “the public life of the town”, and was the president of the Hamilton Chamber of Commerce for several years. However, Parr never married, and left no children. 
The task of creating the Parana Park recreational area was given to the Hamilton Beautifying Society, who immediately began formulating plans. The Society’s 1931 annual report shows that much of the initial work was undertaken by returned soldiers, such as cutting down the old orchard, clearing away hedges, ploughing the entirety of the park and seeding it with grass, building a substantial aviary with ponga, making preparations for a children’s paddling pool, creating paths down to the river and grading the approach to the proposed bridge between Parana Park and adjoining Memorial Park. 
By the beginning of 1932 the children’s paddling pool was completed, chairs had been placed, gas and water lines provided, and beautiful gardens formed. Shelters with small tables, coin operated gas rings, and the shade from large trees all made for an excellent picnicking destination. 
The park’s “rolling lawns and magnificent flower beds, which form a colourful setting for the profusion of stately trees”, was considered one of the most beautiful areas in the burgeoning town. One visitor reported that the “Rhododendrons and various other shrubs make a fine showing”. 
A ponga house had also been built to grow a large variety of begonias in beds and hanging baskets, the health and beauty of which were admired. Although begonias were previously thought to be delicate hothouse plants that were best grown in individual pots in New Zealand, frilled, crested, double, single, crisper and crispata begonias were all flourishing in beds and the pendula variety was in pots hanging from the roof. This way of growing begonias in New Zealand had “opened up a new field in the cultivation of these plants” and was “a sight worth going many miles to see”. However, it seems that in early 1932 many residents of Hamilton were still totally unaware that such a beautiful site was available to them, and visitor numbers were low. It was said that “When the public of Hamilton fully realise the attractions of Parana Park there will doubtless be more use made of it”.  This prediction was soon proven to be correct, as in February 1933 it was reported that the park was “rapidly becoming a popular resort”. 
Improvements to the land were nearing completion in April 1933 and a foot bridge over the small stream that divides Parana Park and Memorial Park, made from Te Kuiti limestone, was finished. Two marble memorial tablets were laid in the bridge, which commemorated the late George Parr and the late Annie McPherson.  Ms. McPherson generously bequeathed almost £3000 to the Hamilton Beautifying Society to be used on work at Parana Park. It was felt that an ornamental bridge would be an ideal way to spend the money as it would greatly improve public access to the park. 
In August 1933 around 25 boys from the Kahukura Boys Club marched down Victoria Street to Parana Park where they planted liquidambar trees. A ceremony was held with some citizens of Hamilton and the mayor Mr. J R Fow spoke about the history of the park and commented on the beauty and utility of the trees. 
Parana Park had become a “haven from the busy rush of main-street traffic, where the children can play in safety while their parents rest under the shady trees”,  a vision Mr. Parr would have surely loved.
Nevertheless, the beauty and good health of the plants was tempting to some in other ways. In December 1935, two boys aged 11 and 12 were charged with the removal of plants from the park, which they sold to residents around Hamilton. The court commented that the residents should be aware and take more care as they could themselves be charged with receiving stolen goods. 
It appears that the theft of plants continues to be a threat to this day, as there is at the time of writing a sign between the stone bridge and the children’s playground which reads: “Please don’t steal our plants”.
In 1937 one seedling of oak and one of a tanekaha tree were planted to celebrate the coronation of King George VI by St. Peters Guide Company. The trees were donated by the Hamilton Beautifying Society to celebrate its 13th birthday. Eighty visitors attended. 
In addition to the various birds in the park’s several aviaries, there were also pens of white rabbits and guinea pigs, which added to the parks popularity.  There are still aviaries in the park and the birds remain popular with children. In 1937 a wallaby, which was one of Parana Park’s most loved attractions, escaped through a hole in the wire netting and a lively chase ensued. After an exhausting effort by the two park-keepers and several residents who lived near-by, the animal was eventually caught and put back in its pen. It was noted that the wallaby was very fast and elusive. 
The children’s paddling pool proved to be extremely popular on hot days and in 1937 its design was altered for safety reasons after several complaints were laid.  One parent called the pool a “trap for children” after her son had been caught by surprise by the steep sides and depth of the water and had become a “duckling up to the neck, above which appeared a shocked and whitened face”. 
Terraced stairs were created around the entire pool replacing the steep sloping sides, and more trees were planted around it. 
Once reopened the pool was once again crowded on the weekends, and a fine display of wood hyacinths, spring growth on trees and grass in good condition was observed, making the area a fine place for children to play.  The paddling pool is still extremely popular during the warmer months, with “hot weather, high use and “unhygenic [sic] activity”” seemingly comprising its greatest contemporary danger. [20,21]
In 1937 a pergola was completed, the begonia house was rethatched and the creek was cleaned out. The year started with a very wet summer, resulting in a lot of heavy vegetation growth that the staff needed to work hard to control. An astonishing 30,000 plants were propagated in the early months of the year for use in the beds. 
An additional 100 pongas were planted in 1939 to add to those already in the area, adding to the abundance of native plants. 
During the 1930s and 1940s many groups delighted in using the park for various garden parties, school fetes and church fundraising events for organisations such as the League of Mothers,  St Paul’s Methodist Church,  St Aidan’s Church,  the Salvation Army,  Girl Guides and Brownies,  and the P and T Ladies association.  There were reports of heavy-laden stalls which sold cakes, sweets, and ice-creams, and games and competitions were put on. The South Auckland Pipe Band played several times over the years to which school children performed folk dancing for entertainment. On one occasion Norman Tate, a man “better known to thousands of school children in Australia and New Zealand as the Fun Doctor” , arrived expecting to relax at a garden party, but was recognized by the excited children and was compelled to perform his popular juggling act. 
Whitiora, Frankton and Hamilton West Schools often held and attended events at the park. Hamilton West School held its garden fete at the park in November 1933 to help raise money for the school. The South Auckland Caledonian Pipe Band played while the children performed folk dancing, and as well as the usual stalls and competitions there was a conjuring act, comedy pieces and a “King of the Ugly Men” competition, which was won the schools headmaster, Mr. Hall. 
A similar event was held by Hamilton West School in 1934 where “the weather was delightful, and the park presented a gay and animated scene”.  There was a large attendance of parents and hundreds of children in bright clothing had a wonderful time. However, this event was deemed to have an unsatisfactory outcome by the Hamilton Beautifying Society.
Mr. Wallis, then foreman of Parana Park, told the Society that it was the first time a school had organised a picnic at the park and that they were continually climbing trees, running up and down banks and that damage was inevitable; more control should have been exercised over the children. 
However, the Headmaster of Hamilton West School and the Chairman of the school committee refuted the claim that the children had damaged the park; “special precautions were taken to ensure that the beautiful park was treated with the care it deserves”, strictest supervision throughout the entirety of the grounds by staff, the Parents Association and members of the School Committee was maintained and “the children themselves, who on all occasions take a particular pride in their conduct, behaved in every way, in keeping with the tradition of Hamilton West School”.  Saying that they were insufficiently controlled and caused damage to the park was a misrepresentation of facts. One boy did climb a tree, but under supervision to retrieve a model airplane, and no damage was done to the tree. Mr. Wallis was asked to assess the damage after the fete and found none and admitted that the park was left in good order.
Despite this admission, it was decided at the Beautifying Society’s meeting to not “sanction the use of Parana Park in future for organized school picnics”, saying that it was an inappropriate venue for 300 or 400 children, but good for the use of individual families. 
In 1942 a proposal by W. H. Paul, chairman of the Hamilton Beautifying Society, was made for the creation of an open-air theatre, similar to one in London’s Regent Park.  After some discussion it was agreed upon, and in 1943 the theatre was completed, the first of its kind in New Zealand. The theatre was made up of a grassed raised stage, wings of lawsonia hedges, and a backdrop of poplar. It could hold over 1000 spectators and took three years to construct. 
Mr T. Horton, Supervisor for Parks New Plymouth, visited in 1945 and gave his praise to the beauty of the gardens at Parana Park – and especially the open-air theatre – saying it was giving a lead to the whole country by creating an open-air theatre that was as beautiful as it was useful to the cultural life of the town.  The open-air theatre was used for the first time by the Hamilton High School girl’s drama club when they gave a reading of J. M. Barrie’s ‘Quality Street’.  However, the theatre was not officially opened until March 1947. Performances by the schools of Hamilton included four picturesque ballets, music, dances and verse speaking. Over 700 people attended, and the proceeds went to Hamilton Plunket Society.  The theatre was well used during the 1940s and ‘50s, but sadly has since been removed.
At present there is a large variety of native and exotic plants at Parana Park and a kōwhai themed children’s playground. However, there is little to acknowledge the precolonial Māori ownership of the land, or that it was taken in 1863 during the invasion of the Waikato by colonial forces in the ‘New Zealand Wars’. It is situated opposite Rangiora hill, now the site of the Anglican St. Peters Cathedral, and upstream of Miropiko Pā. Both are important sites for local Māori. 
In less than one decade Hamilton will celebrate Parana Parks’ 100th birthday. It is still very well utilised by the public, a fact that Mr. Parr – and all those who made such an effort to turn Parana Park into the place it is today – would be proud of.
 Bequests to Hamilton, Waikato Times, 2 March 1929, P8
 Obituary, Waikato Times, 26 February 1929, P6
 Beautifying Society, Waikato Times, 22 April 1931, P10
 Beautifying Hamilton, New Zealand Herald, 7 May 1932, P16
 Beautifying The Town, Waikato Times, 4 January 1932, P6
 Parana Park, Waikato Times, 21 January 1932, P8
 A Garden City, Waikato Times, 7 February 1933, P3
 Waikato Times, 8 April 1933, P5
 Memorial Bridge, Waikato Times, 12 March 1931, P6
 Port Waikato Club, Waikato Times, 4 August 1933, P3
 Glory of Summer, Waikato Times, 14 December 1935, P9
 Theft of Plants, Waikato Times, 21 December 1935, P7
 Coronation Trees, New Zealand Herald, 13 September 1937, P12
 Improvements to Park, New Zealand Herald, 30 March 1933, P11
 Poverty Bay Herald, 23 February 1937, P2
 Parana Park, Waikato Times, 5 August 1937, P8
 Paddling Pool, Waikato Times, 30 April 1937, P9
 Bathing for Children, Waikato Times, 16 September 1937, P8
 New Paddling Pool, Waikato Times, 19 October 1937, P6
Ian Duggan, Te Aka Mātuatua – School of Science, The University of Waikato
Postage stamps were first issued in New Zealand in 1855. At first they featured what is known as ‘The Chalon Head’ – an illustration of Queen Victoria, based on a portrait by Alfred Edward Chalon, which also appeared on stamps elsewhere in the world (e.g., the Province of Canada, the Bahamas and the Colony of Natal). Further variations of portraits of Queen Victoria followed. In 1898, however, New Zealand became one of the first countries globally to release ‘pictorials’, beginning a trend of placing pictures on its stamps, including landscapes and native birds. Inevitably, stamps featuring gardens, garden flowers and other garden-related paraphernalia, were produced. In this blog, I examine the stories of some of these stamps.
The immortal spirit of youth
Health stamps were a long-running series of charity postage stamps. Released annually between 1929 and 2016, they featured one or more limited edition stamps each year. The series was a uniquely New Zealand one, in that they included a regular postal charge along with an additional fee that went to the benefit of local health projects. Some popular themes included members of the royal family and birds, but it was not until 1945 that our stamps delivered their first garden scene. The depiction was, however, not of a New Zealand garden, but of the Peter Pan statue in Kensington Gardens, London.
Kensington Gardens’ Peter Pan statue, the work of renowned sculptor Sir George Frampton, was chosen for the 1945 Health stamps because of its representation of “the immortal spirit of youth”[i]. The postage rates of the stamps were one pence postage with a further half pence fee charity contribution, and a second stamp, which had a postage rate of two pence, along with an added one pence charity fee. A unique feature of this release was the introduction of a second colour to the Health stamps. As announced by the Acting Postmaster-General, the Hon Frederick Jones in June 1945: “In the 1d and 1/2d denomination the statue and lettering will be grey-green and the background buff, while in the 2d and 1d denomination the colours will be carmine and cinnamon respectively”[ii]. Released on October the first, the proceeds of the charity component were donated for the purpose of maintaining Children’s Health Camps, “for under-weight, delicate, or convalescent children of primary school age”.[iii]
Coming up roses
The earliest in a variety of stamps released depicting roses were those commemorating “Roseworld ‘71”, the inaugural International Rose Convention, which was held in Hamilton in November that year. The convention was attended by delegates from around 15 countries, including 80 from Australia[iv]. In all, it was estimated that more than 70,000 visitors converged on Hamilton over six days.
The idea for a world rose convention arose from a meeting in London sometime around 1968, where it was voted to hold the initial event in New Zealand.[v] Hamilton was subsequently chosen as the venue by the National Rose Society of New Zealand, in part because of the large size of the Waikato Winter Show Buildings at Claudelands Showgrounds.[vi] Further, Hamilton was considered worthy due to “Hamilton City Council’s acceptance of a scheme to establish a rose garden off Cobham Drive”.[vii] This garden, known as the Rogers Rose Garden, was one of the first developments in Hamilton Gardens; development began on the rose garden in 1969, and was opened in 1970, the year before the convention.
The three stamps, depicting a Tiffany Rose (2c), Peace Rose (5c) and a Chrysler Imperial Rose (8c), proved exceptionally popular, with buyers forming something of a stampede. It was noted that:
The “rose” stamps which were placed on sale in the first week of November proved so popular that within a week stocks at many Post Offices were either exhausted or very low, says the Post Office. To meet the demand, it has arranged with the printer, Courvoisier of Switzerland, to print a further supply.[viii]
Roses proved popular in the 1970s, with the Roseworld ’71 stamps followed by what is known as the ‘Rose Definitives’ collection in 1975. ‘Definitive stamps’ is a term denoting postage stamps that are part of a country’s regular issues, available for sale for an extended period of time, and designed to serve the everyday postal needs of the country. Nine denominations, each featuring a different rose cultivar, were initially released; the 1c stamp featured the ‘Sterling Silver’, 2c ‘Lilli Marlene’, 3c ‘Queen Elizabeth’, 4c ‘Super Star’, 5c ‘Diamond Jubilee’, 6c ‘Cresset’, 7c ‘Michele Meilland’, 8c ‘Josephine Bruce’, and the 9c depicted the ‘Iceberg’ cultivars.
Interestingly, two of the stamps were reissued in 1979, overprinted with a new price; The 8c ‘Josephine Bruce’ stamp was reissued with a lower value of 4c, while the 6c ‘Cresset’ stamp was overprinted with a value of 17c. In 1980, similarly, the 7c ‘Michele Meilland’ stamp was overprinted with a 20c value.
In a move some might say pushed the envelope, roses again featured on our stamps with a New Zealand-China joint stamp issue in 1997. Released as a pair of 40c stamps, one features Rosa rugosa (Mei kuei), and the other ‘Aotearoa New Zealand’ (also known as Rosa ‘New Zealand’), a rose cultivar developed in New Zealand.
Rapid deliveries: Brief notes on other issues
A number of other stamps have featured garden and related images. The 1983 definitives issue included five stamps featuring fruit grown in New Zealand; grapes (10c), citrus fruits (20c), nectarines (30c), apples (40c) and kiwifruit (50c).
Originating from Asia, Camellias are a common component of New Zealand gardens, and were the focus of a series of stamps in 1992. These depicted a variety of cultivars; ‘Grand Finale’ (45c), ‘Showa No Sakae’ (50c), ‘Sugar Dream’ (80c), ‘Night Rider’ ($1), ‘E G Waterhouse’ ($1.50) and ‘Dr Clifford Parks’ ($1.80).
The Scenic Gardens series in 1996 was notable for being the first stamps to depict New Zealand public gardens. The series celebrated five public gardens; Seymour Square Gardens, Blenheim (40c), Pukekura Park, New Plymouth (80c), the Auckland Wintergarden ($1), Christchurch Botanic Gardens ($1.50), and the Marine Parade Gardens, Napier ($1.80).
Besides these series, individual stamps have also featured garden related images. In 1960, a definitives series of eight stamps featuring native flowers was released, including flowers from species such as Kōwhai (3d), a common component on New Zealand gardens. Come 1967, and the introduction of decimal currency, it was decided that there was insufficient time to produce a new set of pictorial stamps. As a result, the design of the 1960 issue was retained, and the Kōwhai stamp was reissued carrying a value of 2 1/2c.
Finally, in 1999, as the new millennium approached, a gardening stamp was released as part of a ‘Nostalgia’ series. A stamp titled ‘Garden’ ($1.80) featured images of seed packets from horticultural supply company ‘Yates’, along with a Masport push mower.
On September 1st, 1910, Miss Elise Moore, teacher at Hinerua school, wrote in the school logbook -“25 present. Children are starting a garden today, to be worked on their intervals, but I cannot find time to help them as I am busy all lunch hour correcting spelling & seeing that mistakes are written out & that sums are got right.”
For 14 years from April 1910 to May 1924 Miss Moore taught at Hinerua School. Her logbook shows that gardening was on the school curriculum throughout this time and used to teach academic and physical skills, to care for tools and to provide research data for regional crop performance. The garden provided opportunities for connectivity with the local community (who helped in the garden) and with pupils from other schools (through horticultural competitions). The garden also connected the school with the local farm boys who went to War.
Hinerua school, which opened in 1909 and closed in 1924, was situated on a small hill at the base of the Ruahine mountain range in Central Hawke’s Bay, New Zealand. A mountain stream flowed nearby. The nearest village was Ongaonga, 15 miles distant and the nearest town, Waipawa, about 25 miles away. The pupils were farming children from Blackburn and Hinerua. During the formative years weekly attendance was around 22-27.
Elise Moore, born in Clyde in 1875, was one of five children.Her father Samuel Moore had been a Police Inspector escorting gold in Australia and New Zealand. Miss Moore was educated in Lawrence and became a teacher, eventually becoming the principal of Kanunda Girls College in Adelaide, Australia. Wanting to return to New Zealand, she took the first position available, which was Hinerua School.
The Hinerua School site was windy and cold with poor afternoon sun. Miss Moore recorded the children suffering from rheumatism, influenza, colds, and bad backs. Rain, snow, sickness, home help and farming duties affected attendance.
With perseverance the school gardens developed. Henry Hill, the school inspector, visited on 17th June 1911 and reported “The little gardens made by the pupils are neat and tidy and the grounds have been planted with several varieties of pines for shelter and ornamental purposes.”
Neighbouring farmers helped. In July 1911, Mr Fargher brought posts for a garden fence. The next day brothers Ernest Adams (age 19) and Bertie (age 17) built it. In the future, both boys would enlist for World War I service, survive, and return to the district.
On 14 March 1913, Miss Moore recorded “Mr Adams kindly lent us a horse & sledge to cart soil from the sheep dip yards…” She went on to write: “17th-20th March Much time has been given to gardening this week so as to get the gardens into order for the year. The digging is very hard and there are not many children strong enough for it. At present gardening is interfering with our regular schoolwork but I am hoping that once the gardens are formed the children will be able to keep them in order in their intervals & dinner hours. Half an hour’s gardening is done by Std V each week from 10.30 to 11.”
Inspector Hill visited the school in May 1913 and found it closed.
“On inquiry I was informed that Miss Moore was suffering from influenza & that most of the children were suffering from mumps,” he wrote. “The ground about the building drains the surface water under the school. Good health of the children can hardly be expected under the conditions.”
He observed “The children’s gardens are neatly arranged and pansies, phlox, petunias, violets and several other varieties of flowers were in full bloom. Several beds of strawberries are neatly laid out. Everything is ready for Spring.”
He added on his August inspection “…there are strawberry beds that almost tempt an Inspector to visit the place on another occasion!”
A year later in his August 1914 report, Inspector Hill wrote “The externals of this school are highly commended to the Committee, Mistress and pupils. The flower gardens are full of primroses in full bloom & form a pretty sight adding a charm to the surroundings. There are beds of strawberries & the plantations are in good order & present a healthy appearance…This small outlying school continues to present features of special interest in the training of children. The family life is fostered, and there is a delightful tone in the school. All the external arrangements are a reflex of the internal. The children are happy and work with diligence and fair success… The training in preparing a table for the children’s lunch is worthy of general adoption in all country schools.”
Then, disaster. In October big winds struck the school. Miss Moore recorded the outcome in the school log.
“7th Oct. As the gale was still bad in the morning it was considered advisable not to hold school. Much of the asphalt has been carried away & our gardens have suffered badly.”
“8th Oct. The day was so hot & the ground so dry after the wind that I decided not to take gardening.”
“30th Oct. Vegetable seeds which children had planted have been blown away during gale – the potatoes & artichokes which were planted from 5 to 6 ins. deep were uncovered.”
“3rd Nov. Another gale has again uncovered the potatoes & destroyed the beans that were up.”
“10th Dec. School was closed in the afternoon because of the raging gale. School during the morning was very trying owing to the noise caused by the wind. Some of the little ones were very frightened.”
The wind sent sparks from the school chimney into the adjoining paddock and set logs on fire. The fire spread quickly and the neighbouring farmers and school boys had difficulty in putting it out.
At the end of 1914 Miss Moore sent a letter to the Education Board requesting, for the second time, a register for the Elementary Agriculture class.
She wrote “I have not been able to get in 40 weeks of instruction in gardening this year as the weather has very often not been suitable on gardening day.” She thanked the Board for seeds and tools and asked for a wheelbarrow.
The 1915 records show the school had 5 spades, 1 potato fork, 2 rakes, 3 hoes, 1 watering can, 1 trowel, 2 small forks and 1 wheelbarrow.
In addition to learning how to grow and prepare food from garden to table, the school log inform the flower garden was used for teaching art, empathy, and compassion.
In May 1915 Miss Moore wrote “Children made paintings of a Japanese anemone from natural flower and sent them to a schoolmate in Waipawa Hospital, who is recovering from a serious operation.”
The children gathered flowers which they “carried with a letter of welcome and gratitude to a returned wounded soldier.”
One class photograph shows the children holding flowers and another shows the children posing with tools in the school garden of brick edged beds with flowers and paths between.
There were few gardening entries in 1916 owing to a year of terrible weather and illness. Gales set the chimney on fire for the second time. Three farm boys were farewelled for military training. On Dominion Day in September, instead of taking a holiday, the children came to school. They began to clear around some of the trees planted on the school hill, naming each tree after one of their local soldiers. They would take the Dominion Day holiday in October when the three farm boys-turned-soldier returned home for final leave.
In December the Ongaonga Horticultural Show was held. The school entered the children’s competitions for maps, freehand drawings, brush work and writing, and achieved prizes. These competitions were entered annually, with Miss Moore once cycling eleven miles into Ongaonga with the entries to ensure they arrived in time.
A local farm boy, Lance Hardy, was killed in action in France in 1917. When two returned soldiers were welcomed back to Hinerua in 1918, Miss Moore and her pupils established The Lance Memorial Fund in his memory. The money raised was forwarded every month to the Salvation Army and alternately to the Y.M.C.A to provide refreshments for soldiers. Perhaps some of the money come from selling school vegetables as Miss Moore was required to furnish a return on the sale of garden produce. Net sales were also reported in the local newspaper.
In 1920 the Education Office asked for a scale plan of the garden for the Director of M. & T. Institution so that the years experiments would be a permanent office record for reference. The Office wrote “In all school gardens it will be necessary to limit demonstration work to one or two but not more than three classes of crops. There are many problems still unsolved with onions or potatoes or maize or marigolds according to the district. It is these problems that ought to be tackled in the school garden and the estimates obtained ought to be of use to the community.”
Miss Moore kept records of the potato yield for each garden plot including the child responsible, the potato type (Maori Chief, New Era, Northern Star or Dakota Red) when the plot was planted and manured, the type of manure used, the date the plot was harvested and the potato weights.
At the end of 1921 school Inspector R G Whetter described the flower plots as exceptional. By 1923, Hinerua School’s golden years of gardening were on the wane. The school year had opened with three pupils, averaging six in the first quarter. Before the year was out, no boys were on the roll.
The Education Board sent seeds of salvia, gaillardia, pansies, stocks, coreopsis, sweet peas, asters, wallflower, larkspur, cosmos, petunia, zinnia, antirrhinum, godetia, and miniature sunflower, which were dutifully planted out.
In July the children planted seeds of onion and lettuce and made experiments with cress. At the end of the year, Mr W.C. Morris, Supervisor of Agriculture visited and gave a talk on weeds and grasses. Miss Moore wrote to him apologising for the neglected gardens, advising his talk had inspired the girls to clear the gardens. In early 1924 they made a nature study collection of weeds and grasses.
On May 8th Miss Moore wrote that the Education Board was of the opinion the school should be closed as the average attendance had fallen to three. Settlers were meeting to discuss the situation.
“May 30th I have been appointed to Makaretu North School & am leaving for there tomorrow,” she wrote.
She commenced at Makaretu on June 2nd, remaining there until the end of 1932, after which she retired to Palmerston North where her sister and brother lived. She died in 1942.
The Hinerua school buildings were removed, and the grounds reverted to farm paddock. Today what remains are the shelter belts of Macrocarpa that the children planted, spring bulbs, and the odd brick that once edged the garden beds.
The school log and school inspector reports remind us of the glory days of school gardening, epitomised by Inspector Hill’s description in 1913 – “It is like an oasis, an educational oasis, in a lonely isolated spot.”
Annette Giesecke, Centre for Science in Society, Victoria University of Wellington
The eruption of Mt Vesuvius in the year 79 CE was indisputably a calamity for the residents of Pompeii, Herculaneum, and other settlements around the Bay of Naples. Yet the misfortune of these individuals has provided later generations with an invaluable window into daily life in the Roman world. Houses, their roofs collapsed but complete with cookware, furniture, toys, and, in some cases, their inhabitants, were preserved by Vesuvius’ pyroclastic flow. The houses’ gardens, of course, did not survive, but carbonized pollens and seeds, together with root cavities left in the hardened volcanic ash, have revealed that every Pompeiian house, however large or small, had a garden. Additional evidence for the character and appearance of these gardens has been gleaned from the many Pompeiian frescoes depicting densely-planted landscapes. Interestingly, identifiable plant species and, in some cases, even cultivars still appear in domestic gardens and other designed landscapes today. For example, a fresco from the so-called House of Venus in the Shell, depicts a garden planted with roses (Rosa gallica), southernwood (Artemisia abrotanum), myrtle (Myrtus communis), cherry plums (Prunus cerasifera), strawberry trees (Arbutus unedo), oleander (Nerium oleander), pine (Pinus spp.), and ivy (Hedera helix) (Figure 1).
Roman garden plants may be recognizable and familiar to us, but do the names we today assign botanical specimens correspond to names used in antiquity? Take the pomegranate, Punica granatum, for example. The modern English “common” and Latin “scientific” names for the pomegranate do, in fact, derive from classical antiquity. In classical Latin, the fruit was known either as malum punicum or malum granatum (also melogranatum). Malum is the Latin word and mēlon the Greek for “apple” (which could be used for a range of tree fruit). Granatum derives from granum, “grain,” and means “(multi-) grained”, alluding to the fruit’s numerous grain-like seeds (see Figure 2). The adjective punicus, strictly speaking, refers to Phoenicia in Asia Minor but was more frequently used with respect to Carthage, the Phoenician colony in northern Africa, the birthplace of Hannibal and long Rome’s mortal enemy; the pomegranate was believed to be of African origin. The Romans thus called the pomegranate by at least two names, “Punic apple” and “many-seeded apple.” The Greeks, incidentally, called the pomegranate rhóā but also referred to it as mēlon.
While this plant’s modern names are indeed derived from the classical, it is important to note that they do not reflect actual ancient usage. The common English name “pomegranate” is a combination of Latin pomum, “fruit,” and granatum, “many-seeded.” The modern scientific name Punica granatum (the feminine ending -a being appropriate for a fruit-bearing and thus “feminine” tree) borrows from both malum punicum and malum granatum but reflects modern plant taxonomy, the science that finds, identifies, describes, classifies, and names plants by designating, among other things, a plant’s Family (group of genera that share a set of underlying features); Genus (group of one or more plants sharing a wide range of characteristics); Species (group of plants capable of breeding together and producing offspring similar to themselves); Subspecies (naturally occurring distinct variants of a species often in isolated populations and indicated by the abbreviation “subsp.” followed by a descriptor); Variety (minor subdivisions of a species differing slightly in botanical structure and indicated by the abbreviation “var.” followed by a descriptor); and Cultivar (distinct variant or hybrid known only in cultivation and indicated by a name in single quotes).[i] In particular, Punica granatum is a binomial, adhering to the formal two-part naming system indicating genus and species established by Carolus Linnaeus in the eighteenth century to classify all life.
In antiquity, plant names were neither consistently binomial—indeed, they were often not—nor were they necessarily consistent even within a given culture or language. In fact, some plants were not named (if wild and not “useful”), and others were known by multiple names: by Latin names, Greek names, and names given them in their places of origin and in the language of that region, for instance[ii]. This is not to suggest that names assigned in antiquity were random or meaningless, far from it. Rather, it is the case that naming is a direct reflex of the desire to “own,” and this desire is predicated on usefulness. It is also the case that plants’ names, however flexible, appear largely to have reflected their physical characteristics, their place of origin, or their agency in medicinal or alimentary contexts. An example, is Artemisia spp. (“spp.” indicating a range of species), perhaps most likely the species vulgaris known commonly as “mugwort”? Here again the Linnaean name is derived from its ancient Greek name, artemisía, which was employed to treat gynecological conditions and was named after the goddess Artemis, goddess of childbirth.
It is not the case, however, that ancient names always found their way into modern nomenclature, and they can be misleading to a modern reader of an ancient text. The rhododendron is an example. What we know today as Rhododendron spp., a genus of some one thousand species of woody plants in the heath family (Ericaceae), is a very different plant from what Roman encyclopedist Pliny the Elder in the sixteenth book of his Natural History called rhododendron (from the Greek meaning “red tree”), namely the Nerium oleander, a shrub or small tree in the dogbane family Apocynaceae—though both, notably, are shrubs or small trees that can bear red or reddish flowers:
Belonging to this last class, there are the following trees that do not lose their leaves:the olive, the bay laurel, the palm, the myrtle, the cypress, the pine, the ivy, the rhododendron …. The rhododendron, as its name indicates, comes from Greece. By some it is known as the nerium, and by others as the rhododaphne. It is an evergreen, bearing a strong resemblance to the rose-tree, and throwing out numerous branches from the stem; to beasts of burden, goats, and sheep it is poisonous, but for man it is an antidote against the venom of serpents. (Natural History 16.33.79)[iii]
Yet elsewhere, Pliny uses rhododendron to name what has been identified in modern times as Rhododendron ponticum:
In the country of the Sanni, in the same part of Pontus, there is another kind of honey, which, from the madness it produces, has received the name of “maenomenon” [maddening]. This evil effect is generally attributed to the flowers of the rhododendron, with which the woods there abound; and that people, though it pays a tribute to the Romans in wax, derives no profit whatever from its honey, in consequence of these dangerous properties. (Natural History 21.45.77)[iv]
Do the names we assign botanical specimens correspond to names used in antiquity? The answer, then, is “sometimes in part, and sometimes not.”
Excerpt (adapted) from Annette Giesecke, “Plants and Culture in Antiquity”, Introduction to A Cultural History of Plants in Antiquity, A. Giesecke ed. and contrib. (Bloomsbury: London, 2022), pages 7-10.
[i] Brickell, Christopher, and Judith D. Zuk. 1997. The American Horticultural Society A-Z encyclopedia of garden plants. New York: DK Books.
[ii] Hardy, Gavin, and Laurence Totelin. 2016. Ancient Botany. London and New York: Routledge.
[iii] Pliny the Elder. Natural History, Vol. 4: Books 12-16. Edited and translated by H. Rackham. 1945. Loeb Classical Library 370. Cambridge: Harvard University Press.
[iv] Pliny the Elder. Natural History, Vol. 6: Books 20-23. Edited and translated by W. H. S. Jones. 1951. Loeb Classical Library 392. Cambridge: Harvard University Press.
This rustic early Dunedin scene shows cottages not in some quiet suburban side street but rather near the city centre in Moray Place, close to where the principal church would be built. Or rather, it was on top of where the church would be built, since Church Hill, more commonly known as Bell Hill, would first be excavated to about half its original height, a huge project that began in 1862. The neat garden surrounded by the picket fence was not a domestic veggie patch but one of the earliest commercial nurseries. George Matthews, who is possibly the man standing next the door of the cottage, ‘was a pioneer horticulturalist who helped the colonists expand the range of plants in their gardens and helped them make Otago more like “home”.’ He was born in 1812 in Stuartfield near Old Deer in Aberdeenshire, 10 miles (16 km) west of Peterhead. Matthews worked on the family farm until he was about 18, when he became an apprentice gardener for the Laird of Nethermuir, about 10 miles west. His training complete, he became foreman gardener at Fyvie Castle (a further 12 miles west), moving on after a year to the Royal Botanic Garden in Edinburgh. After six years as foreman gardener nearby at Dryden (near Rosslyn Chapel), he married Eliza Pressly in 1840 and went to work in Ireland. First at Martinstown on the edge of the Curragh, and later in the western outskirts of Dublin at Knockmaroon, he ‘achieved considerable reputation as a plant-grower, his attention being specially directed to the hard-wooded sorts.’ He got to know a fellow gardener, James Gebbie from Riccarton near Kilmarnock, ‘and the two men discussed their families’ future options in the colonies.’
They plumped for the new Otago Settlement, possibly because a gardener Matthews had once worked with, John Anderson from Old Deer, was already in Dunedin. He had arrived at the start of 1849, and in December Gebbie and family came too. The Matthews, with their three children and George’s youngest sister Jane, followed them in March 1850. The family eventually grew to four sons and two daughters. Jane Matthews married the Yorkshireman John Hartley Jenkinson the following year. The Gebbies and the Matthews stayed together in a suburban cottage made from tree fern trunks. Matthews then purchased the quarter-acre (1000 m²) section in Moray Place that can be seen in the photograph for £40. It was on the site of what is now Bracken Court, facing the top of Burlington Street, and ran down to the Octagon roughly where the Athenӕum is now. The north-facing slope was ideal for a nursery, sheltered from the wind and with a ‘never-failing stream’ at its foot. With great foresight Matthews had brought a selection of seeds, trees and other plants with him from the United Kingdom. Dunedin, founded in 1848, was barely two years old and still just a large village, and though its residents were busy planting, it was not enough to support a gardener or seedsman’s business. Matthews ‘found that the prospect of doing much in the way of gardening was very poor, and he soon became convinced of the reality that a hard struggle was before him. In fact, he found it necessary to engage in manual labour of the severest kind, but he never felt discouraged. He went bravely to work, taking employment wherever he could obtain it… at certain seasons his services were in demand for breaking up ground with bullocks, and for thrashing grain with the flail … The first job he undertook was to assist in building a house. After his day’s work, his time was employed in clearing, breaking up, and fencing a quarter-acre of flax land’, his Moray Place nursery. ‘Here he laboured before and after his regular day’s work, and often late on moonlight nights. Nine months after his arrival he had a house of his own, which he built himself, and a little nursery, from which he occasionally sold a few apple-trees, hawthorn plants, or gooseberry bushes. For years, however, there was very little demand for nursery goods, and he continued at work, occasionally taking a contract to drain land, form a road, or clear a building site.’ For several years Matthews was farm manager and gardener to the future Superintendent of the Otago Province James Macandrew and his brother-in-law William Reynolds in the Glen, south of the town.
The anthropologist Helen Leach has pointed out that ‘Gardening seems to have been a major interest of the Otago settlers: the Otago Witness had a garden column every month in the early 1850s, and the Otago Horticultural Society had been formed early in 1851.’ In due course the Church Hill Nursery began to prosper and was expanded towards Princes Street. By 1853 Matthews was able to buy a second property above the Town Belt in Mornington and developed a 10-acre (4-hectare) nursery there for shrubs and trees, which he called Hawthorn Hill. He later added a further 25 acres, but it was mostly poor, hard, clay soil which he had to drain and manure extensively. Thorn, holly and laurel hedges could only protect the nursery against the prevailing winds so far, but in any case ‘the trees grown in this exposed position are very hardy and remarkably healthy.’ The site of the nursery is today covered with the houses of Hawthorn Avenue. Matthews’ ‘love for rare and fine plants was an absorbing passion’. His own garden was ‘beautifully kept’ and contained some rare exotic trees, while the lawn was ‘literally as green and smooth as the cloth upon a billiard table’.
Tens of thousands of timber, fruit, nut and specimen trees were grown at Hawthorn Hill, along with decorative shrubs such as rhododendrons, laurustinuses, hydrangeas and oleanders. The fruit included apples, pears, plums, cherries, apricots, peaches, grapes, currants, figs, blackberries, raspberries and gooseberries ‘by the thousand’. By the late 1850s Matthews’ regular advertisements in the Otago Witness drew ‘the attention of Settlers to his one and two-year old Apple Trees, which are remarkable for bearing when very young. Also Pears — Plums — Peaches — Apricots — Cherries — Gooseberries — Black, Red, and White Currants — Raspberry Canes — Strawberry Plants — and a large stock of Rhubarb Roots. Forest Trees, consisting of Ash, Elm, Poplar, Locust, Laburnum, &c. Evergreen and Flowering Shrubs — Roses and Flower Roots — Lilies and other Flowering Bulbs, &c.’He planned in 1858 to establish an ‘Agricultural & Horticultural Museum’ and invited ‘his numerous friends in the country’ to send him ‘specimens of Wheat, Oats, Barley, Rye, Peas, Beans, Vetches, Grasses, &c. Also, Potatoes, Turnips, Mangold Wurtzel, Carrots, Parsnips, Beet-root, Onions, Shallots, and various sorts of Fruit. Also, specimens of rare and useful Native Trees and Shrubs. Likewise, Minerals, &c.’ It is unclear if anything came of this scheme, which predated the foundation of Otago Museum by a decade.
As land was turned over to crops and pasture there was a great need for hedging. Matthews sold gorse or whin seed and yellow broom for hedges, and by the mid-1860s was advertised half a million thorn quicks at 12–15 shillings a thousand. That many would produce nearly eight chains (160m) of hedgerow. For the pasture itself, Matthews sold clover seed and cow grass ‘from one of the most celebrated Seedsmen in Edinburgh.’ Perennial and Italian rye grass, Yorkshire Fog, Timothy and cocksfoot were big sellers, and Matthews recommended ribgrass, a drought-tolerant plantain, for sheep runs as it ‘will grow well on rocky ground at a very high altitude.’ By 1863 he was importing clover seed by the ton. The following year, Matthews started selling Peruvian guano to establish permanent pasture in drought-prone areas or to grow crops on poor soil. In 1870 he was entrusted with the levelling, harrowing and sowing of the new racecourse on the swampy, ‘almost useless’ site of Forbury Park.
George Matthews was already doing so well by the time the Otago gold rush began in 1861 that ‘the attraction of the goldfields did not seduce him from his own proper calling’, but he was in any case pushing 50 by then. His slightly younger friend James Gebbie was tempted to try his luck, however. Returning from a few months on the goldfields he bought some land for a new nursery in the bush on the east bank of the Water of Leith, a small stream prone to flash floods, adjoining what is now the site of Otago University and not far from the original public botanic garden. There he grew a wide variety of trees, shrubs and flowers, and found strawberries ‘extremely profitable’. One of his few failures was a ginkgo tree brought from Sydney which, despite careful nurturing over 18 years, did not grow an inch. After the Botanic Garden moved to its present site in 1869, Gebbie’s son James took over the management of the 11-acre (4.5 hectare) reserve. He planted many trees and laid out walks for the public, using some of the land as nursery beds for the family business.
The Matthews family meanwhile moved to a newly built 11-room single-storey brick house on the hillcrest above the city in 1870, though they continued to operate the Moray Place nursery about 1.4 miles (2.6 km) away for many years. The original wooden cottage survived until 1872 when it was replaced by a large stone and brick building designed by the locally celebrated architect Robert Lawson housing a shop, office, seed store, living accommodation and conservatory. It faced the neoclassical portico of the Masonic Hall and was considered ‘more in keeping with its improved and improving surroundings’ than the pioneer cottage had been. Its pediment proclaimed the building the ‘Otago Seed Warehouse’. Eventually the site of the old nursery was swallowed up by the demand for business premises in the central city and the land was sold by the Matthews family in 1911. Though he became an elder of First Church, the principal Presbyterian church, in 1860, Matthews ‘took no very active part… in public matters’, though ‘at the same time he had decided opinions, and did not fail to express them when occasion required’. Illness restricted his involvement in the business in his later years, and he died at the age of 72 in 1884, after a working life helping transform the countryside of Otago, both farms and domestic gardens. His son Henry managed the business during his father’s illness and continued it after his death with his foreman John Wood McIntyre, ‘an acknowledged authority on New Zealand flora’. It was largely due to them that ‘New Zealand species were gradually recognised overseas as valuable garden plants’, being exported to Europe and North America, and even to Japan. In 1896 Henry was appointed the country’s first Chief Forester, in charge of government nurseries and plantations, and he helped establish the first state forests. In the meantime, one of James Gebbie’s sons had become Curator of the Oamaru Public Gardens..