The Dunedin Botanic Garden is dissected by the Lindsay Creek, dividing the garden into two distinct areas; the more formal, level Lower Garden and the steeper Upper Garden. The Water of the Leith / Ōwheo provides a boundary along the south side of the Lower Garden. This gives the Botanic Garden the luxury of a wide range of landscape areas in which to display the plant and bird collections. The creek itself offers a lot to the garden, both in landscape possibilities and wildlife habitat.
Connecting the Upper and Lower Garden for visitors has always been a challenge. To cross the creek there has been a range of bridges constructed, both practical and ornamental.
The Dunedin Botanic Garden was relocated from its original site of the corner of Castle and Albany streets (the present site of the University of Otago in Dunedin) to its current site in 1869, after the first garden was destroyed by flooding. This site had been occupied by the Otago Acclimatisation Society since 1864. The Acclimatisation Society manager CP Clifford made one of the first bridges across the Lindsay. Clifford’s bridge was a simple structure with what looks like abutments made from branches. The plantings of flax would have been very good at helping to control erosion and flood damage.
CP Clifford, Acclimatisation Manager, on a bridge he built across the Lindsay Creek. Hocken Collections – Uare Taoka o Hākena, University of Otago.
The early bridges were rustic structures made of timber, often very ornamental in their arts and crafts style. Rough sawn timber crisscrossed for strength made attractive patterns. Mānuka or Kānuka was often used. Basically, whatever was at hand was put to use.
These initial bridges were only able to take foot traffic, which limited the amount of access for maintenance vehicles. These were originally horse and cart and later small tractors. Anything large or heavy would have to take the public road around the botanic garden. Or, in some cases, they never crossed the creek.
Clifford’s bridge was replaced by this sturdier structure around 1886. Hocken Collections – Uare Taoka o Hākena, University of Otago.
This bridge, not as ornate as some of the others, looked strong enough and wide enough to take a small cart.
In March 1870 the Water of the Leith was widened and a new channel cut to prevent flooding of the new garden and nursery. The banks were lined sloping stone walls. A new central bridge across Lindsay creek was able to take a small dray.
Rustic bridge across Lindsay Creek. 1908 Dunedin Botanic Garden collection
Lower Garden north foot bridge before straightening of Lindsay Creek An attractive rustic bridge. C 1920 Dunedin Botanic Garden collection.
Lindsay Creek has undergone several changes, such as being straightened in the late 1920s to accommodate the tram and road changes. Before the straightening of Lindsay Creek there was an extremely attractive rustic bridge leading to the bandstand. There was more digging out and retaining in the 1930s, with the bridges rebuilt each time.
North foot bridge with new rock garden developments behind. The top railing of the bridge matches the fences put in to keep people of the new made rock garden. The stone walls of the creek were yet to be made. C 1925. Hocken Collections – Uare Taoka o Hākena, University of Otago.
In 1936/37 Lindsay creek was widened and deepened again and two new bridges were constructed with braced steel beams, completed in 1938. Excavated out and retained with stone walls, David Tannock, the Botanic Garden Curator, hoped to alleviate the severely formal appearance of the walls by planting rambler roses, which would hang down over the stone walls. Even now in heavy rain, water can lap the bottom of the bridges.
Widening and deepening of Lindsay Creek 1936/37. Central bridge in background. DBG collection.
Widening deepening Lindsay creek with the Opoho Road concrete bridge in Background DBG collection 1938. DGB collection
Central bridge in background. C 1980 DBG Collection
By the 1960s, the Lindsay Creek bridges were replaced with far less attractive timber and hurricane wire constructions and painted an unsympathetic white. These bridges were mainly for foot traffic, but if you approached it at the right angle, you could just squeeze a small tractor and trailer across. Get it slightly wrong, however, and the trailer would get stuck, which would necessitate unhitching the trailer and turning it on its side to carry off the bridge. Very embarrassing.
Opening of the Edward Theomin Bridge. 1998. Botanic Garden manager Alan Matchett and Botanic Garden Curator Mick Reece withthe Theomin’s 1921 Fiat Tipo (type) 510, the first vehicle to use the new bridge.
There are now three bridges connecting the Lower Garden to the Upper Garden. The central one replaced in 1998 was designed to be more in keeping with the garden and can carry the Botanic Garden maintenance vehicles. The bridge with its heritage style railings was possible by a $24,000 grant from the Edward Theomin Trust and is greatly appreciated by staff and visitors.
Robert Percy Moore is regarded as New Zealand’s greatest panoramic photographer.1 Particularly during the 1920s, Moore’s photos included many large urban houses of the upper class and rural homesteads of wealthy runholders. Here is an example of the former:
Source: Smith, George John, 1862-1946. Riverlaw, a very large three-storeyed house in Aynsley Terrace, St Martins, Christchurch. Moore, Robert Percy, 1881-1948 :Panoramic photographs of New Zealand. Ref: Pan-0928-F. Alexander Turnbull Library, Wellington, New Zealand. /records/32050477
The St Martins house, owned by Colonel Smith, had an extensive garden designed by Alfred Buxton, who in terms of landscape design shares with Moore the appellation ‘New Zealand’s greatest’ (at least during the early 1900s). If we enlarge the photo to show the entrance to the house, we can see the central interest of this blogpost:
The relatively formal design has two palms framing the entrance steps leading to the front of the house. The magnification does not give enough detail to precisely identify the palms, but as Gleeson2 notes Buxton liked Chinese and European fan palms. The former, in particular, were heavily used in his garden designs, and so it is likely the palms are either Livistona chinensis or Trachycarpus fortunei, both of which can go by the common name ‘Chinese fan palm’, though the latter is also known as the Chusan or Chinese windmill palm.3
As Tipples notes in his 1989 book Colonial Landscape Gardener,4 Buxton’s Christchurch nursery had a large heated greenhouse for the production of palms, both for sale and for use in planting out his landscape designs, so it is quite possible that the two palms seen above were grown in Buxton’s nursery. Though the pair above function as an entrance frame, another reason Buxton favoured the palm was a rising popularity in the 1920s for Japanese gardens. Either the Chusan or Chinese fan palm went well with bamboos, Japanese maples, camellias and so on to give a Japanese look to parts of a garden.
Both palms are amongst the most cold-hardy of palm species, hence their further appeal to Buxton who designed many large gardens in the South Island. As Tipples notes, Buxton hired Robert Percy Moore to photograph many of his major landscape works, as early as 1910, and certainly up to 1926 when Buxton’s landscape business went into voluntary liquidation. A good number of Moore’s panoramic photos are available from DigitalNZ as a result of a National Library digitisation project, but the coverage does not allow the identification of the southern-most Buxton-inspired planting of fan palms. The remainder of the post does, however, focus on two, that being in the deep south – Clyde – are a strong candidate for that category.
Earnscleugh Station’s Fan Palm Pair
Source: Spain, Stephen Thomas, 1862-1940. Earnscleugh Station homestead. Moore, Robert Percy, 1881-1948 :Panoramic photographs of New Zealand. Ref: Pan-1859-F. Alexander Turnbull Library, Wellington, New Zealand. /records/33821129
This photo is one among many of the Moore collection in the National Library that is dated 1923-1928, which turns out to be useful because if we magnify the front-of-the-house portion of the photo we can see something of interest:
Visible as a lawn planting in the front of the house is a young palm, perhaps planted within a year or two of the photo date, meaning that circa 1925 is a reasonable planting date. That this is a palm is confirmed by a photo taken in 1948:
Two palms can actually be seen in front of the homestead,5 but again a magnification is needed to clearly see this:
Whereas I have not actually visited Earnscleugh Castle, as it is now called, I have been given access6 to several photos that wonderfully update both what the palms and the refurbished castle currently look like. Views from an aerial view, and both inside and outside the castle, are useful:
The following photo clearly shows the palms have retained the thatch on the trunk, thus strongly suggesting they are T. fortunei rather than Buxton’s other favourite fan palm, L. chinensis.
Finally some photos at ground level help give a contextual feel for the appearance of the palms alongside the now restored castle:
In this case, the pair of palms certainly don’t contribute to a Japanese themed section of the garden. Nonetheless, now at just over 100 years old and still very healthy, there is little doubt that they make a notable contribution to the overall landscape of Earnscleugh Castle. As we saw in the first photo above, Buxton was certainly very keen on the effect of a pair of palms in front of a large house, thus perhaps risking over-use, but this far south in New Zealand his landscape choice is far from hackneyed, providing a striking and key element to the now impressive garden.
Notes:
See Natalie Marshall’s The Long View which along with examples of his photographs has a fascinating description of how the National Library has gone about digitising over 2,000 of Moore’s photos. ↩︎
Obviously it is hard to distinguish the two palms from photos alone, however a useful difference is that T. fortunei tends to retain the thatch on the trunk, whereas L. chinensis tends to have a ‘naked’ trunk, something common to most palms. If a close view can be obtained the latter also has thorns on its petioles, which T. fortunei does not. ↩︎
The full title is Colonial Landscape Gardener: Alfred Buxton of Christchurch 1872-1950, Department of Horticulture and Landscape, Lincoln College, 1989. ↩︎
The homestead is incomplete in this 1948 photo. Stephen Spain – the original owner – had to close his rabbit canning factory in 1924 and the homestead was unfinished at the time of the photo. See the website of Earnscleugh Castle for details of this story and a description of the recent refurbishment and completion of the building. ↩︎
Many thanks to Marco Creemers for taking some recent photos and allowing my use of photos from the Earnscleugh Castle website gallery. ↩︎
As part of Hamilton Book Month, we are hosting authors Rachel Clare and Tryphena Cracknell, who will provide a talk on their book “Aotearoa in Bloom: The History, Culture and Practical Uses of New Zealand’s Flowers“.
This lushly illustrated book, combining photographs and historic botanical drawings, explores the history of a range of flowering plants, including their significance in te ao Māori. Subjects range from the beloved blooms of kōwhai and pōhutukawa to the lesser-known native forget-me-nots, fragrant toropapa and our many orchid species. Books will be available for sale and signing.
Thursday 13 August, 6:30 – 8:00pm, Central Court, Hamilton Gardens Pavilion, 6:30-8:00pm
$10 cash, no registration required
For further information, refer to the Aotearoa in Bloom page on the Hamilton Book Month website.
The New Zealand and South Seas International Exhibition was a major World’s Fair held in Dunedin, New Zealand, from 17 November 1925 to 1 May 1926, a total of 24 weeks.
It was a massive event that drew over three million visitors, which was more than double the country’s population at the time. The event was held on 16 acres (6.5 hectares) of reclaimed land at Logan Park, near the University of Otago, and promoted by the Otago Expansion League to boost economic and population growth in the region. The exhibition featured seven main pavilions, with industrial and government displays from Great Britain, Canada, Australia, Fiji and New Zealand, while Otago had several displays, There was the Festival Hall, a Grand Dome, an art gallery, a fernery, an aquarium, sports grounds, and a popular amusement area.
Panorama of completed site. Dunedin City Council Archives.
Along with agricultural, horticultural, educational and tourism displays, there were experimental plots from the Department of Agriculture.
The task of the laying out the gardens and organising displays was massive. This work was undertaken and overseen by David Tannock (1873-1952), the Superintendent of Reserves at the Dunedin City Council. This role also included being in charge of the Dunedin Botanic Garden.
David Tannock, Dunedin City Council Archives.
David Tannock, Superintendent of Reserves and Botanic Garden Curator 1903-1940: contribution to the exhibition.
David Tannock was chairman of the New Zealand and South Seas Exhibition Horticultural Committee and the Horticultural Week Committee.
Tannock originally proposed that the exhibition should be sited at the Dunedin Botanic Garden. His proposal suggested using the lower garden and the six-acre piece of land on the other side of Great King Street:
‘This would provide an ‘extensive, ample, and convenient site. The art gallery could be put on the big lawn near the Great King Street entrance. The hillside would do well for entertainments and the playing fields at Opoho for sports. The Gardens were already connected to sewerage, electric light, and water. It would save the Exhibition Company money as the gardens were already laid out. That there was a good band rotunda and viewing from the hillside.
To get visitors up the hill it was hoped to have the Opoho tram running and there was already a motor road with ample parking. Visitors could be taken up the hill by the hundred with travelling stairs or lift. A simple matter he claimed. (we still don’t have any such thing)
The gardens could stay open during construction and only be closed to the general public during the exhibition. That the Glasgow exhibition was held at Kelvi Grove park and the Auckland exhibition at the Domain. (DCC Archives)
Given the numbers that attended the exhibition, maybe it was not such a bad idea to not accept this proposal. This obviously didn’t put Tannock off as he, the Dunedin City Council and Dunedin Botanic Garden, contributed a huge amount to the exhibition.
Preparing the Site, Dunedin City Council Archives
Growing the plants for the exhibition.
By late 1924 the exhibition directors had approved the Botanic Garden raising most of the plants required for the gardening decorations. Approximately 80,000 annual and herbaceous plants and 2,350 shrubs and trees were grown at the Dunedin Botanic Garden for the exhibition.
With the added production of plants for the exhibition, two new propagating houses were built and the potting shed expanded. An unseen advantage was that David Tannock took the opportunity of employing women to help with extra workload. Mary Watt, an experienced gardener from the UK, was taken especially for the propagation of plants for the exhibition.
Exhibition tree planting, with David Tannock. Dunedin City Council Archives.
As they had no way of employing women, Tannock took her on as an apprentice on the 3rd year scale. Miss Watt had contacted David Tannock late in 1924 asking for work. She was offered an apprentice to help.
As well as landscaping there was a fernery with 50 different native ferns and alpine plants. An expedition to the Garvie mountains by Tannock and others brought back over 120 species of native alpine plants for a display at the exhibition. This showed Tannock’s enthusiasm for native plants and the development of a significant native plant collection. Indeed, Tannock later wrote a book on how to make rock gardens in New Zealand using native plants.
In reports to the Exhibition committee in the middle of 1925, Tannock reported ‘That the planting of specimen trees was well under way and a large number of flowers are to be planted and that the display would be a very fine one and there would be a display of flowers at opening and right though’. (DCC Archives)
Tannock also proposed that special tree planting day should be arranged, on Arbor Day. The trees could be sourced from the city and planted in positions where they would be permanent.
Avenue tree planting. Dunedin City Council Archives.
Horticultural Week
With The Dunedin Horticultural Society, David Tannock proposed that a horticulture week be held in association with exhibition. The week consisted of the conferences for three horticultural groups, the Royal New Zealand Institute of Horticulture, the Nurserymen’s association, and parks curators. A series of lectures and a three-day flower show followed.
Three large tents were on the site of the sports ground and attracted exhibitors from both the North and South islands. There were displays from Auckland citrus growers and Otago Fruit growers.
At the end of the exhibition the area was given over to developing sports grounds and the art gallery. Avenues of trees were planted on the drive made to the art gallery.
Auckland citrus fruit display. Hocken Collections – Uare Taoka o Hākena University of Otago.
Horticulture week flower exhibition. Hocken Collections – Uare Taoka o Hākena, University of Otago.
Botanic Garden Legacy from the Exhibition.
With the pressure put on the Dunedin Botanic Garden to produce the plants, Tannock used this to have some of the features from the Exhibition allocated to the Garden.
To this day there are still a few features at the Dunedin Botanic Garden inherited from the Exhibition.
The Central Court at night with fountain. Dunedin City Council Archives.
The main feature was the Woolf Harris Fountain, the ornate Victorian-style fountain in the Lower Garden near the Herbaceous borders. The fountain, donated by Woolf Harris, was originally sited at Queens Gardens, but was removed to make way for the cenotaph. After a few years in storage, it was used as a centre piece for the main pavilion of the Exhibition before coming to the Garden.
Wolf Harris Fountain at the Botanic Garden. Dunedin Botanic Garden collection.
The James Stewart sundial in the same area by the Knot Garden also came from the exhibition, along with 160 seats that were placed above the rock garden.
In addition, James Stewart had a display in the Southland Court which later in the Exhibition got moved to the Education Court (where a sundial made by Arthur Beverley for the 1865 Exhibition was also on display, on loan from the Early Settlers’ Museum, now Toitū Settlers Museum).
James Stewart sundial at Dunedin Botanic Garden, 1935. Dunedin City Council Archives.
Legacy of the Exhibition in Dunedin Botanic Garden
There were several other buildings and features that are no longer here but were part of the garden for a long time.
The first restroom was organised by the Women’s Restroom and Creche Committee for the 1925-26 New Zealand & South Seas Exhibition, held in Dunedin. The restroom was placed near the fun park section and provided a welcome space for women and children while visiting the Exhibition. When the Exhibition was dismantled in 1926, the Women’s Committee donated the restroom to the city and it was placed in the Botanic Gardens.
All these services were paid for and run by the Women’s Restroom Committee, which also paid attendants wages, supplied uniforms for them and provided all the furniture in them. Dunedin City Council funded them annually and assisted in securing sites. (Alison Breese.)
A 1930 report outlined the services they provided.
The building from the exhibition was moved to the lower garden near the entrance way.
The Fernery at the exhibition recreated a New Zealand bush gully and included a stream and waterfall. It contained about 50 species of New Zealand ferns from the Dunedin area and many New Zealand alpines. It was about 100 ft x 60 ft in 3 spans.
Fernery under construction. Dunedin City Council Archives.
After the exhibition the Fernery was re-erected at the back of the Dunedin Botanic Garden’s winter garden. This came with fish tanks and glazed lights from the Aquarium building. By securing the fernery from the exhibition, Tannock was able to change the current fernery into a greenhouse.
The fernery from the exhibition was damaged by a snowstorm in 1939, the Oregon (framing and beams) had deteriorated, and the fernery was rebuilt using macrocarpa and turned into a single span.
Fernery walkway. Hocken Collections – Uare Taoka o Hākena, University of Otago
That, in turn, was replaced in 1962 with a building made of fiberglass, concrete and laminated wooden trusses. This building was demolished in 1989.
Playground equipment from the Exhibition was distributed around the city, with some coming to the Dunedin Botanic Garden. The playground was by the pond, then moved to behind the old aviary, and finally to its current site in late 1980s.
What became known as the Wood Museum at Dunedin Botanic Garden came from the Otago Court of the Exhibition. Slabs of timber were obtained locally to show the wide range of species that could be grown here. These samples became a teaching aid and were originally in the shed of the school garden, now the Azalea Garden, and then moved to another building in the 1930s.
Dunedin Botanic Garden trainees with wood samples from the Exhibition, 1935. Dunedin City Council Archives.
Biography
Alice has worked in horticulture most of her life and became interested in garden history while working at Government House grounds in Epsom in the 1980s. She moved to Dunedin in 1990 and started work at the Dunedin Botanic Garden soon after. She has worked in several areas of the Dunedin Botanic Garden and has been in charge of the nursery and propagation since 2001.
Sources
Hocken Collections – Uare Taoka o Hākena, University of Otago
Dunedin City Archives
The Story of the Dunedin Botanic Garden – Eric Dunlop
Southern Gardening – Louise Shaw.
Dunedin Botanic Garden Archives.
Alison Breese-How Convenient are our Conveniences? The demise of the underground facilities in Dunedin 1910-1980s.
Despite the danger of rhubarb leaves being known for over one hundred years, their consumption remains one of the most highly reported causes of poisoning by plants in New Zealand. Based on data from the New Zealand National Poisons Centre collected between 2003 and 2010, for example, rhubarb was ranked as the eighth most reported cause of poisoning by plants to its phone centre, representing 121 phone calls, of which 76% was from consumption by children.[i]
Fig. 1. “This leaf is from a huge rhubarb grown by Mr F. Alexander, 36 Normanby road, St. Kilda. It is 50 inches across and is nearly eight inches around the stalk”. Otago Daily Times, 8 February 1936, P20
The widespread use and popularity of rhubarb in Great Britain began in the early 19th Century,[ii] and its import to New Zealand likely occurred not long after. Indeed, newspaper advertisements for rhubarb in New Zealand can be found as early as 1840.[iii]
The first reports in New Zealand newspapers of death by the ingestion of rhubarb leaves came from a curious case in England in 1917. At this time, during World War I, rhubarb leaves were being recommended in Great Britain a substitute for green vegetables due to wartime shortages.[iv]
Here, it was reported that a Presbyterian minister, a Rev. W. R. Colville, had died in Enfield Cottage Hospital, north of London, five days after he had consumed rhubarb leaves that were “cooked as cabbage”. It was noted, contrary to previous advice, that “the public would be well advised to refrain from indulging in rhubarb leaves as a substitute for spinach or cabbage”. Poisoning by oxalic acid was suggested by the British Medical Journal as the explanation of cases of poisoning from eating rhubarb leaves.[v],[vi]
News continued to filter through to New Zealand on this case. At the inquest, it was reported, expert opinion on the dangers of using rhubarb leaves as a food was provided by Mr J. Webster, a pathological chemist and assistant analyst to the Home Office, who presented an analysis of the rhubarb leaves taken from the same ground as those from which the deceased ate, which showed that oxalic acid was present. Dr Spilsbury, who made the post-mortem, found fatty degeneration of the heart and liver, apparently due to poison. Death was thus concluded to be due to poisoning from the oxalic acid contained in the leaves. The coroner, a Mr Forbes, said the case was important, because people economising on food were using food substitutes: “If using rhubarb leaves involved risk, the public should know it, and the present inquiry should be given the fullest publicity. Considerable harm had been caused by advising the people to eat rhubarb leaves”. However, “Nothing need prevent the use of stalks as fruit”.[vii]
Overall, this report was among the first to provide an appreciation of the dangers of eating rhubarb leaves in Great Britain, and among the colonies. Nevertheless, prior to this, a number of illnesses and deaths had been reported in New Zealand relating to consumption of rhubarb, some of which may ultimately have been the result of oxalic acid via consumption of the foliage. In particular, a series of 1885 articles concerned a boy “who had died at Oamaru from poisoning resulting from eating green rhubarb tops”.[viii]
Here, it was reported that a “boy, aged eight years, died suddenly on Sunday morning. An inquest was held today, at which the medical evidence gave the cause of death as poisoning. It appears that the boy had eaten green rhubarb tops on Saturday last, and on Saturday night and Sunday morning was taken ill with vomiting and purging. The post mortem examination revealed the fact that the irritation caused by eating the rhubarb had brought about congestion of the brain”.[ix] At this time, the effects were thought to be because the “rhubarb tops… had been lying on a galvanised iron roof for some time, and were slightly decayed”[x]
Regular stories of rhubarb poisoning in New Zealand continued from there, though not always linked to consumption of leaves. Often, illness was put down to improper preservation. In 1872, for example, it was reported that “A family in Greytown had a narrow escape from poisoning from eating preserved rhubarb. Severe symptoms for a time existed, but ultimately they recovered under the care of Dr Welch”. The newspaper noted, “It is remarkable how people will persist in eating imported preserves of any kind, when, by a trifling expenditure of money and labor [sic], they can produce a much superior article. Extreme care should always be taken that the part next the tin be not eaten. The acid of preserves dissolves the tin, producing in some cases a deadly poison”.[xi]
A similar story emerged in 1878: “A singular case of fruit poisoning came under our notice a few days ago!”, exclaimed the Thames Advertiser. “A family were enjoying a pie made of rhubarb which had been preserved in tins, when they commenced to feel very sick, and afterwards vomiting ensued. An inquiry into the cause of the sickness resulted in one of the members of the family taking up the tin and finding that some of it was crusted over with rust, the acid having eaten away the tin, which was in solution, causing the sickness. The attack was a very severe one, and continued for the space of an hour, not ceasing until, by the aid of emetics, the poisoned fruit had been removed”.[xii]
In 1898, a serious case of poisoning was reported, affecting six Auckland residents. There, “an elderly couple named Mr and Mrs Colvin, their son Thomas Colvin, aged 20 years, a married daughter named Mrs Page, and two grandchildren, were all taken so seriously ill that Dr. Lewis was sent for”. It was determined that the family were suffering from “ptomaine poisoning” [xiii] – a now obsolete term relating to food poisoning caused by bacteria or their toxins. An investigation by a Dr Lewis indicated that the illness was due to a rhubarb pie that had been kept in a ‘close safe’ near the fireplace, which had fermented.[xiv] Thankfully, all of the family completely recovered.[xv]
While other similar stories exist, a large amount of coverage and correspondence was given to a major food poisoning case in Christchurch following the consumption of rhubarb in 1968, which suggested that some of the previous cases of food poisoning may have actually been the result of consuming oxalic acid from the leaves.
There, the Health Department reported 126 cases of food poisoning in one week, with rhubarb blamed for most of them: “…120 adults at an institution suffered from food poisoning in which the food eaten in common was rhubarb”. Symptoms including nausea, vomiting and diarrhoea. A Mr Snoad, the supervising district inspector of health, noted that the “green leaves and any green portions of the stalks of rhubarb normally contain oxalic acid which is toxic and would cause these symptoms If consumed”, indicating he believed that he may have thought consumption of the foliage may have been the cause. However, he broadened the possibility by stating, “Also it is thought by some people that ‘first-of-the-season’ rhubarb tends to be somewhat of an irritant of which too much should not be eaten”. The report was clear with caution, stating that, “When preparing rhubarb always discard the leaves and green portions of the stalks. The red portions of the stalks are quite safe to cook and eat in moderation.”[xvi]Indeed, following tests, Mr Snoad stated that although the result of the analysis of the only sample available was not as clear as he had hoped it would be, it pointed strongly to oxalic acid as the cause. He reiterated at this point that “people should not eat the green parts of rhubarb stalks, nor use the leaves as a substitute for spinach”.[xvii]
Being such a notable event, much correspondence followed in Christchurch newspaper, The Press.
An Isabella C. Brown wrote to say that she was “surprised to learn that many Christchurch people have been suffering from food poisoning after eating rhubarb”. She believed that most people would be aware that the veins and leaves of rhubarb contain oxalic acid, and she had thus never before heard of anyone being poisoned by eating them. Her main concern, however, appeared to have been of the danger of potatoes: “instead of being sold in paper bags or other safe containers all potatoes are now sold in transparent plastic bags, fully exposed to the light. I have no doubt that many other cases of food poisoning could be traced to eating green potatoes. The practice of storing them in plastic bags should be discontinued”. The Medical Officer of Health, Dr L. F. Jepson, however, responded that they did not “consider the packing of potatoes in plastic bags hazardous”.[xviii]
This was followed soon after by correspondence from someone using the moniker “Rhubarb”, concerned by the negative publicity from the recent press: “Because of the adverse publicity given rhubarb recently after cases of poisoning, our sales of spring rhubarb, on which we usually depend for our rates money, have been severely cut down. We would like to have it made clear that, provided rhubarb is cooked properly —without using any of the green leaf—it is quite safe and will incur no risk of poisoning.[xix]
Further correspondence followed, including a theory by “No Sago” that the poisoning had possibly been caused by the consumption of the combination of rhubarb and sago.[xx] E. D. P., in response, responded that “During World War I rhubarb leaves were freely used as spinach. However, there were some cases of poisoning and the public were warned not to use baking soda (sodium bicarbonate), as the addition made the leaves poisonous”. They pondered, “As far as rhubarb and sago are concerned, I often cook both together, as for apple sago, and it makes a pleasant dish. It has never upset any of us. Is it possible that “No Sago” could have confused soda with sago?”[xxi]
These continued communications worried some. “Not Indisposed” wrote, “As you may be aware considerable correspondence has ensued after the recent case of rhubarb poisoning. I have failed to note any replies or statements on the matter by more competent authorities and wonder if you could perhaps discuss this aspect in your column as it would undoubtedly make the position clearer to many of us, including myself, who grow or buy and consume it”.[xxii]
The Press reminded the readers at this point that, indeed, the “Christchurch Health Department issued a statement on the matter shortly after the incident occurred which I think should have quelled any misgivings about rhubarb”, adding, “Dr Connor, in his publication “Poisonous Plants in New Zealand,” states that “the leaf stalks of rhubarb are edible but care must be taken not to include the leaves”.[xxiii] And, with a sense of finality, followed with, “[This correspondence is now closed.—Ed., “The Press.”].” [xxiv]
References
[i] Slaughter, R.J., Michael, D., Beasley, G., Lambie, B.S., Wilkins, G.T. & Schep, L.J. (2012). Poisonous plants in New Zealand: a review of those that are most commonly enquired about to the National Poisons Centre. New Zealand Journal of Medicine 125: 87-118.
[ii] Foust, C.M. & Marshall, D.E. (1991). Culinary Rhubarb Production in North America: History and Recent Statistics. HortScience 26:1360-1363.
[iii] New Zealand Advertiser and Bay of Islands Gazette, 3 September 1840, P2
In our first Podcast, James Beattie talks with Karen Jones on a cold autumnal New Zealand evening and her bright spring English morning. Karen is Professor of Environmental and Cultural History at the University of Kent, UK, and has a distinguished career as a teacher, editor and writing on a variety of topics.
With John Wills, Karen has written The Invention of the Park(Polity Press, 2005), which overviews the idea of the park from the Garden of Eden to Disneyland and beyond. She has also written works which have reshaped our understandings about animals and parks: Wolf Mountains: The History of Wolves Along the Great Divide (University of Calgray Press, 2002) provided a comparative study of the biology, mythology and culture surrounding wolves in national parks in the Rocky Mountains. As well as studies of firearms, and works on hunting and photography, Karen has written the award-winning work on Calamity: The Many Lives of Calamity Jane, published by Yale University Press in 2020. Most recently she has completed Beastly Britain: An Animal History, also by Yale University Press, published in 2025. As well as writing, Karen was editor of the prestigious journal, Environment and History for some ten years.
Please note the views and opinions expressed in the podcast are the individuals’ involved, and do not represent their institutions’.
Clare Gleeson (author of The Fairer Side of Buxton: Alfred Buxton’s Gardens and the Women Who Loved Them, The Cuba Press)
Alfred Buxton created gardens throughout much of New Zealand, as far south as Invercargill and as far north as the Waikato. During my research for The Fairer Side of Buxton: Alfred Buxton’s Gardens and the Women who Loved Them, I compiled a spreadsheet of all the Buxton gardens I discovered and was staggered at the number involved. With the earliest of these gardens created over 120 years ago, many no longer survive and those that do are generally significantly altered from their original design.
Buxton’s plan for Beaumaris, home of the Taylor family, Wairarapa. Credit: Taylor family
Since my book was published I have spoken to several garden clubs and horticultural societies and as a result have been made aware of additional Buxton gardens – some current owners or descendants of past owners even have the original plans! Other people have asked me if a particular property had a Buxton garden, or if a forebear commissioned one.
As I believe it is important that a complete register be kept of gardens created by such a significant figure in New Zealand’s horticultural history, I have built a publicly accessible directory of gardens created by Alfred Buxton at alfredbuxton.com. Gardens are listed within geographical divisions by the name of property, or who owned it if the property did not have a name, its location, who commissioned the garden and the date. The website has a search function so it’s easy to find the garden or person the user is looking for. A comprehensive list of Buxton gardens is an important part of New Zealand’s garden history and for this reason I ask anyone noticing any errors or omissions to contact me so the directory can be as accurate as possible.
Screenshot from the ‘Alfred Buxton’s Gardens’ website, April 2026
Source: ‘Wellington from the air, 1930‘, F. Douglas Mill Collection, Auckland Libraries Heritage Collections FDM-0570-G
The photo above shows part of the Miramar Peninsula, Wellington. If you fly into Wellington when a southerly is blowing, you’ll be just above the strip of water with the land to your left.
Struthers1 reports that the name ‘Miramar’ was adopted in 1870 by J. Crawford, a major European landholder, in reference to the Italian ‘mira mare’, meaning ‘behold (or wonder at) the sea’ and the supposed likeness of the area to the Gulf of Trieste where there was a ‘Castle of Miramar’. Clearly though, as the photo shows, in 1930 the Miramar Peninsula did not have the established tree life we would associate with an old castle on the Italian coast. However, this was about to change, particularly here in the area enlarged from the photo:
The very wide road running south to north is Park Rd, which is crossed by Miramar Ave. A branch of the Wellington tram system ran up Park Rd, past a main shopping area, including the Roxy Cinema (the large building to the left of the intersection).
On the 16th of January, 1931, it was reported that in these streets of ‘noble width’ a start had been made in local beautification. Pohutukawa trees were planted, and these being a ‘fairly fast grower … these streets will gain considerably in picturesque aspect in a few years’.2 Indeed this proved to be the case, and the popularity of the pohutukawa as a street tree spread within a few years to nearby streets of less ‘noble width’. Within the area considered to be central Miramar, and not including planting in parks, Para St, Chelsea St, Brussels St, Rex St, Weka St, and Rotherham Tce all had pohutukawa planted as street trees. Miramar Avenue alone has a total of 67, and there is little doubt that the sum total planted would be well over 300. As I have written elsewhere Wellington is very much a ‘Pohutukawa Town’, even though the tree is not endemic to the area. They certainly flourish near the sea, which Wellington in surrounded by, and also seem able to tolerate Wellington’s notoriously strong winds. The numbers above clearly suggest that within Wellington, no other area can challenge Miramar as the leading ‘Pohutukawa Suburb’.
The Miramar Avenue pohutukawas are particularly noticeable because they are planted on both sides of the road, but it is useful to start with a single tree visible in an historic photo from 1978 as this provides a good point of comparison to realise the rate of growth. The photo shows the Church of the Holy Cross with an already decent-sized pohutukawa in front of it:
The church is not visible in the aerial photo above as it was not opened until September 1961, but it is located at the intersection where the tram route slightly curves from Hobart St into Park Rd. The overhead lines visible here are for electric trolley buses, as the Miramar electric tram route was discontinued in 1957.3 A photo from April 2026 shows us how much the pohutukawa has grown:
The useful internet resource Wellington Urban Tree Explorer measures the tree, in 2020, at 12.3 metres high and 9.03 in diameter. Sadly, the Holy Cross Church ceased being used in September 2024 due to earthquake damage and water-tightness issues, and its future is currently undecided.4
Proceeding eastward on Miramar Ave we can see there are many more pohutukawa of similar size:
The trees have the typical feature of often being wider than they are tall, and while the photos don’t do justice to the reality, there is very much an effect of travelling through a tunnel of pohutukawa. Unfortunately, the photos were not taken during flowering – usually December to January – when the visual impact is even more pronounced.
I don’t live in Miramar so have little idea of the range of local attitudes towards the trees, however, some visual and other evidence can be marshalled on this. As noted, pohutukawa have been planted in Brussels St, but interestingly a newspaper article suggests that by 1951 when they were planted, not everyone was thrilled with them:
Source: Evening Post, 4 September, 1951, p. 9
The article does not mention that the trees were pohutukawa, but recent photos establish that they were:
The layout of the road has probably changed since 1951. We can see here that recently the council has made considerable effort to accommodate both the trees and spaces for car parking. Pohutukawa seem well-suited to such street tree planting, and we can see a further advantage of them just around the corner in Park Rd, which is the very wide road where part of the original 1931 planting occurred:
The photo to the left shows how a pohutukawa can be pruned, effectively with a ‘flat half’, to avoid power lines without destroying its visual impact. Fortuitously, while I was photographing, I came across a lines company in the act of line maintenance, and the photo to the right again shows how the structural features of the tree allow space to be made for overhead lines. Not all trees would so readily admit such pruning, nor retain their aesthetic features afterwards.
Of course, sometimes the roots of the trees cause unevenness to foopaths, as these final two photos show:
Nevertheless, given that the trees we are looking at here are 95 years of age, surely such disruption is a small price to pay for the undoubted collective effect of the Miramar pohutukawas.
References:
John Struthers, 1975, Miramar Peninsula: Ahistorical and social study , (self published). ↩︎
‘Decorative streets. A start at Miramar’, The Dominion, 16 January, 1931, p. 3 ↩︎
This talk will examine the social and political history behind one of Canterbury province’s most famous gardens at Riccarton House, Christchurch. Nineteenth-century rebel gardener Jane Deans used her garden as a giant canvas in order to create “my masterpiece in the art of planting, and my memorial as a Scotswoman”. Her garden was not just a beautiful piece of landscaping but a political critique of the prevailing social and power structures of colonial Christchurch. Through her planting she channeled not only creativity and horticultural knowledge but a biting satirical wit that challenged the very founding myths of Canterbury and elite control of church and state.
Brought to you by Garden History Research Foundation:
Event 1:The inaugural Marilyn Yeoman Memorial Talk, 2026: “The Medieval Cloister Garden: A Vision of Paradise“
A talk by international expert Dr Annette Giesecke.
Followed by:
Event 2: Behind-the-scenes of Hamilton Gardens’ Medieval Garden.
Exclusive tour of the new gardens by Hamilton Gardens Director, Lucy Ryan.
Details: 13 February 2026, 4.30 to around 6.00 p.m.
Pīwakawaka Room, Hamilton Gardens (for talk; followed by tour)
Entry $20 waged; $10 unwaged for both events — please bring cash & walking shoes
Event 1: “The Marilyn Yeoman Memorial Talk 2026: The Medieval Cloister Garden: A Vision of Paradise” by Dr Annette Giesecke
To mark the inaugural Marilyn Yeoman Memorial Talk, Dr Annette Giesecke will give an illustrated lecture tracing the history and symbolism of the medieval cloister garden from the desert oases of Persia and villa gardens of Roman emperors in antiquity to monastic cloisters in the Middle Ages.
Dr Annette Giesecke is a specialist in the history, meaning, and representation of gardens and designed landscapes. Her work extends to domestic architecture and décor in the ancient Mediterranean world, the influence of Middle Eastern garden traditions on those of the West, and the many cultural ‘uses’ of plants in antiquity: symbolic, religious, culinary, medicinal, ornamental, and technological included.
Event 2: Guided, Behind-the Scenes-Tour of Hamilton Gardens’ Medieval Garden
This will be led by Lucy Ryan, Director of Hamilton Gardens, who has an esteemed career in museum and heritage studies, which includes working at Museum of New Zealand Te Papa Tongarewa as well as Auckland Museum. She has been Director of Hamilton Gardens since 2021.
The Garden History Research Foundation 