I found an extraordinary account of travelling from Christchurch to Waimate, with a stop at Captain Woollcombe's home in Timaru while following a trail of names through early Timaru history, trying to learn more about Herbert Belfield and his connection to Captain Belfield Woollcombe.
That search led me to a interesting newspaper article published in the Timaru Herald on 11 June 1914. It describes a journey made 54 years earlier, in May 1860, when roads were little more than bullock tracks and crossing a river could be a frightening experience...
I had been looking for information about one man, but found myself drawn into a woman's account of travelling through South Canterbury. The article was headed What Women Braved. It was taken from a record written for the traveller's descendants, and described her journey from Christchurch to her new home at Waimate.
Although the newspaper did not name her, I have since found that the traveller was Effie Studholme, née Channon. She had married Michael Studholme on 18 April 1860. Their son, Edgar Channon Studholme, later included her privately published Reminiscences of 1860 in his 1940 book, Te Waimate: Early Station Life in New Zealand.
Effie and Michael made the journey on horseback. Their belongings were sent by sea, while their servants and household goods were to follow. Along the way they stayed at accommodation houses, crossed rivers and visited some of the families who were establishing homes and farms across Canterbury.
Effie described the discomforts plainly... there was bad food, miserable weather, dangerous river crossings and the worry of arriving at an unfamiliar home. There were also generous hosts, beautiful mountain views, and moments of humour. It is her descriptions of Timaru that particularly interest me.
A night at Waimataitai
On 24 May 1860, Queen Victoria's birthday, Effie and Michael arrived at Captain Woollcombe's home at Waimataitai, where they stayed overnight.
She recalled being warmly welcomed by Woollcombe and his cousin, Mr Belfield.
This is a particularly useful clue for my research. Another historical account, Letters from New Zealand, 1857–1911, identifies Captain Woollcombe's cousin as Herbert Belfield.
That gives us evidence placing Herbert at Waimataitai on 24 May 1860. It does not establish precisely when he arrived in Timaru, or whether he followed his cousin here, but it gives me another piece of the puzzle.
The following morning, Effie walked through Woollcombe's garden, admired the gum trees and was given cuttings from the jessamine growing around his house.
I love these little details. We learn something about the people, their hospitality, what they were growing, and what mattered to visitors at the time.
Seeing Timaru through her eyes
Effie's account also offers a remarkable description of Timaru before the town developed into the streets and neighbourhoods we know today.
She remembered the lagoon below Mr LeCren's house, Beverley, the Royal Hotel, the stores near the beach, the Rhodes brothers' woolshed and the small number of buildings she passed.
She described the water supply, the tracks along the coast, the difficulty of crossing Pig Hunting Creek and the journey south towards Pareora.
Further along the way she recorded encounters with people at Arowhenua, Makikihi, Deep Creek and other places that are still familiar to us.
These recollections were written from the perspective of a European settler. They are valuable evidence of what Effie saw and experienced, rather than a complete account of the communities and landscapes through which she travelled.
What interests me is how much can be discovered from one person's description of a journey. A name, a house, a garden, a river crossing or a passing conversation can lead to another line of research.
Below is the newspaper article as published in 1914.
Original newspaper article — 11 June 1914
The following is a transcription of the article printed in the Timaru Herald.
WHAT WOMEN BRAVED.
AN ARDUOUS JOURNEY.
CHRISTCHURCH TO WAIMATE
WHEN ROADS WERE NOT.
By the kindness of a very old settler of South Canterbury we are enabled to make the following extracts from a record, written for her descendants, of a lady's first visit with her husband to the Waimate district:—
A few days later (in May 1860)—having packed all our belongings to go to Timaru by sea, and sending on our married couple with general goods, we started on our long ride from Christchurch to Waimate. The weather had cleared and was lovely, but cold mornings and evenings. M— had some clothes, etc., in his saddle bags, and I had in my swag that fastened on to the off-side of my saddle by "Tess," a dress, skirt, and change, etc., and a "house-wife," with scissors. Well it was that I had them, as will be seen later.
We left at mid-day, on or about May 8, and got as far as Gigg's accommodation house at the Selwyn that night. A very poor place to stay at—bad food, salt beef, and soda scones only, and no firing but "wild Irishman," which blazed up and scorched one for five minutes and then died down in ashes. The next day we rode on to Hororata, where we arrived at noon, very hungry. The manager showed us round next day, and the day after we rode up to Rockwood. Here lived old Mr and Mrs Phillips—and numerous sons. We spent two delightful days there, and then went on to the Rakaia. The accommodation house there was kept by a notable woman—Mrs Dunsford, a "rough diamond," used to cope with the roughest class of bullock drivers. Here we stayed one night, then on to Orari. The Rakaia happened to be low, so I was able to cross its many streams without getting wet, and the bottom being sandy made it easy.
CROSSING THE RANGITATA. A TASK FOR THE BRAVE.
The ride over the plains was monotonous, and seemed endless, between the Rakaia and Rangitata rivers. The day was bright and the view of the mountains charming. We reached the Rangitata early in the afternoon. When I saw the river and its rough bed and large boulders, over which the water roared, I was filled with alarm and declared I could not cross it. M— pointed out to me that to go round to the upper ferry would make it impossible to reach Orari Station that night, and the house at the ferry was almost impossible for me, bullock drivers being the usual occupants. But he said if I really felt incapable of crossing we must go up. It was about nine miles further round. However, as he assured me Cadmus was a good river horse, I braced myself to cross where we were.
The boulders were sometimes so large that the horse appeared to clamber up and then plunge down. All I could do was to sit tight. At the deepest stream I was terribly afraid. The noise of the water, its swift current, and the plunging of the horse made it truly fearful. With, it seemed to me, a wild plunge from the horse I suddenly found myself out of the noise and recovering my senses, for I was quite dazed. At that time the Rangitata ran in one bed, and all the volume of water made a deep and wide stream and many smaller ones. By holding my leg up I was just able to keep my foot out of the water. We got off our horses and rested a little while, while I recovered my equanimity, then on over the tussock plains to Mr J. K. Macdonald's, at Orari, where we received the kindest of welcomes.
We started early next day for Timaru, getting lunch at Arowhenua, where at that time there was some bush and a rather large Maori pa. This was often visited by the Waimate Maoris, and as we passed M— was hailed by one with "Allo—, you got a wahine?" upon which we pulled up, and "te wahine"—myself—was duly introduced to a laughing trio of men, who invited us to go to their whare, but we declined on the score of no time to stay.
AT TIMARU.
So on to Timaru. There were some bad creeks to cross, notably that at the Washdyke. The crossing was a terror to me as the bottom was soft, and our horses would plunge in and out. It must be remembered there was no made road—only the bullock track. The "Levels," where lived Mr and Mrs George Rhodes, was away to our right, and as far as I can remember there was no other house between Arowhenua and Timaru. It was nearly dark when we came to Mr Woollcombe's at Waimataitai, where we were to stay the night. This was the 24th May, the Queen's birthday. Mr Woollcombe and his cousin, Mr Belfield, received us very warmly, and we spent a pleasant evening. Next morning was dull and cloudy—rain near. We walked round the garden and admired the growth of the gum trees, then thought much of, and which were the only trees, except natives, in South Canterbury. It was a year or two later before the Californian seeds were obtainable in Christchurch; there were of course English trees already growing, but as yet no park. Mr Woollcombe gave me some cuttings from his jessamine that was already growing luxuriantly on his house.
We started about 10 a.m. on May 25 for our last day's journey. I had no overcoat, so Mr Woollcombe lent me one of his in case the rain came on. Very big and heavy it was; there were no light overcoats in those days. Timaru was at that time very sparsely populated. Mr LeCren's house, "Beverley," was a small one-storeyed building with a few trees about it, and below it, along the gully, was a lagoon into which the sea broke at high tide, and left quite a large pool of stagnant water.
The downs were clothed with tussock and flax and cabbage trees. The track was well defined, as the drays from the Levels brought wool and took all stores along it from the beach, where stood a large woolshed belonging to the Rhodes Brothers—W.B., R.H., and G. As we rode along from Waimataitai we passed Mr LeCren's house on the hill, and beyond it a few smaller ones, and then on to the Royal Hotel, opposite which stood Messrs LeCren and Co's store and some other small buildings.
We inquired at the hotel for letters and news, and found that our baggage had not yet arrived, but that the schooner was expected from Lyttelton any time. We made arrangements for our servants, our couple and housemaid, to be lodged until the bullock dray came for them. Then on we rode by a less well developed track southward, passing a smithy and scattered small houses for a short way, also a lagoon. This was almost the only water supply that Timaru had at the time, except rain water and a well at the Royal, from which all near drew their supply, and the water was not good.
BY THE BEACH, SOUTH.
A short way out from Timaru the track turned off to the cliff, all the gullies being too soft and in a natural state. A cutting had been made for the drays on to the beach. The "Pig Hunting Creek" was rather difficult, as we had to watch the wave and seize the moment when it receded to cross. There was a considerable volume of water in this creek, which remained for several years a formidable obstacle in driving. To our right the downs ran up to the hills, Mount Horrible and Mount Misery, so called by the surveyor, or someone having to spend a wretched night when lost on them. Riding on we came to the Pareora river, owned by Messrs Harris and Innes, and on the south side of it to Butterworth's refreshment house, a small sod whare that had formerly been their homestead. It was now raining rather heavily, and we stayed for a short time and had some tea and scones; then, donning Mr Woollcombe's overcoat, I mounted, and we started on our way.
It proved a most uncomfortable ride. The rain came down in sheets, no view could be had, all was misty, and only the muddy track visible. Coming to the Otaio we crossed it, and M— pointed out the track up a valley to the right, leading to the homestead of Thompson Brothers. These three young men lived with their aunt and uncle, Mr and Mrs Collier, an old lady the owner, who had come over from Australia and settled here with her nephews, Leslie, James, and Andrew Thompson. There was also, nearer the Hunters Hills, a Mr Francis, whom the Thompson brothers afterwards bought out. Bluecliffs was at this time owned by Messrs Poingdestre and Groom.
So we rode on and came to Makikihi, where stood a little accommodation whare kept by a man named O'Keefe, an old soldier. It was closed, no one being there, so we did not draw rein. Shortly after we came to the boundary of the Waimate run, owned by the Studholme Brothers. There was of course nothing to mark it but a creek bed. The day was a very rough one—wind and rain, with sleet showers as a change. But M—'s spirits did not fail. His was a cheerful soul, and his memory was so good that he could recite many of Scott's poems. The quantity of cabbage trees all over the country was wonderful. Downs particularly were covered with them. Rounding the downs near Deep Creek was slippery work. We then came to David Smith's accommodation house, near Deep Creek bridge. Here we dismounted. Mrs Smith, a rough but kindly woman, received us with many welcomes, and insisted on our taking what she called, "a cup of welcome"—something hot—and horrible. I was not sorry when we remounted and rode off, as some men were now coming in, and the room seemed hot and disagreeable.
ARRIVAL AT WAIMATE. A FORLORN EXPERIENCE.
By this time all the dray tracks were filled with water, with here and there a hole where a wheel had been dug out. Into these we slipped and squashed, and got bespattered with mud up to our eyes. I began to feel like weeping, so wretchedly wet and cold was I, and so disappointing it was to have no view of our home. Indeed, until we reached it all was a blank of mist and rain. We rode past a sod hut, which M— told me was that of a bullock-driver named Gregson, and his wife and family of two daughters. This was the only house in view, and was on the site of the future town of Waimate. There were, he told me, another white man—Sam Shrives—and his wife nearer the bush.
We passed close to a point of the bush where was an empty bark hut belonging to Harris and Innes, and used by their drivers when they came for timber, the Waimate bush being the only one nearer than Arowhenua. So we came to the Waimate river, not yet risen, most fortunately for us, as the next day it was in flood. By this time I was almost exhausted, and had a bad headache. M— rallied me and held out hope of a good fire and a change of clothes, and just as I felt we could go no further, he exclaimed, "Here we are," and, looking up, there were some trees and the shadow of a house through the mist. We put on a spurt, and our horses gladly responded at the thought of a stable so near. We stopped. Dogs barked, a man rushed out of the old hut with many exclamations. We turned back to the unfinished house. M— took me off my horse, and so we arrived home, and I got warm before the fire of totara that sparkled and snapped out its heat. It seemed that M—'s letter had not reached J—L—, so we were not expected. Had it been fine weather the dray was to have gone to Timaru this day of our arrival.
In the morning when I awoke I heard the roaring of water and sounds of pouring rain. The roaring was of the Gorge Creek, which at that time flowed close to the house, and the little garden creek was also a torrent. This break in the weather was the beginning of three months of bad weather, with almost continuous rain and storms of wind. It was the break after a particularly fine spring and summer. The outlook from the verandah of our unfinished house was not cheering. Water everywhere, pouring through the flax and tussock that grew right up to the house. The Gorge Creek dominated everything, helped by the little garden creek. The long line of the Waimate bush was just visible through the rain, but no hills beyond could be seen. M— cheered me by assuring me the "southerly buster" would clear off on or after the third day. This really happened, for on that day the rain cleared for a while, and we went for a walk along the hill that is now the Park road to a small lagoon, where, said M—, "we will get a pair of ducks; there are always some there." At that time there was plenty of manuka growing about that part of the place; clumps were cut down for various purposes. The flax and cabbage trees were thick and "wild Irishman" very close together. And tussocks large, and snow grass larger, also Spaniards, all so wild, and tangled except on the bullock track. There the bullocks had tramped it flat. Well it was that we both had a strong sense of the ludicrous, so many queer situations and events happened in those days. Life was indeed most monotonous—nothing to mark the days, no church nearer than Timaru. Still Sunday was carefully observed, and "plum duff" on that day was the rule. Owing to the bad weather two weeks passed before I was able to ride out over the run with M—, no one coming during that time.
The postman, Baines, was the first visitor, and a very welcome one. He rode, and led a horse, whereon the mail was carried in large leather bags. Our house was the post office of the district, and remained so until the year 1864, when the mail was, I think, left at Manchester's store.
THE FIRST POSTMAN.
Baines was a fund of gossip. He took up his quarters at the "cuddy," in which he was quite at home, having lived there with M— in the capacity of cook, etc. He was a man of some education, and good company, and as he at this time brought a fortnightly mail we were kept well up in Canterbury news. His stops were:—Christchurch to Rakaia, staying at Mr Chapman's station; thence to Orari, Mr Macdonald's; next to Timaru, staying at the Royal; then on to us, where he stayed the night; next day to Waitaki, where was a ferry kept by one Dan Brown. Usually he returned to us the same day, if the Waitaki river was passable easily. Thus he brought news and letters from both north and south. Returning, he stayed one night, and got back to Christchurch in the same order as in coming south. He took great pride in "getting through," and often had narrow escapes in crossing swollen rivers and creeks.
June came to an end, and it was my first month at home. This being the dead of winter, and that a wet one, few travellers were on the road, and no stock could be driven. Towards the end of June we heard that our servants were in Timaru. At last our servants came by Gregson's dray. All were new arrivals from Home and absolutely inexperienced. Fortunately, I had been taught how to make bread and butter, and to cook, and manage a house. All were willing to learn, and we got on well. Still our luggage did not arrive. Miles and Co. wrote telling M— that "through some mischance it was still in their store at Lyttelton, but would be sent on the first opportunity"—which was not until August. My dress was shabby in the extreme. M— decided to go to Timaru, and buy me some stuff for another, at the stores of Messrs LeCren and Co., who were general agents. He rode out, and after three days brought me back a rather nice one of some brown stuff, with pieces for a waist, and flounces, with a magenta border—not so bad as it sounds. I had given him a list of other necessaries. So at last I had some work to do.
GROWTH OF TOWNSHIP.
By 1866, the record states:—We had now quite a nice little township. Manchester and Goldsmith had a store built at the corner of the road, and we had a few other stores about, a blacksmith's shop, etc. This made it look like the beginning of a town. In 1871 there is nothing to write about, except that the township of Waimate was beginning to show. Mr Manchester had built and furnished a store in High Street, and a blacksmith's shop, Mr Willis's, was built in John Street.
A small clue in a much bigger story
Reading Effie's account, I kept stopping at familiar names and places. Waimataitai. Washdyke. Arowhenua. The Royal Hotel. Beverley. Pig Hunting Creek. Pareora. Makikihi. Deep Creek. It is one thing to read about early settlement and another to hear someone describe making the journey herself, frightened at the Rangitata, soaked by the weather, grateful for a cup of tea, and looking forward to a warm fire at the end.
I was particularly struck by the descriptions of the landscape before the roads, buildings and trees we know today. Even the jessamine cuttings given to Effie by Captain Woollcombe caught my attention. There are all sorts of ways people and places are connected, and not all of them appear in official records.
And then there is Herbert Belfield... I am facinated by him. I started this search wanting to know more about him. I now have a dated recollection placing him at Captain Woollcombe's home on 24 May 1860, and another source that identifies the relationship between the two men. What I still want to establish is exactly when Herbert arrived in Timaru, and whether his cousin's presence here influenced his decision to come.
One question has led to another, as it so often does when I'm digging into local history... in the meantime, I am glad Effie's account survived. She wrote about far more than the journey itself. Her descriptions help us picture a changing landscape, the people she met and some of the everyday challenges of making a home in South Canterbury.
Sources and acknowledgement
Original newspaper article: “What Women Braved”, Timaru Herald, 11 June 1914, page 7 (Supplement), digitised by Papers Past, National Library of New Zealand.
Identification of Effie Studholme: Edgar Channon Studholme, Te Waimate: Early Station Life in New Zealand (1940), especially the chapters on Effie Channon and her marriage to Michael Studholme. Read through Papers Past.
Identification of Herbert Belfield as Woollcombe's cousin: Letters from New Zealand, 1857–1911, Letter XIII, dated 20 February 1876. Read the letter.
Copyright: The Timaru Herald is identified by Papers Past as copyright Stuff Ltd. This historical newspaper transcription is reproduced for non-commercial heritage research under the Creative Commons Attribution–NonCommercial–ShareAlike 4.0 International licence. Changes to presentation are described above. The original article and its transcription are distinguished from the independently written research and commentary accompanying them.