{"id":1865,"date":"2020-05-04T05:12:40","date_gmt":"2020-05-04T05:12:40","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/blogs.otago.ac.nz\/thehockenblog\/?p=1865"},"modified":"2020-09-15T22:33:20","modified_gmt":"2020-09-15T22:33:20","slug":"dunedins-hermit-of-flagstaff","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/blogs.otago.ac.nz\/thehockenblog\/dunedins-hermit-of-flagstaff\/","title":{"rendered":"Dunedin\u2019s Hermit of Flagstaff"},"content":{"rendered":"
\"\"
Ben Rudd, Flagstaff (1924). Rudd outside his stone cottage. Hocken Collections Uare Taoka o H\u0101kena, P1997-155\/04-0738-001.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Post researched and written by Jennie Henderson, Hocken Collections Assistant.<\/p>\n

Many of us may be feeling a bit hermit-like during New Zealand\u2019s Covid-19 lockdown, but we are not Dunedin\u2019s first hermits!\u00a0 100 years ago, Dunedin resident Ben Rudd earned the nickname \u2018The Hermit of Flagstaff\u2019 with his reclusive habits.<\/p>\n

Benjamin Rudd (1854-1930) was born in England, and came to Dunedin after completing a gardening apprenticeship. He worked in Dunedin as a gardener for many years, and lived on two farm properties on the slopes of Flagstaff. When he wasn\u2019t working in town, and after his retirement from gardening, Rudd poured all his efforts into his farm \u2013 laboriously building stone fences and his hut by hand, developing extensive gardens, and lovingly caring for his animals.[1]<\/a><\/p>\n

\"\"
In this section of W.T. Neill\u2019s 1922 map, Ben Rudd\u2019s first farm, Woodside, can be seen. Rudd sold this farm and moved back into Dunedin to work as a gardener for Peter Dawson in 1919, but returned to a new property on the northern slopes of Flagstaff after 18 months. Topographical map showing Dunedin and vicinity \/ from surveys by W.T. Neill, district surveyor, [Wellington]: N Z Lands and Survey. Sourced from LINZ. Crown Copyright reserved.<\/figcaption><\/figure>Rudd and his property were often a target of vandals, thieves and larrikins, presumably due to their isolation, and perhaps also due to Rudd\u2019s short stature and fierce responses to any threats. In the face of damage to his buildings and crops he became increasingly reclusive, suspicious of strangers, and aggressive to trespassers.<\/p>\n

Rudd\u2019s disputes with his tormentors often made it to court, and a colourful picture of these surprisingly violent encounters can be drawn from the newspaper reports. In 1886, Rudd was committed for trial for shooting at John Waldie with intent to kill.[2]<\/a> It was reported that Waldie and a friend had ridden past Rudd\u2019s property, and said to him \u201cGood morning, Uncle Ben. You\u2019re working hard\u201d. Rudd\u2019s response was to throw stones at them, and then to shoot at them, hitting Waldie and his horse. Rudd\u2019s lawyer argued that the men had teased Rudd many times, and that he had only intended to scare them with the gun. At his trial, the jury found Rudd not guilty.[3]<\/a><\/p>\n

In 1889, Rudd was found to have assaulted Susan Hornsby. When Rudd found Hornsby and her sister out walking on his land, unknowingly trespassing, he hit her on the face, grabbed her hair, and kicked her. Rudd maintained that he did not touch her, but only waved his hand near Hornsby to shoo her off his land. The court considered the charge to be proven, and Rudd was fined.[4]<\/a><\/p>\n

In 1894, Rudd was in court again for assaulting a trespasser with a hay-fork. The attending doctor reported that Edward Thomas\u2019s skull was fractured by Rudd\u2019s blow. He was fined \u00a322 and costs.[5]<\/a><\/p>\n

In 1902, during another assault trial, Rudd\u2019s defence counsel commented on the extent of the trespassing which so infuriated Rudd:<\/p>\n

\u201c\u2026practically speaking the whole of the top of Flagstaff was Rudd\u2019s\u00a0property, part of it freehold and part leased. On holidays, Saturdays, Sundays, and Wednesdays a number of persons were frequently walking through and trespassing on his ground\u2026 Considerable damage was often done to his fence and any crop he might have.\u201d[6]<\/a><\/p>\n

This frustrated a local, who wrote to the newspaper in reply:<\/p>\n

\u201c\u2026 I have heard of Rudd and his propensities, and have always carefully avoided the enclosed selection on which he lives. Outside it there are no fences; there is nothing whatever between high roads and mountain top to suggest that the land is other than common. Am I, nevertheless, liable to Rudd\u2019s pleasant attentions? \u2026 It would seem\u2026so long as Ben doesn\u2019t kick us, he may knock us about as he pleases\u2026 perhaps, he’ll strike a snag next time.\u201d[7]<\/a><\/p>\n

The judge presiding over the case acknowledged the problem of Rudd\u2019s behaviour: \u201c\u2026 it was a difficult thing to know what to do with this man, whether he should not be punished or sent to some place where he could be controlled\u201d.[8]<\/a><\/p>\n

It was a challenging situation for all involved.\u00a0 Rudd, hugely sensitive to trespass (and violent towards the trespassers) but also the target of abuse, faced frequent incursions onto his property. One such walker actually posted an apology in the paper<\/a> in 1904.[9]<\/a> Inspired by this apology, a member of the public, Mr Baylie (actually Rudd\u2019s uncle), wrote to the editor describing some of the offences against Rudd and his property, including garden implements and firewood being stolen, and on one occasion, a large stone being loosed and rolled down the hill, breaking his fences.[10]<\/a> In 1907, Rudd brought trespass and assault charges against a picnicker. At the trial, Rudd\u2019s lawyer spoke of the magnitude of the issue: \u201cThe number of trespassers averaged 100 a week. In the course of one year he had counted 16,000 trespassers on his property. He had intended to rear native birds, native trees, and game on his property, but trespassers had defeated his objects\u201d.[11]<\/a> Conversely, the lawyer for the defendant stated that Rudd \u201c\u2026had been a source of terror for many years to people who desired to visit Flagstaff. He had really become a menace to the safety of the public\u201d.[12]<\/a> The newspaper reports on Rudd reveal that his situation somewhat polarised the town. Many seemed to empathise with the old man who just wanted to be left alone<\/a>, and others found his actions, and his desire to limit access to Flagstaff, reprehensible.[13]<\/a><\/p>\n

While Rudd clearly had faith in the court system, he also spoke for himself by composing poems. In 1904, a photo of Rudd and his horse Kit was published with the title \u2018A well-known local celebrity\u2019<\/a>. It was accompanied by a poem, by Rudd, about Kit<\/a>.[14]<\/a> In this poem, Rudd refers to himself as \u2018a jovial soul\u2019 who defies trouble.\u00a0 He mentions \u2018The folk [who] kindly greet us\u2019 as he and Kit headed into town for supplies; this was a vastly different picture of his experiences than that painted by his appearances in the court news!\u00a0 Rudd was also concerned about the ability of the working man to earn an honest living on the land, as expressed in this poem to local representative Donald Reid<\/a>, and in this poem about taxes<\/a> republished after his death.[15]<\/a>\u00a0 Rudd clearly felt the pressure of changing times encroaching on his desire for a simple farmer\u2019s life.<\/p>\n

Perhaps surprisingly, one group of walkers found favour with Rudd and became friends with the old man. In 1923, members of the newly formed Otago Tramping Club (now the Otago Tramping and Mountaineering Club) encountered Rudd while walking in the area. This initial meeting is recounted in the first issue of the Club\u2019s journal, Outdoors<\/em>, in 1934.[16]<\/a> In spite of Rudd\u2019s reputation, he and the Club came to an agreement that he would cut a track through the scrub for the club members to access Whare Flat, for which he was paid \u00a35.[17]<\/a> Club members regularly visited Rudd on their walks through the area.[18]<\/a><\/p>\n

\"\"
Ben Rudd with visitors (1923-1925). A photo of Rudd, possibly with members of the Otago Tramping Club. Hocken Collections Uare Taoka o H\u0101kena, P1998-103.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n
\"\"
O. Balk, Ben Rudd and Mrs Lessing (1924). Balk was the first president of the Otago Tramping Club. Hocken Collections Uare Taoka o H\u0101kena, P1997-155\/04-0738-002.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

In February 1930, two of Rudd\u2019s visitors found him ill in his hut.[19]<\/a> It seemed that he may have been ill for some time, but was unable to go for help.\u00a0 He was taken to hospital, but died there on March 2. Obituaries<\/a> and reminiscences were published in the paper for some time after his death.[20]<\/a><\/p>\n

\"\"
Ben Rudd (c.1920s). Ben Rudd in his garden. Hocken Collections Uare Taoka o H\u0101kena, P2002-045-001.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Rudd lived on in the common memory of Dunedin residents, and in landmarks. Rudd Rd ran (and runs today) off Wakari Rd and up towards to site of Ben\u2019s first farm, Woodside.\u00a0 In 1934, a correspondent to the Evening Star suggested renaming Flagstaff \u2018Rudd Hill\u2019.[21]<\/a>\u00a0 In 1946, the OTC purchased Rudd\u2019s second farm on the northern slopes of Flagstaff, and runs it as a trust to this day.\u00a0 They organise regular expeditions for weed control and native tree planting, and there is a shelter built near the former site of Ben\u2019s hut.\u00a0 Much of the information available about Ben Rudd has been gathered together by the OTMC in relation to the Ben\u00a0Rudd Management Trust, and is published on the OTMC website<\/a>.<\/p>\n

Hocken holds archives (ARC-0338), publications, and ephemera relating to the OTMC, with special reference to Ben Rudd\u2019s property, including:\u200b Friends of Ben Rudd\u2019s newsletter<\/a>, programmes of the OTMC<\/a> which include details of working bees on the property, the OTMC journal Outdoors<\/em><\/a>, Friends of Ben Rudd membership certificate, Annual reports of the OTMC<\/a> (including the report from 1947 which first refers to the purchase of Ben Rudd\u2019s land), and plans for a shelter to replace Ben Rudd\u2019s hut<\/a>.<\/p>\n

\"\"
This Otago Tramping Club annual report (1947) mentions the purchase of Ben Rudd\u2019s former farm and the erection of a hut.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

The Hocken Photographs collection holds a number of photographs of Rudd, such as the examples below.<\/p>\n

\"\"
Ben Rudd with Maggie Watt (c.1900). Hocken Collections Uare Taoka o H\u0101kena, Box-027 PORT 1303.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n
\"\"
Hermit of Flagstaff, Ben Rudd (c.1920s). Hocken Collections Uare Taoka o H\u0101kena, P1999-033-001.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

As well as writing poems himself, Ben Rudd provided inspiration for others. Charles Brasch, the famous Dunedin poet, wrote a\u00a0poem \u2018Ben Rudd\u2019. It was first\u00a0published in\u00a0Landfall<\/em>\u00a0in\u00a01957, and revised for\u00a0Ambulando<\/em>\u00a0(1964).\u00a0 The\u00a0Aotearoa NZ Poetry\u00a0Sound Archive<\/a>\u00a0has a\u00a0recording of Brasch\u00a0reading this poem on New Zealand poets read their work<\/em> (1974).\u00a0Hocken also holds a copy\u00a0on LP.\u200b You can listen here<\/a>\u00a0at the\u00a0poetryarchive.org.<\/p>\n

… No one crossed his door,<\/em><\/p>\n

No one crossed his path<\/em><\/p>\n

For fear<\/em><\/p>\n

Of sudden threat or oath.<\/em><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

And yet his single care<\/em><\/p>\n

Was to keep at bay<\/em><\/p>\n

All who might interfere<\/em><\/p>\n

Coming to pry – …[22]<\/a><\/em><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Dunedin author Geoff Weston also wrote a poem about Rudd, published more recently in 2005.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

…\u201cI\u2019ve been once to town!\u201d He\u2019d\u2019 scowl; \u201cAnd that\u2019s enough-for me.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cI found these boots; these bloody boots;<\/em><\/p>\n

And they\u2019ve never been right.<\/em><\/p>\n

They make me itch; and they make me scratch; and they make me pee;<\/em><\/p>\n

And they\u2019re always bloody tight!\u201d…[23]<\/a><\/em><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Rudd was buried in Anderson\u2019s Bay cemetery with his uncle John Wycliffe Baylie.\u00a0 He is remembered for his eccentricity, his volatile temper, his passion for nature and animals, and through his land, managed in his name to this day.<\/p>\n

\"\"
Ben Rudd\u2019s headstone in Anderson\u2019s Bay cemetery, Dunedin.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

[1]<\/a> For a wonderful image of Rudd standing by his stone walls, see Otago Witness<\/em>, 3 May 1911, Page 46\u00a0(Supplement)<\/a>. Jane Thomson, ed., Southern People: a dictionary of Otago Southland biography<\/em>, Longacre Press, Dunedin, New Zealand, 1984 describes Rudd\u2019s method of levering individual stones into place from a sack tied around his waist like an apron.<\/p>\n

[2]<\/a> Tuapeka Times<\/em>, 9 January 1886, Page 2.<\/p>\n

[3]<\/a> Evening Star<\/em>, 12 April 1886, Page 2.<\/p>\n

[4]<\/a> Evening Star<\/em>, 5 April 1889, Page 2.<\/p>\n

[5]<\/a> Evening Star<\/em>, 23 June 1894, Page 1\u00a0(Supplement).<\/em><\/p>\n

[6]<\/a> Evening Star<\/em>, 14 February 1902, Page 3.<\/p>\n

[7]<\/a> Otago Daily Times<\/em>, 15 February 1902, Page 11.<\/p>\n

[8]<\/a> Evening Star, 14 February 1902, Page 3<\/a>.<\/p>\n

[9]<\/a> Evening Star<\/em>, 2 November 1904, Page 5.<\/p>\n

[10]<\/a> Evening Star<\/em>, 7 December 1904, Page 8.<\/p>\n

[11]<\/a> Evening Star<\/em>, 9 December 1907, Page 4. There is a full description of the trial, including the injuries to Rudd and the defendant, Edward Fountain, here<\/a>.<\/p>\n

[12]<\/a> Evening Star<\/em>, 9 December 1907, Page 4.<\/p>\n

[13]<\/a> In Evening Star<\/em>, 24 June 1905, Page 9, there is a long and touching interview with \u2018the strange man of the hill\u2019 which illustrates how many Dunedin locals felt a connection to Rudd. Compare this to the unfavourable remarks in \u2018Dunedin letter\u2019<\/a>, Tuapeka Times,<\/em> 18 December 1907, Page 3.<\/p>\n

[14]<\/a> Otago Witness<\/em>, 30 November 1904, Page 74.<\/p>\n

[15]<\/a> The editorial piece which includes to poem to Reid also mentions the death of Rudd\u2019s horse, at his own hand, when she collapsed with old age, Evening Star<\/em>, 17 March 1906, Page 2. \u2018Taxes\u2019, Evening Star<\/em>, 4 March 1930, Page 7.<\/p>\n

[16]<\/a> Held at Hocken Collections.<\/p>\n

[17]<\/a> Evening Star<\/em>, 12 October 1923, Page 6.<\/p>\n

[18]<\/a> For example, see Otago Daily Times<\/em>, 7 October 1926, Page 4.<\/p>\n

[19]<\/a> Otago Daily Times<\/em>, 24 February 1930, Page 7.<\/p>\n

[20]<\/a> \u2018Obituary\u2019, Evening Star<\/em>, 3 March 1930, Page 9. For some heartfelt reminiscences, see \u2018From a suburban balcony\u2019<\/a>, Evening Star<\/em>, 22 March 1930, Page 2; \u2018Ben Rudd, the Flagstaff Hermit\u2019<\/a>,
\nOtago Daily Times<\/em>, 29 March 1930, Page 19.<\/p>\n

[21]<\/a> Evening Star<\/em>, 27 October 1934, Page 2.<\/p>\n

[22]<\/a> Charles Brasch, \u2018Ben Rudd\u2019 from Alan Roddick, ed., Collected poems<\/em>, Oxford University Press, New Zealand, 1984.<\/p>\n

[23]<\/a> Geoff Weston, \u2018I knew Ben Rudd\u2019 in Knight, et al.,\u00a0Glowing embers<\/em>, Dunedin, 2005.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Post researched and written by Jennie Henderson, Hocken Collections Assistant. Many of us may be feeling a bit hermit-like during New Zealand\u2019s Covid-19 lockdown, but we are not Dunedin\u2019s first hermits!\u00a0 100 years ago, Dunedin resident Ben Rudd earned the nickname \u2018The Hermit of Flagstaff\u2019 with his reclusive habits. Benjamin Rudd (1854-1930) was born in […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":14625,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[15348,15384,160,343],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1865","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-historical-photographs","category-poets-and-poetry","category-research","category-resources"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.otago.ac.nz\/thehockenblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1865","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.otago.ac.nz\/thehockenblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.otago.ac.nz\/thehockenblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.otago.ac.nz\/thehockenblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/14625"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.otago.ac.nz\/thehockenblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1865"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.otago.ac.nz\/thehockenblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1865\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.otago.ac.nz\/thehockenblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1865"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.otago.ac.nz\/thehockenblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1865"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.otago.ac.nz\/thehockenblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1865"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}