RHODES'COTTAGE

New hope for anold garden.

by C. Emily Dibb,Muizenberg

Manyof us know of RhodesCottage in Muizenberg, thelittle house with a thatched

roof where Cecil John Rhodesbreathed his last. The cottage facesout to sea, and between it and thewaves there is a narrow strip ofwasteland running parallel to therailway. This had become a rubbishtip, the only growing things a castor-oil plant and a crop of devil thorns.Living next door to Rhodes Cottage,I grieved over this eyesore. Finally, Itook the bull by the horns and askedthe Municipality if they wouldallow me to cultivate it. To mydelight they not only agryed, butoffered to help in the fo~. of awater-point, a start-up load ofcompost and an assortment ofindigenous plants.

The project got underway,appropriately, on Arbor Day -1 September 1999. In those firstmonths, it was my practice to puton my shabbiest gardening rags andstart work there as soon as it waslight enough. And it was on onewindy morning while I was engagedin scratching at the devil thornswith my hoe that I was approachedby a gentleman in collar and tie,who leaned over the guard rails nextto the road and indicated that hewished to speak. For the next fewminutes we screamed at one anotheragainst the thunder of the sea andthe roar of the early morning traffic.

'Do you like doing this sort ofthing?' he shouted.'Love it,' I screamed back.'You wouldn't like to do RhodesCottage as well, would you?''Are you serious? Yes please!'

I'd looked at that garden day afterday and longed to get at it.

There was an enforced delayhowever, while the routine runningof the Rhodes Cottage Museum wastransferred from the Municipality tothe new caretakers, the MuizenbergHistorical and Conservation Society.This period gave me time to prowland assess, and to get the feeling ofthe place. It became clear that I waslooking, in effect, at two gardens -one that consisted of the immediateenvirons of the cottage and the othera tangle of £ynbos and aliens thatcovered the mountainside behind.Together they formed a steeprectangle, something over an acre inextent.

It seemed appropriate to try torecover the mood of the domesticgarden, as it had been in CJR's time,but this was easier said than done.The only survivor from those dayswas a valiant old hydrangea, whichwas holding its own against an armyof coprosma, oleander andmyoPorum. At various periods sinceRhodes' death, someone must havesaid, 'Shouldn't we plant aplumbago?' as there were unrulycolonies of plumbago everywhere,suckering into the lawn andblurring the outlines of the onceorderly Victorian garden. Therewere also several hibiscus plants, a

Amaryllis belladonna flowers come up in the garden eachMarch. Hlustration by C. Emily Dibb.

bougainvillea, agapanthus and twoexcellent strelitzias - all boundtogether in an ungovernable thicketby a rampant growth of ivy, Vincamajor and Kikuyu grass.

A major dilemma now presenteditself. Should I follow tradition andreplicate the conventional Victoriancottage garden with lavender, rosesand honeysuckle? Or should I riskbeing burned at the stake andreplace the existing horticulturalcatastrophe with indigenous pants?If I tried to strike a compromisebetween the two, I shouldprobably be hissed as aheretic by the fynbos purists,and denounced as abarbarian by the Chairlady ofevery Garden Club from hereto the Zambezi. There wereother considerations too, of amore mundane character.Having grappled with localgardening conditions foreight years, I was painfullyaware of the severe limita-tions of the site.More dreams had crashed inflames in my own gardenthat I care to recall. Thereare four major difficultieshere.

Firstly, and above all, thewind. It governs our livesand dominates every livingthing. There is no hidingplace, no such thing as asheltered corner. Secondly,the proximity to the sea.Gales are loaded with salt,which gives the wind theforce of a blowtorch. Addedto this, the high humidity atnight supplies a happybreeding ground for everyfungal disease known tohumans, and probablyseveral that are not! Thirdly,the light. On this side of themountain we receive full sunlightfor the first half of the day, and totalshadow for the second half. Thereare very few conventional gardenplants that will tolerate theseextremes. And fourthly, the soil:wretched, poor, hydrophobic andfull of loose rocks. The original titledeeds of our property dismiss itaccurately as 'inferior grazing, steepand covered with stones.'

Yes, I could plant up honeysuckleand old-world roses but I knew frombitter experience that it would be awaste of effort. I knew that manyprate as did really well in theseconditions, and I could never putout of my mind the blaze of glorycreated every March by the scores of

Amaryllis belladonna that come upgenerously, all of their own accord.I had to find a horticulturalcompromise. In the end I resorted toinvoking the spirit of CJR himself.Discovering the principles thatgoverned his personal tastes hasbeen a fascinating exercise, andtranslating these into the languageof leaves and flowers is proving tobe one of the most captivatingprojects I have undertaken in fiftyyears of gardening.

While searching for historical

parallels, I came across a number ofplant and seed catalogues from theVictorian era. These proved inter-esting insights into the themes thatdominated the period and influ-enced the Victorian's aestheticvalues. They were obsessed withorder. Geometric shapes, tidy edgesand straight paths were essential.Plants were required to submit toman's will, as exemplified inarchways and topiaries and neatlyclipped hedgings. They also drewcomfort and inspiration from thenotion of Empire. In horticulturalterms this meant that one's gardenhad to include specimens that spokeof far-flung places. Exotic shapesand forms were highly esteemed.

This was the golden age of thePotted Palm, the aspidistra and theclump of ornamental grass. SouthAfrican plants were greatly soughtafter throughout the British Empireand large numbers of them arefeatured in the promotional horti-cultural literature of the day, partic-ularly ericas, restios and bulbs.

With regard then to creating aperiod garden, I felt I had amplescope to extend myself onindigenous plants. But I also had togive consideration to CJR himself,

and attempt to reflect theman and his own tastes andpreferences. AlthoughRhodes was very much aman of his time, he wasalso a man outside of time,a man who drew inspirationfrom the Romans, theChinese, the Dutch and theIndians. Wealth bought himfame, but he tended alwaystowards simplicity. He wasnoted for his straight-forward manner of speechand for his preference forinformality in dress andmanner. In his latter years,when free from publicoffice, he habitually worewhite trousers and a blueshirt. One wonders whetherthe white and blue hadassociations for him -Oxford perhaps? Or liberty(it being a curious detail ofcolour psychology thatfreedom-loving peopleschoose blue and white fortheir national flags).

He adored the veld, andregularly sought solace inwild places. Solitude andnatural splendour wereprofoundly important tohim, as we know from hischoice of burial site. He

loved to be out in the open andfrequently shocked his contempo-raries by insisting that his houses befilled with fresh air and sunshine.

Here then were themes enough toweave into a garden. Clearing beganon 1 December 1999, and within ashort time it was possible tore-establish the formal framework ofthe original layout. All the compo-nents were there, the straight paths,the rectangular beds, the stone-edged terraces, all pleasing in theirsymmetry and simplicity.Coprosmas, oleanders andmyoporums were eliminatedwithout mercy, hibiscus moved tothe peripheries and two hideouscement planters filled with hen-and-

chicks were banished outright.The surviving hydrangeas were usedas a source of slips to recreate themass of flower in front of the stoep,which the oldest pictures show us.Two beds flanking the Coach Househave been filled with lavender andperiod roses selected for theirability to prosper in poor soil andsemi-shade. The main framework ofthe garden is now picked out inagapanthus, while dwarfagapanthus, both white and blue,line the steps that approach thefront door., All these beds are givenadditional colour with variousannuals - pride of place going toSenecio elegans, Dimorphothecaand sea stattice.

Once we had passed the AutumnEquinox, I bought in some 300assorted Proteaceae, ericas andrestios and kept them for threeweeks in a holding bed to allowthem to adjust to the air and thelight. Most of the ericas (Ericabauera, E. caffra, E. glandulosa,E. perspicua, E. quadrangularis andE. regia) are stationed round theupper terrace, and although theplants are still too small to attractnotice, they are pushing out clustersof buds and seem keen to provethemselves immediately. Four widestone steps lead from the lowerterrace to the up~terrace. Theseare clasped by t"'\o square box-bedsin which I have plantedLeucospermum 'High Gold' each ina nest of annuals. The foot of theterrace wall is an important spot,being instantly visible from the gate.It also faces into the teeth of thesalt-laden wind, so here I haveplanted a bank of Mimetescucullatus. Until they attain theirproper height, I shall need tosupport them with colourfulannuals.

The remainder of the 300 plantsis destined for the mountainsidebehind the cottage. The drip linesare all in place, and already most ofthe little proteas are firming up andlooking confidant. It remains now toflesh out these plantings withbulboU:s things, indigenous annualsand appropriate sub-shrubs. It alllooks raw and tenuous as we enterthe first week of winter rain and itis probably too soon to say whetherthis project will succeed, butgardeners as a breed are anoptimistic lot and all the signs arehopeful. I am continually put inmind of CJR's last words, 'So littledone, so much still to do,' but Iconsole myself with the knowledgethat at least we have made a starUi~

. ":i~'<

Leucospermum tottum and Euryops virgineus thrive in these maritime conditions.Rhodes Cottage in the background. Photo: D.N. Dibb.

The bright pink blooms of Pelargonium cucullatum and restio spikes intermingle withroses, lavender and sea statice at Rhodes Cottage. Photo: D.N. Dibb.

The Editorial Committee of Veld &' Flora will be voting for the best article byan amateur botanist appearing in the magazine during 2000. The winner willbe announced in the March issue of 2001, and the prize will be a year'smembership of the Botanical Society. The competition runs on a yearlybasis. The article can be about your wild garden, a trip to view wildflowers,what your nearest urban open space is doing to preserve indigenous plantsor anything to do with southern Africa's indigenous flora. Please includeoriginal drawings or photographs (slides or prints) as these really make adifference when it comes to voting! The winner of the 1999 best article by anamateur botanist was Thys de Villiers for his article 'A rare double for theerica hunters' on p. 27 of the March 1999 issue of Veld &' Flora. Thys wins ayear's membership of the Botanical Society. Details for submission can befound on the contents page of any issue, and guidelines for authors onpage 5 of the March 1999 issue. For more information contact the BotanicalSociety, Private bag Xl0, Newlands, 7725. Tel (021) 797 2090,fax (021) 797 2376 or e-mail <botsocsa@gem.co.za>.