The Rowan Tree

A rowan tree (Sorbus aucuparia), planted on the site of the future St Andrews church, Forrest on 11 September 1926, occupied a special place in the early life of the Canberra, particularly the Scots community and the local Highland Society and Burns Club. Until the Burns memorial was unveiled in 1935, the Burns Anniversary Day ceremony (25 January) was held here. By 1929 the tree was a focal point for the local Scots community, prompting the Burns Club to nominate a nearby site, on the corner of Canberra Avenue and National Circuit, as the location for the Burns memorial and club.

The planting was initiated by Mr WB Carmichael, of the Highland Society of New South Wales, who arranged for the tree and a crate of soil to be brought from the grounds of Craigmillar Castle on the outskirts of Edinburgh. The tree was planted jointly by members of the Highland Society and the Burns Club. Duncan Carson, who made the official speech, read a poem composed for the occasion by JD Robertson. AE Bruce, a Scot, who oversaw the planting in his capacity as Superintendent, Parks and Gardens, also wrote a commemorative poem. Both are published in the Federal Capital Pioneer Magazine, 15 October 1926.

A fence was erected around the tree in 1933. When original died, it was was replaced by another tree in the late 1980s. Rowans are also growing near the memorial to Hector Harrison, minister of St Andrews for 30 years within the grounds of the church.
Still others were planted in Edinburgh Avenue in the City, but have since died. The tree is not suited to Canberra, which is too dry and hot for it in summer, but will survive in well tended gardens, such as the rowan in the House of Representatives Garden, Old Parliament House, near the gate to Constitution Place. These locations were also proposed as sites of the Burns Memorial in 1929.

The decision by the Scots community to plant a rowan tree as a gift to the new Capital and a reminder of home affected the local streetscape by more than the addition of a single tree. WB Carmichael was also a member of the Sydney Chamber of Commerce, and during an earlier visit to Canberra had the idea of public bodies sponsoring tree planting in the new capital. He wrote to leading institutions around Australia, and arranged tree-planting along Wellington (now Canberra) Avenue by various State Chambers, Rotarians and others, on the same day as the rowan planting. The English Speaking Union from Victoria planted a Virginian poplar, whose wide-spreading branches symbolised the ideal of the ESU.

Poems written for the planting of the Rowan Tree, 11 September 1926

Scotland’s Rowan Tree

This Scottish soil – in which we plant our tree,
An emblem of Auld Scotia ower the sea,
Wha’s berries red, to Scotsmen aye will be
A glint o’ hame;
Will bring remembrance a’ oor Ain Countrie,
Frae whence we came.

And as the years pass ower this new-born State,
This bit o’ Scottish soil, laid at her gate,
Will aye denote – that Scots wha ne’er abate
Their love for hame,
Still proudly strive to guide Australia’s fate
To world-wide fame.
JD Robertson

The Rowan Tree Transplanted from Ross-shire to Canberra

Oh! Rowan, you were cradled
Where the Conon waters flow,
The soughing wind your lullaby
Your coverlet the snow.

Ben Wyvis watched above you
From her might towering crest,
And held you and your brothers
In the shelter of her breast.

In spring’s fair dawning you beheld
The wakening of the wood,
The violet, and the primrose sweet,
Crept close to where you stood.

The wild life of the mountains
Drew near you unafraid;
The foxglove, loved by fairy folk,
Smiled to you from the glade.

You caught the gleam of Lochan,
Shining silver in the light,
Or dreaming, felt the lightfoot deer
Brush past you in the night.

‘Twas when the hills were purple
With the heather’s scented bloom,
And Wyvis slumbered in the sun
That fate stood by her loom.

And snapped the thread that held you
To the spot which gave you birth,
And stranger hands – though kindly –
Bore you, unresisting, forth,

To a far-off southern garden,
In the fair romantic town
Where, instead of heath-clad Wyvis,
Mount Ainslie, stern, looks down.

I’ll watch you in the spring time,
When your arms are stretching forth,
And my eyes with tears brim over
For I see you straining forth.

Ah! Exile from the northland,
Like the hearts that from you roam
By day and night you’re longing
For the well-loved hills of home.

By AE Bruce with apologies to the original author

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