By Carmen Haymen
Born in 1874, Maud grew up in the small railway settlements of South Canterbury, where her father worked as a stationmaster. Her childhood was marked by both promise and tragedy: gifted with a sharp mind that quickly outpaced her peers, yet surrounded by the losses of siblings taken too soon. From Pleasant Point to Timaru High School and finally Canterbury College, Maud’s educational journey was defined by resilience and brilliance. The Timaru Herald proudly reported on her string of scholarships, exhibitions, and university prizes, culminating in her Master of Arts with Honours in Greek and French in 1897.
But behind the headlines lay a fuller story: of a determined young woman navigating personal loss, danger, and the shifting expectations of colonial society, all while refusing to let her gender limit her path. While her academic excellence is super impressive, I think her story is about courage, community, and the pursuit of knowledge in an era of change. While she had no children of her own, Maud’s legacy lives on in the students she taught, opening doors for women by proving what was possible....
Maud Ethel Lawrell (20 Feb 1874 - 31 Dec 1945)
"In the Honours list approved last week by the Senate of New Zealand University appears a name of an old Timaru High School pupil, who's career deserves more than just a passing note.
Coming in the first instance from the Pleasant Point School she gained a Junior Scholarship of the Board of Education, this took her up to the High School where she remained some five or six years. While there she won a Senior Board Scholarship, then the Cain Exhibition, passed the Matriculation examination in 1889, got a good place in the University Scholarship credit list in 1891 and in 1892, At the end of her School Course she gained a University Junior Scholarship.
At Canterbury College Miss Lawrell gained Exhibitions for French and Natural Science, in November 1895 her B.A. Degree and a Senior University Scholarship, and now a most brilliant academic career has now been closed with a M.A. Degree with Honours in Greek and French,
Miss Lawrell being the first woman in New Zealand to gain Honours in the former subject" - Report from the Timaru Herald and SC Times 11th May 1897
Maud was the 3rd child born to Horatio William Lawrell (Captain 100th Regiment of Foot) and Elizabeth Louisa Lawrell nee Huntington.
Although born in Dunedin by the time Maud reached school age the family had moved to St Andrews, where her father Horatio was Station master.
By 1880 the Lawrell's had had 6 children, the eldest Fanny born in 1870, then Digby born 1871 (who passed away age 6 months), Maud born 1874, Digby born 1876, Douglas born 1878 and Gilbert born 1880.
Tragedy struck in September 1880 when young Digby was fatally injured in an accident at the St Andrews railway Station and died aged 3 years 11 months.
The final of the Lawrell children Reginald was born in June 1881, around 1884 the family moved to Pleasant Point where once again her father was the Station master.
AB699 Steaming Down - 2008 - Photo Geoff Cloake
PLEASANT POINT.
Timaru Herald, Volume XLIII, Issue 3845, 29 January 1887, Page 4
Prize-giving at Pleasant Point School, 1887 — Maud Lawrell, aged 12, was singled out for her scholarship success, praised for achieving it through ordinary study rather than special preparation. Timaru Herald, 29 January 1887
In May 1897 the University of New Zealand Senate formally conferred Maud Ethel Lawrell’s Master of Arts degree, awarding her Honours in Greek and French. The report, published in newspapers across the country, listed her among a select group of Canterbury College graduates, while the Timaru Herald proudly noted that she was the first woman in New Zealand to achieve Honours in Greek. At a time when women were still a minority at university, her name in print was both a local and national recognition of her remarkable success. - UNIVERSITY OF NEW ZEALAND. Evening Star, Issue 10305, 4 May 1897, Page 1 - paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/ESD18970504.2.3
Another tragedy struck in December 1887 when youngest son Reginald died as a result of a kick from a horse, he was 6years and 8months old.
In April 1890 her father was put under orders to remove to the Heathcote Railway station in Christchurch, I assume Maud stayed on in Timaru to finish her schooling and would travel to Christchurch in the holidays, during one time in August 1890 the 16 year old Maud and her 12 year old brother Douglas were walking the bridle track over the hill from Lyttelton to Heathcote when a man accosted her and threw her to the ground, she fought back and managed to break free, loosing her watch and hat. The man was charged with "assault and attempt to ravish" and sentenced to 12 months imprisonment.
1850 – William Fox & Mary Townsend
Part of the Great Plain, Canterbury Settlement (published 1851). Etched by T. Allom from drawings made on the spot by William Fox and Mary Townsend. The scene shows the Heathcote River, Forty Miles Beach (Pegasus Bay), and settlers driving stock down the newly cut Bridle Path from Lyttelton into the plains — one of the earliest visual records of European settlement in Canterbury. Sir William Fox (1812–1893) was a lawyer, explorer, journalist, politician, and amateur artist. He arrived in Wellington in 1842 with his wife Sarah Halcomb, later becoming the first editor of the New Zealand Gazette, serving as Premier several times, and leaving some of the earliest artistic records of colonial New Zealand. Mary Townsend (1820–1869) was one of Canterbury’s earliest colonial artists. She arrived in Lyttelton on the Cressy in 1850 with her family and sketched scenes of the new settlement soon after landing. Her drawings, later published in William Fox’s Four Illustrative Views of the Canterbury Settlement (1851), are among the earliest visual records of Canterbury life. (National Library of New Zealand, Tiaki Ref: PUBL-0001-3, IRN 312277)
The early settlers traversed the steep and rough Bridle Path from Lyttelton to the new town of Christchurch, leading horses laden with supplies — the origin of the path’s name. By the time of the 1880 photo, the Lyttelton–Christchurch railway line (just visible behind the lady’s hat) was already in operation, having opened with the rail tunnel in 1867. In the 2022 view, the railway remains, but new infrastructure has transformed the landscape: the Lyttelton Road Tunnel, opened in 1964, and the Christchurch Gondola base station, opened in 1992, now sit at the foot of the hills.
Maud attended Pleasant Point School until about 1884, then studied at Timaru High School from around 1885 to 1892. She passed Matriculation in 1889 (age 15). She appeared on the University Scholarship credit list in 1891. She finished her school course in 1892, earning a University Junior Scholarship. She moved on to Canterbury College where she completed her BA in 1895 and her MA with Honours in Greek and French in 1897. Girls like Maud studied English, mathematics, history, geography, and sciences, but the higher levels focused heavily on languages — Latin, French, and, for exceptional students like Maud, Greek. Music and “accomplishments” were also encouraged, but she clearly pushed beyond what most girls were expected to do. The school had a strong reputation for scholarship. Prizes, scholarships, and public examination results were often reported in the newspapers, which is why Maud’s string of awards was noted so proudly in the Timaru Herald. Timaru High School: the tennis lawns -group of girl pupils and academic staff. Timaru High School: the tennis lawns -group of girl pupils and academic staff. The New Zealand Graphic and Ladies Journal, 16 September 1893, p.206. Auckland Libraries Heritage Collections NZG-18930916-0206-02. No known copyright restrictions. https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/periodicals/new-zealand-graphic/1893/09/16/14
In 1891 her elder sister Fanny was appointed as Pupil teacher at Lyttelton school, unfortunately Fanny passed away in December 1895 at the age of 25.
By February 1898 Maud had finished her schooling and had been appointed as part of the Teaching Staff at Nelson Girls college. Her mother Elizabeth died in September 1899, it would seem Maud decided to move back to Christchurch around that time and by 1900 she was offering lessons to prepare pupils for Public Examinations from her home in Armagh street.
View of Nelson College for girls taken in the 1890s by the Tyree studio of Nelson National Library 175914 digitalnz.org/37888840
In 1905 Maud and her father Horatio were back in the Pleasant Point area, again she was offering classes to prepare candidates for University and other exams from Mrs Wagstaff's rooms in Timaru/
By 1906 she was living at "The Poplars" and is appointed Secondary Assistant at Pleasant Point School, later also becoming Secretary of the Pleasant Point Technical Association.
1959 Pleasant Point, Timaru District, Canterbury Region. Whites Aviation Ltd: Photographs. Ref: WA-49580. Alexander Turnbull Library, Wellington, New Zealand. /records/32241046
Around 1913 Maud and her father left Pleasant Point to move back to Christchurch, they travelled back to London for holiday in 1914.
She lead a busy life in Christchurch and featured regularly in the papers of the time, in the social pages as well as the many clubs and associations she supported, particularly the Diocesan Sunday School Teachers Association, she also made regular trips back to Timaru to stay with old friends. (The Diocesan Sunday School Teachers’ Association was an Anglican network that brought Sunday School teachers together for training, support, and shared resources).
Maud passed away on the 31st December 1945 at the age of 71, she is buried in Woolston Cemetery with her Mother, Father and sister Fanny.
findagrave.com/maude-edith-lawrell. Gravestone.Photos/Woolston.Cemetery.gravestone.photos.html
Thank you Carmen for shaing Maud's story.
Carmen’s Reflection after learning about Maude Ethel Lawrell
Her story is much bigger than the quick overview I pulled together. I only came across Maud over the weekend while searching the papers for women in the area who were the first at something. I love uncovering stories like hers, especially of women from the past, because we tend to have short memories and think that what we are facing now is new.
Although so much has changed socially, the spirit, determination, and ability to triumph through hardship and challenge is timeless. That is what inspires me about Maud. No matter how big or small, every person has a story that is unique to them — and hers deserves to be remembered.
Because Maud had no descendants, it makes me wonder who will tell her stories. Even in the hunt for a photo of her, I realised that with no family living today, perhaps no one has been there to pass her photographs on. That makes it feel even more important that we bring her name, her life, and her achievements back into view.
My interest in History started in 2004 after my Grandad died, I found this grainy photo of a lady, written on the back was “Lydia Mann - had 3 boys and 1 girl” I asked my Nana who it was, she said it was Grandads mum, I had never thought of Grandad having a Mum as she was never talked about, I knew Grandad had a full brother and a half brother (who he met in the 80s) but I didn’t know he had a sister, so that’s where the search began, little did I know I had opened a can of worms, the more doors I rattled the more skeletons fell out, I realised then that within families secrets are kept and some stories are never talked about, one day I will share my great grandmothers story, but for now I just want to thank her for giving me the interest and passion for history, so thank you Melinda Mann (not Lydia)
A grainy photo of Lydia Mann that sparked Carmens Hunt for History.
Roselyn Fauth's reflections and side quests:
Side Quest: Timaru High or Timaru Girls’ High?
When Maud attended in the 1880s and early 1890s, the school was still officially called Timaru High School. Boys and girls were taught separately, but both came under the same governing body. It wasn’t until the Timaru Girls’ High School Act of 1901 that the girls’ school was formally recognised in its own right, with the name “Timaru Girls’ High School” becoming official in the early 1900s.
During her years there Maud shone as a scholar. She won the Senior Board Scholarship, the Cain Exhibition, and passed her Matriculation examination in 1889. She gained a strong place on the University Scholarship credit list in 1891, and by the time she finished in 1892, she had earned a University Junior Scholarship that helped carry her on to Canterbury College.
Side Quest: Why Were So Many Academic Women Unmarried?
Looking across New Zealand’s early women scholars, I notived a pattern, that many academic women died unmarried and without children. I wondered why this was and if it was a personal choice or something more.
I learned that from the late 1800s through to the mid-1900s, many professions operated under a marriage bar. In state schools, women teachers were required to resign once they married. This rule was only abolished in 1948. The change came after the Second World War, when married women had been called back into classrooms to cover teacher shortages, proving their ability and making the old rule look increasingly unjust. The New Zealand Educational Institute (NZEI) and the Post-primary Teachers’ Association (PPTA) campaigned strongly for its removal, and the government finally relented.
Teaching wasn’t the only field affected either. There was a public service marriage bar, and it remained in place until 1956! And nursing carried similar expectations that women leave their posts upon marriage. The underlying belief was that jobs belonged to men as breadwinners, while married women were meant to focus on home and family. I think subconciously I was aware of this, but I didn't appreciate it was the law that confined these women to limited choices.
For ambitious women like Maud, maybe the path was clear to her: stay single if you wanted a career in teaching, scholarship, or public service. I wonder how she felt about this. Maybe this is why so many of New Zealand’s early trailblazers — from Helen Connon (the first woman in the British Empire to earn an honours degree in 1881) to countless headmistresses, lecturers, and community leaders — devoted their lives to education and service rather than marriage and children.
The ending of the marriage bar after the 1940s opened new possibilities for women, but for Maud’s generation it was a barrier that impacted every choice as women that they made. I thinkl their legacies remind us how much was gained for New Zealand, and how much was personally sacrificed, in the fight for women’s place in learning and public life.
What Maud’s story shows me is that even though she achieved incredible academic recognition, she was still held back because of her gender, with limited options and choices — things I barely think twice about today. Her career shows both the progress and the limits of women’s rights in her era... remarkable academic achievement, yet curtailed by social expectations after marriage.
Side Quest: Helen Connon — A First for the Empire
Just two hours up the road from Timaru was Christchurch, where Helen Connon — seventeen years older than Maud — became the first woman in the whole British Empire to graduate with an Honours degree. In 1881 she earned her MA in English and Latin at Canterbury College, a milestone celebrated across the Empire as proof that women’s minds were every bit as capable as men’s. (Crazy to think we had to prove this once!)
The following year she was appointed principal of Christchurch Girls’ High School, one of the first women in New Zealand to lead a secondary school. She pushed hard for her students to receive the same education as boys, determined that the opportunities she had fought for would not end with her.
Unlike Maud, Helen did marry. In 1889 she wed politician William Pember Reeves, later Minister of Education and Agent-General in London. Marriage would have meant stepping back from school leadership, as society expected, but it looks like she continued to support her husband’s work and remained committed to education. She had three children — two daughters and a son — including Amber Reeves, who later became well known as a writer and feminist in her own right.
Sadly, Helen’s life was short. She died in London in 1903, only 46, worn down by poor health. Yet her achievements blazed a trail for many young woman from Canterbury. She broke academic ground, led a school, and proved that the highest levels of learning should be available as a choice to women.
Side Quest: What Did an MA with Honours in Greek and French Mean in 1897?
When Maud graduated in 1897 with a Master of Arts with Honours in Greek and French, it was a remarkable achievement.
First, she had already completed her BA in 1895, covering a broad range of subjects. An MA required extra years of advanced study and strict examinations. The “with Honours” designation meant she had excelled at the very highest level.
For Greek, this meant mastering grammar and composition, translating both into and out of the language, and analysing classic texts such as Homer’s Iliad, Plato’s Dialogues, and Sophocles’ tragedies. It was considered the pinnacle of intellectual rigour, and Maud was the first woman in New Zealand to achieve Honours in it.
For French, she immersed herself in literature and thought, studying writers like Molière, Racine, Voltaire, Rousseau, Hugo and Balzac. Beyond reading, she was expected to write essays, translate fluently, and treat the subject as serious scholarship rather than a polite accomplishment.
In 1897, an MA with Honours in two languages showed mastery of both the ancient and modern worlds. For a woman to achieve this at a time when women’s place at university was still contested made Maud’s success truly extraordinary.
Side Quest: Why Greek and French?
Maud’s subjects tell us a lot. Greek was the hardest, most prestigious field — a gatekeeper for men heading into law, politics, or the church. For Maud to master it, and be the first woman in New Zealand to take Honours in it, was a direct challenge to who was “allowed” at the top table of learning.
French sat at the other end of the spectrum. For girls, it was often treated as polish — something ornamental, cultured, but not serious. Maud refused to leave it there. She turned it into scholarship, collecting prizes and proving it belonged in the realm of real academic achievement.
Together, Greek and French show her breaking the mould: reshaping expectations of what women could study then, and reminding us today how education still carries hidden hierarchies about who belongs where.
Side Quest: What Maud Would Have Studied
Greek
She would have tackled ancient texts in the original Greek. Think Homer’s Iliad and Odyssey, Plato’s dialogues, Sophocles’ tragedies, and probably sections of the New Testament. She’d be expected to translate fluently, parse every grammatical twist, and write essays on style, philosophy, and history. She would have memorised reams of vocabulary, verb forms, and syntax. The focus was on proving intellectual toughness. Greek was considered the “Mount Everest” of subjects.
French
Here she would have immersed herself in French literature and thought. Likely authors include Racine, Molière, Voltaire, Rousseau, Hugo, and Balzac. She’d be analysing texts in French, translating back and forth, and writing critical essays.
Beyond literature, she’d also be expected to show command of grammar and composition — not just speaking French, but demonstrating it as a serious scholarly language. By the 1890s, French was also a gateway into science and philosophy, since many important works were still being published in French.
Roselyn Fauth's reflection when thinking about what Maud learned, why this was relevant to society and what learning about the Greek past, tells us about ourselves today:
When Maud graduated, she wasn’t simply “good at languages.” She was trained to think critically, to wrestle with some of the most demanding texts ever written, and to measure herself against a system designed to exclude women. She would have come out with a mind sharpened by ancient philosophy and modern European thought — and the courage to claim her place in a world that hadn’t planned to make room for her.
Pericles from the Pnyx justifying the expenses for the Acropolis. From the book of G. Filaretos “Pericles – Aspasia”.
I like this postcard, and when on a deep dive about what the scene represented I learned Pericles, is depectied justifying the huge expense of rebuilding the Acropolis. He was arguing that the works were not wasteful luxury but a shared investment in Athens’ glory. The money, he said, gave employment to citizens, created lasting beauty, and projected Athenian power and culture to the world — proving that art and knowledge were as essential to the city’s greatness as military strength.
When reflecting on this, and thinking about what Maud would have thought about when learning Greek, I think this postcard reminds us that the arguments Pericles made on the Pnyx — that beauty, culture, and learning are not luxuries but foundations of a strong society — are still alive today. We still debate whether money should go to schools, libraries, galleries, or public spaces, or whether it should be reserved for more “practical” needs. His defence of the Acropolis reminds us that investment in knowledge and culture shapes identity and legacy.
Seen alongside Maud’s story, it underlines something else: who gets to be part of those conversations matters. In Pericles’ Athens it was only male citizens; in Maud’s New Zealand, she had to fight for her right to study Greek at all. Today, it challenges us to ask whether our cultural and educational investments are truly inclusive — and whose voices still risk being left out.
I wonder what she pondered on when learning about the Greeks. Here are some distilled sayings from the general ideas in ancient Greek thought, especially Hesiod’s Works and Days:
“Risk is part of life’s balance of toil and joy.”
(Hesiod’s Works and Days: the “iron generation” lives with both sorrow and hope.)
“We can prepare, but uncertainty never disappears.”
(Hesiod urging farmers to build granaries — preparation helps, but fate still rules.)
“Guidance helps, yet choice and responsibility are ours.”
(Oracles and omens offered direction, but generals still had to plan and act.)
“Ignored risks endanger not just one, but all.”
(The Sicilian expedition showed how neglecting omens brought disaster to the whole polis.)
“Wisdom means readiness, not leaving life to chance.”
(The Greeks warned against trusting the dice alone — prudence required both foresight and accountability.)
Side Quest: Glimpses of Equality
As I read through the Greeks history online, I find myself looking for the places where women appear in the story instead of just in the margins... who are figures of authority or strength. The record appears to be slim, but after a deep dive I did find some... I wonder if Maud noticed it too. Here are some examples that I came across:
Sparta stands out first. While Athens shut its women indoors, Sparta let them inherit land, manage estates, and speak with unusual boldness. Perhaps it was born of necessity, with the men so often away at war, but still — it meant that women carried a weight of power. Did Maud pause here, imagining what it would feel like to stand so visibly in one’s own right?
Then Delphi: the Pythia, the woman whose voice could sway kings and decide the course of wars. Shrouded in smoke, but listened to with reverence. That image lingers with me — a woman at the centre of power, her words shaping the fate of cities. Surely that must have caught Maud’s attention too.
And in the sacred rites of Demeter, I see women gathering without men, carrying out rituals that the community depended on. For a few days, authority shifted, and the city’s survival rested on their shoulders. Did Maud feel a spark of recognition there, that women’s strength, though often hidden, had always been essential?
Even in myth, I see here stories of women who refuse to fade. Antigone stands up against a king; Penelope matches Odysseus not with brute force, but with wit and endurance. I think this shows that their stories are not equal in status, but are equal in courage.
I wonder if Maud learned about these women and if maybe she could have been inspired by them, reminders that women’s voices had always been present, even if many history books played their contributions down.
Side Quest: What doe the Greeks tell us about feminism?
I often wonder how it must have felt for Maud, sitting there with her Greek texts, reading the words of men who never imagined a woman like her would be allowed near a university lecture hall. Did she make the connection? Did she sense the irony that she was excelling in a subject built on a civilisation where women were not citizens, could not vote, could not own land, and were shut out of the public conversations that defined their world?
For most of my life I held the Greeks and Romans up on a pedestal, the height of civilisation, the birthplace of democracy, art, philosophy and learning. But going down this rabbit hole has changed how I see them. Yes, the men had a great time building monuments and debating in public squares, but the women’s choices were desperately limited. And here is the twist: the so called “Dark Ages” may have actually opened more space for women to step forward, to rule on thrones, to own land, to issue commands in their own right. Then, with the Renaissance and its revival of classical ideals, women were forced back into older, narrower roles.
And so here we are today. My girls do not even realise that the choices they take for granted, to learn, to work, to shape their own lives, are so recent, and only possible because of the shifts made by women like Maud. Her story, and others like it, remind me that women’s rights have not been guaranteed. They have always been contested, always fragile, and they are worth protecting.
I think male-dominated systems preserved their power by keeping women’s rights limited, and the classical past was often used as the justification. The real change has only come as women pushed back, claimed education, and fought for laws that finally recognised their equality. Perhaps when the men went to war, the women were able to seize the moment and step into shoes they wanted to wear.
Side Quest: How Far Have We Really Come?
Maud’s ordeal as a sixteen-year-old, attacked while walking the bridle track with her younger brother, is hard to read even now. I think about her courage, fighting back to escape, and then in enduring the public process of the man’s trial. The fact that he was caught and sentenced shows that justice could be done, but it does not take away from the fear and vulnerability she must have felt. For me, it is another reminder that behind her academic brilliance was a young woman who had already faced danger that so many women know too well.
I was reminded of this recently when I heard of someone who had been accused of sexual assault. More women have since come forward with their stories. Some probably thought they could handle it, but by staying silent, the behaviour was able to continue until one day a younger woman was hurt. We need to speak up and make sure that inappropriate behaviour is stopped early, before it has the chance to harm others.
If something happens, even if you know it wasn't right but you dont want to make a fuss... tell someone you trust. A friend, a family member, a teacher, a colleague. And if you can, take it further: to a manager, the police, or a support service. Silence protects the offender, not the victim, and speaking up is the first step to protecting yourself and others.
Why is Maud my heroine?
Maud is my heroine because she reminds me that courage is not always loud. She was not a queen or a famous suffragette, but a clever young woman from a railway family in South Canterbury who kept stepping into spaces where women were not meant to go. She mastered Greek, the hardest subject of her day, and was the first woman in New Zealand to take Honours in it. She chose teaching and independence at a time when marriage would have meant giving it all up.
What I admire is that she simply kept going, through loss, change, and the weight of expectation. Her story reminds me that the rights and choices I take for granted today are very new, and were built on the quiet persistence of women like her. Maud did not leave monuments or headlines, but she left a legacy. She claimed her right to learn, to think, and to live on her own terms, and that is why she is my heroine.
Side Quest: How did trains and Maud's fathers job impact their lives
I love trains! I have grown up by the railway line, and got used to hearing the vibrations as it thundered past on the rails. I think it is sad that we don't have a a passenger rail service, and I often wonder if it is underutilised. I wonder how many families used to benefit from rail employment and how it impact their lives. Maud’s father, Horatio William Lawrell, had first served as a Captain in the 100th Regiment of Foot before becoming a railway stationmaster in South Canterbury. His postings at St Andrews, Pleasant Point, and later Heathcote meant Maud grew up in a disciplined household at the centre of community life, with the railway shaping both her family’s movements and opportunities.
In the 1800s and early 1900s, stationmasters were highly respected figures who managed timetables, freight, telegraph messages, safety, and staff, effectively running the town’s main link to the wider world. For families like the Lawrells, the role brought both community standing and frequent transfers, placing Maud’s childhood at the heart of order, responsibility, and change in a young country. It was interesting to read that the railway shaped both her family’s status, movements and opportunities but also brought tradgey in the death of her young brother, and disruption, as transfers could uproot them with little notice.
Roselyn Fauth with daughter Annabelle on her hip, catching a photo of a special train visit at the Timaru Railway Station. - Photo By Geoff Cloake
