|
|
|
The Victorian flora was unique. It was unique in its richness, as well as for its newness. The most amazing welter of extraordinary plants poured into Britain from all over the world, whether orchids, waterlilies, or calceolarias (many from the jungles and prairies of South America), exquisite alpine plants from the mountains of Africa or Northern India, and wonderful garden plants that had already been cultivated for centuries in China and, even more especially, Japan. The speed of introduction was entirely new, too, though occasional new garden plants had been arriving at least since Roman times. There was a major burst of new introductions with the discovery of the Americas in the fifteenth century, and minor bursts following the development of trade links with the Orient in the sixteenth century, and China and India in the seventeenth. As European explorers, merchants and collectors began to move inland from the coasts on which they had established themselves, the interest in new garden plants expanded throughout the eighteenth century. However, introductions of all these centuries were mostly restricted to plants with the toughest imaginable seeds; the technology of seed transportation was extremely primitive, even deleterious (seeds were often stored in honey, in wax, or in sealed barrels of soil) Seeds that did survive their bizarre journeys were then germinated into the ignorant gardening world of the day. Only rarely did living plant survive the crossing of an ocean, with rats, seawater and ignorant sailors, making sure that the journey was almost always fatal. With the discovery, in the late eighteenth century, that most seeds lasted perfectly well if dried off and stored in simple packets of brown paper, and the early nineteenth century invention of the Wardian case (a device we shall meet again), which ensured that safe journey of entire young plants, the scene was set for a monstrous invasion of exotic plants from every exotic strand in the world. All this would have been in vain, of course, had there not been also thousands upon thousands of avid gardeners wanting to grow all this new material, as well as hundreds of nurseries, metropolitan and provincial, happy to grow it on, propagate, advertise, overwinter, show, and sell it. As we shall see, for the whole of the Victorian period, it was not in the least surprising to find some obscure nursery in Musselburgh (outside Edinburgh), or Finchley (outside London), almost as well stocked with some of the latest plants from Brazil or Java, as the great London nurseries like Veitch or Jackman or Waterer's. Thousands of amateurs made astonishing collections of all sorts of novelties; orchids, cactuses, new varieties of oriental chrysanthemums, florists tulips, citrus varieties, bankrupting themselves frequently enough to make auctions of their abandoned plants one of the features of the social calendar, almost as if Sothebys or Christies were to auction a neighbours' house plants. Meanwhile, in the jungles and deserts worldwide, all sorts and conditions of men collected plants from the wild, and sent seeds or plants home to friends, employers, or the great botanic gardens. They varied from colonial officials, merchants hunting for new markets and new merchandise, to failed gardeners emigrating to new countries in the hope of work and advancement. Some of the professional plant collectors became garden stars in their own right, and published memoirs of their exciting travels (other perished in sometimes terrible circumstances, even with rare flowers still stuffed in a crushed vasculum – a tin satchel used by botanists). Such was the impact of the floral deluge that the Victorian flora developed its own power to affect the progress of garden design. This was entirely new. All previous garden styles, from the knot gardens of medieval Europe, to the landscapes of eighteenth century England, had progressed according to the dictates of fashionable gardeners and their advisors. The plants had occupied an entirely secondary place. Now, much of the enthusiasm for the new-fangled parterres advocated by Paxton in the 1830's, and which were found in almost every garden in the country twenty years later, was based on the brilliance of the flowers of plants like the verbenas, calceolarias, and the showier geraniums and so on. Most of the basic species of these enormously important genera only arrived on these shores in the early years of the nineteenth century. They made all sorts of new garden things possible. The ones taken up enough to dominate the whole Victorian period were subtropical weeds that, seasonless, flowered for the entire time that the plant was growing. These, in Europe, therefore were in brilliant flower right up to the first frosts of October or November. For most gardeners, this was an enormously exciting phenomenon, for the old garden flora was virtually over by the end of August, and the gardens half dead; now they could have colour until they themselves no longer wanted to be outdoors. While some of the old sort of flowers had been brilliantly colourful (things like the cross-of-Jerusalem - Lychnis chalcedonica), most were in flower for just a few weeks, so the old mixed borders were a continual sequence of different colours, some of great softness and subtlety, but evanescent. Except for brief seasons, like the flush of bulbs in early spring, this made planning colour schemes difficult (though it was certainly done in late Georgian gardens). Plant height was always a problem; the weedy nature of many of the new South American and Australian introductions, ensured that they were either naturally low-growing, or could be clipped or pegged to the ground, so that they remained low. Thus, the new plants could be treated as areas of brilliant colour, constant for the whole growing season, as rich in effect as any gardener could desire (and too rich for some) Even the later developments of the new parterres, like the so-called picturesque bedding, subtropical bedding, and even the subtle splendours of carpet bedding, were mostly based on plants which were all Victorian introductions. Oddly, in spite of the astonishing richness of the Victorian garden flora, taken as a whole, the number of genera developed by breeders and nurserymen and which became the key genera for the entire period, were rather few. Verbenas, calceolarias, geraniums, lobelias constitute the main four genera (only the last two are much used for bedding today), and as an outer ring are petunias, dahlias, ferns, chrysanthemums, camellias, rhododendrons, roses and azaleas, then beyond these, vast ranks of marvellous, but almost unexploited, vegetation. However, on top of all this, was a quite astonishing burst of activity on the part of plant breeders. The old 'florists' (competitive enthusiasts for a particular group of flowers, rather then people selling flowers at market or on the streets), had been working away on their traditional genera for several centuries, and so the idea of breeding plants was widely disseminated, as were the techniques for doing it. Now, the wild enthusiasm for the new, especially for new species, poured over into a widespread passion for new varieties of plants. Consequently, almost as soon as new species appeared in commerce, often only a season of two after they had first flowered, hybrids were being hailed in the gardening press, being advertised by raisers or nurserymen (often at remarkably high prices), and even being auctioned at salerooms up and down the country. Correspondingly, last season's varieties were sold off cheaply, and soon vanished from view. The enthusiasm for breeding was not in the least confined to new genera. The notion spread into many genera that had been in the garden for centuries. Sometimes the new passion simply took old garden flowers in remarkable new directions, as with hollÍyhocks, say, or roses. More often, newly introduced species were hybridised with ones familiar here for hundreds of years, to produce entirely new groups of plants. The pansy, the gladiolus, and Malmaison carnations, are all important examples (the first really exciting pansies, used to sell for five or six shilling each, the wages of a gardener for a week or more). While most of this multi-layered flora was based on wealth (all flower gardening, and even some kitchen gardening is, after all, only conspicuous consumption), it did represent a sort of wealth of its own, as part of a whole culture and aspirations of an age. Rather little of it is left. The underlying economic wealth has gone, and the fleets of gardeners, the myriads of conservatories, frames, stove houses, the tens of thousands of miles of box hedging, the terraces on which to stand the tubs of agapanthus, canna, and hedychium, vanished. There are almost no early pansies left, and only a few violas. A few of Mr Chater's hollyhocks are still available, a few Sutton's strains (like the apricot foxglove) are in circulation in keen amateur's gardens, some of Perry's chrysanthemums are being collected, and a handful of bedding geraniums are still in commerce. Only a fraction of the 'old roses' survive, and almost all the double wallflowers, double antirrhinums, bedding verbenas, and so on, are gone for good. Some of the shrubs have fared better, and it's not difficult to find plenty of fine Victorian lilacs, rhododendrons and camellias. Of course, if you ask most people what plants they associated with the Victorian period, many will think of aspidistras, the spotted laurels, monkey puzzle trees, other trees like Wellingtonia, perhaps the ivy found carved on almost every Victorian tombstone, perhaps even, more remarkably, the gigantic waterlily named for the period Victoria regia. Certainly, all these were important, though some were introduced so late in the period that they've scarcely gone out of fashion. For instance, the spotted laurel (Aucuba japonica) first appeared from Japan in 1783, though it was fifty years before it became widely grown. Plants are either male or female, and as only one plant had arrived in Europe,the scarlet berries, one of the delights of the plant when associated with an attractively variegated leaf, had to wait until the other sex arrived. By 1838, they were used as screens to give privacy to urban gardens, often planted below standard holly trees Once breeding could begin, new and more heavily speckled variants began to appear in the late 1860's, making the plants popular all over again. New sorts were soon planted in shrubberies (where they can still often be found), were pruned into fancy shapes for tubs, and dwarf sorts were used in winter bedding schemes. Many were used, in the 1840's and 1850's, as balcony plants, for which they are still especially useful. They became so popular, and so associated with unimaginative park planting, that they, like the aspidistra, must have been burnt by the thousands during the upheavals of this century. They are now making an entirely justified comeback, being both decorative and easy to grow. On the other hand, there may be now hope, at least in Britain, for the aspidistra - though that's perhaps not too important while every courtyard and patio in southern Europe is still packed with them. The aspidistra, too, is quite a late introduction, appearing first in France in the 1850's, and still being described here in 1861 as 'a little known plant'. One article goes on that 'Aspidistra elatior is strongly recommended for the decoration of sitting rooms. It is capable... of living there for any length of time without suffering in the smallest degree... ' Certainly, the conditions in Victorian drawing room, halls, and even parlours, were quite dreadful. Sadly, the plant's tolerance of all this, its cast-iron invincibility led ultimately to its downfall. A shame, for a well grown plants, glossy-leaved, and with perhaps some of its odd purple velvet flowers (at ground level to allow snails to cross-pollinate them) have undeniable charm. Of the trees, both wellingtonia and the monkey puzzle date almost any piece of planting where they are at all mature. In spite of its Regency name Wellingtonia is a high-Victorian plant, first discovered in the Californian Sierra Nevada by William Lobb of the vastly important nursery of Messrs Veitch. Lobb sent home first a little seed, some dried branches, and drawings of mature trees. Every gardener was immediately excited. In 1854, the Cottage Gardeners Magazine announced that the 'THE PLANT OF THE YEAR is Wellingtonia gigantea', though it was hardly a cottagers plant. The nursery itself announced proudly that 'Messrs Veitch of Exeter and Chelsea, have much pleasure in stating that their seeds of the above magnificent Tree are vegetating satisfactorily. They therefore hope to be able to send out well-established seedling plants during the ensuing summer and autumn...' The price would not have suited cottagers either. However, wellingtonias at once became the tree for country house gardens and places like Biddulph soon had avenues of it wherever they could be squeezed in. The fad for the tree lasted throughout the period, and many remain, gradually darkening the gardens in which they continue to grow. The first to get chopped down were owned by Robinson, who cut down the ones at Gravetye Manor in 1911. On the other hand, the monkey puzzle (Araucaria), was first introduced in the previous century, arriving in 1796.It was first planted in the grounds of Castle Kennedy, the seat of the Earls of Stair, and as might be expected in the less grand gardens of Dropmore. At Castle Kennedy, the vast arrangement of early eighteenth century formal avenues, once planted with suitably native species, were replanted in exactly the same pattern but with this remarkable tree with rather odd-looking effect. However, by 1847, Dropmore was claiming to have the largest specimen in the British Isles. Commercial quantities of seed reached Europe soon after, and by the 1850's German nurseries were exporting young plants to the gardeners of Britain. By 1861, a Mr C J Stevens, who had an influential auction room at King Street, Covent Garden, was auctioning a consignment of ten bushels of seed imported direct from Chile. The tree grew fast on the West coast of Scotland, and by 1872 there were even hopes that it would become a timber crop in suitable parts of the country. Its eventual fate was less grand. Young plants have a remarkably formal arrangement of new branches, and this appealed to the Victorian sense of organisation and tidiness. Thus they were used as centrepieces for bedding schemes, both in summer, but more often when winter bedding was carried out (when they were combined with small potted ivies, aucubas, and other hardy evergreens). It is from such a use that many now full-grown trees spring, for such plants were commonly left in the ground instead of being lifted as they should. Eventually, the plants simply got too large to move, and after a longer period still, overtopped the humble front gardens where they were so often planted. Amongst more exotic things, the vast waterlily was, of course, never a popular plant, requiring large pools in which to grow, and a high temperature. Nevertheless, it caught the popular imagination whenever and wherever if flowered (as it still does), and pictures of its equally large flowers appeared frequently in the magazines of the time. As a status plant, it has never been equalled. It was first discovered in the Amazon valley by Sir Richard Schomburgh in 1837. It took ten years for the seeds to be first germinated, for which honour Kew Gardens took the palm. However, the flowers were first seen at Chatsworth, in the vast conservatories designed by that estate's gardener, Joseph Paxton, where it flowered the following year (1848). Though some slight attempts were made to popularise it, and a London nurseryman got it to flower outdoors at Chelsea, by putting hot water pipes through a large tank, not surprisingly, it didn't catch on. More simply, however enamoured the Victorians may have been of the new and the exotic, one of the central plants of the Victorian period flora was in fact a native, and one which had played a role in human society since very ancient times indeed. The common ivy, which eighteenth century gardeners had used to give romance and spurious age to their newly built ruins and grottos, had become, by the Victorian period, associated with rustic charm and cosiness. 'Rosa' describes, in 1849, a cottage that she thinks should be the model for all, which was so covered'...in this British evergreen as to look like an ivy bush pierced with two lattices and a doorway. Tis the results of her own exertions and her own taste, and forms one of the most beautiful objects - the very perfection of a snuggery - with which the eye can be refreshed.' Further, the
plant's attractively marbled leaves were used in the posies that were
so popular all over Europe at this time, or in the emerging art of
flower arrangement. Rules for such things were being propounded as
early as 1850, when vases and vegetation had to be matched, for 'In
every case, whether the vase be an upright Etruscan or of tazza form,
it should be very considerably concealed by the flowers... as in the
case of the vase being of flat form, by green leaves of the ivy or
rose clustering round it. Dark leaves, such as these and of the
camellia, always contrast better with the flowers in bouquets...'
Bouquets were evanescent, even when ringed in ivy, for 'the
greatest enemy to endurance of a bouquet is the extreme dryness of
the air of our sitting-rooms. The flowers will retain their beauty
treble the time if a bell-glass be turned over them, so as to check
the excessive evaporation of their leaves and petals. A very elegant
mode of effecting this is afforded by a small table, having for its
top a marble slab slightly hollowed in the middle to contain a little
water, in which the edge of the bell-jar rests... The vitiated air,
or, in other words, the large quantity of carbonic acid and
carburetted hydrogen gases produced by the combustion of the wax or
gas, and the breathing of visitors in well-lighted and crowded
assemblies, is also very injurious to the healthy growth of plants.
Consequently, on such occasions, bouquets are more than ordinarily in
need of glass shades' ================================================================================================= |
|
|
|
|
|
|