The Royal Horticultural Society was founded in 1804 (as the Horticultural Society of London) by a group of wealthy and horticulturally-inclined gentlemen, including John Wedgwood and Sir Joseph Banks. Its aims were ‘…to collect every information respecting the culture and treatment of all plants and trees’, both culinary and ornamental, and one of its intentions was to disseminate this information to its members, known in those days as Fellows.
Initially, until 1830, this information was to be found in The Transactions of the Horticultural Society of London. Between 1846 and 1854 it was called The Journal, after which there was something of a hiatus, due to money troubles, until 1866, by which time the Society had received a new charter and become the Royal Horticultural Society. The volumes of The Journal, which began again at Volume 1 at this point, were then erratically published until the end of the century, the 25th being issued in 1901. In the 20th century, timings became regular, and indeed The Journal continued to be published during both world wars, although paper and ink restrictions reduced its size. It became monthly in 1934.
In 1975, The Journal underwent a drastic revamp: its name was changed to The Garden, colour pictures were integrated with the text, contributors began to be paid for their efforts, and the result was a more accessible, less scholarly but probably more suitable vehicle for a Society that was beginning to expand its membership beyond the core of well-heeled and knowledgeable Fellows based in the Southeast of England.
In 1979, a quarterly, The Plantsman, was founded, which was aimed at satisfying the most erudite members, leaving The Garden to appeal to the majority. Although there has always been editorial direction, the themes pursued in the publication are as much chosen by the members as by the Society. It is their preoccupations and interests, successes and failures that appear on many of the pages. As a house magazine, this is very right and proper.
In 1992, the format of The Garden was altered once more: the magazine increased in size, and the quality of paper and photographic images improved with it. Since then there have been some further changes to layout and content, prompted by the changing demographic of the membership, and also the fact that there are now RHS regional gardens in Yorkshire, Devon and Essex, as well as Surrey. Whenever there has been a revamp, there have been disgruntled members; so much is inevitable. But the nature of a house magazine is that it has to please most of the people most of the time, and those people may not be the most vocal or influential.
Over the years, The Garden has played an important role in the history of horticulture. It was the first to unveil important scientific results relating to gardening–such as the Reverend Miles Joseph Berkeley’s discovery of the pathogen, Phytophthora infestans, causing potato blight, and Gregor Mendel’s experiments on genetics–as well as entering contentious debates on, for example, the use of peat in growing media, and climate change as it affects professional and amateur gardeners.
I became a member of the Royal Horticultural Society in 1975, the year I spent training as a gardener at Wisley, and have read, and profited in knowledge from the monthly copies of The Garden ever since. My first essay into journalism was an article in The Garden on the royal glasshouses at Laeken in Belgium in 1976, and I have continued to contribute to the magazine over the years, even writing a regular column, ‘Garden Talk’, from 2007 to 2010.
None of that, however, prepared me for the task of reading millions of words in order to put together this anthology. (The Greek origin of the word ‘anthology’ is, most appropriately, ‘flower-gathering’.) It was a Herculean task and it would be wrong of me to say that I have read everything published since 1866. How could I? However, I have read a great deal and have learned much, which I hope will help me become a wiser, more thoughtful gardener. I am humbled by, and hugely admiring of, the accumulated knowledge to be found in those pages.
Almost all the luminaries who have made an impact in some way in the horticultural world–as garden designers, garden makers, entomologists, plant pathologists, meteorologists, plantsmen and women–have either been profiled in the journal or have written for it. Moreover, the best writers have also found a niche here, in particular E A Bowles, Anna Pavord, Roy Lancaster, Hugh Johnson and Ken Thompson, to name just a few. Hugh Johnson mainly appears in his guise as Tradescant or ‘Trad’, which he took on in 1975; in these highly personal monthly diaries, which appeared at the front of the magazine until 2008, he wrote about his garden at Saling in Essex as well as one in France. (Biographies of most of the selected authors appear at the end of the book–see page 311.)
The articles that I have chosen for the anthology are included for a number of diverse reasons: because they represent the first expression of an important change in horticultural attitudes, which had lasting repercussions; the first exposition of new research, or a new technique; aspects of horticulture that have enduring appeal and interest to gardeners; or examples of very good writing, regardless of the subject. Of course, I have usually consulted my own interests and inclinations, so this is naturally a very personal compilation.
Although there are extracts from articles that have appeared early in the journal’s life, the balance is inevitably tipped towards those published in the last 30 years, that will (I hope) strike chords with a modern audience. Apart from anything else, I suspect that most modern readers are impatient of the leisurely progress of any scientific article written in the 19th century, however interesting the subject matter. Fashions come and go, but it is true to say that since 1975 ‘think pieces’ have been more frequently published, under titles such as ‘Viewpoint’ or ‘Garden Talk’. These ‘think pieces’ are well represented in this anthology, alongside striking news stories and interesting letters from readers.
The articles are arranged in chapters according to the subject matter: for example, ‘Garden Design’, ‘People’, ‘Science and Innovation’, ‘The Environment’, and so on, although many articles cover topics that bridge chapters. While putting them in categories is simply a device to make some sense of the enormous amount of suitable material, it is also a way of helping the reader who may have a particularly strong interest in one area. The articles mostly appear as they were originally printed, although some have been abridged where necessary.
The Garden is probably the only British special-interest magazine that concentrates so much space on individual plants and genera, and is punctilious about up-to-date naming (as you would expect from an organisation that also publishes the RHS Plant Finder). For this reason, if for no other, it is required reading for a wide spectrum of horticulturists–from plant scientists to first-time gardeners.
Another strong area of RHS interest is the international scene, testament to the fascination felt by British gardeners with plant hunting in the past as well as the close ties that now exist between gardeners across the world.
The magazine is published each month, come rain or shine, which inevitably means that certain subjects reappear from time to time, especially in the winter issues–snowdrops being a keen favourite because of their willingness to flower in the shorter days. It would be intriguing to know whether this fact is the reason why there are now so many galanthophiles in this country, or whether it is galanthophiles who are all too happy to write about their darlings. Certainly, the decline in interest in shrubs and trees since the 1980s, and the corresponding rise of flowering bulbs and perennials, is reflected in the magazine, but then so are the social changes–in particular, the shrinking size of most gardens–which underpin such a change of emphasis.
Today The Garden has photographs on every page. This book contains none, but is imaginatively and most attractively illustrated by Jenny Bowers. That difference alone has influenced my choice of article, for I have wished to include those (and there are many of them) that can stand without photographs. This is an instructive lesson, but not one that photographers will necessarily appreciate, particularly as they have developed their skills to such a high level of quality in recent years.
I very much hope that, like me, the reader will come away from this anthology with a strong consciousness of the extraordinary range and quality of the work achieved by the RHS, as well as professional and amateur gardeners in Britain, and with a deep sense of both the possibilities and the challenges which face us in the 21st century.
