Wednesday, 23 November 2011

London's Secret Garden

The idea of a secret garden, be it literary or actual, is a fabulous idea. There is nothing better than tromping through built up areas with their miles of tarmac and traffic and suddenly chancing upon a green and pleasant space that you never expected to see.

In the heart of Chelsea, one of London's most expensive and desirable residential areas, is one such space. Hidden from view behind tall terraces and a red-brick wall are the four acres of the Chelsea Physic Garden, London's oldest botanic garden.

The Worshipful Society of Apothecaries purchased land in 1673 in order that they might grow medicinal plants and train their apprentices. They paid a lease of £5 a year for the site - a rate set in perpetuity. The garden's location, close to the banks of the Thames, gave it a warmer micro-climate than other parts of the city, enabling the growth of both native and non-native plants despite the cold winter weather.

In the 18th century, the garden was well-stocked by a succession of high-profile botanists. Seed exchange programs were established with botanical gardens on the continent, and samples were brought back from expeditions across the world. Two major botanical texts were written at the garden during this period: the mouthful Index plantarum officinalium, quas ad materiae medicae scientiam promovendam, in horto Chelseiano (1730), and the more manageable A Curious Herbal (1737–1739).

Today the physic garden is closed to the public during the winter months, and we arrived to look around on the last day of the season. There was already a slight chill in the air and many of the flowers had finished, but there was still much to see. The oldest rock garden in England (1773) is a Grade II listed structure; there are a number of green houses and a fernery; and an original Wardian case used by Robert Fortune to bring his tea seedlings from China to India in the 19th century. The plant I found most curious was a desert plant in the cacti house that exactly resembled a ball of wool. Any cat hoping for a game would have been in for the nastiest of shocks. 
 
http://www.chelseaphysicgarden.co.uk/

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