Paeonia suffruticosa (tree peony) is native to China, where it is known as Mudan.  In front of the Audience Hall of Mu Tsung Huang Ti … there were planted thousand-petalled tree-peonies. When the flowers first opened the fragrance of their perfume was perceived by everyone. Each blossom had a thousand petals, large and deeply red. Every time His Majesty gazed upon the sweet-scented luxuriance he would sigh and say, ‘Surely such a flower has never before existed among men!’ (Ninth-Century Chinese Writer) Science and Civilisation in China: Volume 6: Biology and Biological Technology, Part 1, Botany, by Joseph Needham (Cambridge University Press 1986).  The tree peony is not actually a “tree” but more of a woody-shrub preferring some shade from harsh afternoon noon. The woody stalks produce the next season’s flowers and should be left in tact throughout the winter (unlike herbaceous peonies which die to the ground each season). They are very slow to establish, but well worth the wait. Huge blooms appear in mid-spring (before herbaceous peonies) and the flowers are surrounded by lovely fern-like foliage with a reddish tinge.  

Paeonia suffruticosa (tree peony) is native to China, where it is known as Mudan. 

In front of the Audience Hall of Mu Tsung Huang Ti … there were planted thousand-petalled tree-peonies. When the flowers first opened the fragrance of their perfume was perceived by everyone. Each blossom had a thousand petals, large and deeply red. Every time His Majesty gazed upon the sweet-scented luxuriance he would sigh and say, ‘Surely such a flower has never before existed among men!’ (Ninth-Century Chinese Writer)

Science and Civilisation in China: Volume 6: Biology and Biological Technology, Part 1, Botany, by Joseph Needham (Cambridge University Press 1986). 

The tree peony is not actually a “tree” but more of a woody-shrub preferring some shade from harsh afternoon noon. The woody stalks produce the next season’s flowers and should be left in tact throughout the winter (unlike herbaceous peonies which die to the ground each season). They are very slow to establish, but well worth the wait. Huge blooms appear in mid-spring (before herbaceous peonies) and the flowers are surrounded by lovely fern-like foliage with a reddish tinge.  

bible-garden:

Historical Landmark Enhanced by Modern Technology: The Moses Bridge, Netherlands.

This sunken bridge was designed by RO & AD Architects to access a 17th Century fortress. The earthen fortress, surrounded by a moat, was created centuries ago as a defensive line against French and Spanish invaders. A series of villages were built on an inundation zone. The moats surrounding the fortress could be flooded with water from the West Brabant Water Line to make advancement by invaders difficult on foot because the water was too deep, or by boat because the water was too shallow.

The bridge provides visitors the sensation that they are parting the waters when they cross the bridge to gain access to the fortress.

Exodus 14:21 (NIV)
Then Moses stretched out his hand over the sea, and all that night the Lord drove the sea back with a strong east wind and turned it into dry land. The waters were divided, and the Israelites went through the sea on dry ground, with a wall of water on their right and on their left.

Happy Floral Design Day: February 28th (pictured: Bromeliad, Orchid)

As if we needed an excuse to talk about flowers! More than sixty years ago, Carl Rittner founded the Rittners School of Floral Design in Boston, MA.  February 28th is Carl Rittner’s birthday, and is now the designated day we celebrate the art form of flower arranging.

The ancient Egyptians were probably the first to decorate with flowers, as early as 2500 BC, by placing cut flowers in vases.  Formal arrangements were also created for burial processions, and garlands were left in the tombs of loved ones.

The Greeks made laurel wreaths and presented them to the winners of ancient Olympic competitions, and to military commanders after successful victories.  Laurel wreaths were also presented to notable poets of ancient academia (the word “laureate” in “poet laureate” refers to the honor of being acknowledged with a laurel wreath).  The Europeans didn’t begin the techniques of flower arranging until 1000 AD, after emerging from the Dark Ages. 

As the world emerges from a Recession, the importance of flowers is ever more relevant:  they are beautiful, affordable, readily available, and make meaningful gifts for dozens of special occasions - not to mention for our own personal pleasure.  And it seems it has always been this way.

“I perhaps owe having become a painter to flowers.” - Claude Monet

 

Oxford Physic Garden with Jacob the Elder  For the Kingdom of England, the study of botany came into its own in the year 1621, thanks to an endowment to the University of Oxford by Lord Danvers (Earl of Danby) for a Physic Garden, although the garden was not completed until 1632 due to cost over runs and the “troublous times through which the country was passing.”  The Earl appointed German-born Jacob Bobart (Jacob the Elder) as the care taker after the garden was completed. A catalog of plants was published in 1648, enumerating the 1600 species of plants in cultivation at the University Physic Garden. The publication was anonymous, but it is presumed that it was prepared by Bobart. Upon the death of Jacob the Elder in 1679, the garden was entrusted to Jacob Bobart the Younger.  The illustration depicts Jacob the Elder at the gateway of the University Botanic Garden. From the book: Makers of British Botany (1913). 

Oxford Physic Garden with Jacob the Elder 

For the Kingdom of England, the study of botany came into its own in the year 1621, thanks to an endowment to the University of Oxford by Lord Danvers (Earl of Danby) for a Physic Garden, although the garden was not completed until 1632 due to cost over runs and the “troublous times through which the country was passing.” 

The Earl appointed German-born Jacob Bobart (Jacob the Elder) as the care taker after the garden was completed. A catalog of plants was published in 1648, enumerating the 1600 species of plants in cultivation at the University Physic Garden. The publication was anonymous, but it is presumed that it was prepared by Bobart. Upon the death of Jacob the Elder in 1679, the garden was entrusted to Jacob Bobart the Younger. 

The illustration depicts Jacob the Elder at the gateway of the University Botanic Garden. From the book: Makers of British Botany (1913). 

The Accidental Gardener: The Golden Age of Topiary

Dear Garden Devotees, 

As a self-proclaimed, certifiable, historical garden connoisseur, I was fascinated to learn what actually led to the decline of the Roman Empire (which is something that’s been keeping me up at night). It appears that it was the fault of the topiary, brought about by ancient gardeners who sallied forth with shears and scissors in search of the closest yew. 

Topiary is the pruning and training of live plants into shapes. It comes from the Latin term “topiarius” which translates into “pertaining to ornamental gardening.” 

The Romans, who were fine architects and builders, transferred their architectural skills into the garden by means of the topiary, only with more fantastical implementation. It was a Roman by the name of Cnaeus Matius who introduced Julius Caesar to his fanciful courtyard pruning habits, thereby becoming a court favorite among the sovereigns. Matius set to work, propagating his favorite method of gardening on a galactic scale. Politics being what they were, it wasn’t long before Rome, Mistress of the World, was awash in meticulously clipped hedges, animal-shaped shrubs, spiral trees, tonsil evergreens, geometrical forms, obelisks, and serpentine columns. (The maintenance alone would lead to anyone’s demise.) And while it took 500 years, all this manic clipping and one-upmanship among the Caesars undoubtedly led to the Fall of the Roman Empire. 

Pictured: topiaries at Compton Wynyates, a country estate in Warwickshire, England. The Compton family has been the resident of record since the year 1204. 

Frequently the verger was surrounded by a protecting wall, of more or less architectural pretense, with towers and accessories conforming to the style of the period, and decorative and utilitarian fountains, benches and seats were also common accessories.  Henri IV in an Old French Garden, illustration by Blanche McManus. Royal Palaces and Parks of France by Francis Miltoun (1910). 

Frequently the verger was surrounded by a protecting wall, of more or less architectural pretense, with towers and accessories conforming to the style of the period, and decorative and utilitarian fountains, benches and seats were also common accessories. 

Henri IV in an Old French Garden, illustration by Blanche McManus.

Royal Palaces and Parks of France by Francis Miltoun (1910). 

This Terrasse de Henri IV, so called, is one of the most splendid and best-known terraces in Europe, and is noted for its extent as well as for its marvelous point of view, the whole panorama Parisward being spread out before one as if on a map, a view which extends from the Chateau de Maisons on the left to the Aqueduct de Marly and the heights of Louveciennes on the right, including the Bois de Vesinet, Mont Valerian, Montmartre and the whole Parisian panorama as fas as the Coteaux de Montmorency.  Terrasse de Henri IV, Saint Germain, illustration by Blanche McManus. Royal Palaces and Parks of France by Francis Miltoun (1910).

This Terrasse de Henri IV, so called, is one of the most splendid and best-known terraces in Europe, and is noted for its extent as well as for its marvelous point of view, the whole panorama Parisward being spread out before one as if on a map, a view which extends from the Chateau de Maisons on the left to the Aqueduct de Marly and the heights of Louveciennes on the right, including the Bois de Vesinet, Mont Valerian, Montmartre and the whole Parisian panorama as fas as the Coteaux de Montmorency. 

Terrasse de Henri IV, Saint Germain, illustration by Blanche McManus. 
Royal Palaces and Parks of France by Francis Miltoun (1910).

During the 1600’s, Tulipia ‘Semper Augustus’ was considered to be the “Holy Grail’ of tulip bulbs, and it almost brought ruin upon an entire country. (The red-and-white striped Tulip ‘Semper Augustus’ no longer exists.) The striping on this particular tulip bulb was caused by a virus spread by aphids. The virus produced flames and feathering on the petals (called “breaking”) and it created a sensation when it was released upon 17th Century Holland where the populace was all too eager to get rich on an anomaly without knowing its severe detriments. Bulbs carrying the virus lose their vigor quickly, making it almost impossible to propagate and the result is the demise of a genetic line. No one knew that, of course, when the tulip frenzy started… Legend and Lore of the Tulip as recorded by Charles McKay in 1841: Memoirs of Extraordinary Popular Delusions and the Madness of Crowds  17th Century Holland, 1636 The ‘Semper Augustus’ tulip was considered to be the most precious of all, and in 1636, only two such bulbs were known to exist (both of an inferior quality, due to the virus). One was in the hands of a dealer in Amsterdam, and the other was in the hands of a dealer in Harlaem. The desire for the ‘Semper Augustus’ tulip was so great that one speculator offered the fee-simple of 12 acres of surrounding property where the Harlaem tulip was located. In Amsterdam, another speculator purchased a single ‘Semper Augustus’ for 4600 florins (approx. $64,400…for a single bulb), plus a new carriage, two grey horses, and a complete harness.  The demand for rare tulips was so great in 1636 that their sale was established on the Stock Exchange of Amsterdam in several towns throughout the country. “Tulip-jobbers” speculated on the rise and fall of tulip stocks, making enormous profits for themselves, and it wasn’t long before people in all walks of life began to participate in the tulip stock trade: noblemen, farmers, chimney-sweeps and aristocrats who converted their homes and properties into cash so they could invest in the flower market.  The tulip frenzy was not to last, however. When the prudent portion of the population (namely, the noblemen and aristocrats) determined that the folly couldn’t last forever, they stopped purchasing bulbs and began to sell them off at discounted prices. Suddenly, confidence in the market was destroyed, and the streets were filled with defaulters in the tulip trade.  When the dust settled and the fury subsided, the courts ultimately refused to interfere in the mania-inspired debacle, stating that gambling debts were not debts of the law, and the population was left to sort itself out without judicial assistance.  It was many years before the country recovered from the economic shock resulting from the tulip-trading epidemic. 

During the 1600’s, Tulipia ‘Semper Augustus’ was considered to be the “Holy Grail’ of tulip bulbs, and it almost brought ruin upon an entire country. (The red-and-white striped Tulip ‘Semper Augustus’ no longer exists.) The striping on this particular tulip bulb was caused by a virus spread by aphids. The virus produced flames and feathering on the petals (called “breaking”) and it created a sensation when it was released upon 17th Century Holland where the populace was all too eager to get rich on an anomaly without knowing its severe detriments. Bulbs carrying the virus lose their vigor quickly, making it almost impossible to propagate and the result is the demise of a genetic line. No one knew that, of course, when the tulip frenzy started…

Legend and Lore of the Tulip as recorded by Charles McKay in 1841: Memoirs of Extraordinary Popular Delusions and the Madness of Crowds 

17th Century Holland, 1636

The ‘Semper Augustus’ tulip was considered to be the most precious of all, and in 1636, only two such bulbs were known to exist (both of an inferior quality, due to the virus). One was in the hands of a dealer in Amsterdam, and the other was in the hands of a dealer in Harlaem. The desire for the ‘Semper Augustus’ tulip was so great that one speculator offered the fee-simple of 12 acres of surrounding property where the Harlaem tulip was located. In Amsterdam, another speculator purchased a single ‘Semper Augustus’ for 4600 florins (approx. $64,400…for a single bulb), plus a new carriage, two grey horses, and a complete harness. 

The demand for rare tulips was so great in 1636 that their sale was established on the Stock Exchange of Amsterdam in several towns throughout the country. “Tulip-jobbers” speculated on the rise and fall of tulip stocks, making enormous profits for themselves, and it wasn’t long before people in all walks of life began to participate in the tulip stock trade: noblemen, farmers, chimney-sweeps and aristocrats who converted their homes and properties into cash so they could invest in the flower market. 

The tulip frenzy was not to last, however. When the prudent portion of the population (namely, the noblemen and aristocrats) determined that the folly couldn’t last forever, they stopped purchasing bulbs and began to sell them off at discounted prices. Suddenly, confidence in the market was destroyed, and the streets were filled with defaulters in the tulip trade. 

When the dust settled and the fury subsided, the courts ultimately refused to interfere in the mania-inspired debacle, stating that gambling debts were not debts of the law, and the population was left to sort itself out without judicial assistance. 

It was many years before the country recovered from the economic shock resulting from the tulip-trading epidemic.