Physic Visit

A garden is a grand teacher. It teaches patience and careful watchfulness; it teaches industry and thrift; above all, it teaches entire trust. Gertrude Jekyll

Coat of Arms of the Worshipful Society of Apothecaries on the Water Gate at CPG. London’s oldest existing livery company, founded 1631.

There’s something of a thrill to be had in stepping out of a noisy London street into an old walled garden. And not just any green urban oasis but the Chelsea Physic Garden, the country’s second oldest, after Oxford’s Botanic Garden. In that time it’s been intensely studied, expertly curated and lovingly cared for by generations of gardeners and botanists. Always constant, always changing.

Plan of Chelsea Physic Garden in 1751 (Image: Wallace Collection)

Cultivating medicinal herbs and other useful plants from around the world, ensconced in its own microclimate, these precious four acres are bounded by busy thoroughfares, elegant Georgian terraces and lofty Edwardian apartments. The physic garden was established on the site of a market garden in the village of Chelsea  by the Worshipful Society of Apothecaries in 1673. It was meant as an outdoor classroom for apprentices to study medicinal plants and their uses. An independent charity since 1983, the hitherto private garden only opened its door in the wall to the public in 1987.

Dicotyledon Order beds

We had a relaxing lunch in the cafe before exploring. I ambled off to crop some pertinent facts while the head gardener took her own more knowledgeable and thoughtful turn around the grounds. Being early February we only expected to take in a  structural sense of the place, but its sheltered site and great variety of plants in different sections meant there was much to see and admire, and of course no crowds to navigate – unlike the major art exhibitions we’d visited.

The Water Gate

Up to mid Victorian times the site enjoyed a river frontage, with  plant bearing barges plying their way downstream to Apothecary Hall, Blackfriars, in the City of London. Construction of the Thames Embankment –  a huge undertaking carrying underground railway, sewage pipes, walkway and road – divorced garden from river highway. Now an elegant water gate marks the old entrance route and baffle boards by boundary railings soften the traffic noise.

The garden was once famous for its spectacular Cedar of Lebanon trees; being one of the first places in England where they were grown successfully from seed. Alterations to the water table caused by the embankment barrier saw those venerable trees wither and they had to be felled. A rare failure for an institution that started its international seed exchange programme as long ago as 1682.

Thinking fondly of  the horticultural businesses that flourish in the famous ‘Rhubarb Triangle’ of  West Yorkshire I learnt that the technique of forcing (light prevention) was accidentally discovered here back in 1817. Another claim to fame is the rockery round the central pond, originating from 1723,  credited with being the first of its kind in the world. In the same year the garden’s glasshouses, heated by stoves, produced pineapples and other tropical fruits, which says something about the status of the place at that time. Only the very wealthiest in Georgian Britain could afford heavily taxed glass for greenhouses and the staff necessary to produce such exotic produce on home ground.

Arrested by an entrancing aroma, my nose led me to a plant with yellow tufts of flowers called Edgeworthia Chrysantha, AKA the Paperbush shrub, which originated in China. The long inner bark of the plant, known in Japan as Mitsumata, was used for centuries to make bank notes there, so strong and tear proof is the natural fibre when pulped. A fascinating origin story, just one of many plant histories recounted here.

The section given over to poisonous plants is clearly a visitor favourite. A student nurse who completed her Apothecary training in 1917 and who lived nearby, between the wars, was Agatha Christie. She famously used that insider knowledge of deadly plants grown here – hemlock, belladonna, foxglove et al  – in the plots of her many murder mystery novels. 

Although you wouldn’t know it  at this time of year, the spiral eyecatcher of a contemporary sculpture, marking the garden’s 350th anniversary in 2023, also doubles as plant support in the summer months, which is pleasing.

Another impressive structure is the original Victorian cool fernery and adjoining glasshouse, comprehensively restored thanks to funding from the Heritage Lottery. These elements of the garden were particularly popular in the C19th century when Chelsea  further extended its reputation as the foremost collection of medical plants in the UK. 

As country dwellers we found this venerable cultivated corner of the capital a quietly engaging draw. Remarkable that it hosts as many as 80,000 visitors a year and that more than 4,500 species of edible, useful and medicinal plants from home and abroad have are on show here. Our quiet afternoon discovery allowed us to appreciate its semi-dormant state while imagining what it would be like in other seasons…Cue return visit!

More at: https://www.chelseaphysicgarden.co.uk/

Marvellous Moths

Humming bird hawk moth. Image credit: Butterfly Conservation /Graham Mounteney

Mention the word ‘moths’ to people and I suspect the majority are likely to think about those nasty critters whose larvae consume clothes or chew carpets. I confess to being a bit indifferent to moths in general until I saw a humming bird hawk moth in my town garden years back. That remarkable encounter made me sit up and take note yet it wasn’t until I moved back to the country that I eventually got actively involved this spring in entering the world of the amateur lepidopterists.

There are some 50 species of butterflies and 2,600 species of moth in the UK. Roughly 900 of those are macro moths and the rest a bewildering range of micro moths, many virtually indistinguishable one from t’other to the non-expert eye.

Light Emerald Moth

Where to start when trapping and identifying specimens? Online research around the options makes for a good start. Thinking through what best suits your situation when matched with what’s affordable and you’re ready to proceed. There are three main types of moth trap, named after the experts who devised them. The Heath trap consists of a collapsible rectangular metal box with a funnel and fluorescent UV bulb. The larger Skinner trap has a slot entrance below the light. The Robinson is a large round, non-collapsible trap, most likely to catch and retain the largest number of moths. It’s also the most expensive to buy. I opted for the Heath model.

I nearly got a version powered by an extension run from the house mains. On reflection thought that a daft idea as the more places to set the trap of an evening around the garden (or beyond) would be a much better proposition. So I also bought a battery and charger. It’s proved a great investment, not only giving me pleasure as well as visiting friends and family, young and old alike.

My first and most numerous species caught, back in April, was ‘Hebrew Character’; so called from the dark marks on its forewings that look like letters in Hebrew script. They’ve now been replaced as most numerous by a scrum of large yellow underwings, clustering in a gang around the egg boxes I’ve furnished the floor of the steel box with.

Although Latin nomenclature is essential in classification worldwide it is surely the common names, reflecting archetypical characteristics, that catch the imagination and lodge in one’s mind. Here are a few favourites:

Burnished brass. Small, widely distributed, lover of damp places, feeds on low lying plants like red valerian, honeysuckle and buddleia…all of which we have in the garden. The wonderful metallic sheen on the forewings is a entrancing sight.

Wainscot. Named for resemblance of wings to the ribbed wood raised panels of interior walls, introduced in Tudor times. The caterpillars of this common moth feed on grasses and our meadow and surrounding pastureland provides ample acreage.

The Herald. Scalloped broad forewings and splashes of orange colouring give this medium size moth a distinct dynamic appearance hinting at speed with a purpose. It overwinters in barns and outbuildings and we have both. The caterpillars feed on willow trees and again no shortage of them hereabouts. Small resident birds like tits and robins we see working wands of willow in the spring are probably feeding on the larvae of the many species of moths and other insects that live there.

Riband wave. I love the poetry of the name reflecting the subtle patterning of its wings displayed when at rest, drawing on the imagery of a sandy seashore.

The Antler. The pale markings on the forewings resemble deer antlers. This medium size moth is at home here in upland moorland country, its caterpillars feeding on acid grasslands. The antler also flies in the daytime, feeding on thistles and ragworts.

Poplar Hawkmoth. Sure to wow any observer when first sighted. Varieties of hawkmoth, like their avian namesakes, spread their wings and the large size and studied stillness never fails to impress. Most of my specimens (or the same ones recaptured) feature when the trap is left near the mature poplar tree in the east end copse.

As spring turned to summer the moth count increased in variety and number. Warm, still, humid nights with good cloud cover tended to produce the greatest number of captives. I discovered that when the trap was set in amongst shrubbery and trees it upped the number and variety even more. Some species flew off immediately on opening the container in the morning but the vast majority remained static, happy to linger, having to be emptied out at the same collecting spot once recorded.

One morning one of the parent swallows nesting in the eaves above the porch where I’d parked the open trap, flew down and snapped up an unfortunate escapee as it fluttered skywards. Daytime insect feeding birds apart, bats are the main nocturnal predators, and these we see regularly so the numbers of insects must be high enough to sustain populations, which is good. Nationally, the situation is not so good. There’s been a worrying decrease in UK macro moth numbers in recent decades, much of that due to human activity, and that has had a knock on effect in the wider ecosystem.

So far I’ve identified around 50 species in this Northumberland garden. Use of the phone camera has proved invaluable as it utilises AI to help identify a subject by family or common name; a real boon to beginners like me. Bernard Skinner (he of the trap) produced ‘Moths of the British Isles’ handbook, a definitive colour identification guide, back in 1984. My updated ex-library copy is still invaluable too, with 1,600 of the UK’s moth specimens recorded, with very useful notes. There are lots of good guidebooks out there so well worth investing in one. Triangulate by visiting excellent online sites too, like Butterfly Conservation charity https://butterfly-conservation.org/ or joining a Facebook moth trapping group.

Buff tip and bark chips

A fascinating element of moth survival technique is camouflage. Some species I’ve come across when trapping are past masters at the art. The Buff tip for example. At rest its wings are held almost vertically against the body with two buff area in front of the thorax (body) at the tip of the forewings. Looks like a twig or chipping. Colouration varies but its favoured tree is birch, into whose bark it merges. On the wing from May to July, it’s one to marvel at.

A problem gardeners like us who have an orchard is probably more alarming than deadly. The apple ermine moth lays its caterpillars on apple trees. The ghostly tent like web that surrounds the larvae give protection from bird predation but the caterpillars devour the leaves and can denude the tree and restrict budding. I’ve had to carefully peel off and destroy the tent caterpillars found in our trees each spring.

Apple ermine moth and web

When I came across the handsome white ermine moths in the trap I mistook it for its cousin causing the problem so was relieved to discover the difference when looking it up. Appearances are more obvious when you see them together.

White ermine moth

The white ermine’s caterpillars live in webbed tents feeding on nettle, dock and other common vegetation. Apparently this medium size moth has few predators because it is highly poisonous. (But not to humans if touched). Like some other moth species they have another defence mechanism against predators; dropping, seemingly lifeless from their perch, into undergrowth beneath.

I’ll look forward to what the autumn brings to the moth mix. As one observer remarked, ‘trapping is like a lucky dip for adults’. For me it’s yet another strand to an understanding of the wonders that surround us in the world wide web of nature and the farmed environment.

Apart from Plants

But the Glory of the Garden lies in more than meets the eye. (Kipling)

My wife’s the gardener and I’m staff. It’s an old joke and together we love and care for our horticultural patch all year round. The never ending work generates pleasure and many rewards in its wake. Small corners of our spread add up to a whole box of garden  delights, especially now in mid-summer when everything is so lush. Ornamental additions enjoy a special status, being either useful or decorative and are rooted in time and place.

Garden seat. There are a few different sorts set around the place which get used regularly. This old metal one I moved to the ponds earlier this year has not been used, as you can plainly see. Nevertheless the incidental invasion of monkeyflower and woundwort in a benignly neglected corner draws and cheers the eye.

Julius Ceaser We go back a long way, from when I bought my last house in Lancaster a quarter century ago. His handsome bust, made of something akin to coade stone, is a class act and he remains eternally contemplative and unfazed. The emperor cheered my tiny terraced house yard garden in Lancaster and here a few miles north of the Roman wall he lives discreetly amongst fern and hosta under a potted apple tree by our own stone wall.

Stave Basket. A gift for the gardener a few years back to remind us of times together in my home county of Devon. The maker has his workshop and 10 acres of ancient coppice woodland which he works with heavy horses on the other side of Dartmoor from where I grew up. Traditional Devon stave baskets come in different sizes for different tasks. This one has ash for handles and fixing of fir splints. We gather apples and other fruit with it, or in this case a mixed cut of elderflowers for the annual making of cordial.

Wooden Henge Another pressie for the gardener. This I got from a friend whose garden was playfully adorned with wood and metal salvaged pieces. I asked him to keep an eye out for something grey and weathered which I knew would appeal and he turned up one day with this jointed piece of oak beam from a ruin. It now stands embedded in the lawn bank border by stone steps. It’s favoured by opportunist robins keeping an eye on gardening activity in hopes of a juicy worm or two surfacing.

Watering Can I was thrilled to inherit a vintage BSA air rifle a few years back and have subsequently relived those far off days with my brother shooting tin can targets with his identical gun. Visitors these days  – especially the younger males – like to try their chances hitting the old watering can,  which resides on the field gate post. It gives a satisfying resonating ‘thung’ when hit and doesn’t topple over.

Green Man. Like Julius, he sits tight in a mass of greenery and represents the spirit of nature and seasonal renewal in our happy half acre. Delighted to come across him when last on holiday in the county of my birth, in an artisan workshop cum gift shop at Polperro.

Heart’s Wave We were blessed with a lovely range of thoughtful generous wedding presents in 2021. This distinctive gift was extra special because the young forester, son of one of our farming neighbours, tasked with clearing dead timber at work cut this section for us as he could see the heart and/or wave in the stump and thought we might like it. Like it? We love it and it’s out there every day, weathering nicely….A little like the pair of us, I hope