Showing posts with label china. Show all posts
Showing posts with label china. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 9, 2019

The Lily Limp: Ernest H. (“Chinese”) Wilson and Chinese Lilies

By Judith Taylor

The huge white fragrant lilies known as “Regal lilies”, (Lilium regale) are almost universally beloved.  The only thing some people might have against them is their sheer size. Not everyone has a back garden which can accommodate a six foot tall lily be it never so gorgeous. Did you ever wonder where they came from and what was involved in getting theme back from the country of their origin? Ernest Wilson and his “lily limp” tell that story.

Ernest Henry Wilson

By 1870 more than half the ornamental plants grown and sold in the West came from Far Eastern sources, principally China. (If anyone is interested in this history I documented it in my book, “The Global Migrations of Ornamental Plants: how the world got into your garden” (2009)). Other sources of exotic beauties were the Southern Hemisphere: the Cape of Good Hope in South Africa, Australia, New Zealand, Chile, Peru and in Central America, Mexico.

North America was one of the mainstays of new plants arriving in England and the Continent in the eighteenth century. The entire landscape of Scotland was changed by the arrival of Western American conifers. Maples and azaleas from the South Eastern states influenced British gardening permanently.

Lilium regale

The Far Eastern countries could not be entered safely until the mid-nineteenth century but once that was achieved (by highly questionable means) new plants flooded in. After the Opium Wars (1839- 1842 and 1856 -1860) English and French plant explorers in the main were able to go past the tiny foreign settlements, for example in Canton and Hong Kong, into the hinterlands. One of the greatest of all the explorers, Robert Fortune, prophesied that nothing would come of that barren rock Hong Kong… The volume of plant discoveries increased exponentially in the succeeding decades, reaching a tipping point by 1870 in the United States.

Leading horticulturists in Great Britain mobilized in various ways to get their hands on this booty. Large nursery firms found it lucrative to pay for a plant collector solely to supply them alone with new discoveries. These plants were sold at enormous prices, largely covering the cost of the expeditions. In an earlier essay I mentioned the Duke of Devonshire’s obsession with rare plants of all sorts but particularly orchids. A firm like John Veitch only needed a few customers like him to flourish.

The Royal Horticultural Society and the Royal Botanic Gardens at Kew also sent their own collectors. Another way this was done was for a group of wealthy landowners to form a consortium to fund the explorer’s travels.  In the United States the federal government, finding itself left behind, set up its own collecting programme, sending specially equipped ships all over the world.

We can now finally think about the title person, Ernest Henry Wilson, in context. Yet again there was a very gifted lad of modest circumstances whose intelligence and application carried him far. Ernest Henry Wilson was born in Chipping Camden in 1876 but the family moved to Warwickshire when he was quite young. It is entirely possible that he is the most well known citizen of Chipping Camden. He was apprenticed to a gardener but like Joseph Paxton managed to imbibe a fair amount of general education at the same time. He travelled regularly to Birmingham for classes in science. The college gave him a diploma that opened the door for him to a job at Kew in 1897.

John Veitch

John Veitch, 1752 – 1839, was a very canny Scotsman who had worked in a tree nursery in the Scottish Lowlands while all the conifers were pouring into Britain and also set up a  successful landscaping business. That gave him enough capital to open a general nursery in Exeter and then a branch in London in the fashionable district of Chelsea. He made sure only the best people were his customers and he treated each one as if he or she were royalty. The heavy lifting was done in Exeter and the Chelsea shop was all sweetness and light. The Veitch family maintained the Chelsea business until 1917 but as there were no heirs in the pipeline Sir Harry Veitch chose to close it down and sell rather than let it limp along with inferior leadership. The Veitch nursery in Exeter lasted longer.

Veitch’s grandson realized the value in obtaining rare plants that no one else would have in stock, rather like a couturier creating unique garments. To that end he consulted the staff at Kew about a likely person to carry out his wishes. The head gardener had formed a very good impression of young Wilson and recommended him to the director, William Thistelton -Dyer.

Wilson was single without responsibilities and accepted the offer. Veitch drove a very hard bargain. There was almost never quite enough money for Wilson while he was away and he had to account literally for every penny he spent. We can only very dimly imagine what it must have been like to travel around China in 1900. It was still a client state of Great Britain with British Customs and other institutions but once you left the sophisticated coastal cities things were very different.

Wilson’s own writings leave us feeling that he went through truly ghastly experiences but that he was putting a good face on it. There is no doubting the sincerity of his joy at finding new plants.

There were no huge glossy airports or supersonic railways in 1900 when he first entered China. The great river systems of the Yangste, the Yellow River, the Salween and the Mekong provided the best way to get around but in the mountains the traveler was lucky if he could find a mule or a donkey. The equipment was carried by porters. The rivers had many impassable sections in deep gorges and portage was the only way to get around the obstruction. This was all before the dams were built later in the twentieth century to reduce the worst of the flooding in the fertile plains

Crops failed very often and the local villagers had no food to spare. They barely had enough for themselves and survived close to starvation much of the time. Many families were so poor that there was only one suit of clothes to go round between them. There was absolutely no modern medical care. To make it all worse, if that is possible, the rural Chinese were very suspicious of foreigners whom they considered to be “devils” and gangs of bandits infested the countryside.

Human Packhorses, from EH Wilson,
China, Mother of Gardens, 1929

By 1899, when Wilson was sent out to collect, Veitch had many samples of exotic plants but one still eluded them. The “dove tree”, Davidia involucrata, was hung with huge white bracts that fluttered in the wind, giving the impression of a flock of doves on the wing. It was rare even in China but the indefatigable Dr Augustine Henry of the British Chinese Customs Service, a legendary collector, had seen one. Wilson was instructed to find Dr Henry and reach the tree. This was his sole task and he was sternly warned not to waste time or get distracted by looking for anything else.

Davidia involucrata

Wilson travelled up the Red River to I-chang, the border with French Indo-China where the British had installed a customs station. Henry told him where to go but when he reached the village the tree had gone. It had been cut down to make way for a house. Most of us would have burst into tears but Wilson was made of sterner stuff. He persevered and found other specimens some distance away. During this interval he found it impossible to resist the great floral riches he passed and packed case after case of glorious plants or their seed to send back to London. Veitch made very stormy noises but was actually tickled pink to have all this material. The Davidia trees flourished and Veitch made a killing on them.

Nepenthes, growing in a Veitch Greenhouse

In all Wilson worked in China for eleven years. The first six were for Veitch but the latter  five were for the Arnold Arboretum in Jamaica, Massachusetts, part of Harvard University. Veitch had sent him to the arboretum for a few months training to learn the best ways of transporting plants and seed from the director, Dr Charles Sargent, before heading out to China. Sargent had brought back superb plants from Japan and was a noted authority. He liked Wilson and offered him a post at the Arboretum once he fulfilled his contract with Veitch.

Wilson was glad to change. He had married and had one child. Sometimes he was able to take his little family with him. In 1903 he found vast valleys full of Lilium regale.  While he was collecting there was an avalanche across the pass on which he was traveling. He fell and broke his leg very badly but had to lie still while the mules stepped across him one by one before his porters could get him down to a town for care. The doctor there thought he might have to amputate the leg at first but Wilson prevailed on him not to do that. He always walked with a limp after that, his “lily limp”.

When Sargent retired he invited Wilson to take over the arboretum. Wilson preferred the title of “Keeper of the Arboretum” rather than director. In 1930, while traveling near Worcester, Massachusetts, Wilson and his wife were killed in a car accident. Their daughter Helen wanted them to buried in British soil but could not handle sending their bodies back to England. She decided to have them cremated and have the ashes buried in Canada, the closest facsimile of British soil she could find.

Knowing all this makes me look at flowers in a whole new way. Ernest Wilson discovered more than 2000 species of ornamental plants in China, adding immeasurable beauty to Western gardening. The taxonomists at the arboretum published an authoritative list of them, fully identified and named, as “Plantae Wilsonianae in 1913.

Really, really last word: he intensely disliked being called “Chinese” Wilson.


References

Fortune, Robert  184-  Three Years in China


Sargent, Charles Sprague ed  1913  re issued 1988    Plantae Wilsonianae
Cambridge, Massachusetts        Harvard University Press


Taylor, Judith M. 2009  The Global Migrations of Ornamental Plants: how the world got into your garden.
St LouIs, Missouri         Missouri Botanical Garden Press


Wilson, Ernest Henry  1929   China: mother of gardens
Boston  The Stratford Company

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Judith M. Taylor MD is a graduate of Somerville College and the Oxford University Medical School and is a board certified neurologist. She practiced neurology in New York and since retiring has written six books on horticultural history as well as numerous articles and book reviews on the same subject.

Dr Taylor’s books include The Olive in California: history of an immigrant tree (2000), Tangible Memories: Californians and their gardens 1800 – 1950 (2003), The Global Migrations of Ornamental Plants: how the world got into your garden (Missouri Botanical Garden Press 2009), Visions of Loveliness: the work of forgotten flower breeders (Ohio University Press 2014) and An Abundance of Flowers: more great flower breeders of the past (Ohio University Press  2018).  In 2019 she published A Five Year Plan for Geraniums: growing flowers commercially in East Germany 1946 – 1989.
Dr Taylor’s web site is: www.horthistoria.com

Friday, February 9, 2018

Coffee, Tea and Chocolate: A cup for every purpose

by Maria Grace

During the regency era, there were three particular luxury drinks: tea, coffee and chocolate. They were in high demand, but expensive to acquire and, in the case of chocolate, difficult to make. Now of course luxury drinks needed accessories to go with them, just like our iphones need fancy cases—gotta show off the bling, right?  
Proper hostesses would do exactly that with specialized cups and pots for each beverage. The differences between the pieces were not random though, they were based on the way the drinks were created and enjoyed. Rather scientific, if you think about it. 

Drinking chocolate was often prepared in a large saucepan and then poured into special pots, known in France as a chocolatière, designed just for serving it. At first, when chocolate was a luxury limited to only the most elite, chocolate pots were made exclusively of silver with fine hardwoods or ivory used for the finials. In the early 1700’s, porcelain chocolate pots were made in China for export to Europe. Later, sturdier (and less expensive) pots were made of pewter or earthenware. Chocolate pots tended to be tall and relatively slender, looking a lot like coffee pots, but with a few significant differences in the lid, the spout and the handle. 

Drinking chocolate was very thick and tended to settle, so it was essential to continue whipping it with the molinet. To accommodate the molinet, a chocolate pot had a very distinct lid. The top of a chocolate pot had a hole for the molinet handle to extend from, allowing the hostess to stir the chocolate without splashing herself or her guests. The hole might remain uncovered, but in many cases a special hinged or swiveling finial would cap the hole and help preserve the heat in the chocolate. Sometimes the finial might be attached by a chain to the pot so it would not get lost.

Spouts on chocolate pots were wide and set high on the pot. Both qualities relate to the froth on the top of the chocolate. Since the froth floats on top of the chocolate, locating the spout high helps to capture the foam. Similarly, a wide spout facilitates getting it into a serving cup. A high spout also helps to keep the undesirable sediments that settled to the bottom out of the serving cups. 

The earliest chocolate pots had handles set at right angles to the pot. Usually these were made of wood, with a bit of a knob at the end. After the later part of the 1730’s, chocolate pots with looping handles in line with the pouring spout were produced. 

Drinking chocolate was thick, even syrupy, very different from tea or coffee. Its thickness, and the need to preserve the froth on top meant that special cups were required to properly enjoy sipping the chocolate through the milky froth. Here's where it gets particularly interesting--to me at least.

Chocolate cups were taller and narrower than coffee or tea cups. This would force the foam into a thick layer on the top and keep it from dispersing so quickly. Their unique shape also gave them a high center of gravity, which in English means it made them more likely to spill, especially if one's hands were less than steady.

That problem gave rise to a whole new style of china. 

The trembleuse or tasse trembleuse originated in Paris in the 1690's and was designed to allow those with trembling hands to drink with greater ease. It consisted of a cup, often with a lid and two handles, and a saucer with ether a deep well or a raised rim that steadied the cup and kept it from tipping. 
In contrast, teapots tend to be short and stout (remember the kids’ song?)  The round shape allows room for the tea to move in the pot, allowing it to steep more effectively. Their short spouts come from the center of the pot and sometimes have a grate behind to keep the tea leaves from clogging the spout.  The short length makes them easier to clean if leaves get trapped inside the spout. 

Because tea steeps near boiling, it must be slightly cooled before drinking. A tea cup has a wide open rim that tapers down to a smaller base and a handle designed to hook a single finger, all purposed to help cool the tea and prevent burns.

In many ways, coffee serving pieces do the opposite. Coffee pots are designed to help maintain the heat of the beverage, which preserves its flavor. The taller, narrow shape helps minimize heat loss. The longer, low-mounted spout helps keep cool air from circulating into the pot.


Coffee tastes best when served hot. Since it brews at around 180F, burns are not as much a concern as keeping the beverage hot. So coffee cups have a more vertical, cylindrical shape and bigger handles to accommodate two or three fingers which helps them conserve the beverage's temperature.

A proper regency hostess would have had all three sorts of china in her collection and been able to identify these pots at just a glance. In all likelihood, she would not have considered serving chocolate from anything but a chocolate pot. For the rest of us though, chocolate served from another sort of pot would still be chocolate, right? And that has to be a very good thing indeed.

References

Deitz, Paula. "Chocolate Pots Brewed Ingenuity." The New York Times. February 18, 1989. Accessed May 24, 2017. http://www.nytimes.com/1989/02/19/arts/antiques-chocolate-pots-brewed-ingenuity.html.
Kane, Kathryn. "Regency Chocolate:   The Correct Accoutrements." The Regency Redingote. August 02, 2011. Accessed May 24, 2017. https://regencyredingote.wordpress.com/2011/05/20/regency-chocolate-the-correct-accoutrements/. 
Righthand, Jess. "A Brief History of the Chocolate Pot." Smithsonian.com. February 13, 2015. Accessed May 24, 2017. http://www.smithsonianmag.com/smithsonian-institution/brief-history-chocolate-pot-180954241/.


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Though Maria Grace has been writing fiction since she was ten years old, those early efforts happily reside in a file drawer and are unlikely to see the light of day again, for which many are grateful. 

After penning five file-drawer novels in high school, she took a break from writing to pursue college and earn her doctorate. After 16 years of university teaching, she returned to her first love, fiction writing.

Click here to find her books on Amazon. For more on her writing and other Random Bits of Fascination, visit her website. You can also like her on Facebook, or follow on Twitter.