From Muck to Marvel: 400 Years of the Oxford Botanic Garden
This botanical history post was featured on The Daily Gardener podcast:
July 25, 2023
On this day, precisely four centuries and two years ago, at the stroke of two in the afternoon on a Sunday, a most extraordinary garden took root in the heart of Oxford.
The Botanic Garden, or Physic Garden as it was then known, unfurled its first leaves, destined to become the oldest of its kind in all of England.
Picture, if you will, a flood-prone tract of pastureland, nestled along the banks of the River Cherwell.
It was here that the garden's saga began, nurtured by the generous purse of Henry Danvers, the first Earl of Danby, who bestowed upon Oxford University a princely sum of 250 pounds.
But alas, Nature is not always kind to our horticultural ambitions!
To shield this fledgling paradise from the whims of the river, a most ingenious (and dare I say, aromatic) solution was devised.
One Mr. Windiat, a name that surely deserves to be etched in the annals of gardening history, orchestrated the delivery of 4,000 loads of "mucke and dunge" to elevate the garden above the flood line.
Oh, to have witnessed the faces of the esteemed dignitaries as they processed from St. Mary's church to this newly minted (and no doubt pungent) plot!
Imagine the scene: Mr. Edward Dawson, a physician of note, and Dr. Clayton, the Regius Professor of Medicine, each delivering rousing speeches.
The Vice-Chancellor himself, with all the gravity his position demanded, placed a stone in the garden gateway, sealing the fate of this patch of earth for centuries to come.
Through the mists of time, this garden has seen fathers and sons tend its soil.
The Bobarts, Elder and Younger, established the herbarium, while the Baxters, both William and his progeny, served as curators.
One can almost see them, bent over some rare specimen, exclaiming over a new discovery.
But it is not only botanists who have found inspiration within these walls.
Lewis Carroll, that master of whimsy, strolled these paths with young Alice Liddell, planting the seeds of Wonderland in his fertile imagination.
And J.R.R. Tolkien, weaver of Middle-earth, found solace beneath the boughs of his beloved black pine.
One wonders what fantastical creatures he glimpsed among the flowerbeds.
In 1941, as the world trembled in the grip of war, a small miracle occurred.
A dawn redwood, thought long extinct, was planted here from seed.
It stands to this day, a living fossil, a testament to the garden's role in preserving the wonders of the natural world.
And what of the future?
As the garden prepares to celebrate its 400th anniversary, it looks both forward and back.
Some beds are being replanted according to their 17th-century prescriptions, offering visitors a glimpse into the past.
Can you imagine the medicinal marvels our ancestors sought among these very plants?
Dear readers, as we tend our own modest plots, let us take a moment to marvel at this living legacy.
From flood-prone pasture to world-renowned botanical treasure, the Oxford Botanic Garden stands as a testament to the enduring power of human curiosity and our deep connection to the natural world.
Perhaps, on your next visit to Oxford, you might find yourself among the 200,000 annual visitors, walking in the footsteps of Alice, Tolkien, and countless others who have found wonder and inspiration within these hallowed grounds.
And as you do, remember the humble beginnings of this magnificent garden, built quite literally on a foundation of "mucke and dunge" – proof, if ever it were needed, that even the most unpromising soil can, with care and dedication, bloom into something truly extraordinary.