The Secret Garden Life of Patrick Neill: Edinburgh’s Horticultural Hero
This botanical history post was featured on The Daily Gardener podcast:
October 25, 1776
It was on this day, dear listeners, that one of gardening's most intriguing figures made his entrance into our world. Patrick Neill [PAT-rick NEEL] (October 25, 1776 - September 3, 1851) arrived in Edinburgh just as autumn was painting the Scottish landscape in its finest golden hues - much as it does today.
Now, one might wonder what a successful printer could possibly have in common with the likes of Vita Sackville-West or Gertrude Jekyll.
But oh, what delicious secrets gardens keep!
For while Neill's printing house flourished, it was in his legendary garden at Canonmills Cottage where the true drama unfolded.
Picture, if you will, the most enchanting of urban gardens - where William Brackenridge (who would later become head gardener at Berlin's botanical gardens) learned his craft, and where distinguished botanists like William Jackson Hooker and Sir William Jardine gathered for evening discussions among the flowers.
One can almost hear the teacups clinking as these horticultural luminaries debated the latest plant introductions and garden innovations.
Neill's masterpiece, however, was yet to come.
In 1820, when most of Edinburgh's elite were concerning themselves with drawing room gossip, our dear Patrick was orchestrating what might be called the greatest garden transformation of his time. The draining of the Nor Loch presented him with a blank canvas, and what did he do?
He planted an astounding 77,000 trees and shrubs in what would become West Princes Street Gardens.
Consider, dear friends, that many of these trees still stand today - their branches reaching skyward while their roots touch soil that Neill himself once tended.
As modern gardeners, we are connected to this legacy every time we plant with future generations in mind. When we tuck a spring bulb into the earth or nurture a sapling, we're participating in the same grand tradition that Neill championed.
And speaking of traditions, it seems our Patrick had quite the flair for the dramatic himself. His garden writing wasn't merely instructional - it was revolutionary.
His article on "Gardening" for the Encyclopædia Britannica became so popular it was published separately as The Fruit, Flower, and Kitchen Garden - rather like today's viral gardening posts, wouldn't you say?
The rosaceous genus Neillia now bears his name, its delicate pink flowers a reminder that fame in the gardening world can bloom long after we've departed.
And how fitting that the Dr. Patrick Neill Medal continues to recognize excellence in Scottish botany and cultivation - though one suspects Neill himself would be more pleased to know that ordinary gardeners still practice his principles of careful observation and passionate cultivation.