A Landmark Blooms: Bartram’s Garden’s Prestigious Honor
This botanical history post was featured on The Daily Gardener podcast:
May 7, 2015
On this day, a verdant jewel in Philadelphia's horticultural crown received a most prestigious accolade.
Bartram's Garden, that venerable sanctuary of botanical wonders, was bestowed the honor of being designated an American Society for Horticultural Science (ASHS) Horticultural Landmark.
Imagine, dear readers, the flutter of excitement that must have rippled through the garden's ancient trees as this news was announced.
Picture the ghostly spirits of John Bartram and his son William, those intrepid plant hunters of yore, nodding in approval from beyond the veil.
This esteemed award, you see, is not handed out willy-nilly like common dandelion seeds. Oh no! It commemorates sites of horticultural accomplishments selected for their historical, scientific, environmental, and aesthetic value.
Bartram's Garden now stands shoulder to shoulder with an elite coterie of green havens, including Monticello, Longwood Gardens, Missouri Botanical Garden, New York Botanical Garden, Arnold Arboretum, and Fairchild Botanical Garden.
But let us cast our minds back, dear gardeners, to a time when this horticultural treasure teetered on the brink of oblivion.
How, you may wonder, did Bartram's Garden escape the voracious maw of progress?
Enter Andrew McCalla Eastwick, a man of iron and steam, yet with a heart as soft as new spring growth.
This engineer and inventor of the steam shovel - picture if you will, a mechanical behemoth designed for earth-moving, not for the delicate task of transplanting rare specimens - had amassed a fortune building railroads for none other than Czar Nicholas I of Russia.
In 1850, with pockets as deep as the roots of an ancient oak, Eastwick purchased the 46-acre Bartram estate from Ann Bartram Carr, John Bartram's granddaughter.
Now, one might expect a man of industry to raze the old to make way for the new. But Eastwick, bless his horticultural heart, chose a different path.
Instead of demolishing the existing house, he preserved the Bartram family homestead as a living memorial.
He built his own mansion alongside, a testament to progress standing in harmony with history. And in a declaration that would warm the cockles of any gardener's heart, he vowed not to harm "one bush" planted by the Bartrams.
Can you imagine, my fellow lovers of leaf and blossom, the relief that must have washed over the garden? The ancient trees, witnesses to centuries of horticultural history, must have sighed in collective relief.
So, as we celebrate this day of recognition for Bartram's Garden, let us also raise a watering can in toast to Andrew McCalla Eastwick.
For without his foresight and respect for horticultural heritage, we might be lamenting the loss of this treasure, rather than celebrating its landmark status.
And the next time you find yourself in Philadelphia, do make a pilgrimage to Bartram's Garden. As you wander its paths, pause a moment. Listen closely. You might just hear the whispers of horticultural history in the rustle of leaves, a testament to the enduring legacy of the Bartrams and the unexpected hero who ensured their garden would bloom for generations to come.
