From Royal Charter to Battersea: The Blossoming Tale of London’s Market
This botanical history post was featured on The Daily Gardener podcast:
October 22, 1974
On this day, dear horticultural enthusiasts, we find ourselves not only savoring the sweet notes of vanilla but also bidding adieu to a beloved institution.
For it was on this very date that London's famed flower, fruit, and vegetable market uprooted itself from the hallowed grounds of Covent Garden and transplanted to Battersea, much like a gardener might relocate a cherished perennial.
Let us, for a moment, cultivate an appreciation for the rich history of this market.
In 1661, King Charles II, perhaps inspired by the burgeoning blooms of his royal gardens, established Covent Market under a charter.
What followed was a transformation most miraculous – a mere 9-acre pasture in the heart of London blossomed into a labyrinth of streets and alleys, serving as a cornucopia for Londoners for an astounding 305 years.
Imagine, if you will, the bustling scene on the eve of this momentous move: 270 dealers, their hands calloused from years of handling nature's bounty, trading a staggering 4,000 tons of produce daily.
Flowers and plants, those silent ambassadors of beauty, changed hands to the tune of $28.8 million.
One can almost smell the earthy perfume of freshly harvested vegetables mingling with the delicate fragrances of cut flowers.
When queried about sentimentality regarding the old market's location, one trader, his pragmatism as sharp as a well-pruned hedge, quipped:
"We deal in fruit and vegetables, not sentiment."
Yet, for all its practicality, Covent Garden was not immune to the charms of literary fancy. It was here, amidst the riotous colors of flower stalls, that Professor Henry Higgins encountered the beguiling flower seller, Eliza Doolittle, in the beloved tale of My Fair Lady.
And let us not forget the master wordsmith Charles Dickens, who in his work The Old Curiosity Shop, painted a vivid picture of this horticultural haven:
...at sunrise, in spring or summer when the fragrance of sweet flowers is in the air, overpowering even the unwholesome streams of last night's debauchery and driving the dusky thrush, whose cage has hung outside a garret window all night long, half-mad with joy.
As we bid farewell to this chapter in London's horticultural history, let us raise a glass of our newly crafted Vanilla Coffee Liqueur to Covent Garden Market.
May its legacy continue to bloom in Battersea, and may we always remember the joy that a well-tended market, like a well-tended garden, can bring to the soul.
Until our next botanical adventure, dear readers, may your gardens flourish and your markets overflow with nature's bounty!