the gardeners of a municipal parks department. Men and
known this, but 130 years later, he had no choice; his was
women who had grown up on local estates.
both a Faustian pact and a placing of faith in the future. No
These ‘paphs’, as Jim Gardiner, the last Curator of
doubt inspired by post-war optimism and the way the garden
Liverpool Botanic Gardens pointed out to me, had a
had been re-built in the past, he had every reason to believe
Liverpool pedigree through and through. For a start ‘paphs’
that, when the time came and the glasshouses had reached
have always been thought of as the ‘northern’ England
the end of their life, others would re-invent the ‘botanics’
orchid, in the long held belief that they, above all other
as he had done. Never in his wildest dreams could he have
orchids, are more hardy to chillier climes and industrial
foreseen how that imperfect timber would, only twenty years
smoke. Then, they had a direct line through one of the first
later, be drawn into a spiral of politics that would eventually
‘paphs’ to be sent back to the UK, P.insigne a plant sent from
lead to his hopeful range’s destruction.
North East India to Mr Roscoe in 1820 by Nathaniel Wallich,
On a sunny autumn day, Friday 18th September, 1964
Curator at Calcutta Botanic Gardens. This plant was the first
Percy Conn stood, like John Shepherd had stood before him,
of this species to flower in British cultivation; and it did so
at the entrance to a new glasshouse, welcoming assembled
in Liverpool Botanic Gardens. Finally, the initial cross that
dignitaries. To me, his vast complex was like a great glass
then paved the way for the Liverpool Orchids was P.insigneX.
spaceship, packed with Liverpool’s botanical riches, ready to
spicerianum made by the Liverpool collector Sir Trevor
take off into the future. It was so large that for the publicity
Lawrence in 1884. The ‘Liverpool Orchids’ are now lost from
shot a light aircraft had to take to the skies to capture its
the Collection; it seems they went in the years following
entirety. The images from that sunny day show the party
the closure of the last garden. I had half gone to Bradford
in the entrance vestibule, gathered expectantly round the
thinking that John Keeling might have a clue to finding them;
Calder Stones. After speeches and ribbon-cutting by Sir
but even he had no idea where to start the search.
George Taylor, the Director of Kew (who had interrupted
I think The Burmese Lily and the Liverpool Orchids must
his Scottish holiday for the event), the party were at long
have helped give Percy Conn the weight to re-build the
last transported into the wonder of Liverpool’s new
gardens; after all they had been but shadows before the war.
botanic embrace.
Encouraged by these successes and the recognition they
There must have been a palpable sense of generosity
brought in the city and wider horticultural world, he started
in the air. Following the devastation of the old garden at
building a range of new glasshouses. He was supported by
Wavertree the plant collections had been re-built through
the Corporation. Percy Conn’s motivation was simple. In fact
the hard work of Liverpool horticulturalists but also through
it is carved in stone; on the foundation block of the Harthill
plentiful gifts from individuals such as Maurice Mason
garden – ironically one of the only things surviving today.
(remembered in Begonia masoniorum) as well as numerous
The stone gives the date of the loss of the earlier garden at
botanic gardens up and down the land; testament to Percy
Wavertree, describing it as DESTROYED BY ENEMY ACTION.
Conn’s international status within the world of parks. This
Conn’s new garden was to be a metaphorical Liver bird rising
re-launching of the Botanic Gardens caught the mood in
from the ashes of the past, filled with the orchid collection
the city – the economy was booming; the Beatles were
that had made Liverpool famous in times past.
dominating the airwaves; with its tropical, colourful vibe
Even though the city was in ruins and thousands of people
the Botanic Gardens were flower power on a grand scale.
needed basic housing, the Corporation backed Conn to the
There was a distinguished new Curator too, Mr James Muir
tune of £32,000, only to be knocked back by the government
whom as a young man Mr Conn had helped on his botanical
who reduced the sum to £1,350 – the price of a single
path. Muir had been employed under Conn at Coventry
glasshouse. So Conn had to build his glasshouse range
and his reference for a first botanic post to the University
by stealth using the timber that was pouring through the
of Cambridge Botanic Gardens was written by his mentor.
port for post war reconstruction. It was low grade spruce
The reference is amongst the papers he left on his death; an
(Picea abies or Picea glauca), the only wood available to
invaluable archive which his daughter Linda Kehoe donated
him – and the last thing that you should build a glasshouse
to the World Museum a few years ago, along with hundreds
from. I asked John Edmondson about this. He said that for
of his beautiful photographs – some of which I have been
temples of flora the wood should be teak (Tectona grandis),
lucky enough to reproduce in this book.
a hardwood – oily, lasting, weather-proof; he was sure that
On that opening day, Mr Roscoe was ever-present. He
the glasshouses of the very first garden at Mount Pleasant
was remembered in the opening addresses and again after
would have been built with it. Conn would of course have
lunch when the party headed over to Clarke Gardens next
to Allerton Hall where Mr Roscoe had once lived. Here a
I have been thinking a lot of the garden in which I grew
new aviary was opened on the very spot where Mr Roscoe’s
up. My understanding of all gardens, including Liverpool’s
private gardens had once stood. As Percy Conn invoked
gardens begins in the garden that my father made.
Liverpool’s beloved son, enchanting birds from far off lands
My father never did build his brand new house, architect
flew behind him, their colourful iridescent wings catching the
designed with nothing, nothing from the past. By the
late afternoon sun. To those present they must have seemed
mid-sixties he had a family including a father-in-law, my
like the avian cousins of the Botanic Gardens’ exotic blooms.
Grandfather, so he compromised for the convenience of a
The souvenir brochure shows the busy schedule of this
1930s detached house. He always told us that he bought
memorable day. A copy was loaned to me by Arthur Dallas,
the house for the garden, which although very close to the
who at the time was a young apprentice. He remembers
centre of the town where we lived (Maidstone in Kent) was
nothing of the day. He told me he was held in the ‘private
quite large. In fact, if you stood at my bedroom window
side’ of the glasshouses, in the propagating area, away from
which faced it, barely any houses intruded upon the view.
dignitaries’ views. Though he never got to experience its
This was because at one point there had been a quarry
pomp and circumstance, the brochure is now a treasured
there, in fact they had quarried the stone for the walls of
possession; hymn-sheet to a moment that promised so
Maidstone Prison which was built ten minutes away down
much for the city’s future. Content with his new garden
the hill. Long since redundant, the quarrying had left a great
and the team in whose hands he left its care, I am told that
dip in the land, unfit for building, so there was a confluence
Mr Conn retired to the south coast and married his long-
of gardens instead; our garden and the neighbours’ gardens
time secretary. As far as I know he did not live to see what
conspired into a veritable feast of green. A pocket oasis so
became of his post-war idyll. Maybe it is just as well.
close to the town centre.
20
moved there shortly after I was born and this was the only
I think my father would have admired Percy Conn. He would
home I knew. The garden was the first thing I saw in the
have admired his building of brave new glasshouses; brave
morning when I opened the curtains. It was the last thing
new gardens. He once told me that after the war it had been
I saw at night when I closed them.
his dream too to build something new, in his case a brand
I don’t remember life before this garden because we
My father had not planned for us to stay in this house very
new house, architect designed – a complete break with
long. When I was young every year there would be talk of
the past. He said he had wanted to fill it with new furniture,
moving on, possibly of that new house, architect-designed
new cutlery, new everything. His war had been inglorious.
which haunted him. And each year we stayed exactly where
He left school at 17 and joined the Essex Regiment where
we were, for reasons of schools, or jobs or convenience or
he was promptly sent to Freetown, Sierra Leone to teach
money or some other. As each year passed and we stayed
local troops to fight; he never explained for what purpose,
put, my father began to lavish attention on the garden.
I do not think he knew. I do not know what happened to my
He made some signature alterations to suit our needs. He
father, he never discussed it, but whilst there his health
grubbed up the large circular rose bed that dominated the
broke. Invalided home for ‘nerves’ he spent the rest of the
lawn and laid turf down so that we had room to play. The
war in Cornwall with his mother, my Grandmother. As a form
garden rebelled, the scar of the turf never healed, like an
of convalescence he was found a job in a post office.
imperfect skin graft. He planted a damson tree against one
Later my father trained in forestry and then as a surveyor.
wall and a passion flower against another. Up at the top he
Working for the local County Council he was known for his
planted raspberries, rhubarb, gooseberries, strawberries,
meticulous attention to detail. One of his last jobs before he
several small apple trees and beneath them spring bulbs,
retired was surveying Chatham Dockyard prior to its being
crocus and tazetta narcissus, tulips and daffodils flushing
sold off in the 1980s. It gave him no joy. I remember him
from February to May. In the small greenhouse up there
telling me he hated to see the once proud port redundant,
he tended a vine.
carved up, cast adrift into an uncertain future. I am writing this because, looking back, many of my
He planted lily of the valley near the house for my mother, large clumps of lavender and rosemary, great plum
father’s dreams were lived out in the garden that he created
red peonies and lavishly scented roses. He planted two
after the war. Thinking about gardens over the last year as I
laburnum trees, one for me, one for my brother, their loose
have been in thinking about Liverpool’s – of their decline and
lipped yellow flowers came in May and I knew from very early
fall, their creation, what they mean and why we make them,
on not to eat the little black seeds. POISONOUS! My father
grew a eucalyptus and a myrtle both of which he said had been struck from my grandmother’s wedding bouquet. My father built a rustic seat and a summer house from
After my father died, my brother and I sold the house. Just before the sale went through I visited one last time. It was a late summer’s day. I did not spend long walking
recycled planks where garden chairs were kept. He made twin
around the house – it was sullen with abandonment
flower tubs from old tyres and when we were a bit older and
and showing the battle scars of 30 years of us; I did not
didn’t need the lawn as much he planted a cherry tree on it so
really care about it anyway, but I cared about the garden.
he could sit beneath its shady limbs. A succession of pets was
Stepping outside through the back door, as I had done
buried in various flowerbeds: dogs and guinea pigs, goldfish,
all my life, I was met with a scene of carnage. Left home
gerbils, stick insects (those 1970s must-have pets); each loss,
alone for months the garden had grown delinquent and
mammalian or otherwise marked by a solitary rose.
wild, as if magnificently wrecked on the endless draughts
I never gardened myself. I used to watch the weekend
of sunlight from the all out party that is an English summer.
gardening activity from my window. I watched my parents
All the familiar order my father had for years imparted onto
kneeling before the flower beds in a vain sort of prayer
it had been lavishly, gloriously, guiltlessly squandered. In
silently stabbing at the unyielding Kentish soil with forks and
that moment I realised that the garden and I, for so long
trowels. Breaking their backs and their hearts over plants.
synchronised, had finally gone our separate ways. It was
In my teenage years I thought they were mad or sad, but
time to say goodbye. I took some photographs. I took a
I would inevitably descend after works were complete to
series of the small wooden greenhouse as I left down the
be shown what had been done, probably acknowledging
garden path. In each one it becomes progressively smaller,
the ‘improvements’ with a vaguely dismissive air. I did not
the wooden frame like the prow of a small scuttled ship,
want to admit that privately I was having a love affair with
sedately sinking into the luxuriance of a riotous, overblown
that garden. That I always had been since my eyes could
English garden, at last reclaimed by its original maker,
first focus on it from my bedroom window. Over the years
nature herself.
the garden had become my conspirator, my solace, my confidante. We had an understanding. The garden was the reason we lived in that house. The garden was, in the end, the reason that my father wouldn’t leave it. My grandfather and mother died, and my brother
As I turned my back on the garden of my childhood for the last time, I began a journey to discover others; to find its reflection elsewhere, as well as new horizons. This is how I arrived at the door of Liverpool’s Botanic Gardens.
and I left home, all in quick succession. My father remained.
21
In the winters, he complained about rattling around in the
What’s in a name? Liverpool’s three botanic gardens
house like a pill and I would suggest he came to live near
have had many. It’s like a restless search for identity.
me in London. Estate agents would be consulted, and then
The first garden will always and forever be known as
the spring would come. The garden would begin its annual
‘Liverpool Botanic Gardens’ but the second has been
seduction, wooing my father with all that he had planted,
styled ‘Wavertree Botanic Gardens’, the ‘Botanic Gardens
over all those years so that he couldn’t bring himself to
at Edge Lane’ and ‘Edge Lane Botanic Gardens’. Today it is
leave. He would say to me: I sat outside in the garden today for
known as ‘Wavertree Botanic Walled Garden’ and the park
the first time and I looked out, the cherry blossom was coming
beyond is ‘Botanic Park.’ The third garden has been known
into flower, the Ceanothus is breaking through, and I thought to
respectively as ‘Liverpool Botanic Gardens’; ‘The Glass
myself, there is nowhere I would rather be. So my father stayed
Section of Liverpool Botanic Gardens’, ‘Harthill Botanic
and I visited. Instead of moving house he moved round each
Gardens’, ‘The City Of Liverpool Botanic Gardens’ and
of the now empty bedrooms, finally settling on my old room.
‘Calderstones and Harthill Botanic Gardens’. What is clear
He said to me: It’s so quiet. The view of the garden is so lovely.
to me of the third garden is that both Percy Conn and Jim
When I wake up in the morning it’s still there.
Muir intended that the whole of Calderstones Park to be
In all my family lived 30 years with the garden that my
considered the Botanic Gardens. But I don’t think others
father made. It was a garden of games, celebrations, sulks
saw it this way. For most people, the Botanic Gardens
and arguments. A garden of suppressed longings, of wild
were the glasshouses. Sometimes I think the failure to
abandon, a place to break very bad news, a place for illness
re-name the whole of Calderstones Park as the Botanic
and a place to mourn. It held us back, it brought us forth.
Gardens divided the tropical glass collection further from
Somehow it sustained us. It certainly survived us and I doubt
its outdoor cousins; just as the dried collection had been
it misses us.
distanced from the living plants when it was removed to
the museum in the early 1900s. Sir George Taylor said
origin. I’m told this led to some interesting personal trials
in his opening speech at Harthill in 1964 that he hoped
by botanic gardeners all of which (like the Customs and
the collections would be reunited by turning the Mansion
Excise experiment) failed when it was established that
House at Calderstones Park into the Botanical Library and
hemp requires a particular light spectra in order to produce
Herbarium. But it was never to be.
its ‘medicinal’ effects – ones filtered out by the regular
When I think about the course of the gardens, I think of these degrees of distance as leaving them vulnerable.
horticultural glass of which the houses were made. After the ‘economics’ came the ‘broms’, Bromeliads, for
Sometimes I wonder: could the tyrannies of the ’80s have
which the gardens had been famous for over a hundred
happened if the Botanic Gardens had kept its collections
years; these were grown by Bert Cross who was a highly
together? If the enclosed garden which forms the classical
regarded specialist. Following on came the orchid house
botanic template, had been configured at Harthill?
for which Liverpool was famed. This was tended by Olly
22
Maguire who had learnt his craft from Blackwood Dalgelish and Charles Potts. Working alongside him was one of the
Through the ’60s and the early ’70s the Botanic Gardens
few female horticulturalists at the gardens – Sheila Woods,
enjoyed a heyday and there are plenty who recall it. The
a consummate grower who had trained at Kew.
gardens were the ’jewel in the crown’ of Liverpool’s parks department – one of the most renowned in Britain. The glasshouses were undoubtedly the centrepiece.
House 6 continued with orchids, but in landscaped displays – exquisite settings of both terrestrial and epiphytic plants. Finally came two outstanding phenomena; the
They were ranged round a vast corridor and divided into
begonia house with its popular displays of the winter
the ‘private’ where the plant propagation took place, and
flowering ‘Gloire de Lorraine’ and a fernery, comprising a
the ‘public’, the show-houses. To be in charge of one of
huge wall constructed of tufa rock. This had been rescued
these was the goal of all who worked there. The entrance
from the rockery at the Wavertree gardens and according
vestibule (where you paid your 5p fee) held magnificent
to myth had originally come from the volcanic region of
tree ferns, some of the oldest plants in the collection, set
Southern Italy, brought to Liverpool as ship’s ballast – a fact
within a colourful changing scene of bulbs, Pelargoniums,
confirmed when the Geologist at the World Museum recently
Hippeastrum and Fuchsias, plants associated with the
analysed a remaining piece of it for me. The fernery was the
garden’s Edwardian era at Wavertree. Entering the main
domain of Lol Hulme whose knowledge was legendary. From
corridor, visitors would find climbing Hoyas, Peperomias and
this wall, echoing both earlier gardens, grew an extraordinary
Passifloras. Next grew insectivorous plants – Dionaea and
green tapestry of textured ferns both temperate and
Drosera echoes of John Shepherd’s earlier experiments
tropical; Davallias, Platycerium, Adiantums.
at Mount Pleasant. In House 1 grew Angelonia gardneri,
It was the final pièce de resistance of a truly remarkable
introduced from Brazil by George Gardner in 1838; Begonias,
collection belonging to the people of the city, and the city
and in rotation; Streptocarpus, Saintpaulas and Euphorbia.
visited just as they had done for 140 years. If you went to
House 2 held temperate plants; the Dragon’s Blood Tree,
the gardens on a Sunday you might have seen local solicitor
the Olive.
Rex Makin who told me that he and his wife used to go – the
Following through was a lush vista of tropical foliage.
Sun Lounge being the perfect place to retreat to on a cold
Mimosas, Bow String Hemp and Marantas, Palms, the Fiddle
winter’s day. I wonder if they ever passed by Paul Scragg,
Leaf Fig, Cycads and Nepanthes, then more ‘economics’
now the Director of Liverpool’s Parks? Paul told me that
– Sugar Cane and Cotton, Rubber Plants, Coca, Pepper
his first visit came quite by chance when he and his wife
and Henna, all labelled to demonstrate their use to the
were new to the city. Strolling through Calderstones Park
thousands of schoolchildren who were brought to the
one weekend he says he more or less stumbled upon the
gardens. Gardeners who worked there have told me that
range, having no idea of its existence. He recalls being
the ‘economics’ (especially the medicinal plants) were far
overwhelmed at the sheer scale of the diversity and planting,
from being mere curios. They were the subjects of various
one vista unfolding after another.
experiments, some more scientific than others. At one time
Robin Bloxsidge, now Editor of Liverpool University Press,
Customs and Excise had a deal whereby the numerous
has also said that it was this sense of the never-ending green
types of illegal hemp (Cannabis) seized at the port would
that lured him to the gardens. He was a student then and
be grown on in the botanic glasshouses, the differing
the glasshouses were the final destination of many walks he
strengths of which could determine the crop’s country of
used to take round Liverpool as a new undergraduate and