Gardening for women — Text and Context

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Wolseley, Frances Garnet, Viscountess, 1872-1936 Project Gutenberg 2023 Not confirmed
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Words 67,331
Reading time 293 min
Text sections 25

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Frances Wolseley's 1908 manual combines practical horticulture with advocacy for women's professional gardening, drawing on her role as principal of the Glynde School for Lady Gardeners. The book details training, dress, and employment, while also surveying international schools and including syllabi from London County Council courses.
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markets, advance must be kept of others. It well repays to have green peas a fortnight before your neighbour, and more money is made if the supply of choice vegetables can be prolonged throughout the winter months. Then, again, white flowers sell better than others. These and many other tricks of the trade are not learned in an amateur way. They have to be studied under a competent master. Flowers have to be picked before the sun has opened them; they have to be packed with skill, and only certain kinds will travel well. Experience is necessary in order to know the right kind of foliage to send away with flowers.

So much, indeed, has to be learnt which cannot well be acquired at a college, that I strongly advise apprenticeship for a year or two to a nursery gardener. If it is preferred to study first at a school where surplus flowers and vegetables are sold, a good foundation of knowledge can be laid, which is considerably added to later in a market garden. I would suggest at least four years’ training for this particular branch of Horticulture.

An apprentice might well suppose that many secrets of the trade would be revealed to her. But this may prove to be a mistake. Business people are cautious as to what information they impart, and possibly more is to be acquired by keeping eyes and ears well open. Constant and careful inquiries should be made as to the price obtained for various vegetable produce, and the most likely quarters where there is a demand for it in that particular part of the country.

I am inclined to think, however, that the most useful business information is to be gained during the first year or two’s work in one’s own garden. It is gloomy to foretell such things, but mistakes are sure to happen, and from experience comes knowledge. To lose one’s own money hurts more than to see others lose.

Should the intending market gardener be a free agent, and able to select any part of England for her garden, there are two important matters for her to weigh. Where will be the best market, and what land has the most plentiful supply of water? Probably for the first venture the neighbourhood of a large seaside town, a watering-place or golf links, will be a safer market than London, which is so large and well supplied. It should be ascertained who the most likely customers will be--schools, boarding-houses, private families, etc., and the garden should be adapted to supply their wants.

Many are the ways of arranging work in a market garden. A lady of ample means can afford to keep an experienced foreman, a large staff, and horses and vans. By paying the head man so much per cent. upon the sale of produce, his interest in the concern will be kept alive. In this case a thoroughly dependable and honest man is necessary. Should more scope for energy be needed it will be advisable for the principal to do the secretarial work, decide the rotation of crops, conduct the sale transactions, as well as attend to the social part of the business. She should also supervise most of the operations and have good skilled labour to carry out all manual work.

If it can be avoided a field should not be converted into a market garden. The money that necessarily has to be spent at the start will more quickly be repaid if land is worked which has been used as a garden before. However good the soil, climate, and situation may be, a garden can only barely pay its way during the first two years on account of the many expenses that have to be met.

As opinions can best be formed by hearing real experiences, I propose inserting the following letter, written by one who has known what it is to overcome obstacles, and finally reach well-earned success. This interesting letter and several detailed accounts of market gardens given on p. 253 show what a suitable career this is for a woman. One, too, which will bring not only health and happiness from work in the open, but considerable remuneration, if it be carefully and well conducted.

BASHLEY NURSERY, NEW-MILTON, HAMPSHIRE, _October 11th, 1907_.

In answer to your request for information about my market garden here, I think it will be best if I give you a short history of the undertaking. I bought six acres of land here fifteen years ago, with a view to start a garden on a more or less remunerative footing. I had been brought up in a town, but had always been fond of botany--of plants as individuals--and as years went on, felt drawn to a country life. I got to know something of cultivated plants by studying in the Botanic Gardens at Cambridge, where I lived. I hired a quarter-acre allotment in a field let out in that way. I got very much interested in it, and decided to go in for a country life with a garden, which I hoped to make pay its way, if not more. I studied gardening for two years with a family who had taken up market gardening in Wales, and proceeded to buy a small plot of land to begin upon. I had enough capital to start a place and build a small house for myself, and, fortunately enough, means to live upon in a somewhat bare way. I did not feel the least sanguine of making ends more than meet, and this was fortunate, as for many years it was a most unpromising and expensive undertaking. I was entirely without business knowledge in general, or of any of the detailed knowledge of the horticultural trade, and also, being town-bred, I was led into many errors. The soil proved poor and sour from lack of draining, and thickly infested with wire-worms, and being far from any town (Bournemouth, nine miles, being the nearest) there was absolutely no local demand for anything. I should say one of the main points in starting any place of the kind is to be near some town. I had not originally intended to go in for market gardening, but circumstances seemed to favour it more than any other branch, of gardening, so after many misgivings and qualms at further sinking of capital, I put up a block of five greenhouses, each 100 feet by 12 feet. This necessitated having a skilled man to live on the place, and consequently the building of a cottage, as there was none near. I intended to grow tomatoes for Bournemouth market, followed by chrysanthemums and other winter crops. The first season of tomato growing proved enough of a success to encourage me to persevere, and I bought a horse and van to begin a trade with Bournemouth shops, and engaged a man as salesman. On the whole this proved a success from the first. Our chief crops to start with were tomatoes in the houses, followed by chrysanthemums for cut flowers in the winter, and out of doors a variety of plants for cut flowers, especially early flowering chrysanthemums, also strawberries, rhubarb, and vegetable marrows. After a short time we took up narcissus, forcing for a spring crop, followed by bedding plants in pots and boxes, and a variety of pot-plants, such as genistas, ferns, cyclamen, freesia, and pelargoniums.

After a few years I bought nine acres more, adjoining the first field, and two years ago I bought another small field of four acres. A few years ago I was able greatly to improve our water supply, and to put up an engine for pumping all water used in the houses, and to build a second cottage for workmen. My original staff consisted of one labourer; it is now about nine men and boys. Last year I was able to add a large tomato house 100 feet by 30 feet, and a small fernery.

Whilst living here the neighbourhood has become a residential one, and consequently a good deal of trade has come from the immediate locality.

A good many people are glad to have their gardens superintended, or to have suggestions about the laying out of their borders.

I cannot say I have ever found it a very remunerative undertaking; it has certainly been a laborious one, but to me it has been immensely enjoyable.

Other crops we grow out of doors are gooseberries, raspberries and currants, and large quantities of roots, such as pansies, polyanthus, wallflower, forget-me-not, for spring bedding. Among the out-of-door flowers for cutting the chief are: narcissi, chrysanthemums, roses, carnations, violets, gypsophila, sweet-peas, marguerites, dahlias, astors, coreopsis, mignonette, gladioli, Spanish iris, pæonies, scabious, alstromœria, daisies, and many others. We also have a number of herbaceous plants and a good many shrubs to supply retail customers.

I am, yours faithfully, A. BATESON.

THE MEDICAL ASPECT OF GARDENING FOR WOMEN

Anxious parents often ask whether gardening is a really healthy occupation for their daughters. These doubts, shared by many, are perhaps not so easily dispelled as, at the outset, might be supposed. We are all prone to view with suspicion any project which has for its purpose the fitting of women for the more arduous tasks of life. “For men must work and women must weep” is what we are accustomed to hear. We know that amongst all primitive peoples it has been found that women are capable physically of carrying out hard work in the open. We have evidence to prove that crofter women, those engaged at coal-pit mouths, women peasants in France and Germany, North American Indians, African races and the aborigines of Australia, are not less long-lived than their more favoured sisters in leisured countries. Amongst civilised races, however, the principle is upheld that only light tasks are relegated to women, and surely so it should be. The charm of woman lies in her softness and gentleness. Must we not preserve this above all else?

Thus the father of a family views with alarm the profession of a gardener, when it is first suggested to him for one of his daughters. It seems undesirable to him that she, who has been accustomed to gentle living and refinement, should lead the monotonous, solitary life which he pictures it to be. He sees her, in imagination, constantly weeding and digging amongst plants, without leisure during the day for any of the relaxation to be found in mental employment or development, and returning home at night physically exhausted. Her mother thinks that rough exposure to all weathers will play havoc with a good complexion; visions of a brown sunburnt face, or a wrinkled parchment one, knotted fingers, stiff joints, uneven shoulders, rise up to alarm her. Many are the prophetic croaks that the young girl hears about rheumatism and age before its time, or misgivings as to the results of digging and trenching and the bad effect they may have on back and hip muscles. I know one young woman who was so frightened lest she should develop a huge hump on her back from stooping, like the old road-mender whom she met daily, that she always laid down quite flat on her bed, during rest hours, to counteract any harm that might be likely to come to her.

It is most natural that many should be alarmed and have a strong disinclination to advise gardening as a healthy profession. I cannot help thinking that they may alter their views when they realise fully that it is not hard manual work that is needed of women in this profession. They are not meant to do spade-work like the ordinary labouring man; we have plenty of fine, strong hulking men who do this, but we do need more directing heads to plan out work and guide others. This is what lady gardeners are to do. It has become evident, in recent years, that women have determined to shake themselves free from former occupations and interests. They intend to apply their energy in new directions. Frequently, it must be admitted by all, they are successful. Practical experience shows us that women can acquit themselves with honour and success in games and in the pursuit of sports, which formerly were reserved only for men. Hunting, shooting, golf, cricket, swimming, hockey, climbing and walking are acknowledged to be fields of activity in which women may safely indulge. In Jane Austen’s day such pursuits were considered not only dangerous to health, but likely to produce awkwardness of figure and ungainliness of movement. Physical activity was supposed to unfit young girls for society. Things are changed since then, and although many of us see with regret some loss of feminine softness and charm in occasional specimens of the new woman, we cannot put all the evils to the profession of gardening. There must always, I suppose, be eccentric individuals who exaggerate their peculiarities, but these exist in all professions, and classes.

Much attention is now paid to the physical development of girls and young women in our schools, and we cannot fail to see the immense advantage gained by comparison through this over the results of early Victorian education. We have all, it is to be hoped, learnt that open air life is no longer a privileged form of existence suited only to men. We know that it is, when carried out on sensible lines of moderation, immensely helpful to women. The medical world has lately been awakened to the importance of improving the physique of our young people. Both Sir Lauder Brunton and Sir John Cockburn (chairman of the Swanley Horticultural College for Women) have impressed this fact openly upon the world. We see daily before us leisured women who from lack of pleasant, wholesome interests and bodily exercise, without scope for reasonable aspirations, have become anæmic parodies of the sex. The insidious malady which dogs the steps of a nation’s progress towards highly cultured, unlimited leisure and freedom, masquerades under the old-fashioned term “_ennui_” or the new-fangled names of nervous exhaustion, break-down, overwork (!), hysteria, decadence.

I believe I am justified in saying that medical men, who can appreciate the often aimless, humdrum existence of many women of the wealthier classes and the debility of those in our large towns, find in gardening a good agent for the removal of such evils. Possibly a year spent in rising early, out in sun and rain, with simple food, pure interests, physical exercise, does more for some than many medicine bottles, rest cures, Swedish movements, and other modern remedies. The same may be said for those who are mentally troubled--insane, that is, in a legal sense. The managers of our asylums are appreciating more each year the benefits to be derived by occupations. In this instance such interests act not only upon the individual, but also upon the health of a nation.

No one who has given the least attention to the advances made in the modern treatment of pulmonary tuberculosis can fail to recognise that open-air treatment has proved to be of immense value to sufferers from consumption, and that by its means cure, in the real sense of the term, may be established. It is a matter of national gratification that this sensible mode of cure should have been initiated in this country, by Bodington and MacCormac, years before it was adopted elsewhere. It is an instance of our national slowness to do what is obviously right, that our Continental neighbours have, till recent years, outstripped us in the perfection of these methods of cure. Our own pioneers, too, have been subjected to ridicule and temporary obloquy. We now know that though outdoor life at high altitudes is especially successful in the treatment of tuberculosis, high altitude is not a necessity. A cure can be effected in the lower altitudes of our own country, so long as the principle is maintained of a constantly “open window.”

Quite recently practical proof has been brought forward by Dr. M. S. Paterson, of the Brompton Hospital Sanatorium at Frimley, which shows that even the success of the Continental patterns of sanatoria can be greatly enhanced by allowing the sufferers to work in the gardens. By giving them this healthy employment they harden themselves, and instead of being confirmed idlers, they leave the institution vigorous in muscle, as well as healed of their lung trouble. The patients, men and women, are encouraged to execute all the lighter duties of gardeners, and the more robust of the men are allowed to excavate and trench ground. All minor ailments, such as nasal catarrh, or “common cold,” bronchitis, sore throat, headaches and muscular rheumatism, are remediable by means of a life regulated in accordance with the principle of the “open window.” It can hardly be doubted, therefore, that if those exercises which take the form of outdoor games are in part replaced by the more primitive and infinitely more profitable ones of gardening and botanical study, the same excellent effects will be realised.

Those who advocate gardening for women do not seek to deprive them of intellectual pursuits through a constant devotion to physical effort. They wish to secure to them the certain assurance of a healthy physical state by moderate devotion to a refined and pleasant occupation. Direct experience is fortunately available to carry conviction on this point to those who consider it with proper calmness and reasonableness. Healthy women who have essayed the experiment of gardening have no sort of doubt as to the beneficial results to be derived from it. Again and again it has been found, not only by devotees themselves, but by others whose training as medical men and women has enabled them to detect any undesirable results, that gardening is little short of an unmixed blessing. One distinguished medical authority who has made the agricultural education of women a life-long study, says that the young women who have taken up gardening as a profession are in consequence “as lithe as panthers and of splendid physique.”

Not only, therefore, does such a life increase muscular development and consequently help circulatory, respiratory, digestive and other normal processes, but it helps to make a healthy mind. If a serious bit of thinking has to be done, a piece of trenching or some purely mechanical exercise will greatly assist the brain. To quote a passage upon digging from Mr. Halsham’s admirable book, “Every Man His Own Gardener,” “You will find that the mind is not merely left free for all the valuable reflections which may occur to it, but that the attention necessary for the job takes up and keeps employed and quiet some subordinate activities of the understanding which in times of repose are often decidedly troublesome.”

I should like to quote a passage, too, from Ruskin’s “Sesame and Lilies,” which seems to me very applicable to the case in point. In showing us the power of woman, he says: “The first of our duties to her--no thoughtful persons now doubt this--is to secure for her such physical training and exercise as may confirm her health, and perfect her beauty, the highest refinement of that beauty being unattainable without splendour of activity and of delicate strength. To perfect her beauty, I say, and increase its power, it cannot be too powerful, nor shed its sacred light too far; only remember that all physical freedom is vain to produce beauty without a corresponding freedom of heart.” Then follows the quotation which we all know so well, and which shows us the “vital feeling of delight” which true love of nature, and all the lovely things in nature, give us--“Thus, then, you have first to mould her physical frame, and then, as the strength she gains will permit you, to fill and temper her mind with all knowledge and thoughts which tend to confirm its natural instincts of justice, and refine its natural taste of love.”

I ask what can more readily lead to the fulfilment of this ideal than a life of quiet, peaceful interests in the company of the pure and lovable companionship of flowers? What can bring healthier happiness than watching for those harbingers of the new flower year, the little green heads of Winter Aconite that come pushing so determinedly through the brown earth, and are followed later by little golden heads of flower? What can give greater intellectual and artistic pleasure and scope for imagination than planning the herbaceous border which is to be bright with colour all the year? Careful study and much reading are needed, but happy evenings fly speedily by, as you gaze into the fire and plan a lovely summer dream garden. Then, too, there is the interest of arranging work for others, marshalling the men at your command and apportioning the work to their different characters and temperaments. It is indeed no monotonous, unintellectual life.

Frances Wolseley opens Gardening for Women not with planting instructions but with a profession: the book is framed as a guide to making gardening a paid career for women. As principal of the Glynde School for Lady Gardeners in Sussex, Wolseley writes from direct institutional experience. The volume mixes practical chapters on soil, propagation, and market gardening with sections on dress, cottage living, and the medical aspects of the work. A substantial portion surveys existing training programs in Britain, continental Europe, America, Canada, and Australia, and includes detailed syllabi from London County Council evening classes. The result is a document that is part handbook, part advocacy, and part international survey—all anchored to the specific conditions of early twentieth-century women seeking skilled outdoor employment.

A Profession, Not a Pastime

Wolseley’s opening chapter is titled “Gardening as a Profession for Women,” and the word profession does real work throughout the book. She addresses women who want to earn a living, not merely to tend a private flower border. The table of contents lists chapters on “Jobbing Gardening and Floral Decoration,” “Market Gardening,” and “Some Hints upon Taking Up a Post as Head Gardener”—each treating gardening as a structured occupation with standards, wages, and advancement. The frontispiece shows “A Pupil in Working Costume” at Glynde, and a later chapter is devoted entirely to “Dress for Lady Gardeners,” treating clothing as practical equipment rather than ornament. Wolseley also includes a chapter titled “For Those who Hesitate to Employ Lady Gardeners,” which suggests she anticipated skepticism from potential employers and wrote to counter it with evidence of competence.

Training Grounds and Syllabi

Part II of the book is a detailed survey of schools and colleges for lady gardeners in Great Britain, continental Europe, America, Canada, and Australia. Wolseley lists institutions, describes their programs, and in some cases reproduces their syllabi verbatim. For example, she includes the full syllabus for a London County Council horticulture course at Brownhill Road Evening Centre, Catford, which covers “the cultivation of vegetables, hardy fruit, etc.; the management of the orchard house, flower garden, flowers under glass, seed growing, propagation.” She also prints the syllabus for a biology and nature-study course at the same centre, taught by Mr. G. Alford, which includes investigation of “external features, general structure, mode of life, surroundings, life-history, and habits of flowering plants, yeast, frog, amœba.” These inclusions give the book a documentary quality, preserving the exact curriculum that early twentieth-century women students would have followed.

International Scope and Local Detail

Wolseley’s survey extends well beyond Britain. She devotes chapters to continental schools and colleges, to schools and colleges in America, and to “Gardening and Nature-Study in Canada and Australia.” The American chapter lists institutions and describes their approaches, while the Canadian and Australian chapter addresses the specific conditions of those colonies. At the same time, the book is rooted in Sussex: the Glynde school appears repeatedly, and photographs show its walled garden, cottage, and pupils at work. Wolseley also includes a chapter on “Italian Pot Gardens: A Suggestion,” which proposes a decorative style using terracotta pots and oil jars—illustrated with photographs of “Italian Orange Pots and Oil Jars.” This combination of local practice, national advocacy, and international comparison gives the book a distinctive range, moving from the practical details of a single school to a global view of women’s horticultural education.

Readers coming to Gardening for Women for planting advice will find it, but the book’s real subject is the infrastructure of a profession: training, dress, wages, employer attitudes, and the geography of opportunity. Wolseley’s voice is that of an administrator and advocate, not a memoirist. The syllabi and school lists are not appendices but central evidence. For anyone interested in the history of women’s work, agricultural education, or the Edwardian gardening movement, this is a primary document of unusual breadth.

Reading Wolseley’s practical pages, I remembered my grandmother’s hands patting soil around sweet peas, her quiet certainty that work and worth were the same thing. That same sturdy dignity lives in The English Husbandman The First Part: Contayning the Knowledge of the true Nature of euery Soyle within this Kingdome: how to Plow it; and the manner of the Plough, and — Reading Companion, where an older voice treats land and labor with the same unhurried reverence.

Grayson Wilson
3 weeks ago

Camila Young
4 weeks ago

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