The Shakespeare Garden — Edition Insights

A Student of Shakespeare and Gardens

Singleton presents herself as a devoted student of Shakespeare who discovered that existing works did not adequately treat the Elizabethan garden. She notes that Shakespeare loved flowers that “paint the meadows with delight,” citing specific blossoms such as wild thyme, nodding violets, eglantine, honeysuckle, cowslips, harebells, daffodils, marigolds, musk-rose, lilies, and flower-de-luce. She also mentions “outlandish” flowers newly introduced from Constantinople and the West Indies. This list is not random; it establishes the range of plants Singleton will later examine in detail. She claims Shakespeare visited the gardens of Gerard, Parkinson, Lord Zouche, and Lord Burleigh, though the excerpts do not provide direct evidence for these visits. The preface thus sets up a method of inference: because Shakespeare wrote about gardens, he must have seen specific ones.

The Carnation and Its Many Names

In the chapter on carnations and gilliflowers, Singleton traces the plant's nomenclature and history. She notes that the carnation was originally spelled coronation because it was used for garlands. The Latin name dianthus means flower of Jove. Chaucer knew it as the “Clove Gilliflower,” and it was called “sops in wine” because it flavored drinks. Singleton quotes Spenser's Shepherd's Calendar to show the plant's place in English verse. She then cites Ellacombe on the name Caryophyllus, meaning nut-leaved, which was transferred from the Indian clove tree. The passage demonstrates Singleton's method: she moves from Shakespeare's text (Perdita's “fairest flowers o' the season”) to historical etymology, literary references, and botanical history. She also notes that the carnation was naturalized on Norman castles, possibly introduced by Norman builders.

Gerard and Parkinson on Infinite Varieties

Singleton draws heavily on Elizabethan herbalists. She quotes Gerard, who wrote that a large volume would not suffice to describe all the sorts of carnations, pinks, and gilliflowers, “considering how infinite they are, and how every year, every climate and country bringeth forth new sorts.” Parkinson similarly declared the number “so great” that separate descriptions would be endless. Singleton uses these authorities to show that Shakespeare's contemporaries were already overwhelmed by floral diversity. She lists Parkinson's favorite carnations: the Great Harwich, Red or Clove Gilloflower, Yellow or Orange Tawny Gilloflower, and the Gray, Red, and Blue Hulo. These names, now obscure, indicate the range of cultivars in the period. Singleton does not simply report; she selects details that illuminate the gap between modern and Elizabethan gardening knowledge.

The Tudor Garden as a Stage

Singleton argues that when Shakespeare calls for a garden scene, he imagines the “stately garden” of a Tudor estate, with terraces, knots, and arbors. She cites Twelfth Night, Romeo and Juliet, and King Richard II as examples. In Love's Labour's Lost, the “curious knotted garden” is mentioned. Singleton notes that the authorities at Stratford-upon-Avon have rearranged Shakespeare's birthplace garden to reflect Elizabethan knots and seasonal flowers. This section connects the literary garden to actual reconstructed spaces. The author's voice is that of a guide who has visited these gardens and studied the plans. She treats the plays as evidence for garden design, not just poetic imagery. The result is a book that functions as both a literary companion and a practical horticultural history.

Singleton's book rewards readers who want to see Shakespeare's flowers as more than decoration. By tracing each plant through period sources, she shows how the plays encode a living horticultural world. The excerpts suggest a work of careful scholarship, though the full text may contain more speculative claims. Readers interested in garden history will find a useful compendium of Elizabethan plant names and garden features, while Shakespeare students can use it to check the botanical accuracy of the plays. The book is best read alongside the plays themselves, with a garden perhaps nearby.

That afternoon, rain drummed the windows while I traced The Shakespeare Garden — Edition Insights, pausing at carnations and gilliflowers, wondering how Tudor hands knew such precise blooms. My mind drifted to soil itself, to the labor behind the fragrance, and soon I was turning pages of Agriculture for Beginners Revised Edition — Story, Setting & Ideas, as if one garden had quietly opened a gate into another.