August 14, 1886. 
THE GARDENING WORLD 
793 
of the swindling fraternity, including the light-fingered 
professors of various branches of palmistry, from the 
manipulator of the whirling disk on which the incipient 
speculator ventured his penny on the sections of red, 
white, and blue, to the more dangerous and fascinating 
card-sharper, who invited the onlooker to hack his 
opinion, stake his half-sovereign, and “ name the 
Jack.” Thither flocked the people with “brains,” and 
the less fortunate ones with “money” only. Close 
by, in fitting proximity, was the notorious Red House 
—the Hurlingham of those days—and on the outskirts 
of the enclosure hung many poorer brethren of the 
sporting fraternity, with guns and dogs, on the watch 
for the pigeons that escaped, fluttering and maimed, 
from the murderous fire within. 
"We will not attempt to describe the scenes of in¬ 
decency, the hooting and clamour, the drunken de¬ 
bauchery, the fiendish cruelty, the coarse brutality, 
Early in ’54 might have been observed from the roof 
of the Red House, tokens of the impending change. 
Long lines of barges followed the labouring steam tugs 
along the restless bosom of the Thames, discharging 
their huge cargoes of rubbish—the debris of great Lon¬ 
don—by the high water mark. For a time one intoler¬ 
able nuisance made way for another. Mephitic vapours 
hung over this Valley of Hennom, concealing the swarms 
of swart navvies busy with pick and shovel beneath, 
until the foundations of Battersea Park were laid. 
Here the surface rose into little hills, there it sank into 
dells or stretched away in level plains. If the anti¬ 
quarian contemporaries of Macaulay’s Hew Zealander 
should happen to excavate there, they will discover, no 
doubt, numerous fragments of ancient pottery of the 
once famous willow pattern, a miscellaneous assemblage 
of antique hardware, and, strange to say, a large num¬ 
ber of cylindrical and cubical vessels, in some of which 
and rockeries, pools with rafts of Lilies and fringes of 
flags and silver-plumed reeds, cascades and rustic 
bridges, cool shady recesses and ferny dells, stately 
Aloes and Palms, Daturas, Ficuses and Cannas, and a 
host of choice exotics, masses of brilliant colours and 
elegant forms bewildering in their variety and richness, 
delightful to lovers of the picturesque, curious and 
interesting as specimens of plant life, inspiring and 
refreshing to wearied workers from the Babel of bricks 
and mortar beyond. Turn we now for a moment to 
the social and aesthetic aspect, and the physical advan¬ 
tages conferred by the opportunities for recreation. 
The metamorphosis from the dismal swamp of Battersea 
Fields is not more striking and salutary than the 
change resulting in the improved tastes and diversions 
of the mirltitudes who frequent the Park and Gardens. 
The mere presence of flowers in beautiful and orderly 
arrangement and disposition is an impressive and effec- 
Dekdeobium superbiens. 
and the blasphemy that characterised these Sunday 
gatherings -in Battersea Fields. For years the respect¬ 
able inhabitants of the neighbourhood protested in 
vain, until at last the nuisance became intolerable. 
Then came, just in the nick of time, one Farrer, a man 
with an idea, and faith, and persistence enough to force 
it upon the attention of the public. Bumbledom stood 
aghast at the notion nf laying out a park and gardens 
for the use and enjoyment of the “common people.” 
“What! flower gardens and park for such folk!” 
exclaimed theturtle-soupists. “Preposterous ! absurd ! 
mischievous ! revolutionary ! What next ? You’ll 
want to eddycate ’em all soon. And then where’s our 
servants to come from ? Who’s to groom our ’orses ? 
and dig our gardings ? and clean our boots ? No ; let 
’em do their dooty in that state of life unto which they 
is called, and learn to be lowly and reverent to all their 
betters.” But the fiat, nevertheless, went forth, and 
in less than three years the 250 acres of utter abomi¬ 
nation, with the indescribable flotsam and jetsam of 
the dirty river, and its miasma, physical and social, 
gave place to one of the prettiest and most picturesque 
public parks, pleasure grounds, and gardens in all 
England. 
the hones of Australian and New Zealand sheep were 
discovered. There are vast accumulations of these 
interesting relics, it will no doubt be observed— 
sufficient, we may add, to furnish specimens to each 
town and village museum. As yet the scene is an 
irregular verdureless waste, except where a few Elms 
and Poplars and an Ash tree or two dot the sombre 
expanse. Then came a thick deposit of surface soil, 
black and unctious, and a garniture of emerald sward, 
evergreens, flowering shrubs, and trees of quick growth. 
The shady avenue of Elms was planted then, and, 
indeed, nearly all the trees and shrubs, beside the 
aforesaid veterans. Last of all the lakes were filled, 
and the picture so far was complete. Such was the 
aspect of the converted Battersea Fields when Farrer 
was succeeded by Gibson, the originator of the most 
attractive and interesting feature of the Park—the 
famous Sub-tropical gardens. 
An artist of a colossal sort was this Gibson—his 
canvas an expanse of two hundred and fifty acres, his 
material a wealth of glowing colours and subtle tones 
from fair Flora’s palette. Then came the brilliant 
sequence of floral pictures, each in a setting of dense 
foliage, a garden of glades and vistas, sloping lawns 
tual lesson even to the most illiterate. The eye turns 
instinctively over and over again to the chaste and 
beautiful forms—the floral gems in emerald-foil—as 
eagerly as the ear listens to songs of birds or harmonies 
of sweet sounds, until vulgar finery is as distasteful 
and offensive as discordant noise. 
Someone (Paley, we think) describes an incident of 
the coast. It is a fine day, and the little waves are 
sparkling in the sunshine, as the silver fringe spreads 
softly over the dove-coloured sands. A few yards off an 
apparent mist, or mirage, suddenly covers the water, ac¬ 
companied by the sound of multitudinous pattering rain¬ 
drops. It arises from myriads of shrimps at play. "We 
are then asked to imagine the sum total of enjoyment 
of this mile long strata of humble Crustacea. As im¬ 
possible it would be to reckon the aggregate of delight 
experienced by the multitudes of happy children with 
the blue sky above them, green turf beneath, and 
around them a garniture of bright colours and hosts 
of twinkling leaves. But it may be said all is so un¬ 
natural, so extremely artificial. Yet birds build their 
nests, and bees and butterflies sip honey here. A few 
years ago there were nightingales, but even now there 
are a great number of blackbirds and thrushes that nest 
