Miss [Gertrude] Jekyll, revered for her perfection of the herbaceous border, engaged in some unique gardening practices. A witness to her planting method for Lilium giganteum (now called Cardiocrinum giganteum) bulbs once deemed Jekyll a sorceress. On that day, having dug a sizable hole and added some leaf mold and sand, the famed gardener also tossed in a freshly killed rabbit. Then she counseled, “Now, always seat the bulbs clockwise,” a task she accomplished with a firm rightward twist before filling in the hole with topsoil. Four months later, she apparently had lilies just a hare under five feet tall.
Once, ostensibly to entertain her niece, she organized an elaborate tea party for her six cats and kittens with written invitations, an elegantly set table, and a selection of kitty delicacies artistically arranged on saucers. Guests were seated on stools, paws resting on table, except for Miss Maggie, a cat who evidently felt it discourteous to put her feet on the tablecloth. The event was apparently well received, as, according to one biographer, “a grand purring and washing of faces” followed.
Of decidedly different temperament was William Robinson, popularizer of the trend of natural gardening. At age 21, while working in the greenhouse of a large Irish country estate, he was entrusted with the care of some tender plants that had been lovingly nurtured from seed. On a bitter cold night, after an equally bitter quarrel with his superior, Robinson allowed the greenhouse fires to die out and, after flinging the windows wide open, hotfooted it off to Dublin, never to return. Whether he was intentionally negligent was never quite determined, but after making his fortune, Robinson banned greenhouses from his own garden forever.
Read the rest of Eccentric Enthusiasts — Stories from the Far Side of the Garden at the Brooklyn Botanic Garden site.