British Empire | Life in the English Cotswolds

The garden in winter; not the place where many of us loiter. Instead we race back to the house for a nice, warming cup of tea. On the way, we catch the scent from the Mahonia bush that thrives year after year on neglect. Hinting of lily-of-the-valley, it’s fragrant, primrose yellow sprays of flowers will continue to give pleasure until the spring, as will the white, winter-flowering honeysuckle. We stop just long enough to pick a few sprigs of jasmine, also pale yellow, to put in a vase. The list of so many of our favourite plants could go on and on.

Winter Jasmine, Jasminum nudiflorum

What do all these plants have in common apart from being easy to grow? They were all collected by a dour Scotsman in the mid-nineteenth century, Robert Fortune. Despite being garden favourites and he being heralded as one of the heroes of the Victorians his name today is all but forgotten. Even more remarkable, his discoveries changed society’s values, values that we now take for granted. And the cup of tea? Before Robert Fortune’s expedition to China, tea was an expensive commodity drunk only by the privileged few; soon it was to become the everyday drink of the masses.

Tea plantation

In 1843, having shown great ability as a plantsman, first in Edinburgh and then at Chiswick, Fortune was sent to China with the instruction to learn about the practice of using bonemeal and to collect “tea of differing qualities.” Commissioned for twelve months with a salary of £100 plus expenses, he proved so successful that he travelled for almost twenty years. Upon his arrival, he disliked both China and the Chinese intensely; their dislike of him (and foreigners, in general) was even greater. They refused to tell him where to find plants.

Bleeding Heart, Dicentra spectabilis, another Fortune introduction

Fortune, although rude and unsmiling, was also brave and on numerous occasions had to fend off thieves and pirates. Confined to his cabin, ill with a fever, his boat was abandoned and he was left to face his forty attackers singlehandedly. Firing into their midst he survived both the attack and the fever and continued to Shanghai. There he discovered the ‘Japanese’ Anemone, Anemone japonica, growing in great profusion on disturbed graves. Now popular in the autumn border, anyone who has tried to eradicate it knows that the brittle root breaks to regrow in even larger numbers. The graveyard story gave us ample warning of this.

Japanese Anemone

It is for tea that Robert Fortune really deserves greater recognition. The gardens of the tea plant, Camellia sinensis, were closely guarded by the Chinese. On a further expedition to China and disguised as a peasant, complete with shaved head and pigtail, he succeeded in sending over 100,000 seeds and seedlings to the East India Company. It was the foundation of an industry that would create great wealth for both individuals and Britain and reinforced the British belief in Empire.

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Apart from the ‘tea’ camellia, Robert Fortune also introduced a number of ornamental varieties

The winter-flowering Mahonia was also collected at this time. Believed to have magical properties it was almost unobtainable; in consequence, the entire stock of Mahonia in Europe and the USA descend from just three small plants. During Fortune’s fourth and final visit to China, Japan in 1859 opened its borders for the first time. One of the first Europeans to enter the country he collected large numbers of plants then unknown to Europe, including many types of chrysanthemum.

The purple berries of Mahonia appear after flowering

Robert Fortune’s legacy didn’t stop with the plants he introduced. The wonder his plants created when exhibited in London established the international reputation of the Horticultural Society as the centre of excellence. As the plants began to be distributed amongst the big, country estates the gentry started to take an interest in the growing of the plants themselves, something hitherto unknown. Soon they began to assist and then direct their garden staff, culminating in the revolutionary style of Gertrude Jekyll. Her approach is still a major influence on garden style and practice today. This, in turn, led to even greater demand for plants. To meet these needs, the horticultural industry worldwide is now a multi-billion pound industry. Amongst the thousands of plant types propagated for sale each year, Robert Fortune’s introductions are amongst the most popular and enduring.

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Rosa chinensis ‘Mutabilis’ whose flowers start with a deep pink bud before slowly fading to apricot

recommended reading:

A Journey to the Tea Countries of China, Robert Fortune, 1852

Life in the English Country House, M Girouard, 1979

The Plant Hunters, T Whittle, 1970

The Plant Hunters, C Lyte, 1983

and, of course, Wikipedia

A series of faded, sepia photographs have always been a mystery to me, just something else put into a cupboard and forgotten. Handed down through the generations they recently came to light once more and looked at with renewed interest. Who were these people and what connection might they have to my family? Two of the images were signed and with this name as my starting point the tale of their origin began to emerge. The story that is unfolding only deepens the mystery for they were part of the ‘Great Game’, a term I hadn’t come across before. Now, for me, it has two meanings: warmongering and my struggle to seek out the truth behind them.

Rudyard Kipling brought the ‘Great Game’ into everyday circles by using it in his novel Kim, published in 1901, although the term had been in use for many years before that. It described the cat and mouse rivalry between the British and Russian Empires that lasted throughout the nineteenth century.

Britain, alarmed at Russia’s expansion southwards, feared that Afghanistan would be used as the gateway to an invasion of India. To avoid this, troops were sent to install a puppet government in Kabul but within four years order was breaking down and the garrison was forced to retreat. Caught in a series of ambushes, Afghan warriors slaughtered all but one of the 4500 troops and 12000 followers. By 1878 the British invaded again following the Afghani’s refusal to allow a diplomatic mission to visit. A treaty was signed and the army withdrew leaving a small staff in Kabul: in the autumn of the following year they were killed leading to full-scale war – the Second Anglo-Afghan War. Travelling with the British army was a freelance photographer, John Burke, and it is his signature that appears on my photos.

History, as we all know, has a habit of repeating itself and sadly the rivalry between Russia and the West over Afghanistan has continued. Inspired by John Burke, the war photographer Simon Norfolk has carried out a new series of images. Intriguingly, he lists all of Burke’s plate numbers – the two of mine that are numbered are left blank so perhaps this is the first time they have been seen; rather an amazing thought.

All that is left now – and no mean feat – is to identify the places and the regiments and to find out where (and if) my family fit into all of this. I have been helped along the way by enthusiasts from a Facebook group. One of them, Arnie Manifold, has an ancestor that fought there and it is his medals that are shown in the image below. Wouldn’t it be extraordinary if we discovered his face on one of these old photos?

To view Simon Norfolk’s website and more information on John Burke, click here

To find out how a series of colourful postcards, brought back by my father from WWII, led to the discovery of a German fairy-tale castle, a love affair and an epic poem, click here.