Dear Readers, on Tuesday I took a trip to deepest darkest Enfield with my friend L to see Myddelton House Gardens. Enfield is one of those places that is no distance from East Finchley as the crow flies, but is a complete pain to get to on public transport, so I was very glad to be able to get a lift and we seemed to have timed it perfectly for the spring flowers – my photos don’t really do it justice, so if you’re in London and fancy a trip in the next week or so, you won’t be sorry.

The gardens were the work of Edward Augustus Bowles, who was born in 1865 and, after a projected career as a priest changed course to become one of the greatest self-taught botanists and horticulturalists of the 20th century. In particular he was known as ‘the Crocus king’, and people travelled from all over the country to see his collection. He brought back all sorts of wacky plants from his world travels (we’ll see a few examples later) including one which many people would probably prefer that he’d left where it was.

The house was named for Sir Hugh Myddelton, the engineer who created the New River, part of which bisected the gardens until as late as 1968.

I should like to point out that before exploring the gardens there are very good toasted teacakes in the café, and furthermore the gardens are free to visit.

Onwards!

The snowdrops are spectacular – there are a number of varieties, plus winter aconites and hellebores and early crocuses. I love these spring ephemerals, they lighten the heart.

There are spectacular specimen trees, including some fine conifers, and we saw (but as usual I wasn’t able to photograph) a pair of goldcrests piping about in the foliage.

My friend L likes these stone troughs, and I agree, they’re perfect for stonecrops and other small alpines.

No apologies for a few more winter aconites , and the berries of some stinking iris, so bright against the whiteness of the snowdrops.

And what on earth is this? Bowles collected some very unusual plants, and some of these are contained in what are described as ‘Lunatic Asylum’ beds.

This is the Anchor plant (Colletia paradoxa), a South American plant which is part of the Buckthorn family. The plant has tiny leaves, sweet-smelling white flowers and the most impressive thorns that I’ve ever seen – some plant sites recommend siting it away from small children or pets who might bump into it. I assume that the thorns photosynthesise, but must do some more research. And what on earth are the thorns defending the plant against, or is it more to do with protecting against water loss?  I have never seen one before, and was very impressed.

Through the arch and into the kitchen garden, which is looking a bit bare at this time of year…

I imagine that this plaster hawk doesn’t scare the pigeons too much, especially at its current angle…

And look at this iris. I’ve never gotten irises to go in my garden (except for the yellow flag in the pond which, to be honest, goes rather too well), but I do admire them.

And here’s a conundrum, to me at least. This otherwise healthy-looking cherry laurel has curly leaves. I wondered if it had a virus, but L thought that it was a healthy variety. She was right! It’s Prunus laurocerasus ‘Camelliifolia’ or Curly-leaved Cherry Laurel. So there you go. For me, it comes under the heading of things that probably shouldn’t be encouraged, like flat-faced dogs or short-legged cats, but the plant was doing well so maybe I’m being mean.

There are some wild-type daffodils (very rare in the UK, and in the ‘wild’ pretty much confined to a couple of places in Wales, so it’s nice to see them being encouraged here).

Some very unusual snowdrops with long, thin petals – I’m not sure of the variety so shout if you know!

And some spring snowflakes (Leucojum vernalis) – easily mistaken for snowdrops, these have little ‘hats’, with a green mark on each petal.

We think that these are Chionodoxa (Scilla) and very pretty they are too, with their blue petals and red stems. I am envious as after planting about 100 in my garden not a single one has come up, probably snaffled by squirrels.

And then we turn for home. This is a nicely accessible garden in the most part, there were several ladies out for a constitutional with their walking frames.

But what is this all-too familiar plant?

Yes, it’s Japanese Knotweed! We love Mr Bowles, but he was the person who introduced it to the UK after his travels in the Far East. The Victorians did love to plunder the riches of the places that they visited/colonised and to bring prime plants home for their gardens – both Giant Hogweed and Himalayan Balsam were originally Victorian specimen plants that ‘jumped the fence’, and while they might be fine in a garden they are definitely not fine along a riverbank. Hey ho. I was amused to see the Japanese Knotweed in a cage, but I suspect it’s more to stop it flopping and deter people from trampling it all over the rest of the garden. Interestingly, it seems to have worked so far.

Incidentally, that remarkable perennial wallflower ‘Bowles Mauve’ is named for E. A. Bowles, just one of over 30 plant varieties that bear his name. I love that this idiosyncratic self-taught horticulturalist lives on, with some named for him long after his death, such as the Phlomis ‘Edward Bowles’ pictured below, which apparently originated from seed found at Myddelton House Gardens. There are many ways of being remembered, but being immortalised as a plant must be one of the nicest.