It is extremely fortunate that the Editor made no limitations, beyond that of space, when giving me the invitation to contribute a historical account of the Art of Topiary, as a sort of preface to the practical advice given in later chapters by Mr Gibson, who has charge of the wonderful collection of clipped trees at Levens Hall. This is fortunate, because it would have been difficult either to wholly praise or wholly blame an art that for at least a century and a half provided English gardens with their outstanding feature. It were easy for us to dismiss the whole subject of Topiary by affecting a great superiority and referring to it only as a monument of perverted taste, but that would neither provide interest nor give instruction, and it is hoped that both these ends may be served so far as the space at disposal will permit.

As it is an undoubted fact that for about one hundred and fifty years Topiary was both fashionable and popular, it follows that, whatever our taste may be, a consideration of the subject cannot be lacking in interest. Never did a horticultural fashion retain its hold upon a gardening public so long as Topiary, but as fashions rarely come spontaneously but are rather arrived at by a kind of evolutionary process, so the art of Verdant Sculpture must have had its Early History, followed by a development of design limited only by the ingenuity of the gardener. Then came what one may call the Golden Age of Topiary, when every garden having any pretensions whatever to importance was more or less notable according to the degree of formality found in its design and furnishing. The inevitable reaction followed next, and had its beginning in a Crusade which found able supporters in those two brilliant essayists and satirists, Addison and Pope. The old order changed, and considering its age, it changed with a rapidity for which there seems to be no parallel in horticulture. No doubt many trees were permitted to grow naturally after years of close cropping and carving, but doubtless also many thousands were uprooted and destroyed by the landscape gardeners who were practising—notably Bridgeman and Kent—when the decline of Topiary set in. And not only were clipped trees destroyed, but many a splendid close trimmed hedge of box and yew was swept away, leaving the garden unsheltered and unsecluded. Extremes met, as was but natural, when once the tide of fashion turned, and it has been left for the present times to properly adjust the balance between extreme formality on the one hand and too close a copy of nature on the other.

We can appreciate the shelter and beauty of a well trimmed hedge in the garden, and, in its proper place, we find no fault with a straight terrace walk. Still further, we are collecting old sundials or fashioning new ones on old models, and in some of the best gardens of the day the garden seats have a comfortable old-time appearance.

The principle of associating like with like is gaining ground, and in numerous fine establishments the interest of the place is wonderfully increased and extended by gardens devoted to certain subjects. We have Rose Gardens, Rhododendron Gardens, Bamboo Gardens, Michaelmas Daisy Gardens, etc., and lastly, we have Topiary Gardens. These latter do not now as heretofore overpower everything else; they are simply part of a whole scheme for providing a continuation of pleasure, beauty and interest; they serve as a reminder of a quaint stage in the progress of horticulture, and show what a wonderful vitality is possessed by yew, box, and some few other evergreen shrubs.

This little book, then, is not placed before the public with any fervent hope that it will incite garden lovers to at once sally forth with shears and scissors to attack the nearest yew tree; nor is it issued with a desire that garden makers may be induced to plant clipped trees extensively. Further, the “Book of Topiary” can hardly be said to “supply a long felt want” in the general sense in which that very hackneyed phrase is used. Why comes it, then? What are its claims to popular consideration? It comes to provide an hour’s reading upon one of the most distinct and interesting branches of horticulture that the art has ever produced. Its claims to consideration are, chiefly, that in it are gathered together the main incidents that go to make up the history of Topiary, and it presents to readers the cultural experience of one whose opportunities for gaining such experience are unequalled.

Topiarian history is somewhat difficult to piece together, and, so far as the writer is aware, no attempt has hitherto been made to place such a history before the gardening public. It is, therefore, modestly suggested that this work is somewhat unique among books dealing with horticultural subjects, and it is hoped it may be found to deserve a position in every garden library.