Germantown old and new

In Short

This book serves as a horticultural inventory of Germantown, Pennsylvania, as it appeared at the turn of the twentieth century. Written by a local enthusiast for a local horticultural society, it functions as both a guide to the area’s notable specimens and a plea for their preservation. By linking specific trees and gardens to the families who cultivated them and the history they witnessed, the work captures a vanishing landscape. It remains a valuable record for those interested in arboriculture, local history, or the intersection of nature and community development.

The Story

The narrative begins with a modest premise: to document the "rare and notable plants" of Germantown as a brief address to a local horticultural society. However, the scope quickly expands into a sprawling, loving tour of the village’s main thoroughfare and its hidden corners. The author leads the reader on a virtual walk, starting from the historic Main Street—which he compares to the "stream-like windings" of Oxford—and moving through the lanes, estates, and public gardens that defined the town’s identity.

He establishes the context by citing early settlers like Francis Daniel Pastorius, who described the town in 1684 as a place of "pure and serene" air and fertile soil. Throughout the journey, the author contrasts these early, industrious beginnings with the changing landscape of 1904. He notes the observations of visiting travelers, both the sympathetic and the critical, providing a layered view of the village’s evolution. As he moves from estate to estate—naming places like "Wakefield," "Stenton," and "Wyck"—he details the specific trees found on each, from towering tulip poplars to rare cedars of Lebanon and weeping willows.

The arc of the book is a tension between the permanence of nature and the transience of human development. The author catalogs trees that have been destroyed by storms, forgotten by neglect, or leveled to make way for the encroaching "capital and change." He mourns the loss of landmarks like the famous Pomona yew, which he considers a "verdurous temple" destroyed by "vandal hands." Yet, even as he documents these losses, he celebrates the endurance of gardens that persist despite the encroaching city.

The journey concludes with a reflection on the custom of planting memorial trees. He highlights the legacy of figures like Thomas Meehan, whose influence on the local landscape was profound. The final message is a call to action: he urges his readers not to covet the "false accumulations" of urban sprawl but to find common pleasure in the natural world. He asserts that while human structures and individual estates will eventually fade, nature, if respected, will continue its work. He ends by affirming that those who inhabit Germantown today are the stewards of a botanical treasure, and their duty is to preserve it for the future, ensuring that the legacy of these living monuments survives.

How It Unfolds

The survey begins The author sets the scene by inviting the reader to walk Germantown’s Main Street, a thoroughfare he finds reminiscent of the historic lanes of England. He establishes the historical backdrop of the town’s settlement, grounding the reader in the vision of the original 1683 survey.

The botanical inventory The middle section functions as a structured guided tour, as the author moves through neighborhoods and private estates. He meticulously records the species, dimensions, and condition of trees, often noting the personal anecdotes or historical associations tied to specific specimens.

The loss of landmarks The tone shifts to one of elegy as the author documents the destruction of famous trees by severe weather and urban expansion. He laments the removal of historic garden features, urging his neighbors to value the remaining natural history before it is lost.

A final exhortation The book concludes with a broader perspective on the importance of arboriculture as a public good rather than a private luxury. The author offers a final meditation on the role of trees as living memorials, closing with a plea for stewardship and a hopeful outlook on the persistence of the natural world.

The People

The book is populated by a cast of residents, gardeners, and historical figures who shape the landscape. Francis Daniel Pastorius emerges as the foundational spirit, whose early reports of the village’s fertile soil set the standard for the gardening tradition that follows. George Redles, described as a "remarkable botanist" of exceptional modesty, appears throughout the text as a trusted guide and authority, providing the author with expertise on the town's most obscure specimens.

Thomas Meehan serves as the moral and practical center of the community’s horticultural life; his death and the subsequent memorial plantings made in his honor serve as a catalyst for the author’s reflections on legacy and friendship. Elliston P. Morris represents the dedicated private owner, whose garden at the Deshler-Morris home serves as a model of how to maintain a connection to the past despite the pressures of the modern era. Finally, the author himself, Edwin C. Jellett, acts as the patient, observant narrator, reconciling his deep affection for the town's botanical beauty with the inevitable, and often frustrating, march of progress. Through these figures, the author illustrates that the history of Germantown is written not just in stone, but in the growth and shade of its trees.

In Its Own Voice

"Alway while walking along our Main street I am reminded of the popular, well-known thoroughfare of Oxford, England, which it strangely suggests."

The author uses this comparison to establish the historic, aesthetic atmosphere of the town he is describing.

"Alas, that vandal hands should tear away / The ancient landmarks dear to other days, / And spoil the verdurous temples in a day, / Which nature took so many years to raise!"

Following the loss of a famous yew tree, the author includes this verse to lament the thoughtless destruction of the town’s natural heritage.

What It's Really About

At its core, the book is an argument for the intrinsic value of nature within a community. It poses the question of whether a town can maintain its character and soul in the face of rapid urbanization and the loss of its historical roots. The author argues that trees are not merely decorative, but are living, tangible links to the past that foster a sense of shared belonging. The work is a critique of the "selfishness of the few" who prioritize immediate development over the long-term preservation of the environment. Ultimately, it suggests that the true wealth of a community is found in its trees and gardens, which offer a sanctuary that "no abuse is able to restrict nor monopoly to control."

Why Read It Today

Readers who enjoy local history, landscape architecture, or the quiet pleasure of a well-kept garden will find this volume deeply engaging. It captures the spirit of a specific time and place with a warmth that makes the reader feel like a companion on the author’s daily walks. The book feels like a conversation with a knowledgeable neighbor who is deeply invested in the beauty surrounding him.

The text is not without its challenges; the author’s prose, while precise, is very much of its era, and the dense lists of species and property owners can be daunting for a reader looking for a traditional narrative. Some of the references to long-gone families and specific street corners may be obscure for those unfamiliar with Philadelphia, and the author’s period-typical attitudes occasionally appear in his commentary on "unrefined" travelers or his slightly antiquated views on historical progress. However, these difficulties are part of the book’s charm, offering a window into the mind of a Victorian-era naturalist. What stays with the reader is the author's profound reverence for the living world and his gentle, unwavering belief that protecting the beauty around us is a duty we owe to those who will walk the same streets in the future.