The book of topiary

In Short

This manual serves as both a historical defense and a practical guide to the ancient craft of topiary. It traces the practice from its Roman origins and the elaborate excesses of the seventeenth century, through its near-extinction by landscape reformers, to its early-twentieth-century revival. The work provides detailed instructions on selecting, planting, and training yew and box trees into shapes ranging from simple geometric pillars to complex figures like peacocks and ships. It remains an essential reference for those who find beauty in the intersection of horticulture and architecture.

The Story

The narrative begins by establishing topiary as a sophisticated, if controversial, horticultural art form. It defines the practice as the shaping of trees and hedges into ornamental figures, a craft often ignored by encyclopedias but historically significant in the development of garden design. The trajectory starts with the Romans and shifts to the revival of gardening under Charlemagne, noting that by the twelfth century, the art was already established, albeit confined within the defensive walls of feudal estates.

As the account progresses, it details the rise of the Dutch influence, where mathematical precision and the desire to maximize small plots of land led to a rigid, formal style. This culminated in the seventeenth-century extravagance under Charles II and the French influence of Le Nôtre, whose work at Versailles became the ultimate expression—and, in the eyes of later critics, the "deadly formalism"—of the style. The narrative then chronicles the inevitable backlash. Prominent figures like Bacon, Addison, and Pope launched a crusade against the practice, dismissing clipped trees as "toys" or "monstrous attempts" that offended the beauty of unadorned nature.

Despite these historical protests, the story moves into the modern era, documenting a distinct revival. The author highlights the efforts of nurserymen, particularly Mr. Herbert J. Cutbush, who traveled extensively through Holland to discover and secure the finest examples of topiary hidden in remote farmhouse gardens. This shift marks the transition from the philosophical debate to the practical application of the art.

The final arc of the work focuses on the reader who wishes to cultivate such a garden. It offers a comprehensive, step-by-step approach to creation: selecting a sunny, sheltered site; preparing the soil with trenching and organic matter; and choosing between buying pre-shaped specimens or the more rewarding path of training one’s own trees from youth. The text emphasizes that while topiary is a labor-intensive commitment, it offers a lasting legacy. It concludes by outlining the yearly management of these gardens, stressing that the beauty of a topiary display is enhanced by balancing the stiff, formal lines of the clipped trees with the soft, natural growth of old-fashioned flowers in the surrounding beds. By integrating these practices, the gardener creates a space that is both structurally bold and aesthetically harmonious, effectively bridging the gap between nature and human invention.

How It Unfolds

Defining the craft The text opens by situating topiary within the broader scope of gardening history, providing an etymological foundation and identifying the practice as the intentional shaping of plants into fanciful figures. It acknowledges the lack of formal academic records for the art, necessitating a reliance on historical texts and garden plans to trace its evolution.

Tracing the historical pendulum The narrative examines the rise of the style in the thirteenth century and its subsequent refinement under Dutch merchants and French royalty. It juxtaposes this period of peak extravagance with the intellectual "crusade" led by poets and philosophers who favored naturalistic landscapes over the formal control of trees.

The modern resurgence The focus shifts to the contemporary revival, highlighting the commercial efforts of nurserymen to preserve and propagate the art. This beat details the logistical challenges of importing mature specimens and the expertise required to maintain them.

The mechanics of creation The final section transitions to an instructional guide, covering everything from the importance of rich loam and proper drainage to the specific techniques of clipping. It provides the reader with a clear framework for establishing a long-lived, formal garden that respects the distinct growth habits of the yew.

The People

The figures in this history are divided between the practitioners who sustained the art and the critics who attempted to dismantle it.

Bacon, Addison, and Pope act as the primary voices of opposition. They view the sculpting of trees as a childish pursuit, arguing that it obscures the inherent beauty of nature. For them, the garden should be a place of freedom and simplicity, not a display of "monstrous" human artifice.

Le Nôtre stands as the ultimate practitioner of the formal style, representing an era of unlimited ambition and expenditure. His influence creates the high-water mark of topiary, though he eventually becomes a symbol of the "deadly formalism" that the next generation of gardeners sought to escape.

Mr. Herbert J. Cutbush represents the practical, modern revivalist. Unlike the philosophers, he is concerned with the survival of the craft. His relentless travel through the Dutch countryside—securing rare specimens from the gardens of blacksmiths and farmers—shows a deep, hands-on appreciation for the skill required to maintain these living sculptures. He bridges the gap between the professional nursery trade and the dedicated amateur, advocating for the patience required to train one's own trees rather than merely purchasing finished works.

In Its Own Voice

“The man who sneers at me for admiring, as I do, a well cut peacock, may take my assurance in advance that I will neither kick him nor abuse him; but pity him I must.”

This defiant opening statement sets the tone for the author's passionate defense of topiary against those who find it unnatural.

“Your gardener can frame your lesser wood to the shape of men armed in the field, ready to give battell: or swift-running Grey Hounds to chase the Deere, or hunt the Hare.”

The author quotes Lawson to illustrate how deeply the practice of turning gardens into theatrical, symbolic spaces was embedded in seventeenth-century culture.

What It's Really About

The central argument is that the garden is not merely a place for plants, but a canvas for human expression. The book explores the tension between "nature" and "art," questioning whether the gardener should act as a steward of growth or an architect of form. It implicitly argues that there is as much value in the disciplined, intellectual exercise of shaping a tree as there is in letting it grow wild. Ultimately, the work is a plea for patience and permanence; it posits that a well-tended topiary garden is an act of legacy, requiring a foresight that transcends the immediate trends of the day.

Why Read It Today

Readers who appreciate the history of design or have an interest in formal, English-style gardens will find this book a rewarding, if specific, read. The tone is refreshingly earnest, lacking the modern urge to turn every hobby into a high-octane lifestyle pursuit. It feels like a patient lecture from a seasoned professional who genuinely wants the reader to succeed in their own gardening endeavors.

The prose is accessible, though a modern reader should be prepared for the occasional seventeenth-century literary reference and the period-specific assumption that the reader has access to the time and land necessary for such extensive labor. Some may find the author's strong opinions on the "proper" way to clip a hedge a bit prescriptive, but this rigidity is part of the book’s period charm. What stays with you is the author's quiet devotion to the yew tree—a plant that, with enough time and attention, can become a permanent, living monument. It is a slow-paced, methodical book that invites you to slow down your own sense of time, reminding you that some of the most beautiful things in a garden are those that take decades to shape.