Ellen Ann Willmott FLS VMH
19th August, 1858
The British Empire has a lot to answer for, let’s be honest, and most of it is absolutely shocking. In many ways, it still has an awful lot of things to answer for, but one thing that cannot be denied is that the British Empire has left a legacy. Good or bad, it has left a mark. And there are good things about the British Empire; sometimes we can spend so long apologising for the horrors of the past that anything good that ever came out of it is just swept aside. Of course, a lot of the attempts at pointing out the good parts of the legacy often just end up as attempts to justify the terrible things that also happened. Whataboutism, or tu quoque if you learn how to argue via Reddit, is stupendously silly and works on the daft principle that yes, we might have murdered half your nation, but at least you got some trains out of it. As if the people of those countries would never have had the opportunities they did unless some pith-helmet wearing, opium laced Victorian buffoons swaggered by and had everyone shot. Or as if the price of progress these nations must pay is a jolly good whipping by ‘us’.
But there are some nice things that came out of that period and one of them is a glorious and rapid expansion in science, especially the exploration of the natural world. Horticulturalism boomed in the Victorian period and at the pointy end of that boom was Ellen Willmott.
Ellen Ann Willmott (1858-1934) was born on August 19, 1858, in Heston, Middlesex, England. Ellen was the eldest of three daughters in a wealthy and cultured family. From a young age, she developed a deep love for plants and gardening, nurtured by her family's own passion for horticulture. Her father, Frederick Willmott, instilled in her a meticulous appreciation for botany, and their home, Warley Place in Essex, provided Ellen with ample opportunities to immerse herself in gardening.
In 1875, at the age of 17, the Willmott family purchased Warley Place, a 33-acre estate that would become Ellen’s lifelong passion and one of the most famous gardens in Europe. Ellen transformed the garden into a botanical paradise, cultivating a vast array of plants, including rare and exotic species. Her wealth and connections allowed her to acquire the most sought-after plants and gardening expertise.
Warley Place became renowned for its diverse plant collections, especially its alpine plants and rock gardens. At its peak, Ellen employed over 100 gardeners to ensure every detail was perfect, firing those who made mistakes on the spot. The estate boasted over 100,000 species of plants, some collected from plant-hunting expeditions she financed, including those by the celebrated plant hunter Ernest Henry Wilson. Her collaborations with Wilson and other notable botanists enabled her to introduce numerous new species into British gardens.
Ellen Willmott’s influence extended far beyond her estate. A prominent figure in the Royal Horticultural Society (RHS), she was one of only two women (the other being Gertrude Jekyll) awarded the Victoria Medal of Honour in 1897, the year it was established. This prestigious award recognized her significant contributions to horticulture, particularly her work in breeding new plant varieties. Ellen was especially noted for her love of rose species, many of which she bred or popularized and are still grown today.
One of her most famous legacies is the cultivation and introduction of Eryngium giganteum, commonly known as "Miss Willmott's Ghost." The plant earned its name because Ellen was said to secretly scatter its seeds in the gardens she visited, leading it to sprout unexpectedly in other people’s borders. This ghostly silver thistle has become a well-known symbol of her gardening style.
Ellen was also a prolific writer and lecturer. Her most significant work, The Genus Rosa, published in three volumes between 1910 and 1914, remains an authoritative text on roses and is celebrated for its detailed botanical illustrations. She also contributed to numerous horticultural journals and publications, offering her expertise and opinions on everything from garden design to the ethical treatment of plants.
Despite her brilliance and contributions to horticulture, Ellen Willmott was a complex and controversial figure. Known for being fiercely independent, eccentric, and at times difficult, her perfectionism and high standards earned her both admiration and animosity. While she generously supported plant-hunting expeditions and other horticultural endeavors, she could also be secretive and territorial about her plants and methods.
Her personal life was marked by an intense devotion to her gardens, often at the expense of social relationships. Ellen never married, and after her parents and sisters passed away, she lived alone at Warley Place. Though she maintained connections with other gardeners and botanists, her uncompromising nature often led to strained relationships. Known for her sharp wit and biting remarks, she could intimidate even seasoned gardeners.
Ellen’s reputation as a demanding employer was legendary. She cultivated an air of exclusivity around her gardening practices, refusing to divulge certain techniques or share her prized plants with those she deemed unworthy.
Ellen Willmott’s life took a tragic turn in her later years. Her grand ambitions and extravagant lifestyle, coupled with the costs of maintaining Warley Place, led to severe financial difficulties. By the 1920s, she was deeply in debt, and the once-glorious gardens of Warley Place began to decline. She became increasingly eccentric and paranoid: she booby-trapped her estate to deter thieves, and carried a revolver in her handbag. In 1928, Willmott was arrested on suspicion of shoplifting although later acquitted. The estate was slowly sold off in parcels to pay creditors, and the staff dwindled to just a handful of gardeners.
Even as her financial situation worsened, Ellen refused to compromise on her vision or sell any of her precious plants. She became increasingly isolated and eccentric, clinging to the remnants of her garden’s former glory. Warley Place fell into disrepair, and by the time of her death in 1934, the gardens that had once been among the most celebrated in Europe were a shadow of their former glory.
Despite the decline of Warley Place, Ellen Ann Willmott’s legacy endures. Her contributions to horticulture, particularly in the breeding and cultivation of new plant species, have had a lasting impact. Her influence can still be seen in gardens around the world, particularly through the plants she helped introduce and popularize. Eryngium giganteum, with its ghostly silver bracts, remains a fitting symbol of her presence, subtly haunting gardens even after all these years.
Warley Place itself was sold and demolished in 1939, although the garden has become a nature reserve, preserving a hint of its former beauty. Visitors today can see traces of the grandeur that once characterized Ellen’s garden, with some of her original plantings still surviving among the wild growth. Her work continues to inspire gardeners and horticulturists, particularly women in the field, for whom Ellen was a pioneering figure in a male-dominated world.
In addition to her practical contributions, Ellen Willmott’s life serves as a cautionary tale about the costs of perfectionism and single-minded dedication. Her refusal to compromise, while leading to remarkable achievements, ultimately contributed to her financial ruin and personal isolation. Yet, for all her flaws and eccentricities, she remains a towering figure in the history of horticulture—one whose influence is felt worldwide.
Wow, I never knew her story, despite having grown several plants suffixed willmottiana. But, living as I do across the pond where the push is on to grow only native plants, I won't be searching for any more of her beauties..