Ruth Scurr

Snobbery in the garden: U and non-U borders

When Richard Sudell began promoting pyracantha, hanging baskets and crazy paving in the 1920s, the backlash from the gardening elite was vicious and immediate

The yellow-and-orange-striped rose Rainbow Niagara – the sort of hybrid tea anathema to the gardening elite. [Getty Images] 
issue 20 July 2024

Richard Sudell is the forgotten hero of the gardening revolution in Britain between the first and second world wars. A Quaker, born in Lancashire in 1892, the son of a straw and hay dealer, he left school at 14 and became a gardener, worked at Kew, then went to prison as a conscientious objector in 1916. On furlough from his first prison sentence, he worked with the Vacant Land Cultivation Society to help create allotments for London’s poor. When the first world war ended, he moved to Roehampton with his first wife. There he began writing a monthly gardening column in the Roehampton Estate Gazette advising his neighbours, most of whom had never had a garden before, on how to ‘beautify’ the debris-strewn patches of mud outside their new front and back doors. His columns were drawn together in his first book, The Town Gardening Handbook (1924), aimed at promoting horticulture throughout London County Council’s innovative housing estates.

‘Vegetable rats!’, Humphrey Brooke screamed at some neatly pruned yellow roses in a suburban front garden

A Sudell-inspired garden was structured, full of bright colour and labour-saving.

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