By Anna Clutterbuck-Cook, Reference Librarian
Since the Massachusetts Historical Society closed its building at 1154 Boylston to staff and the public on 11 March, I have been working from home on a street in Roslindale that runs alongside the Arnold Arboretum. In these days of social distancing and Governor Baker’s stay at home orders, my wife and I have been grateful for our daily morning walks along the Arboretum’s wide, sweeping boulevards. Established in 1872, the Arnold Arboretum of Harvard University is a living research collection and also one jewel in the chain known as the Emerald Necklace — a series of green spaces designed by Frederick Law Olmstead in the late 19th century and maintained by the City of Boston for the benefit of residents and visitors alike.
In looking to see what the Massachusetts Historical Society’s collections might hold about the Arnold Arboretum, I found the Report upon the condition and progress of the Botanic Garden and Arboretum during the year ending August 31, 1878… prepared by Charles Sprague Sargent (1841 -1927), the first director of the arboretum, which offers a glimpse into the first decade of the arboretum’s operations. The academic year of 1877-1878 had been a busy one for the Botanic Garden and Arboretum. Among many accomplishments, Sargent noted that “the work of re-arranging the hardy plants in the Garden has been continued,” “the old rockery of the Garden has been entirely rebuilt and replanted,” and “the artificial bog has been enlarged, and entirely remodelled and replanted … with satisfactory results.” Along with the industry of its gardeners, the Arboretum also saw an increase in visitors:
The number of visitors to the Garden is rapidly increasing, and probably twice as many persons have entered its gates during the past year as during any previous twelve months since its establishment.
This enthusiastic reception by general public, however, appeared to be in tension with what Sargent viewed as his primary purpose: to cultivate a premier collection of plants from around the world, each with a suitable habitat. “The difficulties of making a proper plan for laying out the Arboretum have always appeared very great to me,” he groused.
The site, while offering exceptional beauties, perhaps, for a public park, offers exceptional topographical difficulties for the object to which it is to be devoted; namely, a museum, in which as many living specimens as possible are to find their appropriate positions. In such a museum, every thing should be subservient to the collections, and the ease with which these can be reached and studied; and none of those considerations of mere landscape effect, should be allowed to interfere with these essential requirements of a scientific garden, however desirable such effects undoubtedly are.
To aid him in his efforts to meet these dual needs of scientific study and public pleasure, Sargent recommended — likely with prior approval — the engagement of Frederick Law Olmstead for the sum of two thousand dollars to design. “The foremost of landscape architects,” Sargent noted in his report, shortly before raising the question of funds, “he brings to this undertaking the largest experience and the wisest judgement; and I shall be satisfied that the plan he finally offers will be the very best attainable under the circumstances.” Is it just me, or does the very best attainable under the circumstances come with an audible sniff at having to compromise scientific objectives for “mere landscape effect”?
Whether or not Olmstead’s design was a compromise that satisfied Sprague is research for another day. However, it was a compromise that has continued to serve the residents of — and visitors to — Boston across more than a century as we step out for our daily constitutionals and are lucky enough to be surrounded by the trees that Sprague and his staff planted.
Stay safe, and enjoy a walk.
Sprague’s report can be read in full online via the Google Books project.