Finding myself with nothing handy to read at the pool, I picked up my extremely marked-up copy of Henry Mitchell’s The Essential Earthman – an Expanded Edition of a Gardening Classic, a 1981 collection of his Washington Post columns. In case you’re too young or far away to know the name, Mitchell was the paper’s beloved garden writer from 1976, when he replaced Jack Eden (best known and reviled for his great love of chemicals in the garden), until he retired in 1991. Mitchell’s 1993 obituary described his column as “infused with common sense, good humor, modesty and a certain durable skepticism,” and no wonder it was a hit from the start. I learned a lot about Mitchell from that beautiful obituary, and my favorite line is: “He died, with dirt on his hands, helping a neighbor plant daffodils.”
Soooo, how do we think his writing stands the test of time, these 40+ years later, with what we know now? Remember, 40 years ago gardeners knew next to nothing about the ecological pros and cons of our gardening choices and practices. But after years of being urged by his predecessor to launch chemical warfare on our gardens, we were thrilled to discover that Mitchell gardened with a lighter touch and unexpectedly, was fun to read!
I found his thoughts about lawns in The Essential Earthman to stand up pretty well in these anti-lawn times, though thanks more to common sense and disdain for conformity than an overtly environmental purpose. But what do YOU think?
I’ve illustrated Mitchell’s text with photos of the kinds of gardens he mentions – small city lots in Washington D.C.
Mitchell on Lawns
“There is something to be said for lawns, but it does strike me as obvious that lawns are work and that several million blades of grass all together can be monotonous.”
He mocks the notion that “all the best people have lawns. I can remember quite well when all the best people had cows – Mrs. Taft, as you know, had her cow brought up every day from Foggy Bottom to graze on the White House grass – and before that all the best people had deer parks. All I am saying is that you don’t have to grow grass if you don’t want to, and in many cases, especially on small lots, it makes more sense to eschew it.” (We can thank the Library of Congress for photographic proof that the Taft cow grazed on the White House lawn.)
“I hate to see anybody badgered and shamed by unholy pressures into growing grass simply because everybody else does.”
Lawn Alternatives for City Lots
While Mitchell concedes that on large properties lawns are “pretty inevitable, it is also true that in tiny 40- and 50-foot lots, to say nothing of those minuscule little warrens of Georgetown and Capitol Hill, a lawn can be rather silly, in terms of labor versus final effect.”
He opined that on tiny lots “it often makes more sense to treat the outdoor space as simply an extension of the house, and to pave some of it or most of it, and to wind up with what is really no more than an outdoor room furnished with plants instead of tables and chests.”
For shady spots he suggests: “Why not azaleas and camellias, with a little clearing (covered with duff of the forest floor) sprinkled about with Virginia bluebells, lilies of the valley, Solomon’s seal, veratrums (if it were damp) and grand little bulbous things like anemones, crocuses, and the like? The number of shrubs that enjoy light woodland conditions is vast and, while nothing is labor-proof, still it is much more satisfying to care for camellias, viburnums and so on, grown to perfection, than to work like the devil for a scraggly patch of lawn.”
In full sun, “What could be more delightful than a large lily pool with a terrace on which to spend much time observing the fishes, toads, water lilies, and other treasures of such installations? Back of that could be roses or vegetables or what you preferred, and there would be no need for a lawn. I am speaking, still, of tiny plots.”
“Obviously if you want the effect of a million blades of grass shorn uniformly, only shorn grass will produce that effect. But I suspect many gardeners would do well to think of something besides grass and the little noisy juggernauts that you cut it with.”
Mitchell on English Ivy – Aargh!
Remember, we knew nothing about the harms caused by English ivy, especially when it’s allowed to grow up into trees, set fruit, and be spread widely by birds.
Our dear Henry calls English ivy (Hedera helix) “the most beautiful and practical of all evergreens grown in Washington,” and he “suggests a wider use for it…In my view the ivy is never so beautiful as when it is old or has reached the top of the tree or wall or other support; and has begun to grow heavy woody branches and to flower and to fruit.”
Oh, there’s more. “In Washington, ivy grows on walls facing any direction….It is very nice on brick or stone…Ivy should not be allowed to grow on young trees since it will smother them; it is ruinous on dogwoods for instance, but on old trees it does no harm and is beautiful.”
But I’m telling you, on most topics Mitchell’s advice holds up surprisingly well! I’ll be sharing his thoughts on designing for low maintenance in another post.
Henry Mitchell is, by far, my most favorite and cherished garden writer. Whoever is second place is so far distant that you need a map and binoculars to find them. And, he is quite re-readable. Thanks for bringing him to our attention.
I pulled this book out last winter when looking for something to read and was amazed how much I still enjoyed it. When I first read it, I had a traditional garden. Fast forward 30 years and I own a small local-ecotype native nursery and so much of it still applies. Except that English ivy bit!
I’d argue John Moore and say Elizabeth Lawerence was my favorite American garden writer, but Henry Mitchell is near the top of my heap. I forgive Mitchell for his fondness for English Ivy. I once adored ivy when I first started gardening. It represented a challenge. The Ohio River froze over hard in those arctic back to back winters of ’78 and ’79 and it took out English Ivy—most of it. Nothing but a menace now. I can’t get rid of it in Louisville. I’ve fought it hammer and tong, pulling up pieces for 28 years. He mentions the native Veratrum (“if it were damp”) along with Solomon’s seals and Virginia bluebells. I’ve seen different Veratrum species in the wild in north Georgia and Colorado, but I’ve never seen it in gardens. Worthy of bragging rights if this were true. I love Mrs. Taft’s cow.
I fought the English Ivy and won. And I planted it. But it’s a little colder here in East central Ohio. It was a day in the upper 90’s, more uncommon back then, I have never been so sweaty, stinky and dirty in my life. I remember pulling out a root as big around as my forearm, and holding over my head and honking like the Sand People in the first Star Wars movie. Fortunately no one was there to see or hear this.
And what did I replace it with? Creeping Myrtle! Argh! It is contained.
I love that cow too – we should have one in the garden of Number 10.
But I don’t really get why ivy is so bad in the USA? Here (like ground elder!) it seems to live happily in amongst everything else and in many places has been totally swamped. Charles does have a thing about it and pulls it out of the hedges where it creeps on to his paths. What does it do to you? Did we send it over the fight the War of Independence?
Fun post. I got hooked on Henry Mitchell years ago and always enjoy re-reading his books.
Every once in a while, when I’m between books and need a good read, I reread THE ESSENTIAL EARTHMAN. And I’m old enough to remember his fine garden column in the WaPo. He was so down to earth and amusing, too. Thanks for bringing him to the forefront.
Part of one of my favorite passages in The Essential Earthman: “In the garden there is always life, right through the year, and gardeners are merely those people who, while admiring the sex of plants as much as or more than anybody else, go on even beyond, and admire as well the bones and skin and guts and all the rest of it, and who admire more than anything the totality of it in all seasons. Compared to gardeners, I think it is generally agreed that others understand very little about anything of consequence.”
Henry Mitchell is always worth re-reading!
One of many fond memories of living in Charlottesville VA is hearing Henry Mitchell speak at Monticello one lovely summer evening, after having been a faithful reader of his Washington Post column. Sadly, he passed away not long after that talk. The Essential Earthman lives on, and I treasure my copy.
Henry Mitchell is my hero and the reason I am a gardener. Gone too soon, as was his delightful illustrator, Susan Davis. Thanks for introducing him to another generation.
Henry Mitchell has always been a hero. He was kind and his writing was so genuine. He gave me help as a fledgling writer and once allowed me to photograph his amazing moonflower vine—a vine whose evening antics he relished. When I lived in MD and he was still writing I read his column religiously for the insight, humor, and inspiration they offered. I’m glad you’ve brought attention to his collected writings.
His column was a bit before my gardening time – but I so enjoy reading the collected works. I especially relate to his love of water gardening and wish more small-space gardeners considered it. Water features make a garden magical.
I discovered Mitchell shortly before he died and have that exact edition of The Essential Earthman as well as hardbacks of One Man’s Garden and the posthumous On Gardening. All are “essential” works, but I would be hard-pressed to choose a favorite author; Henry Mitchell, Sydney Eddison, Sara Stein, Michael Pollan, Tom Christopher, Mirabel Osler, Page Dickey, Allen Lacy, how does one choose?
I love Henry Mitchell too. And have you read Green Thoughts by the late Eleanor Perenyi? It was very enjoyable. As was her haunting memoir of her WW2 era marriage to a Hungarian nobleman, titled More Was Lost.
We bought our first house in Laurel, MD in and I read Henry Mitchell’s columns every week. I felt Henry Michell was ‘training’ the gardeners as much as giving garden advice. We moved to the Chicago area in 1996 and I missed his columns a lot. I’ve owned 2 of his books, but loaned them so many times that I am down to just one. I reread it regularly.