Making progress with PT. Did a session with OT getting out of bed into walker, and getting out of chair into walker. And no more commode! Got into wheelchair with PT while Maureen was here, and took a wheel around the ward. Getting better at getting into walker, but still need a helper. NP Sharon from the ortho team stopped by. We discussed the low blood cell counts – I’m chronically anemic which is not unusual, but she’s ordering tests and that’ll tell us if I need to go on an iron supplement. She also removed the Ace wrap off my left leg and got me a new boot for the right foot. I had an MRI of my right arm, Tomorrow is the day for surgery to put in the port, and I’ll be NPO until after the surgery.
I checked the portal and I see I’m scheduled for a hospital visit to 300 1st Ave., Charleston – i.e., Spaulding. Looked at the BCBS portal to confirm and I see Spaulding is approved August 1-7. Yay (I think) Hope I get a view of the harbor!
“Life in the Gardeners’ Bothy” is a social history of gardening in English landed estates from 1920s to the outbreak of World War Two. This period saw shifts in social structures, with the rise of the working class and the decline of the aristocracy. Arthur Hooper was a gardener on many of these estates, beginning his career at the age of 14 as an unpaid apprentice gardener’s boy, and ending his career in the coveted position of head gardener. Over the course of his career, he worked for many eminent personages:
Sir Cecil Chubb. Best known for donating Stonehenge to the nation, a property that he acquired as Lot 15 at an auction for a mere £6,600. He acquired it on a whim as a present for his wife. He wanted to prevent the stones from being acquired by someone overseas. Owner of Bemerton Lodge, a small country estate near Salisbury, Wiltshire.
Washington Merritt Grant Singer. American born heir to the Singer sewing machine fortune. Owner of Norman Court, a country estate in Hampshire of about 3,000 acres.
Sir Felix Schuster. Born in the Free City of Frankfurt, his family moved to England when he was 15. A wealthy banker and Liberal MP. Owner of Verdley Place, a 67-acre property in West Sussex.
Sir Jeremiah Coleman. Developed Colman’s Mustard into an international concern. Owner of Gatton Park, a country estate in Surrey of about 1,000 acres.
In the early days of his career, a garden would have employed 20 to 30 or more gardeners . Gatton Park, for example, employed 35 gardeners, of which six gardeners alone were required to grow and cross orchids, Sir Jermiah’s particular hobby. And to Hooper’s surprise, one of the gardeners was a woman! Gardeners would be allocated to work maintaining the pleasure grounds, the kitchen gardens, and multiple glasshouses. These latter were heated by one or more boilers; one of the gardener’s duties would be to keep the boilers running 24 hours a day, seven days a week, adjusting ventilators as needed to maintain the temperature and within carefully prescribed limits depending on what was being grown there. Hooper lists the following glasshouses at Norman Court:
Two peach houses
Four vineries
Four plant houses
A rose house
A house for tender vegetable seedlings
An underground forcing room for rhubarb, sea kale, endive, and chicory
Two cucumber houses
Three melon houses
Twp carnation houses
A fernery
A stove house for tropical plants
A chrysanthemum house
A tomato house
A camelia house
There was a strict hierarchy amongst gardeners. Boys were at the bottom followed by paid journeymen assigned various ranks: 1st journeyman at the top, followed 2nd , 3rd, and 4th, depending on the size of the garden. Above them would be foremen assigned to oversee the work of several men, followed by a general foreman or manager, and above him the almighty head gardener. He alone interacted with the Lord of the Manor and his Lady, to direct the workings of the gardens. Foremen and above would be expected to be married and live on tied houses on the estate. Journeymen, however, had to remain unmarried and were housed in basic accommodation, called the gardener’s bothy. A gardener’s rank dictated the dress code. A first journeymen was required to wear a collar and tie and wear a blue apron. He could only remove his jacket if the weather was hot, and always be ready to put it back on if the lady or squire came his way. Lesser journeymen wore green aprons.
This was an age when workers were expected to remain subservient to their masters and to acknowledge them by touching their caps if they passed by. Hooper’s spirit comes through however in an interchange with the Sir Simon Schuster’s daughter when he found it necessary to assert some dignity.
I was working in the vinery when I heard Miss Schuster calling me. I came down some steps, walked to the door and out to where she was standing. “When I call you,” she said, “you will not keep me waiting, you will run to me as quickly as possible.” I stood quite still a little away from her. I think I did this because I was to some extent taken aback. Then I said, “Madam, nature doesn’t run, and we who work with nature must keep in step with our natural master.”
Hooper goes into great detail describing the bothys that he lived in. Some were better than others, but shared the same basic setup of a living room with table and chairs, a dresser for crockery and utensils, and large cast iron stove, used for cooking and heating water. A local woman, referred to as the bothy “Mom” was employed by the Head Gardener to do the cooking, mending, and laundry during the week. Bothy boys were also given an allowance of coal and lamp oil, but had to pay for food out of their own wages. Depending on the garden, however, they could sometimes supplement it with produce from the garden. Life in the bothy was equally regimented, with a rotating roster of who would be “on the wheel” for cooking and maintaininng the glasshouse boilers at the weekend.
The Wall Street Crash of 1929 was felt in England as well. Hooper describe how men were abruptly laid off and wages cut. Completion for places at gardens became tight. Hooper’s gardening knowledge and references, however, served him well. His skill as a cricketer though was the deciding factor in his getting a position at Gatton Park; Sir Jeremiah was a keen cricketer!
Hooper eventually landed his coveted position of Head Gardener at Hookstile House in Surrey, a small estate of just 21 acres, employing just three staff. The position was cut short, however, by the outbreak of the Second World War, when the owner, Mr. Horner[1] and his wife closed the house and left to live on his other estate in Devon. Hooper was given notice and returned to work with his father, who at this time had been given charge of several gardens at a psychiatric hospital in Salisbury. As a producer of food, his position was classified as a reserved occupation so he would not be called up, and moreover could not change occupations.
Hooper wrote a second book “After the Gardeners’ Bothy” in 2004, at which time he would have been 96. His date of death remains unrecorded.
[1] Hooper gives the owner’s name as Horler, but property records give it as Horner, I suspect that some other names may be incorrect in the latter part of the book as I have been unable to independently confirm them.
The following description was AI generated by ChatGPT on August 2, 2026
The gardeners’ bothy was one of the defining institutions of British estate gardening from the late Victorian period until the mid-20th century. It was far more than a dormitory—it was a combination of apprenticeship, trade school, and social club that trained many of Britain’s finest gardeners.
A bothy was a simple building, usually located near the kitchen gardens of a large country estate, where the unmarried gardeners lived. The word originally meant a basic hut or shelter in Scotland, but by the late nineteenth century it referred specifically to accommodation for estate gardeners.
A typical estate might have:
A head gardener with his own house.
Several foremen or senior gardeners with cottages.
Four to twenty young gardeners living together in the bothy.
These men were generally between 15 and 30 years old and were expected to remain unmarried while living there.
Who lived there?
Most residents were:
Apprentice gardeners
Journeymen improving their skills
Young men moving from estate to estate to broaden their experience
Changing estates every few years was encouraged. A gardener who had worked under several distinguished head gardeners became much more employable.
Many eventually became:
Head gardeners
Estate managers
Public park superintendents
Royal garden staff
Daily routine
The day was long and highly structured.
A typical summer day around 1900 might look like:
Time
Activity
5:30–6:00 am
Rise
6:00 am
Begin work
Breakfast
Short break
Morning
Vegetable gardens, glasshouses, fruit walls
Noon
Dinner
Afternoon
Maintenance, propagation, mowing, pruning
5:30–6:00 pm
Finish work
Evening
Cleaning tools, study, recreation
Saturday was usually a shorter day.
Sunday generally meant church, washing clothes, and polishing boots.
Training
The bothy system was essentially an apprenticeship.
Young gardeners learned every branch of horticulture, including:
Soil preparation
Propagation
Grafting and budding
Fruit tree pruning
Vegetable production
Floristry
Glasshouse management
Orchid growing
Stove plants
Mushroom culture
Heating systems
Pest control
The training was intensely practical.
Head gardeners expected perfection.
One mistake—damaging a peach tree, breaking valuable glass, or allowing a prized chrysanthemum to fail—could earn a stern lecture.
Education
Evenings were often devoted to study.
Many head gardeners required:
Botany
Plant names (Latin)
Garden planning
Reading horticultural journals
Some bothies maintained libraries.
Gardeners prepared for examinations offered by organizations such as the Royal Horticultural Society.
Pay
Pay was modest because accommodation was included.
Approximate weekly wages:
Apprentice: 8–15 shillings
Young gardener: 15–25 shillings
Skilled gardener: 25–35 shillings
The head gardener earned considerably more and usually enjoyed a rent-free house, coal, and a productive garden.
Money wasn’t the chief attraction.
The training itself was considered the investment.
Life inside the bothy
Evenings were surprisingly lively.
Residents often:
Cooked simple meals
Played cards
Sang
Debated politics
Read newspapers
Practiced music
Studied horticulture
Each bothy developed its own traditions.
Many had nicknames, initiation rituals for newcomers, and practical jokes.
There was also a strong sense of discipline:
Rooms inspected
Boots cleaned
Tools immaculate
Punctuality expected
Some bothies gained reputations for scholarship; others for mischief.
The famous “Bothy Nights”
The social life became legendary.
Arthur Hooper’s memoir Life in the Gardeners’ Bothy describes evenings filled with storytelling, arguments, songs, and practical jokes after long days in the gardens. His account captures both the camaraderie and the strict hierarchy that shaped young gardeners’ lives.
Why did the system work so well?
Large estates offered extraordinary variety.
One gardener might learn:
Pineapple cultivation
Peach houses
Orchid houses
Vine houses
Melons
Formal bedding
Rose gardens
Rock gardens
Woodland management
Few modern horticultural programs can match that breadth of hands-on experience.
Why did it disappear?
Several forces combined after the First World War:
Decline of the great estates. Higher taxation, agricultural depression, and changing economics made large domestic staffs increasingly unaffordable.
World wars. Many gardeners served in the armed forces, and labor shortages disrupted the apprenticeship pipeline.
Mechanization. Lawn mowers, tractors, and new equipment reduced the need for large gardening teams.
Changing employment expectations. Younger workers increasingly preferred independent housing and family life rather than communal lodging.
Breakup of estates. Many country houses were demolished or converted to schools, hospitals, hotels, or institutions, eliminating bothies along with extensive kitchen gardens.
By the 1950s, only a handful of traditional bothies remained in regular use.
Legacy
Although the bothy system largely vanished, its influence endured. Many of the twentieth century’s leading British gardeners—including head gardeners at major estates and botanic gardens—received their formative training in bothies. The system produced generations of horticulturists with exceptional practical knowledge, discipline, and pride in craftsmanship.
Today, some restored bothies can still be seen at historic estates managed by organizations such as the National Trust and National Trust for Scotland. While they now serve as museum spaces or visitor exhibits rather than working dormitories, they offer a glimpse into a distinctive way of life that helped shape British horticulture for nearly a century.
Primary accounts by gardeners
Hooper, Arthur. Life in the Gardeners’ Bothy.
Probably the best firsthand memoir of life in an English gardeners’ bothy in the early twentieth century. It covers daily routines, discipline, humor, relationships among the gardeners, and training.
(Unfortunately long out of print, but often available through used booksellers and libraries.)
Wood, Harry Dodds. The Englishman’s Garden.
Contains valuable descriptions of estate gardening and the organization of large gardening staffs.
Robinson, William. The English Flower Garden. (multiple editions)
While not specifically about bothies, it describes the professional horticultural world in which bothy-trained gardeners worked.
An outstanding archive of historical gardening books, journals, photographs, and documents, including period publications written by and for professional gardeners.
Explains the role of the RHS in horticultural education, examinations, and professional development from the nineteenth century onward.
Mavis Batey. The English Garden: Views and Visits.
Provides historical context for country-house gardens and the people who maintained them.
Brent Elliott (ed.). The Garden: A History in Landscape and Art.
Excellent overview of the evolution of British gardens and estate management.
Contemporary horticultural journals
Many descriptions of bothy life appeared in:
The Gardeners’ Chronicle
The Journal of the Royal Horticultural Society
The Garden
For example, The Gardeners’ Chronicle (1906) defined a bothy as “the apartments in a garden allotted for the residence of under gardeners,” illustrating how commonplace the institution was at the time.
An example of a preserved gardeners’ bothy, with architectural and historical notes.
Academic and museum resources
The libraries of the Royal Horticultural Society hold apprenticeship records, examination materials, and professional journals documenting the training of estate gardeners.
The Garden Museum in London has collections and exhibitions on the history of British horticulture and professional gardeners.
Particularly recommended
If you’re interested in the bothy system itself rather than estate gardening in general, I would recommend reading these in order:
Arthur Hooper – Life in the Gardeners’ Bothy (firsthand memoir)
The Gardeners’ Chronicle (especially issues from 1880–1920)
Royal Horticultural Society Digital Collections (primary historical sources)
Mavis Batey – The English Garden: Views and Visits
Brent Elliott – The Garden: A History in Landscape and Art
Together, these sources provide both the lived experience of bothy residents and the broader historical context of professional gardening in Britain from the late nineteenth century until the decline of the country-house estate after the Second World War.
“Being Mortal” is a book I needed to read. It’s beautifully and poignantly written by Atul Gawande, a surgeon at Brigham and Women’s Hospital in Boston, where I spent several months in 2005/6 being treated for and cured of Burkitt Lymphoma. I first became aware of Gawande from the articles he’d written for the New Yorker magazine, but this is the first book of his that I’ve read. He writes with great compassion about the end of life of several of his patients, including that of his own father. He revisits the ancient Ars Moriendi updating it for the modern secular age. Gawande observes that advances in medicine and social organization have not kept pace with the art of dying. He points out that we accept death once it’s over, but it’s the period leading up to death that we find it difficult to deal with. Gawande has long been a proponent of including the patient in medical care and decision making, and here he extends that responsibility to the family. He recognizes that, all too often, doctors can give the impression that their superior knowledge and experience make them solely responsible for making decisions about treatment. This assumes that the doctor’s only job is to prolong life, but although that may be the doctor’s most important job, it is not the only one. Patients also need to retain agency over their lives, and to be able to take care of things important to them. All too often the family is caught between the two: should they listen to the doctor who has experience of treating many patients, or to the patient who is the only one who can say what matters to them. The patient knows that they only have a diminishing amount of time left to them, and may prefer to spend those days in familiar surroundings, with minimal pain, doing things that they care about. The patient may not wish to face the prospect of being subject to painful testing, invasive procedures, and spending time in the ICU; a prospect that only postpones the ultimate. Even if patients escape this indignity, they may find themselves consigned to long-term care nursing homes. Often this is done for the benefit of a family that, for whatever reason, is unable to take on the responsibility of caring for the individual in their home. Here again there is a conflict between the interests of the caregiver and the patient. The caregiver may feel that they have to provide safe and consistent care, be it waking up the patient at set times for blood draws and taking vitals, dispensing regular doses of medication at set times during the day, and providing a controlled diet for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Such a program is unlikely to be what the patient wants. Patients, while recognizing that they can’t do just what they did when younger, may still want to do things the caregiver won’t allow. This might include things such as sneaking the odd cigarette and cocktail! Caregivers would be correct in deeming that they are not in the best interests of the patient, but is the caregiver the only one who can decide that? Cannot the patient be allowed to shoulder some of the risk if doing so makes them happy?
Most people who have attended high school in the US, or its equivalent in the UK, will have learned about Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs, having Self Actualization at its pinnacle. Gawande takes issue with this characterization of human needs as being applicable to everyone. It might be appropriate as a goal for high school students with their lives ahead of them, but for folks at the end of their lives they’ve probably done as much self-actualization as they need. They may be ready to look beyond the self and connect with something greater. As we age, we have more years behind us than ahead of us. We may feel the need to savor the past, atone for past transgressions, and share with others what they’ve learned along the way.
In a section on “Death with Dignity’ Gawande quotes the Stephen Jay Gould, the distinguished evolutionist from his 1985 essay “The Median isn’t the Message.” A few years earlier, in 1982, Gould had been given a diagnosis of Peritoneal Mesothelioma, a rare form of abdominal cancer, and given a life expectancy of 8 months. He actually died, 20 years later, of lung cancer, an entirely different illness. Gould writes:
“It has become, in my view, a bit too trendy to regard the acceptance of death as something tantamount to intrinsic dignity. Of course I agree with the preacher of Ecclesiastes that there is a time to love and a time to die – and when my skein runs out I hope to face the end calmly and in my own way. For most situations, however, I prefer the more martial view that death is the ultimate enemy – and I find nothing reproachable in those who rage mightily against the dying of the light.”
Gould’s case may be exceptional, but Gawande is concerned about the rise of the “Death with Dignity” movement, fearing that it may become the default option for the convenience of family and society when other options exist, including adult communities in the early stages of decline, or hospice towards the end. He recognizes that there are cases where it may be the best option, but questions the significant growth in rates of assisted suicide, currently around 5% in Canada’s Quebec province and the Netherlands. Ultimately, Gawande comes down on the side of Hospice and Palliative Care (HPM). It is sobering to learn that HPM was only recognized as a specialty by the American Board of Medical Specialties in 2008, lagging the UK by more than 20 years who recognized it as a medical specialty in 1987. But it is also encouraging to learn that palliative care programs in US hospitals with 50 or more beds have increased from 20% in 2000 to 84% in 2022. A search of my health insurance’s website returned 59 HPM specialists in my geographic area.
For all this, addressing the complex issues surrounding the end of life is not easy. There is significant room for policy development in this area, and it is to be hoped that policy makers will read this book, understand it, and find the will to act upon its recommendations.
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