Introduction by Laura C. Martin:

November 13, 1991

I sit and look out over the remains of my flower garden. It appears brown and sad on this brisk November day, for an early fall frost has extinguished the bright hues and sweet fragrances of my garden. Spoiled by life in the American South, I pout because nature has robbed me of my garden as early as the middle of November. Then I chuckle, remembering that my northern friends have been buried under a blanket of snow for a month now.

It is easy to be spoiled in the South. Our growing season is long, we generally have ample rain, and the sun is hot and good for growing a multitude of wonderful plants. The wildflowers of the fields and forests are spectacular in their natural glory, and more formal gardens nearly burst with the vibrant hues of pampered and cherished cultivated flowers. The South must be the most beautiful country on earth.

The settlers who first came here certainly thought so. They sent glowing reports back to the homeland, writing of the incomparable beauty of the area. John Archdale wrote, in 1707, "The road out of Charles-Town for 3-4 miles, called Broad-Way is so delightful a Road and Walk of great breadth, so pleasantly green, that I believe no princes in Europe, by all their Art, can make so pleasant a sight for the whole year."

The most exciting gardens in the South today combine a touch of the past and a hint of the future. Gardens like those at Thomas Jefferson's Monticello and George Washington's Mount Vernon are steeped in tradition and offer us a living reminder of the importance of these men and their love of gardening.

Throughout our eventful history the men and women of the South have been closely tied to the earth. The rich soils of the region made millionaires of those who planted such crops of cotton and tobacco. These people of wealth and prominence created gardens reflecting the money that was earned from the land.

Plantation gardens such as Afton Villa and Rosedown give us glimpses of an opulent and exciting way of life in the antebellum South. Although they have suffered from the ravages of war and time, these beautiful gardens today are living examples of the persistence and rejuvenating power of southern gardeners.

Although southern gardens combine many rare and exotic flowers and shrubs from all over the world, the gardens themselves remain undeniably southern. Live oak trees dripping with Spanish moss, and huge, spreading magnolias can only mean a southern garden.

By the turn of the century the South had a different kind of millionaire. The money, this time, did not come from the soil, but from industry and mechanization. Many wealthy and important people came from the North and settled in the South. George Vanderbilt found refuge in the mountains of North Carolina. James Deering found peace in his Italian estate on Biscayne Bay in Florida. Other millionaires, such as Cason Calloway and Walter Bellingrath, were born and bred Southerners who created their estates close to their homeland. We in the South are fortunate to live near so many beautiful gardens and estates. Many of these are breathtaking in their grand displays of flowers and plants. Others are smaller but not less pleasing in their intricate detail of design.

Peace and tranquility mingle with a sense of history, an aura that pervades the southern garden today. From the tiny swept yards of Old Salem, North Carolina, to the grand gardens of magnificent coastal plantations, the southern garden is a unique and beautiful entity where the seeds of yesterday have grown into the towering trees of today. And yet, a new chapter in history is written every day. In the fall of 1992, Hurricane Andrew tore through southern Florida, causing extensive damage to both Vizcaya and Fairchild Gardens. With indominitable spirit and unending optimism, individuals at these gardens immediately began to pick up the pieces and plant again. To explore the southern garden is to discover the essence of the South. The men and women who created these gardens, though separated by time, geography, and social and economic class, shared a common love for the goodness of the earth.

Gardening in the South means having the sweet scent of camellias linger forever in your memory. To be a southern gardener is to love the mighty magnolia as well as the tiny trailing arbutus, and to appreciate each for its unique contribution to the southern garden. With the legacy of love and understanding left to us by our ancestors, we must face the environmental problems challenging the global community today. Through love of the earth and understanding of the delicate balance of nature, we must become good stewards of our planet.