Nathanial Bagshaw Ward was the son of Stephen Smith Ward, a
doctor practicing at Wellclose Square, a deprived area of Whitechapel in
London. He was apprenticed as an
apothecary and became a member of the Royal College of Surgeons in 1814, and
later took over his father’s medical practice.
He was professionally active, being a Master of the Society of
Apothecaries, a founding member of the Microscopical Society, a member of the
Botanical Society of Edinburgh, a fellow of the Linnean Society, a fellow of
the Royal Society and a member of the gardens subcommittee of the Chelsea
Physic Garden. He was also a keen naturalist
and amateur botanist, escaping the fog and grime of the East End for the
countryside as often as work allowed.
It was Ward’s interest in natural history that led to his
eponymous invention. On one of his excursions
to the countryside, he collected the chrysalis of a Sphinx moth, hoping to
hatch the moth and add a perfect specimen to his collection. He put the chrysalis into a glass jar with a
little soil and closed the lid. After a
few days, Ward noticed that seedlings were beginning to germinate in the jar
and he observed them growing happily, in contrast to the plants in his garden
which refused to thrive in the smoky and polluted atmosphere of the London
docks. Ward continued his experiment,
keeping his seedlings in the jar in a north-facing part of the garden, loosely
covered with a tin lid. For three years
the plants survived without ever being watered.
It was only when the lid rusted and allowed rain to come in that the
plants eventually died.
Ward had inadvertently stumbled upon the idea of a self-sustaining microclimate where the moisture taken up from the soil through the roots of a plant evaporates through the leaves and condenses on the inside of a glass case then drips back down into the soil for the cycle to be repeated. He realised that, so long as a little fresh air is allowed to circulate, the case is positioned in daylight and the correct amount of moisture is present in the soil, the plants within will thrive. This discovery prompted the construction of the first Wardian case in 1833.
The impact of this simple invention was immense. Working with Loddiges nursery, Ward trialled
his cases for use in transporting living plants from overseas. Plant hunters had been exploring far-flung parts
of the globe for centuries but bringing viable specimens home had always been a
problem. Many attempts ended in failure
due to the conditions on board ship where fragile plants were subjected to
extremes of temperature, salty air, wind and sun. Precious specimens were at the mercy of indifferent
crews who were reluctant to share their fresh water and often stowed the crates
below deck for the duration of the voyage.
In 1833, Ward loaded a ship bound for Australia with two crates of
native British ferns. Surviving the
treacherous Cape Horn and passing through the Tropics, the ferns arrived in
Sydney alive and healthy. The cases were
unpacked and reloaded for the return journey with native Australian ferns which
arrived in Britain in a similarly healthy state.
This revolutionised the transportation of plants and
transformed the design of gardens, bringing hundreds of new species into
cultivation in Britain, giving rise to the bedding system and prompting crazes
for ferns, orchids and rhododendrons.
Ward’s cases were endorsed by the horticultural elite, with
recommendations by such eminent botanists as Sir William Hooker, Director of
Kew Gardens, who wrote to Ward in 1842: ‘I can have no hesitation in saying
that your invention has been the means of introducing a great number of new and
valuable plants to our gardens, from very distant countries, which would otherwise
still have remained unknown to us.’
The Wardian case proved an ideal way to grow ferns and was
instrumental in the Victorian Fern Craze.
Fashionable drawing rooms were adorned with an ornamental Fern Case,
designed using the principles of Ward’s case and embellished with finials and
architectural details on the outside and rockwork, fountains and fishponds
within. Protected from the industrial
atmosphere of the towns, as well as the coal and gas fumes of the drawing room,
prize specimens of ferns and foliage plants could thrive in a suitable
case. Even the poor could participate by
growing native species in a simple glass bottle, and Ward noted the comfort
which could be derived from green plants amid the urban drab.
The impact of the Wardian case spread much further than
gardens. The economy of the emerging
Empire was boosted by the growth of the rubber industry as plants were exported
from Brazil to the colonies, and the tea plant was taken from China to India
where it was introduced with great commercial success. Medical science was given a boost when the
cinchona tree (from which quinine is produced) was successfully transported
from South America to the developing counties where it was used in the
treatment of malaria.
The Wardian case was used for the transportation of live
plants until the 1950s when it was superseded by air freight. Experiments with double glazing and other
modern methods were tried but Ward’s original design – single-glazed, shaded
from extremes of sun, and with limited ventilation – was never bettered.
Further reading:
Caroline Ikin, The
Victorian Garden, 2012Nathanial Ward, On the Growth of Plants in Closely Glazed Cases, 1842
Sarah Whittingham, Fern Fever: The Story of Pteridomania, 2012
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