Trebah Garden is a spectacular piece of paradise in Cornwall, England, a
ravine with a huge variety of trees and shrubs that winds its way down to
a beach on the Helford River. Several years ago I visited this garden to
enjoy its beauty. I soon learned that its history and governance are as interesting
as its flora.
The property is first recorded in the Domesday Book of 1086 as belonging
to the Bishop of Exeter. It passed through the hands of many squires and
farmers until it was acquired in 1831 by a wealthy Quaker family, which developed
the extraordinary garden. In the twentieth century the property changed hands
several more times and the garden gradually deteriorated. The last private
owners sank a small fortune into restoring the garden, then donated it to
the Trebah Garden Trust, so it could be opened to the public and preserved
for future generations.
Today, anyone can become a lifetime member of this trust by making a donation
of £250. Members get free access to the garden (other visitors pay
an admission fee) and elect a council to manage the property. They receive
an annual report, audited accounts, and notices of meetings at which they
may vote and submit resolutions. At present, there are about a thousand voting
members of the trust.
As I wandered through the acres of ferns and rhododendrons, it struck
me that Trebah is a microcosm for the ideas in this book. It has
passed from
private ownership to a form of common ownership that enables
it to be shared and preserved. If we think of the world as an assemblage
of
gardens — that
is, of ecosystems in which humans play active roles — the
Trebah model becomes extremely interesting. It illuminates both
a process by which natural
gifts can shift from private to common ownership, and an institutional
model — the
trust — for managing such gifts as permanent parts of the
commons. ... read
the whole chapter