The Seeds of an Empire (1759-1772)

On a crisp afternoon in 1759, Princess Augusta of Saxe-Gotha stood in the grounds of Kew Palace, surveying what would become one of the world’s most important botanical institutions. The widowed princess, mother to the future King George III, had a vision: to create an exotic garden that would showcase the botanical wonders of the world. With just nine acres of land carved from the royal estate along the Thames, she enlisted Lord Bute, a passionate amateur botanist and her close advisor, to help realize this dream.

Lord Bute’s enthusiasm for plants was infectious. He corresponded with botanists across Europe, acquiring seeds and specimens with the fervor of a collector pursuing rare treasures. Among the early arrivals were exotic specimens that had never been seen on English soil: delicate orchids from tropical forests, aromatic herbs from Mediterranean hillsides, and strange succulents from African deserts. Each plant told a story of distant lands and daring expeditions.

The architect Sir William Chambers was commissioned to create structures befitting such an ambitious collection. In 1762, he completed the Great Pagoda, a ten-story Chinese tower that soared 163 feet into the Surrey sky. Its exotic design—with upturned eaves decorated with 80 dragons—reflected the 18th-century fascination with Oriental aesthetics and served as a dramatic focal point for the gardens. Chambers also designed smaller temples, including the Temple of Arethusa and the Temple of Bellona, creating a landscape where visitors could wander through what felt like a botanical world tour without ever leaving England.

But the most significant plants in these early years were often the most unassuming. In one corner of the garden grew specimens of Cinchona officinalis, the fever tree from South America, whose bark contained quinine—a substance that would prove crucial in treating malaria and enabling European colonization of tropical regions. Little did Princess Augusta know that her hobby garden would become instrumental in reshaping global trade and empire.

The Banks Revolution: Kew Becomes the Center of the Botanical World (1772-1820)

When King George III inherited the gardens upon his mother’s death in 1772, he made a decision that would transform Kew forever. He appointed his friend Sir Joseph Banks as the garden’s unofficial director, and with that choice, Kew’s destiny shifted from royal pleasure ground to scientific powerhouse.

Banks was no armchair botanist. At just 25 years old, he had joined Captain James Cook’s first voyage aboard the HMS Endeavour (1768-1771), spending three years circumnavigating the globe. He had stood on the shores of Botany Bay in Australia, watching his team collect specimens of plants no European had ever documented. He had pressed flowers in Tahiti, sketched trees in New Zealand, and nearly died from cold while plant-hunting in Tierra del Fuego. He returned to England with over 30,000 plant specimens and 1,400 species never before described by Western science, accompanied by the brilliant botanical artist Sydney Parkinson, whose detailed illustrations would become legendary.

At Kew, Banks immediately established a global network of plant hunters—adventurous botanists who would brave disease, shipwreck, hostile territories, and harsh climates to send back specimens. Francis Masson became Kew’s first official plant collector in 1772, and his expeditions to South Africa would transform European horticulture forever.

Masson’s South African Treasures

Francis Masson’s adventures in South Africa read like an adventure novel. Setting sail for the Cape of Good Hope, he spent years exploring regions where few Europeans had ventured. Accompanied by the Swedish botanist Carl Peter Thunberg, Masson trekked through mountains, deserts, and forests, often traveling with ox-wagons and local guides.

In the rocky soils of the Cape, Masson discovered extraordinary plants adapted to harsh conditions. He sent back the first Strelitzia reginae—the Bird of Paradise flower—which caused a sensation when it bloomed at Kew. Its brilliant orange and blue petals, shaped like an exotic bird’s head, seemed almost too fantastical to be real. Named in honor of Queen Charlotte (born Charlotte of Mecklenburg-Strelitz), this flower became one of the most sought-after ornamental plants in European gardens.

Masson also collected dozens of species of Pelargoniums—what gardeners today call geraniums—including the rose-scented Pelargonium graveolens and the intensely fragrant Pelargonium capitatum. These would become staples of Victorian conservatories and cottage gardens worldwide. He discovered spectacular Proteas, with their architectural flower heads that looked like alien spacecraft, and delicate Ericas (heaths) in shades of pink, white, and purple that carpeted the mountainsides.

Perhaps most dramatic were his discoveries of succulents: massive Aloe species with spikes of coral-red flowers, weird Euphorbia species that resembled cacti but oozed toxic white sap, and the extraordinary Welwitschia mirabilis—a plant that produces just two leaves that grow continuously throughout its thousand-year lifespan.

The Breadfruit Affair: A Plant That Changed History

One of Banks’s most ambitious projects involved a humble tree that would trigger a mutiny and reshape Caribbean agriculture. In Tahiti, Banks had encountered Artocarpus altilis—the breadfruit tree—whose starchy fruits were a staple food for Pacific islanders. A single tree could produce 200 fruits per year, each weighing several pounds, and the trees required minimal cultivation. Banks became convinced that breadfruit could feed enslaved workers on Caribbean sugar plantations cheaply and efficiently.

In 1787, Captain William Bligh set sail on the HMS Bounty with orders to collect breadfruit saplings from Tahiti and transport them to the West Indies. The ship was converted into a floating greenhouse, with the great cabin cleared to make room for hundreds of potted plants. After successfully collecting 1,015 breadfruit plants in Tahiti, the Bounty headed home. But the crew, who had spent five idyllic months on the island and had been forced to give up their water rations to keep the precious plants alive, mutinied. They set Bligh adrift and returned to Tahiti, dumping all the breadfruit plants overboard.

Bligh survived through remarkable navigation, and Banks, undeterred by this spectacular failure, sent Bligh out again in 1791. This time, Bligh successfully delivered 2,126 breadfruit plants to Jamaica and 544 to St. Vincent. The plants thrived, but ironically, enslaved people initially refused to eat the unfamiliar fruit. Only after emancipation did breadfruit become a Caribbean staple, and it remains an important food crop today.

The Tea Conspiracy

Banks also orchestrated one of history’s most audacious acts of botanical espionage. For centuries, China had maintained a monopoly on tea production, and the secrets of tea cultivation were closely guarded. British demand for tea was voracious—by the late 18th century, the British East India Company was spending enormous sums importing tea, creating a massive trade deficit.

Banks hatched a plan: steal tea plants and the knowledge of tea processing, then establish tea plantations in British India. The mission required secrecy and daring. In the 1780s, several collectors working under Banks’s direction managed to smuggle seeds and young plants of Camellia sinensis out of China, along with crucial information about cultivation and processing techniques.

The plants arrived at Kew, where they were carefully propagated before being sent to India. Initially, these attempts failed—the Chinese tea variety couldn’t adapt to Indian conditions. But in 1823, Robert Bruce discovered native tea plants (Camellia sinensis var. assamica) growing wild in Assam, India. This indigenous variety became the foundation of the Indian tea industry, supplemented by later successful introductions of Chinese varieties to the Darjeeling region.

By the mid-19th century, India had become a major tea producer, breaking China’s monopoly. Today, India is the world’s second-largest tea producer, and the entire industry traces back to those early specimens studied at Kew.

Rubber Trees and the Amazon

Another plant that Banks recognized as economically significant was Hevea brasiliensis—the rubber tree from the Amazon basin. Indigenous peoples had been harvesting rubber latex for centuries, but European demand was growing rapidly with industrialization.

The story of rubber’s journey from Brazil would reach its dramatic climax after Banks’s death, but he laid the groundwork. In 1876, Henry Wickham collected 70,000 rubber seeds from Brazil and rushed them to Kew aboard a chartered steamer. At Kew’s propagation houses, gardeners worked frantically to germinate the seeds before they lost viability. About 2,700 seedlings survived, and these were sent to Ceylon (Sri Lanka) and Singapore, establishing the Asian rubber industry that would eventually devastate Brazil’s rubber monopoly.

The rubber plantations of Malaysia and Southeast Asia—grown from those Kew seedlings—would become crucial during both World Wars, providing the raw material for vehicle tires, waterproof equipment, and countless military applications. A single collection of seeds, processed through Kew’s glasshouses, had shifted global economic power.

Flowering Curiosities and Garden Favorites

Not all of Banks’s introductions had such dramatic economic implications, but many transformed European horticulture. Through his network of collectors, Kew received:

• Fuchsia magellanica from South America—those elegant pendant flowers in purples and reds that would become Victorian garden staples
• Mimosa pudica, the “sensitive plant” from Brazil, whose leaves dramatically folded when touched, causing wonder in drawing rooms across England
• Spectacular Rhododendron species from the Himalayas, with flower trusses the size of dinner plates in shades ranging from pure white to deep crimson
• Camellia japonica varieties from Japan, which Banks helped popularize, leading to camellia-mania in fashionable society
• Australian Banksia species (named in Banks’s honor), with their extraordinary cylindrical flower spikes that resembled bottlebrushes

By Banks’s death in 1820, Kew housed approximately 7,000 species—an extraordinary collection that made it the undisputed center of botanical knowledge in the world.

The Hooker Dynasty and Victorian Splendor (1820-1901)

When Kew was officially transferred to state control in 1840, it needed a director worthy of its reputation. The government chose Sir William Jackson Hooker, a Scottish botanist of immense energy and vision. At 55, Hooker was already one of Britain’s most distinguished botanists, having built an enormous personal herbarium and plant collection. He accepted the position on the condition that Kew would become a true scientific institution, not merely a pleasure garden.

Building Cathedrals of Glass

Hooker immediately recognized that Kew needed proper facilities for its growing collection of tropical plants. The existing hothouses were inadequate—small, inefficient, and unable to recreate the humid conditions required by rainforest species. He commissioned architect Decimus Burton and iron-founder Richard Turner to design something revolutionary: a glasshouse that would be both functionally perfect and architecturally magnificent.

The result was the Palm House, completed in 1848. Standing 66 feet high and 362 feet long, it was the largest glasshouse in the world at the time. Its curved iron framework supported 16,000 panes of glass in a design that resembled an upturned ship’s hull—Turner had learned his craft building ships, and the Palm House reflected that maritime heritage. Beneath the glass, an ingenious heating system circulated hot water through pipes, maintaining tropical temperatures even during English winters.

The Palm House opened to the public on a foggy morning in 1848, and visitors were transported from grey Victorian London to a steaming jungle. They walked beneath towering palms from the Caribbean, South America, and the Pacific islands. Roystonea regia, the Cuban royal palm, stretched upward, its smooth grey trunk supporting a crown of enormous fronds. Iriartea deltoidea, the walking palm from Central America, stood on strange stilt-like roots that seemed ready to march across the floor.

Among the palms grew equally exotic companions: Musa species—the bananas—with their massive paddle-shaped leaves and strange purple flowers; Heliconia with their lobster-claw flowers in brilliant reds and yellows; climbing Philodendron species with leaves sometimes three feet across; and delicate ferns that had evolved in the understory of ancient forests.

One palm in particular captured public imagination: Lodoicea maldivica, the coco de mer from the Seychelles. This palm produces the largest seed in the plant kingdom—a double coconut weighing up to 66 pounds and resembling a human pelvis. For centuries, these seeds had washed up on Indian Ocean shores, and their origin was a complete mystery, leading to wild legends about underwater forests. When their true source was finally discovered in 1768, specimens became prized botanical treasures. The coco de mer palm growing at Kew became famous, and visitors would stand beneath its enormous fan-shaped leaves, marveling at this living mystery from a distant archipelago.

The Temperate House: An Even Grander Vision

Not content with the Palm House, Hooker commissioned Burton to design an even larger structure for plants from temperate and subtropical regions. The Temperate House, begun in 1859, would take 40 years to complete. When finished in 1899, it was the largest Victorian glasshouse in the world—covering nearly an acre and standing 59 feet high.

The Temperate House became home to plants from regions with Mediterranean, subtropical, and cool temperate climates:

From Australia came Eucalyptus species, their aromatic leaves releasing clouds of menthol scent when crushed. Acacia species displayed their curious yellow powder-puff flowers—botanists explained that what looked like petals were actually masses of stamens, and the true petals were microscopic. The grass trees (Xanthorrhoea) from Western Australia looked prehistoric, with their blackened trunks topped by spiky grass-like foliage and tall spikes of white flowers.

South African plants dominated one section: Protea cynaroides, the king protea, produced flower heads the size of dinner plates, their pink bracts surrounding a mass of furry florets. The silver tree (Leucadendron argenteum) glowed with its metallic leaves covered in fine hairs. Massive Strelitzia nicolai, the white bird of paradise, grew to 20 feet tall, its flowers white and blue rather than the more familiar orange.

Chilean plants included Lapageria rosea, the national flower of Chile, with its waxy pink bell-shaped flowers that seemed almost artificial in their perfection. Puya species from the Andes produced flower spikes up to 15 feet tall, covered in metallic blue-green flowers that hummingbirds would pollinate in the wild.

The Hooker Himalayan Expeditions

In 1865, William Hooker retired and his son, Joseph Dalton Hooker, succeeded him as director. Joseph Hooker was arguably the greatest botanical explorer of the Victorian age. Between 1847 and 1851, he had undertaken an epic expedition to Sikkim and Tibet, traveling through some of the most dangerous and botanically rich terrain on Earth.

Hooker’s journals read like adventure novels. He described crossing glacial streams on narrow bridges made of twisted bamboo, climbing through rhododendron forests so dense that his party had to cut their way through, and negotiating with suspicious local rulers who sometimes imprisoned him as a suspected spy. He suffered from altitude sickness at 18,000 feet, endured leeches in the monsoon season, and once narrowly escaped being crushed by a falling boulder.

But the botanical treasures he found made every hardship worthwhile. In the valleys and mountains of Sikkim, Hooker discovered over 40 new species of Rhododendron. These weren’t the modest shrubs known in Europe, but spectacular plants ranging from tiny alpine species to trees 40 feet tall.

Rhododendron arboreum painted entire mountainsides crimson with its blood-red flowers in spring. Rhododendron grande (now R. sinogrande) produced leaves up to three feet long and flower trusses with dozens of cream-colored blooms. Rhododendron niveum bloomed at the edge of snowfields, its purple flowers emerging as the snow melted. The rare blue-flowered Rhododendron campanulatum grew at elevations where few other plants could survive.

Hooker also found extraordinary Primula species: Primula sikkimensis with its nodding yellow bells, Primula capitata with its globular purple flower heads dusted with white powder, and dozens more. He discovered the tree poppy (Meconopsis paniculata) with its yellow flowers, and various Meconopsis species with those extraordinary sky-blue flowers that became obsessions for British gardeners.

Perhaps most spectacular were the giant lily species. Cardiocrinum giganteum produced stems up to 12 feet tall, bearing dozens of fragrant white trumpet flowers. In cultivation at Kew, these plants became sensations, with visitors arriving specifically to see them bloom.

Orchid Fever

The Victorian era was gripped by “orchid fever”—a mania for these exotic and often bizarre flowers that reached such intensity that fortunes were spent, and some collectors literally died in pursuit of new species. Kew became a center of orchid cultivation and study, though Joseph Hooker maintained a more scientific approach than the speculators who drove prices to absurd levels.

Orchids arrived at Kew from every tropical region, each more extraordinary than the last:

From Southeast Asia came Paphiopedilum species—the lady’s slipper orchids—with their pouch-shaped lips and often bizarrely mottled or striped petals. Paphiopedilum rothschildianum, discovered in Borneo, had striped petals that could span eight inches, earning it the nickname “the king of the slipper orchids.” A single plant reportedly sold for the equivalent of $60,000 in today’s money.

Central and South American species included Cattleya orchids, with their enormous, ruffled flowers in shades of purple, pink, and white. Cattleya labiata became the archetypal corsage orchid, its lavender petals and deep purple lip making it instantly recognizable. The legendary Cattleya dowiana from Costa Rica had golden-yellow petals surrounding a purple lip striped with gold—it looked more like jewelry than a flower.

The strangest orchids came from various sources: Coryanthes species, called bucket orchids, produced flowers with a actual bucket-like structure that filled with liquid, forcing pollinating bees to swim through it. Dracula species from cloud forests looked disturbingly like monkey faces or tiny demons. Bulbophyllum phalaenopsis produced flowers that reeked of rotting meat to attract carrion flies for pollination.

One of the most important orchid specimens at Kew was Vanilla planifolia, the vanilla orchid from Mexico. This climbing vine produced greenish-yellow flowers that, when hand-pollinated (a technique that had to be discovered, as the orchid’s natural pollinator didn’t exist outside Mexico), would develop into the vanilla pods that produced the world’s most popular flavor. Kew’s specimens helped establish vanilla cultivation in Madagascar and other tropical regions.

Economic Botany: Plants That Built Empires

Under both Hookers, Kew’s Economic Botany collection expanded dramatically. This wasn’t simply academic interest—these were plants and plant products that drove global trade, enabled colonization, and sometimes determined the outcomes of wars.

The Museum of Economic Botany, established by William Hooker in 1847, displayed:

• Fibers: Cotton bolls (Gossypium species) from America, Asia, and Africa; jute (Corchorus capsularis) from Bengal used for rope and sacking; sisal (Agave sisalana) from Central America; hemp (Cannabis sativa) for rope and sailcloth.
  
• Timbers: Samples of mahogany (Swietenia mahagoni) from the Caribbean and Central America, prized for furniture; teak (Tectona grandis) from Asia, essential for shipbuilding; ebony (Diospyros species) from Africa and Asia, so dense it sank in water.
  
• Dyes and pigments: Indigo (Indigofera tinctoria) that produced the deep blue dye that colored naval uniforms and denim; madder (Rubia tinctorum) for red dyes; logwood (Haematoxylum campechianum) for blacks and purples.
  
• Medicinal plants: Ipecac (Carapichea ipecacuanha) from Brazil for treating dysentery; Strychnos nux-vomica containing strychnine, used in small doses as a stimulant; Atropa belladonna, deadly nightshade, source of atropine used in eye surgery and as an antidote to nerve agents.
  
• Spices: Samples of cloves (Syzygium aromaticum), nutmeg (Myristica fragrans), cinnamon (Cinnamomum verum), and black pepper (Piper nigrum)—the plants that had driven European exploration and colonization of the tropics.
  

Kew’s scientists studied these plants intensively, advising the Colonial Office on where and how to cultivate them. When coffee rust disease (Hemileia vastatrix) devastated Ceylon’s coffee plantations in the 1870s, Kew recommended switching to tea and helped supply the initial plants. When rubber demand exploded with the invention of pneumatic tires, Kew coordinated the establishment of rubber plantations across British colonies.

Discoveries in the Herbarium

While the living collections dazzled visitors, perhaps Kew’s most important scientific work happened in the herbarium—the collection of preserved plant specimens. By the end of the 19th century, Kew’s herbarium contained millions of specimens, each carefully pressed, mounted, and labeled.

These dried plants might seem less exciting than tropical blooms or towering palms, but they were the foundation of botanical science. When a collector sent a potentially new species to Kew, botanists would compare it against every specimen in the herbarium. They might spend weeks examining minute details—the pattern of leaf veins, the number of stamens, the shape of seeds—to determine whether this was truly a new species or simply a variation of something already known.

The herbarium contained the “type specimens”—the original pressed plants from which species were first described. If scientists anywhere in the world wanted to verify the identity of a plant, they could request to examine Kew’s type specimen. This made Kew the final arbiter of plant taxonomy.

Among the treasures in the herbarium were specimens collected by:

• Captain Cook’s voyages, pressed by Banks and Daniel Solander in the 1770s
• Charles Darwin’s specimens from the Beagle voyage, including plants from the Galápagos that helped inform his theory of evolution
• David Livingstone’s collections from Africa
• Alfred Russel Wallace’s specimens from the Amazon and Malaysia
• Joseph Hooker’s own Himalayan collections

Each specimen told a story. A pressed flower might represent a grueling expedition, or the first time European eyes had seen that species. Some specimens came from plants now extinct in the wild, preserved only in botanical gardens and herbaria.

The World Wars and Transition (1914-1950)

The 20th century brought unprecedented challenges to Kew. When World War I erupted in 1914, the gardens faced an existential question: what was the purpose of botanical beauty when the nation was fighting for survival?

The Great War: Gardens Under Siege

Kew’s response was pragmatic but painful. Large sections of the gardens were converted to agricultural production. The broad lawns where Victorian families had strolled were plowed up and planted with potatoes, wheat, and vegetables. Areas that had showcased ornamental borders became production plots.

The arboretum—the collection of trees—faced particular pressure. With timber shortages critical for the war effort, there were calls to harvest Kew’s mature trees. Director David Prain resisted, arguing that some specimens were irreplaceable scientific resources. However, some felling occurred, and the arboretum emerged from the war diminished.

But Kew also made important contributions to the war effort through its expertise. Staff worked on:

• Identifying substitute sources for essential plant products when supplies were cut off
• Investigating how to extract rubber from British-grown plants as submarine warfare threatened shipping
• Studying medicinal plants that could replace imported drugs
• Advising on increasing food production across Britain

The Interwar Period: Exploration Continues

The 1920s and 1930s saw a resumption of plant exploration, though the age of the great individual plant hunters was ending. Expeditions became more organized, often sponsored by botanical institutions working together.

Frank Kingdon-Ward became the most celebrated plant hunter of this era. Between 1911 and 1956, he undertook 25 expeditions, primarily in the borderlands of Tibet, Burma, and China—some of the most politically unstable and physically challenging regions on Earth.

Kingdon-Ward discovered or introduced hundreds of species, particularly Rhododendron, Primula, and Meconopsis. He found Meconopsis betonicifolia, the Himalayan blue poppy, which became one of the most coveted garden plants of the 20th century. Its pure sky-blue petals—a color almost nonexistent among poppies—seemed impossibly beautiful. Gardeners discovered it was also impossibly difficult to grow, requiring cool, humid conditions and dying after flowering unless carefully managed.

He also introduced Rhododendron wardii (named in his honor) with its clear yellow flowers, Lilium wardii with its pink-purple spotted blooms, and dozens of Primula species that enriched European gardens.

In 1928, Kingdon-Ward barely survived an earthquake in Assam that killed thousands. His expedition diary, later published, described how “the ground began to move in waves like the sea” while he was collecting plants at 12,000 feet. He survived by clinging to a boulder while the mountainside collapsed around him. Remarkably, he managed to save most of his plant specimens.

World War II: Bombs and Resilience

World War II brought even greater challenges than the first war. Kew lay in the flight path of German bombers targeting London, and the gardens suffered direct hits.

On November 27, 1940, a bomb struck the center section of the Temperate House, destroying decades of careful cultivation. The explosion shattered thousands of panes of glass and killed or damaged numerous irreplaceable plants. Staff worked through the night in the freezing cold, trying to move surviving plants to shelter.

The Palm House was damaged by bomb blast and shrapnel. Other glasshouses suffered broken glass, leaving tropical plants exposed to English winters. With glass rationed for the war effort, proper repairs were impossible. Gardeners improvised, using whatever materials they could find to patch holes and keep plants alive.

Once again, portions of the gardens were converted to food production. But this time, Kew also served as a repository for collections from other botanical gardens threatened by bombing. Specimens were evacuated to Kew for safekeeping, making the gardens even more crowded and increasing the stakes if it were destroyed.

Kew’s scientists worked on war-critical projects:

• Studying tropical crops to help maintain supplies despite submarine warfare
• Investigating synthetic rubber production as Japanese conquest of Southeast Asia cut off natural rubber supplies
• Identifying edible plants and potential food substitutes
• Advising on camouflage techniques using plant materials

Tragically, some staff members died during the war, and many of the gardens’ records and historical documents were destroyed or damaged.

Post-War Recovery and Scientific Revolution (1950-2000)

The decades following World War II saw Kew transform from primarily a collection and identification institution into a modern research center employing cutting-edge scientific techniques.

Rebuilding and Restoration

The immediate post-war years focused on repairing damage and recovering from years of neglect. The Temperate House remained partially damaged until full restoration could be funded. Gardeners worked to rebuild depleted collections, though some pre-war specimens were lost forever.

But Kew also looked forward. In 1965, the Jodrell Laboratory opened, providing modern facilities for anatomical, cytological, and biochemical research on plants. This wasn’t just about describing new species anymore—scientists were investigating the fundamental biology of plant life.

Research expanded into new areas:

Plant anatomy and morphology: Using electron microscopy to examine plant structures at cellular and subcellular levels. Scientists discovered that details invisible to traditional microscopy could help classify difficult plant groups.

Biochemistry and phytochemistry: Analyzing the chemical compounds plants produced. This helped understand plant relationships (closely related plants often produce similar chemicals) and identify useful medicinal compounds.

Plant cytology and genetics: Studying plant chromosomes and inheritance patterns. This work revealed that many garden plants were actually hybrids or had unusual genetic constitutions, explaining why some species were difficult to classify.

The DNA Revolution

The 1980s and 1990s brought a revolution in biological science: DNA sequencing. For the first time, scientists could directly compare the genetic material of different plants, revealing evolutionary relationships with unprecedented accuracy.

Kew established a molecular laboratory and began systematically sequencing DNA from its collections. The results sometimes shocked botanists who had spent careers studying traditional characteristics like flower structure.

Plants that had been classified together for centuries turned out to be only distantly related—their similarities were due to convergent evolution (adapting to similar environments) rather than common ancestry. Conversely, plants that looked completely different were revealed to be close relatives.

One famous example involved the Asparagus family. Traditional classification had grouped asparagus with lilies based on flower structure. DNA evidence revealed that many plants previously scattered across different families—including Agave, Yucca, Dracaena, and even Hyacinthoides (bluebells)—were actually asparagus relatives. The classification of flowering plants had to be completely reorganized.

Kew scientists became leaders in using DNA to build a comprehensive “tree of life” for plants, showing how all plant species were related through evolution.

Conservation Crisis: From Collection to Salvation

By the 1970s, botanists recognized an alarming truth: plants were going extinct at an accelerating rate. Habitat destruction, particularly tropical deforestation, was eliminating species faster than they could even be discovered and described.

Kew’s mission evolved. While still maintaining its role as a center for plant taxonomy and documentation, the gardens became increasingly focused on conservation. The question changed from “what plants exist?” to “how can we prevent plants from disappearing?”

In 1974, Kew established a seed bank at Wakehurst Place, its country estate in Sussex. This wasn’t ornamental gardening—this was plant insurance. Seeds from endangered species were collected, dried, and stored at -20°C (-4°F), where they could remain viable for decades or even centuries.

The seed bank became crucial for species that were declining or already extinct in the wild. Seeds stored at Wakehurst represented the last hope for some plants, the only material from which they could potentially be reintroduced to nature.

New Glasshouses for a New Era

In 1987, the Princess of Wales Conservatory opened, representing a new approach to displaying plants. Rather than organizing by geography (as in the Palm House and Temperate House), this conservatory created ten different climate zones, each controlled by sophisticated computer systems.

Visitors could walk from an arid desert environment, where cacti and succulents thrived, into a humid tropical zone filled with orchids and carnivorous plants, then into a mangrove swamp where strange trees grew with their roots submerged in brackish water.

The conservatory showcased the incredible diversity of plant adaptations:

In the dry tropical zone: Pachypodium species from Madagascar, looking like miniature baobab trees covered in spines, with flowers at their tips. Adenium obesum, the desert rose, with its swollen trunk storing water and its bright pink flowers emerging before leaves. Massive Euphorbia species that resembled cacti but were actually from Africa.

In the wet tropics: Carnivorous pitcher plants (Nepenthes species) dangling traps that digested insects. Some, like Nepenthes rajah from Borneo, produced pitchers large enough to drown rats. Rafflesia arnoldii, the world’s largest flower, couldn’t be grown but was featured in displays—in the wild, these parasitic flowers can reach three feet across and smell like rotting flesh.

In the orchid section: Spectacular hybrids developed from species collected over centuries. Phalaenopsis moth orchids in rainbow colors. Miniature orchids like Masdevallia species, their flowers like tiny kites. Giant vandas with tessellated patterns on their petals.

The fern house featured primitive plants that had dominated Earth’s forests 300 million years ago: tree ferns (Cyatheaceae and Dicksoniaceae) with their trunks formed from roots and dead fronds, topped by crowns of elegant fronds. Platycerium staghorn ferns growing as epiphytes. Delicate filmy ferns (Hymenophyllaceae) whose leaves were just one cell thick.

The Modern Era: Kew in the 21st Century (2000-Present)

The 21st century has seen Kew embrace its role not just as a garden or research institution, but as a global leader in plant conservation and documentation.

The Millennium Seed Bank Partnership

Launched in 2000, the Millennium Seed Bank Partnership became the most ambitious plant conservation project in history. The goal was breathtaking: to collect and conserve seeds from 25% of the world’s plant species by 2020 (later extended to 2030).

This required partnerships with institutions in over 100 countries. Kew trained botanists in seed collection and storage techniques, then worked with them to target threatened species in their regions.

The underground vault at Wakehurst Place, designed to survive even catastrophic events, holds seeds from:

• The last survivors: Some species exist only as seeds in the bank. Lycium intricatum, a shrub from South America, is extinct in the wild—the only living examples grew from Millennium Seed Bank seeds.
  
• Crop wild relatives: Wild species related to crops like wheat, rice, and barley. These contain genetic diversity that could be crucial for developing disease-resistant or climate-adapted crop varieties. Triticum species from the Middle East, wild relatives of wheat, could be essential for future food security.
  
• Rare endemics: Species that exist only in tiny areas, like Medusagyne oppositifolia from the Seychelles, a living fossil that’s the sole survivor of an ancient plant family that once grew across the supercontinent Gondwana.
• Useful plants: Species with potential for medicine, food, or materials. Hoodia gordonii from southern Africa, traditionally used by indigenous peoples as an appetite suppressant, has been studied for potential obesity treatments. Tetrapleura tetraptera from West Africa, used in traditional medicine, shows promise for treating diabetes.

By 2020, the Millennium Seed Bank had banked over 2.4 billion seeds representing more than 40,000 species—13% of the world’s flora. Each collection tells a story: botanists trekking through remote mountains, negotiating with local communities, racing against habitat destruction to collect seeds before a species disappears forever.

One dramatic example: In 2008, Kew scientists heard that a dam project in Madagascar would flood one of the last remaining forests. They mounted an emergency expedition, working around the clock to collect seeds from as many species as possible before the forest vanished underwater. They saved seeds from over 200 species, including several that may now be extinct in the wild.

Rediscovering the Lost and Finding the New

Even in the 21st century, botanical exploration continues to reveal astonishing discoveries. In some cases, plants thought extinct for decades have been rediscovered; in others, species entirely new to science emerge from remote corners of the world or even from well-studied regions where they had been overlooked.

In 2017, Kew scientists described Gilbertiodendron maximum, a massive tree from Cameroon and Gabon that dominates vast areas of forest—yet had never been formally recognized as a distinct species. This tree forms single-species stands covering millions of acres, one of the largest populations of any tropical tree, yet it was essentially invisible to science until detailed study revealed it was distinct from related species.

The year 2019 brought the description of Uvariopsis dicaprio, a tropical tree from Cameroon named after actor Leonardo DiCaprio for his environmental activism. This tree grows only in an area threatened by logging, and fewer than 50 individual trees are known to exist. Its discovery highlighted both the richness of tropical forests and their vulnerability.

From New Guinea came the discovery of dozens of new Rhododendron species. Expeditions in the 2000s and 2010s, climbing remote mountains that had never been properly surveyed, found rhododendrons in an astonishing array of forms: some with flowers the size of teacups, others with blooms smaller than a fingernail; some growing as trees 50 feet tall, others as ground-hugging shrubs at the snowline.

Perhaps most exciting were rediscoveries of plants thought extinct. Thismia kobensis, a strange saprophytic plant from Japan, hadn’t been seen since 1992 when its only known habitat was destroyed for development. In 2018, a small population was discovered in a forest 30 kilometers away. The plant has no chlorophyll, living entirely by digesting fungi through its roots, and produces flowers that look like miniature glass sculptures.

The DNA Barcode Initiative

In 2009, Kew partnered with other institutions to develop DNA barcoding for plants—a standardized method of identifying species from small DNA samples. Just as products in a store have unique barcodes, each plant species has unique DNA sequences that can identify it.

This technology has revolutionary applications:

Forensics and conservation enforcement: When authorities seize suspected illegal timber shipments, DNA barcoding can determine whether wood comes from protected species. Customs officials have used it to identify rosewood (Dalbergia species) being smuggled from Madagascar, leading to prosecutions.

Medical safety: Traditional Chinese medicine uses hundreds of plant species, sometimes ground into powders where identification is impossible by sight. DNA barcoding revealed that many commercial products contained the wrong species—sometimes harmless mistakes, but occasionally dangerous substitutions. Aristolochia species (containing carcinogenic compounds) were found in products supposed to contain Stephania.

Food authenticity: DNA barcoding can verify whether expensive herbal products contain what they claim. Studies found that many “ginseng” supplements contained no actual ginseng (Panax species) at all, but cheaper fillers.

Biodiversity assessment: Scientists can now sample soil or water, extract all the plant DNA present, and identify species without ever seeing the actual plants. This allows rapid biodiversity surveys of remote or dangerous areas.

The Great Restoration: Bringing Victorian Glasshouses Back to Life

By the early 2000s, Kew’s Victorian glasshouses, particularly the Temperate House, were in crisis. Over a century of weather, pollution, and metal fatigue had left them structurally unsound. The Temperate House closed in 2013 for the largest Victorian glasshouse restoration project ever undertaken.

The five-year restoration was archaeological, architectural, and horticultural all at once. Every piece of the structure—69,000 individual elements—was documented before removal. Conservators discovered layers of history: Victorian paint samples, modifications from different eras, even graffiti from 19th-century workers.

The ironwork required painstaking restoration. Corroded sections were replaced using traditional metalworking techniques. The 15,000 panes of glass were replaced with modern equivalents that matched the Victorian glass’s appearance but offered better insulation and UV protection.

Meanwhile, the plants presented their own challenges. Some specimens were over 150 years old—older than most buildings in London. The Chilean wine palm (Jubaea chilensis) in the Temperate House had been planted in 1846, making it one of the oldest pot plants in the world. Moving it required custom-built equipment and a team of specialists. The plant weighed several tons, and damaging its root system could kill a specimen that had survived Victorian London, two world wars, and the Blitz.

Over 1,500 plants were carefully relocated to temporary homes while construction proceeded. Some went to other glasshouses at Kew; others were transported to partner institutions. Rare specimens were propagated as insurance—if the parent plant died during the move, its offspring would survive.

When the Temperate House reopened in 2018, it was transformed yet looked exactly as Victorians had seen it. The difference was invisible: modern climate control, efficient heating, improved drainage, and structural integrity guaranteed for another century.

The plants returned to their home, including new additions that showcased conservation stories:

Encephalartos woodii from South Africa—the loneliest plant in the world. This cycad is extinct in the wild. All known specimens are male, propagated from a single plant discovered in 1895. It can never reproduce sexually and survives only through offshoots. Kew’s specimen represents one of the last clones of an entire species.

Sophora toromiro from Easter Island—extinct in the wild since the 1960s, victim of deforestation and overgrazing. Kew grows one of the few surviving plants, propagated from seeds collected just before the wild population vanished. Conservation efforts are underway to reintroduce it to Easter Island.

Dombeya mauritiana from Mauritius—down to just two trees in the wild when Kew received seeds in 1979. Kew’s cultivation efforts saved the species, and now hundreds of plants grow in botanical gardens worldwide, with reintroduction programs ongoing.

Climate Change: A Garden Under Pressure

Kew itself has become a laboratory for understanding how plants respond to climate change. Temperature records dating back to 1773 show clear warming trends. Plants are blooming earlier—some spring flowers now appear three weeks earlier than in the Victorian era.

The Oak Collection provides stark evidence. Kew’s 14,000 oak trees (Quercus species) from around the world show varied responses to warming. Some Mediterranean species thrive with warmer, drier summers. But English oaks face new pressures—drought stress in summer, yet insufficient winter cold to properly enter dormancy. New pests and diseases, previously limited by cold winters, are establishing themselves.

In 2018, Kew initiated Project Leaf—a comprehensive study photographing every leaf in the collection at multiple times during the growing season. Artificial intelligence analyzes these images to detect subtle changes in leaf color, size, and timing that might indicate stress or adaptation. The project aims to predict which species will thrive and which will struggle as climate continues changing.

The State of the World’s Plants

In 2016, Kew published the first comprehensive “State of the World’s Plants” report, synthesizing data from institutions globally. The findings were sobering:

• Approximately 391,000 vascular plant species are currently known to science—far fewer than insects or fungi, but plants underpin nearly all terrestrial ecosystems.
  
• An estimated 2,000 new plant species are discovered and formally described each year. In 2019 alone, Kew scientists named 50 new species, including unusual beauties like Oberonia stenophylla from Madagascar, an orchid with flowers just 2mm wide, and Kindia gangan from Guinea, a coffee relative whose flowers are pollinated by a single species of ant.
  
• But discovery is racing against extinction: approximately 21% of plant species are threatened with extinction—one in five plants faces the risk of disappearing forever. In some regions, the numbers are catastrophic: 45% of tropical plants are threatened.
  
• The major threats are depressingly familiar: agriculture expansion (converting forests to farms), logging, urban development, climate change, and invasive species. In tropical regions, oil palm plantations and cattle ranching are primary drivers. In Madagascar, one of the world’s biodiversity hotspots, over 90% of original forest has been destroyed.
  

The Herbarium’s Digital Revolution

Kew’s herbarium, now containing over 8.5 million specimens, is undergoing digitization—photographing every specimen at high resolution and making images available online. This democratizes access to collections that were previously available only to specialists who could visit Kew in person.

The project has already yielded discoveries. A botanist in Brazil, studying photos of specimens collected 150 years ago, recognized a species thought extinct. This led to an expedition that rediscovered living populations. The plant had been hiding in plain sight, but only comparison with the historical specimen allowed certain identification.

Digital specimens also reveal hidden information. Under UV light, some flowers show patterns invisible to human eyes but visible to pollinators. Infrared photography reveals details about leaf structure. Even measuring subtle changes in specimen color over decades provides data about atmospheric pollution in Victorian London—the specimens themselves are historical records.

Interactive Gardens: Science for Everyone

Modern Kew balances serious science with public engagement. The Treetop Walkway (2008) lifts visitors 59 feet into the tree canopy, offering perspectives on forest structure impossible from ground level. Interpretive signs explain how this vertical stratification creates different ecological niches—sun-loving species in the canopy, shade-tolerant plants below, and specialized fungi and insects at every level.

The Hive (2016), a 56-foot-tall aluminum lattice structure, uses lights and sounds triggered by real bee activity in a nearby hive. As bees return with nectar, the structure glows and hums more intensely, making visible the otherwise invisible labor that produces one-third of human food through pollination.

Children’s Garden (2019) teaches young visitors about plants through play: a giant strawberry-shaped playhouse, climbing structures shaped like DNA helices, and hands-on exhibits about seeds, pollination, and plant growth.

These additions reflect Kew’s understanding that conservation requires public support, and public support requires emotional connection. A child who climbs through the Children’s Garden or watches the Hive pulse with bee activity may become a botanist, conservationist, or simply a citizen who cares about plant diversity.

Partnerships Across Borders

Modern conservation requires international collaboration. Kew partners with institutions in over 100 countries, recognizing that plants respect no borders and neither can conservation.

In Ethiopia, Kew works with local botanists to conserve Coffea arabica—the wild ancestor of coffee. As climate change threatens coffee-growing regions, these wild relatives may contain genetic diversity essential for breeding heat-tolerant varieties. But wild coffee forests are themselves threatened by deforestation.

In Colombia, partnerships focus on páramo ecosystems—high-altitude tropical grasslands crucial for water supply to millions of people. Kew helps document plant diversity, identify species threatened by agriculture expansion, and develop conservation strategies that balance human needs with ecosystem protection.

In Australia, Kew collaborates on the Australian Seed Bank Partnership, recognizing that Australia’s unique flora—90% of species found nowhere else—faces multiple threats from wildfire, drought, and invasive species. After the catastrophic 2019-2020 bushfires, seed banking became urgent for species whose populations were devastated.

COVID-19: Science Continues

When the COVID-19 pandemic struck in 2020, Kew closed to visitors for the first time since World War II. But science continued. Staff worked remotely, conducting research, writing papers, and managing data. The seed bank continued operating—seeds require constant monitoring and cannot wait for a pandemic to pass.

The gardens themselves benefited from the quiet. Without millions of visitors compacting soil along paths, some areas recovered. Wildlife increased—rabbits, foxes, and birds colonized normally crowded spaces. When Kew reopened, visitors found the gardens more lush and wild than they’d been in decades.

The pandemic also highlighted Kew’s relevance. As humans recognized their dependence on and vulnerability to the natural world, interest in plants, gardening, and conservation surged. Kew’s online resources saw unprecedented traffic—people hungry for connection with nature even in lockdown.

The Collections: A Census of Life

Today, Kew’s living collections represent one of the most comprehensive assemblages of plant diversity on Earth:

Trees of the World

The arboretum contains over 14,000 trees representing 2,000+ species. Some highlights:

• The Old Lions: Specimens planted in the 18th and 19th centuries still thrive. A black locust (Robinia pseudoacacia) dates to 1762, planted during Princess Augusta’s time. A maidenhair tree (Ginkgo biloba), a living fossil unchanged for 200 million years, was planted in 1762 and still produces seeds.
  
• The Champions: The tallest tree, a giant redwood (Sequoiadendron giganteum) from California, stands 130 feet tall and is still growing. The widest, a scarlet oak (Quercus coccinea), has a trunk circumference of 20 feet.
  
• The Rarities: The Wollemi pine (Wollemia nobilis), discovered in Australia in 1994—a species thought extinct for 2 million years, found surviving in a remote canyon. Only about 80 adult trees exist in the wild, and Kew’s specimens are part of a global effort to ensure survival.
  

The Glasshouse Collections

Kew’s glasshouses maintain approximately 18,000 species in cultivation:

The Palm House remains dominated by palms, cycads, and other primitive plants. The collection includes:

• Over 150 palm species, from tiny understory palms to 60-foot-tall Roystonea species
• Cycads representing all nine surviving families—these “living fossils” dominated Jurassic landscapes when dinosaurs roamed
• Breadfruit, rubber trees, and other economically important tropical species

The Princess of Wales Conservatory showcases over 10 climate zones:

• 650 orchid species, from miniatures to giants
• The world’s most comprehensive Nepenthes (pitcher plant) collection outside Southeast Asia
• Carnivorous plants from around the globe—sundews, venus flytraps, bladderworts, and butterworts
• Water lilies including Victoria amazonica, whose leaves grow to 10 feet across and can support a small child’s weight

The Temperate House displays plants from Mediterranean, subtropical, and temperate regions:

• The world’s largest indoor plant: Encephalartos altensteinii, a cycad from South Africa, standing 20 feet tall and estimated to be over 350 years old
• Proteas, banksias, and other plants from Southern Hemisphere fire-adapted ecosystems
• Rare species from Chile, South Africa, and Australia’s southwest—regions with extraordinary plant diversity

The Alpine House recreates high mountain conditions for plants from the world’s peaks:

• Tiny Primula species that bloom at the edge of glaciers
• Cushion plants from New Zealand’s mountains that grow one millimeter per year
• Saxifrages, gentians, and edelweiss from European Alps
• High-altitude succulents from the Andes that withstand nightly freezing

The Rock Garden and Mediterranean Garden

These outdoor plantings showcase plants from specific habitats:

The Rock Garden recreates alpine and subalpine environments with over 3,000 species. Spring brings carpets of miniature bulbs—Crocus, Iris, and Fritillaria species, some with flowers smaller than a thumbnail. Summer sees alpine pinks (Dianthus), gentians, and campanulas. Many species are rare in cultivation, grown from seed collected in the wild.

The Mediterranean Garden (opened 2016) features plants from five regions with Mediterranean climates: the actual Mediterranean, California, Chile, South Africa’s Cape, and southwestern Australia. These regions, though separated by oceans, have remarkably similar-looking plants due to convergent evolution in response to hot, dry summers and cool, wet winters.

The Herbarium: A Library of Life

The preserved plant collection contains:

• 8.5 million specimens, making it the largest and most diverse herbarium globally
• Specimens dating to the 17th century, including Carl Linnaeus’s personal collection—the foundation of modern plant naming
• Type specimens for over 250,000 plant names—the ultimate reference for plant identification
• Specimens from every continent (including Antarctica—Kew houses collections of Antarctic lichens and mosses)
• DNA samples extracted from specimens, allowing genetic study of plants collected centuries ago

The herbarium is arranged taxonomically—all species of a genus together, all genera of a family together—creating a physical representation of plant evolution. Walking through the herbarium is like walking through the tree of life.

The Fungarium

Less famous but equally important, Kew’s fungarium contains over 1.25 million preserved fungus specimens. Fungi, often overlooked, are crucial to ecosystems:

• Mycorrhizal fungi form partnerships with plant roots, helping plants absorb nutrients. Some plants cannot survive without their fungal partners.
• Decomposer fungi break down dead material, recycling nutrients
• Pathogenic fungi cause plant diseases that can devastate crops and forests
• Medicinal fungi produce compounds including antibiotics (penicillin), immunosuppressants, and potential cancer treatments

Kew scientists have described thousands of new fungus species, including bizarre forms like Ophiocordyceps species that parasitize insects, eventually erupting from their bodies to release spores—the “zombie fungi” featured in nature documentaries.

Looking Forward: Kew’s Future Mission

As Kew approaches its 270th anniversary, its mission has never been more urgent. The institution faces perhaps the greatest challenge in its history: can humans preserve plant diversity in the face of the sixth mass extinction?

The 2030 Conservation Strategy

Kew’s current strategic plan, “Our Manifesto for Change 2021-2030,” sets ambitious goals:

• Identify and conserve 25% of all plant species threatened with extinction
• Develop seed banking technology for recalcitrant species (plants with seeds that cannot be conventionally dried and frozen, including many tropical trees)
• Restore degraded ecosystems using science-based approaches informed by Kew’s research
• Mobilize plant diversity data to inform conservation decisions globally
• Build capacity by training the next generation of botanists, particularly in biodiversity-rich countries

Cryopreservation: The Frozen Zoo

For plants whose seeds cannot be stored conventionally, Kew is pioneering cryopreservation—storing living plant tissues at -196°C in liquid nitrogen. At this temperature, all biological processes stop, and tissues can theoretically remain viable indefinitely.

The technique involves:

1. Collecting growing shoot tips or embryos
2. Treating them with cryoprotectants (compounds that prevent ice crystal damage)
3. Ultra-rapid freezing in liquid nitrogen
4. Storage in insulated tanks
5. When needed, rapid thawing and tissue culture to regenerate plants

Kew has successfully cryopreserved over 300 species, including:

• Bananas and coconuts—critical food crops with recalcitrant seeds
• Oak species threatened by pests and diseases
• Tropical hardwoods whose seeds remain viable for only days after falling

This technology could be crucial for preserving plants as climate change accelerates beyond species’ ability to adapt naturally.

Plant AI: Machine Learning for Conservation

Kew is deploying artificial intelligence for conservation:

Automated species identification: Apps like PlantSnap and iNaturalist, powered partly by Kew data, allow anyone to photograph a plant and receive instant identification. This citizen science generates millions of distribution records, helping track plant populations and invasive species spread.

Predictive modeling: Machine learning algorithms analyze climate data, soil conditions, and species distributions to predict where plants will thrive or struggle as conditions change. This guides decisions about where to establish protected areas or conduct translocations.

Satellite monitoring: AI analyzes satellite imagery to detect deforestation, track forest health, and identify potential new populations of rare species based on habitat characteristics.

Automated specimen processing: Computer vision systems can identify species from herbarium specimens, potentially processing the entire collection and revealing overlooked patterns.

The Quest for Unknown Species

Despite centuries of exploration, an estimated 60,000-80,000 plant species remain undiscovered. Where are they hiding?

The canopy: Tropical forest canopies, 100+ feet above ground, remain understudied. Epiphytes—plants growing on trees—include thousands of species never collected. Drone technology now allows aerial access to canopy zones previously reachable only by dangerous climbing.

Remote mountains: Peaks in New Guinea, the Andes, and Himalayan borderlands hold undiscovered species. Some mountains have never been climbed by botanists. Political instability often prevents access to biodiversity hotspots.

Microscopic species: Some plants are tiny. Wolffia species, the world’s smallest flowering plants, measure just 0.3mm—barely visible to the naked eye. Undoubtedly, other microscopic species await discovery.

Cryptic species: Some “species” are actually multiple species that look identical but are genetically distinct. DNA analysis continues to reveal cryptic diversity—one “species” might actually be five.

Rediscoveries: Periodic expeditions rediscover species thought extinct. Hibiscadelphus woodii from Hawaii was known only from a single tree that died in 1912. In 2019, a botanist rappelling down a Hawaiian cliff found four living trees—a century after presumed extinction.

Biocultural Conservation

Kew increasingly recognizes that plant conservation cannot be separated from human communities. Indigenous peoples and local communities often hold crucial knowledge about plants, and conservation succeeds only with their involvement.

Projects now incorporate traditional knowledge:

In Brazil’s Atlantic Forest, Kew partners with indigenous communities who have used forest plants for generations. Their knowledge helps identify medicinal plants worth studying, and conservation agreements protect both plants and traditional practices.

In Cameroon, local healers document their knowledge of medicinal plants, creating an ethnobotanical database while ensuring their intellectual property rights. When pharmaceutical companies show interest in traditional medicines, communities negotiate fair benefit-sharing agreements.

In Borneo, community-managed forests demonstrate that local stewardship can protect biodiversity while allowing sustainable harvest of timber, rattan, and other forest products.

Florist guides: A Garden for the Ages

On a morning in 2025, as mist rises from the lake and deer graze beneath oaks planted in George III’s reign, Kew remains both timelessly beautiful and urgently relevant. Visitors might admire the Victorian glasshouses or photograph Instagram-worthy cherry blossoms, unaware that beneath their feet, in climate-controlled vaults, seeds sleep at -20°C—insurance against extinction. Or that in laboratories, scientists sequence DNA from specimens collected when Napoleon ruled France.

The history of Kew is ultimately a history of human curiosity and ambition—sometimes noble (preserving disappearing species), sometimes exploitative (facilitating colonial extraction of natural resources), but always driven by wonder at the extraordinary diversity of plant life.

From Princess Augusta’s nine acres to today’s global conservation partnerships, from Joseph Banks’s plant hunters to modern DNA sequencing, from displaying exotic curiosities to banking seeds of the world’s rarest plants, Kew has evolved while maintaining its core mission: to understand, preserve, and celebrate the botanical wealth of our planet.

As climate change, habitat destruction, and extinction accelerate, that mission becomes more critical each year. The plants growing in Kew’s gardens and sleeping in its seed banks may be all that stands between some species and oblivion. In herbarium cabinets and data servers, in glasshouses and laboratories, Kew continues work begun 266 years ago—cataloging life on Earth, understanding how plants function and evolve, and desperately trying to save what remains.

The story of Kew is unfinished. New species await discovery. Conservation techniques continue improving. Climate change presents unprecedented challenges. But if Princess Augusta could see what grew from her nine-acre garden—a global institution safeguarding millions of species, training thousands of botanists, and working across continents to prevent extinction—perhaps she would recognize in its ambition something of her own vision: a place where the world’s botanical wonders could be gathered, studied, preserved, and shared with all humanity.

The Royal Botanic Gardens, Kew, stands as testament to what humans can achieve when we decide that the preservation of life’s diversity matters—that a single species of flower, even one with no obvious use to humanity, deserves to persist, and that the effort to save it is worthwhile. In that conviction lies hope for the future of our green planet.

Hong Kong florist