The Long And Storied History Of Garden Gnomes

There's really nothing else out there like the garden gnome. Something infinitely recognizable for a specific look, that can trace its lineage back centuries. And not that much has changed over those centuries. They still serve one specific purpose and look one general way. Good luck thinking of anything else so incredibly unique, yet with such longevity and a style that has stayed remarkably the same, dedicated to a singular purpose, over the course of its lengthy history.

As such, pretty much anyone could identify a garden gnome on sight. A tall, pointy hat. A bushy white beard; very short, no more than a foot or two tall. A round, bulbous nose. They've become so popular that you can own gnomes dressed in your favorite sports team gear, as well as repping any brand you like enough to sport in your yard. There's even a gnome mascot for the Expedia travel company, and more interesting trends popping up in the gnome-sphere.

All this to say, garden gnomes have a long, bizarre history that spans ancient statues of deities, real-life human beings, and the modern iteration of the gnome that also looks a lot like what Snow White's seven dwarves look like. It might be surprising to learn how far back garden gnomes go in the annals of time, but let's dig into that storied history, one step in the evolutionary process at a time. 

In order for garden gnomes to start populating the various vegetative stomping grounds of the world, there first had to have been the introductions of gnomes themselves, and for that, we need to look to the 17th-century Swiss jack-of-all-trades, Paracelsus. An alchemist by trade, Paracelsus connected the pieces between chemistry and medicine, and the modern world benefitted immensely from it, according to the American Association for the Advancement of Science. 

Believe it or not, gnomes had a connection to all that as well. According to Folklore Tuesday, Paracelsus saw gnomes as one of the four beings who represented the "Empedoclean elements of Earth." Undines were associated with water, salamanders with fire, sylphs with air, and gnomes with the earth. This, then, is another line of connective tissue with how gnomes ended up being guardians of gardens. The caveat was they had to stay among their own element. Gnomes could pass easily through rock, earth, and vegetation, but if exposed to water, fire, or air, they began to die. 

Paracelsus drew his inspiration for their appearance from the Ancient Greek pygmies, which were described at length in "The Iliad" as small, mountain-dwelling creatures. They were also included in Pliny's "Natural History," with all of their major characteristics staying true across records. The only minor difference is that while Aristotle once said that pygmies live underground, Pliny and Homer begged to differ. 

While seeing dwarfish or impish statues, even statues of Priapus, as precursors to the soon-to-be expansive growth of garden gnome culture, there is another precursor that is rather bizarre and difficult to wrap the noggin around. According to Atlas Obscura, they were called the "hermit in the garden," and while that may sound like a cute little moniker for little gnomish statues, it is nothing of the sort. It is an actual hermit — as in a living human being — who was hired to live in a hovel in a rich person's garden, not say anything, never bathe, and just be a hermit for seven whole years, being paid for their services every step of the way. Oh, and they had to dress up like druids.

Gordon Campbell, a professor from the University of Leicester, wrote a whole book on this completely batty concept, called "The Hermit in the Garden: From Imperial Rome to Ornamental Gnome," in which he explores this bizarre fad that struck Georgian England right about at the turn of the 19th century, and if ever there was a sign that a better garden guardian is needed, this had to be it. 

This traces all the way back to Roman times as well, during Emperor Hadrian's reign. He had a villa unearthed with a small cottage for a single-person retreat, and it's believed that this is the introduction of the concept of hermits, which then goes all the way through the papacy and into Georgian England.

After all the dwarves, minor deities, and actual human beings populating the world's gardens, the first actual garden gnome emerged in Germany in the early 1800s. However, they wouldn't be mass-produced until the late 19th century, according to the original factory itself, which is still in operation today. The creator — Philip Greibel — apprenticed as a porcelain maker and then made his way into the craft of "animal head modeler," and then went on to found the very ceramics factory that is the birthplace of garden gnomes the world over. 

While Greibel produced the Gräfenroda garden gnome, he began his ceramics trade in the manufacturing of animals and other small creatures, alongside other craftsmen who shared the factory space. All told, they created such an impressive collection of ceramics that they made an appearance at the Leipzig Trade Fair, bolstering the reputation of the factory. 

The garden gnome itself, though, was not part of the repertoire on display until some 20 years later, when the Gräfenroda garden gnome hit the world stage and triggered an industry that no one saw coming, and that no one could stop. According to the Gnome Home, Greibel's factory produced upwards of 300 different garden gnome characters in a wide variety of sizes, lending serious credibility to just how popular these creations were at the time. 

Nowadays, you say the word "gnome" and practically anyone could tell you what they look like, but that wasn't always the case. Early descriptions of gnomes going back to Paracelsus were just that — descriptions. Actually coming up with their look was a matter of creative interpretation. They were always seen as small, comparable to pygmies and dwarves, which lends itself to a certain look, but early iterations of the gnome garden statues in the Renaissance could reach as high as 6 feet tall, according to WBOY. When Germany started to produce them, they were little more than 3 to 6 inches tall, and they weren't based on any particular stories of gnomes at all. Essentially, they were becoming their own thing.

Yet, no matter the height and attire, what gnomes look like has always stayed pretty similar, with the pointy hats and bushy beards. With the introduction of "Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs," the attire began to vary, but even going back to the original factories, there were over 300 gnome characters being produced, all of which had their own quirks or identities. 

And there were female gnomes, too, according to Love To Know. Female garden gnomes had long hair, wore simple dresses, and boasted similar faces to witches. 

Gnomes have had very specific purposes since their beginning. They oversaw the garden. They protected it from evil, be it spirits or other nefarious beings. They ensured that all flora and fauna were kept safe and nurtured to good health. They made sure that their owners could count on a bountiful harvest and not have to worry about pests or plagues. But the question was inevitably going to come up eventually — what if gnomes want to do other things besides tending the garden?

The modern-day has answers for that. Look no further than the Expedia commercials with a gnome as the mascot. It stands to reason that this very gnome started in a garden somewhere and aspired to do something else with his life. The digital footprint that gnomes are now leaving is pretty extensive too. One example is the activity of gnome-spotting. Martha's Vineyard Times highlights this activity in their guide of the grounds, encouraging visitors to spot the gnomes hiding throughout the area. 

Similarly, a travel blogger from Camelid Country documented a successful gnome-spotting adventure in Wroclaw, Poland, a city littered with garden gnomes who were tired of the garden and aspired to a life in the big city. Gnomes are diversifying their professional qualities, and it's a great thing to see.