Just as embroiderers working in the late 11th century will not have appreciated the achievement that was the Bayeux Tapestry until they stood well back at the finish, so garden writers are usually too caught up with describing the details of individual gardens to consider the overall magnificence of ‘the English garden’. It was not until I really considered the matter, when writing a book on the subject, that I began fully to appreciate what a tremendous collective achievement it is.
English domestic gardens (i.e., those connected to a house, however big) are as much a product of society and culture as of the individual taste and inclinations of their creators; influenced, to a very high degree, by patterns of thought and fashions at the time of creation. But that, as I have discovered, is only part of the story. Not only are there fine and important gardens where trends have either been bucked or ignored, but it is plain that some pretty remarkable and original individuals have decided to give much of their life and energy to their gardens, and have influenced garden style as a result. In the case of Chatsworth, to take just one of many examples, so many generations of the family have been involved in garden-making since the late 17th century that it is surely possible to talk of a gardening gene.
Political and economic forces have often also been important, even crucial. In recent years, garden owners have been helped by politicians, believe it or not. I know this won’t appeal much to the bien-pensants, but the owners of large gardens have much for which to thank Margaret Thatcher and John Major: Margaret Thatcher because her government cut tax rates, and John Major for instituting the National Lottery. We sneered at Major for his ‘tax on the poor’, but there is no doubt that since 1994 the Heritage Lottery Fund has provided much of the fuel to power the engine of conservation of historic gardens. There were renovations of important landscapes and gardens, such as Claremont and Westbury Court, before that time, it is true, but I very much doubt whether, for example, Croome Park in Worcestershire, ‘Capability’ Brown’s first commission, would have been restored without the help of large tranches of Lottery money.
It may seem toe-curlingly smug to say that our gardens are the best in the world, but it may just possibly be true. Certainly, a benign concatenation of factors — temperate, maritime climate and wide range of soils, in particular — means that we can grow a far greater range of plants than we are properly entitled to in such a small country; this has meant that a number of garden styles have developed very successfully. There is, presently, a lively spirit of experimentation in the air, with adventurous garden designers given their heads by garden owners enriched by City bonuses. Forget the anxiety about the lack of skilled gardening labour these days, which seems to threaten standards. Sure it’s a problem in places, and needs to be tackled, but technological advances have undoubtedly cut the number of gardeners required. Certainly, I only very rarely come away from a garden visit wondering how on earth the owners could continue to manage.
More of a worry is creeping climate change. Garden-visiting numbers have declined slightly in recent years, due partly to the variety of alternative ways of spending spare time, but also to a run of cold springs and scorching summers. One day this July, for example, I promised myself a trip to West Green House in Hampshire, a garden of great verve, style and originality. With the temperature at 32˚C, I could not face the two-hour drive in a car without air-conditioning, and so I stayed at home. What is more, garden owners are presently having to deal with a number of tree diseases, the progress of which is promoted by winter droughts and summer heat, which threaten to alter the look and balance of large gardens, in particular. Even where these are not a problem, garden creators have to rethink established plantings, especially those using thirsty plants, which conditions now make unrealistic. However, I have absolutely no doubt that they will rise to the challenge.
Frankly, I defy anyone not to have the breath squeezed out of them when they consider the number, range, complexity, floriferousness and serene beauty of most English gardens open to the public. Garden visiting remains one of the most agreeable and innocent ways of spending leisure hours; one which we certainly shouldn’t take as much for granted as we do. Individual gardens may rise and fall but, collectively, they remain one of the enduring glories of England.
The English Garden by Ursula Buchan, with photographs by Andrew Lawson, is published by Francis Lincoln, £25.
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