I took a day off from doing our garden to go with a friend and look at other people's instead. Essex and Suffolk are not especially well endowed with notable gardens open to the public. There would probably be an entire doctoral thesis to be had in explaining why this should be so. Essex was trendy in Tudor times and has not been so since, so we lack the large private gardens built by stockbrokers and bankers in the first part of the twentieth century. Suffolk was rich on the back of the wool trade in the middle ages, hence its marvellous legacy of churches, but was never as prosperous again. Some of the lack may be down to unlucky twists of fate, death and taxes. Poor Lord Petre was a notable early collector of American trees, but his early demise meant that his collection was sold off. Some of it may be down to earlier patterns of land ownership: maybe we lacked the great ducal estates that produced the Chatsworths of England. Some of it is certainly random bad luck about what got restored. One of Harold Peto's major commissions lies within a stone's throw of the proposed Stansted extension, which blighted any chance of it getting funding from sources like the Lottery Fund. As I say, there is a whole thesis there waiting to be researched.
We do have our fair allocation of large private gardens of the middling sort, that open for the NGS, the Red Cross and other good causes. I contacted one of them, that was open by arrangement, and enquired whether a party of two was sufficient. The owner responded that we were most welcome, and that while he and his wife would not be there, the gardener would be happy to show us round, in exchange for a charity donation on the usual scale of five pounds a head, or more if we could manage it. I find it very kind, and remarkable, that people are willing to have complete strangers traipse around their gardens and take their gardeners away from their proper work. I should hate it myself, but I'm glad others don't feel the same way.
It is always interesting being shown around by the person who does the actual gardening. The gardener told us that the soil was clay over sand, and was the worst site he had ever worked on in his entire career. Even moderate rain made the surface unworkably squelchy, then after a window of about two days it would set as hard as concrete. It can be good to hear about the trials of others, and I began to feel quite kindly towards my own sand, which is workable five minutes after the rain has stopped falling (if such a thing were ever to happen again). The garden had been created out of fields by the present owners over a period of about forty years, stage by stage, and it was interesting to see how much tree cover they had got over that time. Slightly piecemeal, but pretty, areas of formal garden near the house gave way to a grassy landscape with trees, leading down to a wood. Three paths mown into the long grass led the eye into the distance, and formed a classic goose-foot as might have been designed two or three hundred years ago. We saw a hare, which delighted me. I love hares. I know they can strip bark and do damage, but they are rare, and in a different league to the wretched rabbits. The gardener maintained the garden and park single-handed. Again, it is always interesting to find out how many bodies are at work to maintain a given size and type of garden to a given standard. This one was much less weedy than mine, though the amount of intricate planting was probably smaller, and I can't do mine full time.
By way of contrast we dropped down to Mark's Hall, as my old tutor had tipped me off that the irises and peonies in the walled garden were at their peak. This garden and arboretum are owned by a charitable trust, and are being gradually worked up as funds permit into what could be a very exciting landscape. It's interesting that the single Essex entry in Tony Russell's 2010 guide to garden visiting was this garden, and not the more famous Chatto gardens. A modernist garden designed by landscape architect Brita von Schoenaich was completed in 2003, within a large seventeenth century walled garden. I love modernism, done well, and this is done superbly. The division of space is elegant, the materials are weathering OK despite the UK climate (damp induced green mould rather takes the shine off the modernist look), and the planting is excellent. I was last there in September, when there was still plenty of colour, and there was colour today, from bearded iris, peonies, Astilbe, Geranium x magnificum, roses and clematis. If I were a good and conscientious blogger I would have taken photographs for you, but I dislike looking at gardens through the lens of a camera and didn't. Much better you go and see for yourself. I was also interested to see what had survived the winter and what had succumbed. Eriobotrya japonica looked remarkably good, with wall protection, and Vitex agnus-castus made it through, but I saw a lot of new rosemary, Olearia and Cistus. We didn't have time to look at the arboretum, but it was worth going for the walled garden. We shared the space with just two other visitors, which was nice for us, but seems a waste, when it is so good. Admission is currently free to RHS members.
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